Hello again my lovelies. So I'm thinking—I'm too ticked about the season finale (that one scene doesn't count for real Huddy action) to care about reviews. Stubborn look Don't review me; I don't want them. Really. Don't. No. I'm serious! Ah! Well, if you're going to be like that, fine, you can review me. :D On a more serious note, I'm going to try to switch up my writing a little. Previous chapters seem a little too rushed with scenes (the dialogue) and not descriptive enough. Tell me whatcha think.

Half an hour later, Jacob was planted firmly in Cuddy's lap, at her desk, and being sent into peals of laughter. The little boy seemed light as a feather now that Cuddy had finally gotten off her feet—and she had found it moderately easy to jounce him around on her knee a bit—only moderately though because her clothing really was rather constricting. It, however, seemed to be enough for Jacob. "Weeeee!" he exclaimed on a particularly high jounce, landing with a thud back onto Cuddy's lap. Looking at the boy, Cuddy couldn't help but smile broadly at his obvious delight, and how such a simple thing could bring joy to someone so innocent. Up and down he went, over and over, laughing the entire time. It couldn't help but brighten Cuddy's day a little bit.

Fifteen minutes later and Cuddy was exhausted. "Jacob, would you like to read a book?" she asked, feeling slightly out of breath. Her legs were getting sore from all the bouncing and she was starting to feel each thunkas gravity drew him back down to earth and he landed on her knee. I'm going to be full of bruises tomorrowshe mused, smiling. Somehow, a few minor bruises seemed like a small price to pay.

"SPONGEBOB!" Jacob yelled, grinning from ear-to-ear and clapping his hands. Cuddy was mildly startled by the outburst of enthusiasm, her eyes widening slightly, before her face calmed again. Spongebob it is…

Luckily for them both, Cuddy didn't have to search long before scrounging up a book on Spongebob Squarepants. She always kept a few children's books in her office—just in case. What the case might be, she didn't really know, but she wasn't a woman who went unprepared. She even went so far as to have the books switched out regularly for whichever ones the children were into at the time. For some reason which had eluded her, Spongebob had been sitting in her office for the better part of a year—and now she was finally going to see what all the fuss was about.

Cracking the book open, Cuddy began to read the tale to Jacob, who had reestablished his place on her lap, pausing what seemed like every five seconds so he could talk about the pictures on the page. She let him ramble where others would have silenced him, for through the story of Spongebob Squarepants, Cuddy was able to find out a lot about the boy. Not only was he in love with this "Spongebob," but when he pointed to a picture of his favorite character, she found out that he also loved the color yellow—not blue, like most boys his age. Seeing the character who was a starfish, he also pointed, exclaiming, "That's Patwick…he's silly." For some reason, this statement charmed her immensely. Maybe it was the grin on his face or maybe she was just…happy; she didn't really know.

Turning from the book to look into Jacob's face, she smiled, replying, "Just like you huh, Jacob?" Tickling his sides, she couldn't help but laugh aloud as he squirmed and giggled. I could get used to this, she though, her smile widening. His laugh seemed so uninhibited—so pure, and something in the depths of her soul responded to it. It was as if that flicker of hope, which she had so carefully guarded, had finally ignited into a full-on flame. I want this.

Cuddy's hands stilled as the emotion coursed through her veins and Jacob looked up at her, wondering why the fun had stopped so abruptly. "Arr we gonna finish the stowy?" he asked her. Being still a few moments longer, Cuddy finally forced herself to shake the feeling off. Que sera, sera, she thought; What will be, will be.

Looking down at the figure, she exclaimed, "Of course! We have to find out what happens to Spongebob, don't we?" Through all of her smiles and exclamations, Cuddy was getting worried. While Jacob continued on with the story, pointing out the pictures he enjoyed, she chanced a glance at the clock on her computer. She was startled when she discovered that it read "12:07 P.M." Noon already?she asked herself incredulously. House had been with the social worker for nigh on an hour. What could they possibly be talking about for this long?

A loud thwackpulled her from her thoughts—or maybe more so from her worries. The hospital just couldn't afford another lawsuit right now—not after the last one. Looking down, she noticed the book had been dropped haphazardly onto her desk and had slid to the floor. She then realized that the figure which had been bouncing around for the last hour had finally stilled against her. Looking at him, she could tell that he was fighting off sleep; rubbing his eyes with his small hands, Jacob yawned loudly, snuggling deeper into her body.

Taking the hint that it was naptime, Cuddy cradled his small body in her arms, brushing his hair out of his face and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. Minutes passed as she rocked him gently, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. When he had finally been lulled into a deep sleep, thumb in mouth, a gentle tapping resonated off her door.

"Come in," she said quietly, trying not to disturb the slumbering child. She watched his face as he slept—vaguely hearing the soft swish and click which meant someone had entered her office.

The moment was ruined when she heard the timid inquiry. "Doctor Cuddy?" sounded a woman's voice…no, THE woman's voice. Cuddy prepared her glare, fury coursing through her veins once again, as she raised her eyes to the social worker's.

"I see House didn't eat you alive," she snapped, albeit quietly. "How unfortunate." Deepening her frown and increasing her scowl, her face more than adequately showed her disapproval, not only of this woman, but of House's apparent lack of handling her properly.

