17.

It was another slow day. Lunchtime was coming on, thankfully, and House was sitting in his lounge chair watching television and thinking about possibly heading off-campus for a cheeseburger. Or else sending Chase out instead, since it was looking like rain. That was when Cuddy came in with a look on her face like he was in trouble - not especially big trouble, this was about a force two on the Cranky-Cuddy scale, he decided.

She drew in a breath to speak but he held up a hand. "Wait, don't say anything."

She paused and looked around. "What?"

"Nothing, I'm just picturing you naked. It's a lot easier if you're not talking."

That earned him an eye-roll before she started in. "Do you have any idea who I just got off the phone with?" She provided her own answer before he could jump in with a suitably witty response. "Your mother."

"My mother? Oh, that's right, she did mention something about getting in touch with you. Must have slipped my mind."

"She said you gave her my number and encouraged her to call."

And he'd been starting to wonder if she was going to. He shouldn't have doubted her - his mother never passed up an opportunity to reach out to people, all that touchy-feely crap. Keeping his expression innocent he asked, "Should I not have done that?"

She threw up her hands. "You couldn't have warned me? No, of course you couldn't - look who I'm talking to. Thanks a lot, I had no idea what to say."

"Awkward?"

"Oh no, we had a lovely chat. Really bonded. Apparently you had very wide shoulders when you were born," she said dryly.

"So she's told me many times."

"Well good then, apparently I have something to look forward to."

"That, and being able to hold it over the kid's head their whole life." He shrugged. "One of the joys of motherhood, I guess."

Her expression softened a little. "She seemed quite happy about it."

"They both are, she and my dad. They were starting to give up hope of ever getting a grandchild out of me."

She shifted then, arms at her side moving to cross over her chest. She was uncomfortable, he thought.

"What did you tell them about - us, about me?"

He shrugged and said simply, "The truth." Her eyes widened at that. "I've told you before, I can't lie to my mother. So I told her the truth."

"And what's the truth?"

He smirked. "Isn't that the sixty-four thousand dollar question?"

She frowned, no doubt realising he wasn't going to make it easy - not this time. "I'm surprised you told them at all. Maybe you're making progress."

"Oh I definitely am. It's the good example you're setting - just being around you, I can't help becoming a more open, honest person. Pull up a chair, we can talk, share our feelings. Hold hands and cry."

"Then again, maybe not." She cast her eyes to the ceiling. "So do I need to be on the look-out for any more surprises?"

"Well I wouldn't be too shocked if my dad shows up with a shotgun - for you that is. He's old fashioned, thinks you should marry me. I told him you weren't that kind of girl."

"Crazy enough to take you on? You're right, I'm not that kind of girl." She smiled at her own snappy comeback, and he let her have it. She had to get one in every once in a while.

Then she said something about him doing some work for a change, at which point he had to tune out. Besides, he was officially on his lunch break as of five minutes ago. When he informed her of this she settled for giving him a Look before heading for the door.

He smiled as she left - and not just at the view. This exchange with Cuddy was just what he'd been waiting for. So apparently she didn't mind his parents getting involved. He had to wonder whether that worked both ways.

Planting his cane on the floor he levered himself up and moved over to his desk where he reached for the phone and dialled. It rang twice before an answering machine picked up. He listened for the beep and spoke, injecting into his tone what he hoped was just the right amount of eager sincerity.

"Mrs Cuddy, this is Greg House here, I'm sure Lisa's mentioned me. I was just hoping we could talk - Lisa and I are so happy about the baby and it's only right that our families get to know one another. So feel free to call me anytime, I'm looking forward to hearing from you." He left his number - well, his phone number with a few of the digits mixed up - and hung up. Then he sat back with a smile to wait. It would only be a matter of time.

The day dragged on.

He'd left his charger at home so he couldn't play any games, and his yo-yo and ball were really more for when he had some deep thinking to do. So he found himself propped in the doorway between his office and the conference room with a book of crossword puzzles he'd swiped from Chase.

"Five letters, 'fifth century invader of Britain'. Starts with an 'H'. Come on Foreman, you haven't gotten a single one yet. I'm starting to think you suck at this game."

"Maybe that's because I'm not playing? Do your own damn crossword."

"Horsa," Cameron interjected, and they all looked over at her. "A fifth century invader of Britain. Horsa."

"Correct!' He wrote it in. "So we have Foreman, still on zero, having earned my eternal disappointment. Chase with two, and Cameron in the lead with six."

Chase groaned. "That's not right, you're cheating aren't you? She must be cheating," he appealed to the room.

It occurred to House that Cameron was smiling an amused little smile rather than denying it. And that she had been sitting at the desk with the computer running this whole time.

"No googling," he said.

She just rolled her eyes. "Took you long enough to figure it out."

Foreman was chuckling at Chase's indignant expression as he demanded a recount. House glanced over at them, then past them, just in time to see a dark cloud of fury headed their way.

