"Flowers might help."

"You think?"

Wilson shrugs, taking a drink of his beer while House scratches his chin.

"With a note, maybe."

House shakes his head before moving his feet off his coffee table. "Not lame enough."

"And some balloons?"

"Now you're just having fun with this."

Chuckling, Wilson shrugs his shoulders as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"You have to admit, it's strange that you, House, are trying to woo your pregnant ex-girlfriend."

"It's the natural order of things."

"Right. Why don't you just go tell her you love her and want to marry her, name the kid House Jr., and fall asleep to her breathing every night until you die?"

"I hate you."

"Flowers."

Chase stops midscrub, water dribbling off his elbows into the sink as he raises his eyebrows.

"Flowers? You really think flowers are going to fix everything?"

"Well," House shrugs, "there'll be a note."

A few seconds pass with them staring at each other before Chase shakes his head and goes back to washing his arms for the surgery.

"I think you should go ask someone who cares."

"I already did. Yesterday. He was the one who stupidly said flowers."

"Then I don't know what to tell you, House."

"Look," he rubs a thumb over his eyebrow. "You know her, what she likes."

"So do you."

"Flowers are a good start."

"I haven't even said anything!"

"Wilson came in earlier."

Exhaling, House limps to the window in Cuddy's office.

"He's such a girl."

"I think it's a big step for you," she smiles.

Rolling his eyes, he walks closer to her desk.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've gone all warm and gooey. What do you think I should do?"

Leaning back in her chair, Cuddy tilts her head.

"You're serious about this?"

"Why else would I be missing my wonderful clinic patients?"

She stands, checking her watch.

"I'll need until tomorrow."

"What are going to do?"

Cuddy rounds her desk with a smile and stops in front of him. She brings her hand to his cheek and pats it harshly, causing him to step back and eye her warily.

"Don't worry, you'll get the bill. Now, go do your damn hours."

"You like the flowers?"

She looks up before lowering her eyes and fidgeting with the bag on her lap.

"They were nice. Thank you, House."

Looking around, he mentally guffaws at the pinks and blues and yellows and blues adorning plates, strings, silverware, and even a few banners decorating the lounge. Cuddy knew how to throw a shower, he guessed.

"Cute," he says at the huge bear holding the plastic bottle filled with pennies and dollar bills, for no other reason than his brain is spazzing and he has absolutely nothing else to say.

"You think it's ridiculous."

"Pretty much."

He taps the bottle with his cane to hear the sound of the coins clicking together.

"House…."

"It kind of helps if you finish the sentence."

Cameron breathes out with a slight chuckle. She's so nervous she can barely look at him much less talk so normal with him.

"About the other night, I think it's best if we just forget it."

"So," he takes a few steps closer to her sitting form. "You want to just act like everything's the way it was?"

"Yes. It's the best thing for us, for Brennan."

"How do you know?"

"Uh," his low tone throws her slightly and she has to blink as he stares at her. "I just do."

"I don't."

"What?" Is it her who's a little breathless now?

"I think," he begins to pace slowly in front of her, "you still love me."

"House, you can't – ."

"And I'm ninety-four percent sure I love you," he takes a deep breath without looking at her, "sowecouldjusttrythisthingalloveragainforthekid'ssake."

She seriously thinks about asking Wilson if he's slipping House drugs again, not that she'd find the words at the moment. To hear him actually say he loves her…well, it's confusing.

House waits, and waits, then waits more. But she never says anything as she stares at him with her bottom lip slightly unhinged. Feeling his face burning, he rubs a hand over his chin.

"Thoughts?"

"Ah, sorry," she smiles softly and brings a hand to her forehead. "So, you want to get back together?"

A beat passes before he issues a, "Yeah."

"And you love me?"

"Uh, ninety-four percent isn't bad, is it?"

Sitting the red bag onto the floor, she motions for him to sit beside, and for a second, she wonders if she's asked too much because he just looks at her blankly. But he moves, slowly and cautiously until he's on the middle cushion and his right thigh brushes hers.

She watches his fingers dance along his cane, his frown try to relax but failing, his lips becoming tighter. It could be so easy, and she knows this. All she'd have to do is say 'okay' and she'd have the life she wanted lonely months ago, but months have come and gone and left her as someone different.

Fearful as she is of touching him, she tells herself she's strong enough as she holds his right hand and rests it on her thigh.

"I don't think it's a good idea, now."

"Why?" he asks with more force than he thought he needed.

Without vocalizing her thoughts, she brings his captive hand over her abdomen and nearly shivers as his gaze visibly sharpens.

"I can barely let myself touch here, House. I can't, I just can't bring a child into this world without focusing one hundred percent of myself onto them. You're a distraction, one I can't have.

"And while," she smiles lightly, "the shower you supposedly put together was a step in the right direction, I know it won't last. You won't. You'll get bored with me, with Brennan, and you won't do this anymore. You'll leave us behind."

House swallows.

"You're just afraid I won't."

"And you're afraid you will. Don't deny it. Otherwise you wouldn't have left me to begin with."

Letting go of his hand, she pushes herself forward and braces a hand on her lower back and the other on the arm of the sofa. Once she's standing, she looks down at him to find him watching her with an expression she can't read, like usual.

"Wilson's coming up to get everything while I make my way downstairs." She wets her lips. "I…don't know what else to say about all of this."

"Cameron," House relaxes into the cushions, thinking about accepting defeat or challenging the status quo. But no one tells him no, especially when he wants it. "I'm not going to stop."

At first, she doesn't answer, partly because there's not much she can say to the threat and partly because it might not even matter.

"I hope not."