Chapter 18

A/N: Well, okay, so I promised to bring this chapter quickly. It seems my promises are at times, empty. BUT, I did write this about a week ago… but I had to proof it and change some things, and I got busy, and I wasn't in the mood, and excuses, excuses, and I didn't proof and post. So I apologize. Nonetheless, I have now proofed and I have now posted, so hopefully I had redeemed myself.

Since my promises of updates tend to… well… not happen, this may be pointless to say, but hopefully I WILL be updating more. It was FINALLY holidays (goodness me, that had to be the longest term in the history of all time), so I may be writing more. And sure, its meant to be a 'working' holidays, and I'm mean to be researching MADLY (or so my teacher says) for my drama solo performance, but we all know that I'm not gonna be doing homework for a large portion of this holidays. With any luck, I will find some creative bones for this fic, and more of it will get written. But, let's not make any promises. It's coming along slowly…

Ummm, YES reviewers thanking time! How could I almost forget! It seems that my reviewers just get cooler and cooler (oh yep, putting in butt-kiss overtime), and it makes me UBER happy to know that you're all enjoying it (AND that I know have an average of 10 reviews per chap. That's pretty DAMN sweet). So, to cazness (my ever loyal bestie), GallopGirl, Jojo, bostonfan, moo333, ladyhound, Kris the fanficaholic (look… MORE!), manda (I love a loyal fan), Chromo26, Princess-Leasel, RogueButterfly, soccerchick13, TNIIT, QT Roo, PurpleYin and Stacey, you guys are bumping up my average and I LOVE IT! Keep them coming because I am just REVELLING in the reviewness right now. It makes me feel pretty damn good about myself… lol!

Oh YES, and I have to mention, before we go on, Emily and Anna's father. I have been getting SHITELOADS of comments about 'who is their daddy?'. So (when I can remember) I've been replying to people's reviews to let them know. Now there seems to be too many, so I shall mention it here! Back in chapter (stops for a moment to check) five we established that then twins' father is a man named Harvey O'Brien. Now, we only brushed on it, but basically we learned that he and Cuddy dated briefly in college, and they broke up before Cuddy found out she was pregnant and transferred to Stanford. The girls know of but don't know him, and he doesn't know anything about him, and that is all that WE know so far. (lol!) However, we shall be touching more on him in chapters to come, so don't get grizzly just yet. And yes, he has a stupid name, I'm sorry. He sounds like the name of a company… but oh well.

Anyway, I think it's 'on with the story' time. So… on with the story…

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"Fifteen-love," Emily called absent-mindedly, not looking up from her drawing pad.

"What!" Cuddy yelled in protest from her end of the tennis court, temper flaring. "It was in!"

"It was out," Anna retorted from the other end of the court, wiping her brow with her wristband.

"It was in!" Cuddy spat back.

"It was out, mom," Emily corrected, still not looking up.

"It was not!" she continued protesting, "you weren't even looking!"

"It was out, don't argue with the umpire," Anna quipped, smirking at her mother who angrily straightened up her white tennis skirt.

"It was in," she mumbled, as she prepared for Anna to serve.

Two weeks had passed, and Cuddy had a rare Saturday off, choosing to spend it playing tennis with her daughters. Anna, as always, was up for a game, but Emily had complained of having other plans. She had barely spent a minute of the last fortnight at home, claiming she was 'enjoying her summer', though unbeknownst to Cuddy, she was spending all this time with Chase. She had been acting out against her mother ever since their dinner at Wilson's. Cuddy was having a hard time figuring out what to do, as it was usually Anna that was the one with the grudge. Instead, Anna had been almost pleasant at times, occasionally partaking in friendly banter, as opposed to sulking and flinging bitchy comments whenever possible as she usually did.

"Emily, watch!" Cuddy commanded, returning Anna's serve and noticing Emily's complete inattention to the game out of the corner of her eye.

"I am watching," Emily grizzled, looking up just long enough to call, "thirty-love."

Just as Anna prepared to serve again, they heard the squeak and clank of the metal gate opening on the court. A cloud of orange dust lifted from the clay around a thin wooden cane, as House stepped out onto the court.

"House!" Cuddy exclaimed in surprise, spinning around to face him, eyes wide.

"Cuddles," he acknowledged with a nod, heading towards Emily who sat in a plastic chair beside the net. Cuddy just stared at him in surprise, mouth agape. He took a seat in the vacant chair next to Emily, and hung his cane on the side of the net.

"House," Cuddy protested, "what are you doing here!"

"I came to enjoy a game of tennis. Please, don't let me stop you," he said, arms laying crossed casually on his stomach, as he sat comfortably, awaiting the game to continue.