"And now how about a five-letter word for 'screaming harridan'," he managed to get out right before Cuddy burst into the conference room.

"You son of a bitch!"

Chase, Foreman, and Cameron all froze. House, even though he'd known this was coming, didn't blame them.

"Don't worry, she's talking to me," he said.

"Oh you bet I'm talking to you, you -"

"Harpy!" House spoke loudly, drowning her out. "That was the five-letter word I was looking for, by the way." He pretended to fill it in on the crossword.

"Should we -?" Chase made a hesitant gesture towards the door.

"On no, you three are definitely going to want to stay for this." His eyes locked with Cuddy's, and he found himself smiling slightly. "This is going to be good."

She broke his gaze, finally seeming to realise they had an audience, and strode over and gave him a shove. "Move it," she barked at him. He moved. Meanwhile she was looking down at her watch, then at his team who were observing with interest. "It's almost five, take an early mark," she ordered, her tone brooking no argument as she finished muscling him through the door and pulled it closed after them.

He gathered his dignity - slightly scattered by Cuddy's full-body assault, the woman was a lot stronger than she looked - and made his way over to sit at his desk. She followed close at his heels and loomed over him, arms folded across her chest.

"I just got a hysterical phone call from my mother," she said.

"Gosh, you're popular with the parentals today, aren't you?"

"You called my mother."

"Figured it was only fair. You talked to my mom; I talk to yours. Well, I tried, left her a nice message."

"You called my mother."

"Do you realise you're repeating yourself?"

"You told her. About -" she stopped mid-accusation, glancing back into the next room.

Foreman was already gone, but Chase and Cameron were still hanging around, taking their sweet time packing up for the day and being extremely unsubtle about the whole thing. House smirked and gave them a little wave, spurring them into action. Then he looked back up at Cuddy, feigning surprise. "You mean she didn't know?"

"Don't play dumb," she hissed. "You knew I hadn't told her yet."

"Actually I only suspected. Now I know."

"What did you think you were doing?"

"Reaching out? Opening the lines of communication, in the spirit of familial cooperation? She's going to be the grandmother of my child, you know. I thought it would be nice if we got to know one another."

"Your child?" Her voice dropped dangerously in volume and he noticed again the way she was always calmer, less prone to rave and rant, the more seriously angry she was.

Still, he couldn't resist responding with a quip. "So you keep telling me."

"You haven't expressed one ounce of interest in your child and now you think you can use it to mess with my head? You're pathetic, House. This isn't a game."

"What I find interesting, is that you hadn't shared with your own mother your wonderful news. Why is that?"

"I don't have to justify myself to you."

"Not to me, no," he agreed, "just everyone else. Your mother, the hospital board - the people whose approval you depend on most of all. But that's probably just a coincidence."

She was shaking her head, and suddenly she was on the defensive. "You're blowing this way out of proportion. I'm waiting till I'm safely in my second trimester to tell the whole world. That's what people do."

He shrugged. "Sure. You hit second trimester, your hCG levels even out, miscarriage rates drop significantly - a good reason not to tell the whole world till then, but your own mother?"

"It's none of your business what I tell her!" she snapped, her voice rising again. "In fact, new rule - no harassing my family members with phone calls - or emails, letters, or any other form of communication your twisted mind can come up with. If you want to piss me off, come and do it to my face."

"That sounds like an invitation - I knew you couldn't get enough of me."

"If you're any kind of genius you'll rethink this little trouble-making phase of yours altogether."

"Sounds like the practical thing to do. Trouble is," he feigned dismay, "I've always been more book smart."

"With social skills like yours? I never would have guessed," she returned snarkily.

"Academic excellence is an over-rated quality, it's true. Let's hope the little tyke ends up with your ability to kiss ass and schmooze rich people out of their money, instead."

"You want to know whose ass you can kiss?"

He grinned. "Ooh, is it yours? I was wondering when we'd get around to the make-up sex. Fun as this little scene has been -"

"Never!" she overrode him emphatically. "That's when it's going to happen. In fact, the one thing I'm going to take away from this little stunt of yours is that I did the right thing, putting an end to... whatever it was we were doing before. Believe me, if there's one thing I'm sure of right now, it's that."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode out the door.

"Glad I could help," he muttered as he watched her go for the second time that day. Because he did so enjoy watching her go. It was even better when she was peeved - temper always added a little something extra to her stride.

He sat back once her engaging glutes were out of sight to consider what had just happened, and what he was going to do next.

It had been fun, setting it up and the resulting explosion. It was definitely worth whatever fall-out was coming his way. Cuddy wasn't the type to hold a grudge, generally - he never would have managed to hold onto his job for so long if she was - but that didn't mean she wasn't going to stay pissed at him for a few days at least, and as long as she was pissed he knew he could expect her to take it out on him.

He also knew, therefore, that it was in his best interest to stay out of her way for a while. But then, his instinct for self-preservation never had been all that strong.