A/N: So, disclaimer. Yeahno, don't own House M.D.

And there's a McVeigh reference that could offend some people, being from Oklahoma, I get how it could. But I'm keeping it in character with House, so hopefully, it's not totally distateful. Forgive me if it is. If you can't, well then get over it, quit reading, and buh bye.

"What it be, Jay dawg?"

"How you doing?"

"If I have to hear that one more t-time, I'm going McVeigh on this hellhole."

Wilson sighs as he sits in the not unusually vacant chair beside House's bed.

"So, you start physio tomorrow?"

"Nope, just gonna let my already wasted legs waste away more. Just think how hot I'd be in a flame p-p-painted wheelch-chair. Damn it."

"Once you get to berating again, which we know you will, the stuttering should subside."

"Well, jeez, Dr. Wilson! Thanks!"

The fake smile he'd plastered on his face vanished with something close to a snarl.

"How can you be pissed? You died twice on the way here! And then you were in a coma we didn't think you'd come out of! Be... happy!"

"I'm supposed to be happy that I can't walk, can barely talk, a-a-and don't remember anything past Chase and C-Cameron de-purifying the closet?"

"Oh whatever. You," is all that manages to escape his mouth before he hastily shuts it. Running a hand through his hair, he hopes House won't catch it.

"What?"

"You should rest."

"So, you quit?"

"Yes."

"Because you were...me?"

"Because I didn't want to be like you."

House smirks as Foreman waits for him to put the small pictures in order again.

"Why is that funny?"

He shrugs as he places Lucy holding the kite after Lucy opening the box. "Foreman, you've," he frowns, "been like me since you were eight."

"So, miss the masogonistic comments?"

"That would be a no."

"Well, I missed looking at those honeydews."

Cuddy smiles tightly as she wishes she hadn't picked this blouse out with him in mind.

"And I missed having to bail your ass out of prison."

"That's so cool."

"What? You going to jail?"

"No, you've got this gray hair-."

"So, I fired you?"

"Yep."

They stare at each other.

"Oh." House nods.

Chase looks down at his fingers briefly. "I wasn't going to see you."

He's quiet a moment. "Really?"

The surgeon looks up, blue eyes more stormy than he realizes. His pager interrupts the moment.

"So, you're my new team?"

"Yeah," they answer at once.

He doesn't care about any of them. The trio stand, hands in lab pockets, one of them rocking on his heels. Well, he might care about the girl. She's pretty hot, he thinks. Nah, he doesn't care about any of them.

"I guess," he mutters, a touch unsettled.

"So, prego?"

"Nope, ate a kid a couple of hours ago. Still digesting." She attempts a smile. "Yeah, I'm pregnant."

"How far?"

"Twenty-four weeks along. Almost six months."

"I can't walk. My brain can still add."

"Sorry."

"I figured you'd come sooner."

"Oh?"

"Well, you were about to run in here earlier when I w-woke up."

She remembers well what happened. "We thought you wouldn't come out of it."

"And then you turned away, belly and all."

"I had to go tell Wilson."

"Nine hours ago."

"I got busy working in the E.R."

"Still, I was damaged before, now I'm a-a trainwreck. I should be irresistible."

The just beginning silence makes her ears burn. Her hands move to rest on the top of her belly.

"Who's the lucky winner?" he asks, giving in to temptation.

"Of what?"

"The spawn inside blonde Mother Teresa."

She looks down at her watch, hesitation around her lips. "I've got a ride to catch."

"You don't want to tell me."

Standing slowly, she knows there's a world of difference from him asking that and him saying that. He's trying to read her, and she doesn't want him to.

"No," she replies, as she sees Wilson walking down the hall, making his way to the room. "Good night, House."

A/N: Yes, I know. He's already told Foreman that. That's the point...right? What else does he remember?