Chapter 6

Cuddy sighed deeply as she stood in front of her closet. Wilson approached her and slid his arms around her barely expanded waist, letting his hands rest on the small bulge of her abdomen. Cuddy's eyes slipped closed and she inhaled his aftershave, grateful her morning sickness had finally passed.

"Lisa, you're beautiful. Stop sighing at the pencil skirts and put on the maternity clothes," Wilson said softly in her ear.

"I've gained twelve pounds already," Cuddy whined.

"And you were probably five pounds underweight to begin with," Wilson argued.

"I'm going to be such a cow by the time the baby comes if I keep this up," she replied.

"But you'll be my cow," Wilson said, earning him a smack on the arm.

"You've been friends with House too long," Cuddy chastised him. She knew he was right, and she was being ridiculous. The morning sickness may have passed, but the hormonal craziness had not.

"So says my wallet every day around lunch time," Wilson joked, kissing her neck softly before releasing her. "You're going to be late for work, and then you'll only feel guilty and more miserable."

Cuddy sighed one more time before reaching into the closet and taking out the maternity dress she'd bought. She laid it on the bed and removed her robe. As always, Wilson's breath caught a little when he saw her. His eyes were immediately drawn to her stomach, previously flat and taught, now pleasantly rounded to accommodate his child. He'd heard people talk about the beauty of a pregnant woman, but had never really understood it until it was his woman.

"Jimmy," Cuddy said, her voice muffled slightly by rustling fabric as she slid her dress over her head, "what's going on with Allison and House?"

Wilson's hands fumbled as he tried to knot his tie. So far he'd been able to keep his mouth shut about House's proposal. He knew he couldn't lie to Lisa. Not only because he knew lying to women about House had been a pitfall of his previous relationships, but also because Lisa had an uncanny sixth sense that enabled her to detect a lie before it was fully out of his mouth.

"He asked me not tell anyone," Wilson said, hoping this might buy him a day or two. Cuddy flashed an impatient look in his direction and he sighed, once again deciding House's cane was less scary than her hormones. "Alright, but Allison told you, not me. I've still got bruises from the last time I let one of his secrets slip," Wilson said, taking a good long pause. "He proposed."

Cuddy frowned deeply. "James, that makes no sense. She's been miserable this past week."

"She told him she wants to think it over," Wilson divulged.

"Is his insanity contagious?" Cuddy barked. "What's to think about?"

Wilson shrugged. "She's been avoiding me like the plague. Maybe you could …."

"I already tried, she's just as close-mouthed as he is," Cuddy said. Slipping her feet into her low-heeled shows, another unfortunate concession to her pregnancy, she stepped around the bed and kissed Wilson. "Thank you for not being like that."

"I couldn't even if I tried. Stubble looks terrible on me," Wilson said easily, grinning as Cuddy rolled her eyes. Maybe Jimmy was more like House than she thought.

House called Price into his office in the early afternoon and told him to take a seat. He checked his watch quickly, making sure he wouldn't be late for his appointment. Confident he had enough time to confirm his theory; he pulled out Mason's Guide to Infectious Diseases and opened it to page 897.

"Nice little parlor trick there, Price," House said, laying the open book on his desk for Price to see.

"Parlor trick?" Price asked.

"You have a photographic memory," House said. Price nodded and shrugged. "Pity it makes your diagnosis less impressive."

"I doubt Dr. and Mrs. Quigley would agree with that assessment," Price fired at House defensively.

"Temper, temper," House scolded. "Less impressive, yes. But, it definitely makes you interesting."

"Thank you, I think," Price said a little uncertainly.

"I suppose it's lucky for us you decided to read this particular text," House said a little bitterly, still slightly annoyed at being shown up by the new guy.

"Lucky for Mrs. Quigley it was Lassa fever and not Marburg virus," Price replied.

"Why's that?" House asked.

"I've only read through L," was Price's reply.