"I'm very sorry about earlier Ma'am, but I need to take the boy now," she responded half-heartedly, ignoring the jibe. The truth was, House did try to "eat her alive." An hour alone with that cantankerous man would make anyone welcome death—and she was no exception.

Silence.

"What's your name?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you what your name was." Cuddy stated in her cold, clipped tone—the tone that was reserved for enemies…and House on occasion. "I want to know the name of the person I will be reporting."

"Ohh-h," stuttered the woman, taking a step back.

"Do you have a problem hearing or can you just not form a cohesive response?" Cuddy snapped.

"I…" she stuttered again.

"Let me help you," Cuddy charged malevolently. "My name is…" She trailed off and was met only with silence. If she had had any patience at the beginning of the conversation, it was now nonexistent. "This is where you fill in the blank ya know," she added sarcastically..

"Jones."

"You don't look like a man to me. But I'm only a doctor; what do I know? What's your first name?"

"Anne."

"Well, Anne Jones, I don't know what you think--" Cuddy began, but her words were cut off abruptly.

"Now, now, Cuddles. Don't go scaring the poor lady any more today," House said I in a patronizing tone, opening the door and limping into the room. "I think she's been traumatized enough for one day."

Cuddy, missing the obvious tension the woman was exuding at House's entrance, addressed her employee, voice rising, "And who the hell do you think you are? You better than anyone else should know not to interrupt someone in the middle of a tirade!" Jacob began to stir slightly in her arms and she looked down at him.

"Mommy?" he asked groggily, looking up at Cuddy.

Without missing a beat, Cuddy's tone had become a light and sweet, and she smiled at the little boy in her arms, cooing, "Shh honey, go back to sleep." Placing another kiss on his forehead, she began to rock him once again, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Minutes passed, and the other two people in the room just stared, silenced by the versatility of the woman that was Lisa Cuddy. Meanwhile, Cuddy's mind was reeling…God, he called me 'Mommy' and I let him…what is going on with me? …I'm a horrible person. He's going to wake up and realize his Mommy is gone all over again.

Preparing herself for another round, she looked up at the pair standing in front of her desk, but she couldn't—couldn't argue, couldn't fight—just couldn't. She felt drained, and yet completely full at the same time. The look of resignation she wore must have been blatantly evident, because the social worker took advantage of the situation.

"If you'd like ma'am," she began cautiously, "you could apply to adopt him."

If the woman thought she had been reading the doctor's mind, Cuddy's reaction proved how wrong she was. Every feature on her face became etched in shock as she looked at the woman, absorbing her words—or at least one word. Adopt. She hadn't thought of that…but why would she have? She was trying to get pregnant, not looking to take in someone else's child. I can't be hasty. I only met the boy a few hours ago…what if he's the spawn of Satan…or worse…just like House! She took a glance at Jacob, who was sleeping contentedly in her arms. Her heart melted. What am I thinking? Everything in me says it's right…I can just feel it. Then…then I'll really be his Mommy.

She closed her gaping mouth and a look of serenity slowly appeared on her face. Her mind was set. "What do I have to do?"

"Well, there's not much you can do right now; however, if you come down to the agency, you should be able to start the paperwork."

"Mhm..."

"I just want to let you know though…" the older woman let the thought trail off. She didn't want to be the bearer of bad news. After all, it wasn't that long ago that she was chewed out not only by Doctor House, but the Dean of Medicine herself. She didn't want a repeat experience.

"Yes?" Cuddy asked impatiently; she was starting to get irritated again. There's always some hang-up…some glitch. Why can't life ever be simple?

"Well, generally speaking, they don't like to adopt children out to single parents. And while your job ensures that he would get the best of everything…it…it could also count against you because it's such a demanding position. They may think you won't have enough...time for him."

Cuddy tried to hide her displeasure at the woman's statement and the implication that she not only needed a man to help her take care of a child, but that she would neglect the boy. Plastering a phony smile on her face, she responded mildly, "I see. Thank you Ms. Jones."

"So…would you like to schedule an appointment?"

"No, she would not," House interjected, startling both women. To be honest, they had forgotten he was even in the room. He limped around the desk, turning Cuddy's chair towards him so they were face-to-face. "You're being stupid." He looked at Cuddy intensely, trying to analyze her reaction. He had seen the melee of emotions on her face when that stupid woman had mentioned adoption and knew Cuddy wasn't being rational. "You aren't thinking with your head. You start thinking with your heart and…"

Cuddy raised her hand, making a motion to stop and spoke with surprising venom. "While I can't fight with you about this right now…for obvious reasons," she began, looking down at Jacob in her arms, before making contact with House's eyes once again, "I can tell you this is none of your business…"

"The hell it isn't!" he exclaimed, the sound reverberating through the room.

Cuddy and Ms. Jones both hissed at him. "Watch it, House."

"The brat is ASLEEP." He gestured wildly, lifting up the boy's right arm and, once raised, letting it drop back down to prove his point.

"I don't care. This discussion has gone on far enough. Get out. Get out now." She wrapped her arms protectively around the little figure and began to turn away from House.

Grabbing her chair, he forced it back around so he could glare at her, trying to read her expression. "We aren't done."

She raised her eyebrows at him and gave him a smirk. "We never began."

The double-meaning wasn't lost on his analytical mind. "We'll talk later," he stated matter-of-factly, heading out the door.

So, I promise I really am going somewhere with this… methinks the date will be up next.