6.

"Well there's still time, you know," he said, watching her carefully.

"Time to change my mind, you mean?"

He returned her gaze, unfazed by her sharp response. And she sat there, unmoving, waiting to hear what he would say.

"Is anything I say going to change your mind?"

"No," she said firmly and emphatically, still glaring at him.

He shrugged. "Then let's just assume I'm not going to bother trying."

Her indignation subsided a little, and he found himself more amused than anything. The truth of the matter was, he could accept this being her choice. If he ever found himself in possession of a uterus - which god forbid, considering all the trouble they caused, case in point - he'd like to see someone try and tell him what to do with it.

"Anyway," he went on, "back before all the jumping to conclusions, and before your hackles went up in an impressive show of maternal instinct - when I said there was time, I meant that you don't actually need to figure out every single detail today. Even an over-achiever like you, I can't imagine getting anything out of the attempt other than a headache. Not to mention the one you'll give me if you sit here and try to involve me in the whole manic ordeal."

She let out a breath slowly, the last of her bristles going down. "Okay," she said.

"Really? Not tempted to go for my jugular?"

"No more than usual." She smirked.

And that was it; she went back to sipping her juice.

"Good then. And it just gets better," he said, as the bartender appeared before them. Finally. He gestured for another scotch. "Make it a double," he added, giving a happy sigh as it was placed before him.

"Thanks for not trying to talk me out of it," she said a moment later. "I know this isn't what you want."

He shrugged. "No need to pretend either of us would have chosen this."

"All things considered, though, you're dealing with this a lot better than I expected."

"Dealing," he snorted. "This isn't dealing. This is so far from dealing my coping mechanism has detached itself, relocated to Siberia, and declared itself an independent state."

He looked over to see her giving him an odd look. It wasn't his fault, he thought, if she couldn't follow his metaphors.

She sighed. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?" She sounded resigned rather than upset. "You're just going to treat this like a game and leave me to guess where you actually stand because just coming right out and telling me wouldn't be any fun."

"Can you really see me being involved and... committed and whatever else it is good mommies and daddies do?"

"Honestly? No. But I don't see you being uninvolved, either - I think your curiosity will get the better of you. I don't think you'll be able to leave this alone." She shrugged. "And you can't have it both ways."

"Gee, you don't think if I was going to say 'see ya' and go on my merry, unencumbered way I would have done it already, do you? No, you're right, that doesn't sound like something I'd do at all. My sense of duty simply wouldn't allow it."

She let out a short laugh and shook her head ruefully. "I have no idea what's going through your head. I'm having enough trouble figuring out what I'm going to do. Don't expect me to be a mind-reader at the same time."

"Well don't you expect me to be anything other than completely useless. Because what I in my infinite wisdom foresee is me thoroughly sucking at this. Not to mention there's a good chance I might flee in manly terror at any moment. I mean if there's one thing I'm really good at - that I've really worked hard to develop throughout my entire adult life - it's an unwillingness to take responsibility for anything other than my own selfish needs. It's been working well for me so far, I don't see any reason to change now."

And after all that, she sat there looking at him with a smile on her face. Like she was actually pleased with the fact that he was telling her not to depend on him - that he almost certainly wouldn't come through, that he wasn't even going to try.

He didn't know how what he just said could be translated as comforting on any level, but that was how she seemed to take it. Displaying, he thought with irritation, that special ability of women to only hear what they wanted to hear.

Suddenly another voice addressed them. "Hey." He and Cuddy turned as one to see Wilson standing behind them. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked.

"Nope," House jumped in with an answer. "Just sitting here, thinking about how much simpler my life would be right now if I was gay."

They both just looked at him.

"Well that's my cue to go," Cuddy said after a moment's pause. She stood up and patted Wilson on the shoulder. "He's all yours."

Wilson stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Hey," he said, "Lisa, I don't know if you're ready for congratulations yet, but... Mazel tov."

"Suck up," House muttered, looking on as Wilson kissed Cuddy's cheek.

"Thank you," she responded graciously, though her smile was self-conscious. "I know I'm going to have to get used to people acknowledging it eventually."

The two men watched her go, then Wilson took her place at the bar and turned to House.

"So how'd it go?"

"We'll be playing happy families in no time. I'm going to take my motorcycle in tomorrow and trade it for a nice shiny minivan."

"You were looking amiable enough from what I saw. Sure I didn't interrupt anything?"

"Well we were just about to declare our undying devotion to one another... Oops."

"Now you're just avoiding the question. Is something going on there? Besides procreation, I mean?"

"That's it. No more rom-coms for you. Movie night is now restricted to films of the Alien and Rambo genre."

"Since when is 'Rambo' a genre?"

"Until and unless," House spoke over the top of him, "you accept the fact that one night in the sack does not a great love affair make. Huh, maybe I should have invoked this rule two or three marriages ago. Might have saved you a lot of alimony."

"You won't tell me what went on that night - how do I know it wasn't the start of something... magical?" Wilson's voice took on a breathy, mocking tone.

"So you want all the gory details? Fine, I'll spill." He shrugged. "And people call me the disturbed one."