"Who-who told you I was here?" Cuddy stammered.

"I'm serving," Anna called warningly from her end of the court.

House peered over Emily's shoulder to see what she was drawing, and Cuddy stood stubbornly, hands on her hips, waiting for House to come up with an explanation for his presence.

"I'm serving in three seconds, three… two…" Anna warned, and Cuddy pouted angrily before turning her attention back to the game. Anna served strongly and Cuddy whacked it back strongly, this time the ball falling easily in. Anna hit it back effortlessly, bouncing close to the net, and Cuddy had to run in to return it, hitting it to the side on such an angle that Anna couldn't reach it.

"Ha!" Cuddy cried triumphantly, raising her racquet in the air with a grin. Anna rolled her eyes, and went to pick up the ball.

"Thirty-fifteen," Emily called, so used to these games that she didn't even need to look up.

"What's the overall score?" House asked her, and she pointed to the top corner of her page with the end of her pencil, indicating the tiny writing, separate from what she was drawing. House grinned as he noticed Cuddy was leading the set by one.

"I thought you were an actor," House commented bluntly, looking at the dress design Emily was drawing.

"I am," she replied nonchalantly, sketching the hemline.

"Oh, I get it," he smirked knowingly, "you're going for the whole 'celebrity' thing and whatever falls under that umbrella."

Emily squared her jaw, "No."

"Then what's with the sketches, Donatella?" he quipped.

"It's my dress for my birthday party," she replied, still not looking at him, merely focusing on what she was doing.

"And what, you can't just go down to the mall?" House mocked with wide faux-innocent eyes.

"No," she replied bluntly, trying to find an end to the conversation. She was already being forced to umpire a fiercely competitive tennis match, and the prospect of having to chat with someone at the same time, as well as working on her design, was not particularly appealing.

"Fourty-fifteen," Emily called absentmindedly, hearing Cuddy's grunt of frustration and Anna's victorious chuckle.

"Oh come ON!" Cuddy shouted after hearing Emily's call. Finally, Emily looked up.

"What?" she defended.

"That was so clearly out! Did you not see that!" she squealed, her voice reaching new decibels.

"No way mom, that was in, fair and square!" Anna yelled.

"I cannot believe this! There was a reason I didn't go for the ball, because it was so clearly OUT!" she protested, face turning red with rage and hands clenching into fists.

"Oh yeah right, out like Tom Cruise is out of the closet!" Anna spat.

"You couldn't see if the ball was in or out, you are all the way over there!" Cuddy retorted, gesturing wildly with her racquet. House sat back, eyes wide and a look of amusement on his face, and Emily went back to her sketching.

"Eesh," House commented, "and I thought Cuddy was vicious off the court. Those two really don't get along."

"Oh, that's nothing. This is them on a good day," Emily replied.

"It's fourty-fifteen, mom, get used to it," she called, looking up briefly to see Cuddy huff and prepare herself for the serve.

"They're both so competitive," Emily continued to House, "the games are always like this. They yell abuse at each other, then five minutes after the game is over it's like it never happened," she dismissed. House watched as Cuddy and her daughter rallied with vigor, both equally as determined to win as the other. He grinned, remembering the last time he saw her in that cute little tennis outfit, and for a moment he was lost in his own little Lisa Cuddy world, filled with breasts and ass, and a much more suggestive Cuddy than he got in real life.

"Ha! Ha! There's no way you could say that was out!" Cuddy cried victoriously, jumping and pumping her fist, lost in her success for a moment. Suddenly House was startled as Emily yelled "Fourty-thirty!" practically straight into his ear.

"Woah, you scream like your mom," he said suggestively, and Emily whacked him solidly on the arm, and he winced in pain, muttering, "hit like her too."

He looked back over her shoulder and took in the intricate details of the dress she was designing, surprised at the skill with which it had been drawn.

"You know," he commented absently, "you're pretty good at that."

"Thanks," she replied, not really listening.

"Why are you wasting your time trying to be Mischa Barton?" he said rudely, taking a packet of skittles out of his pocket and opening it, popping three into his mouth.

"I would have said Meryl Streep," she replied bitterly, looking up.

House scoffed, "setting the bar a little high, perhaps?"

"I can do it," Emily said stubbornly.

"I'm sure you could," he defended, not wanting to endure the wrath of a Cuddy. "You should do this, though."

"What, design?" she blurted.

"Yeah," House replied, pouring four or so skittles into his hand and tossing them into his mouth almost like he did his vicodin.

"It's probably more stable than acting, so it'll keep mamma Cuds happy, and you'll hopefully skip the whole eating disorder thing our young actors seem to be doing entirely," he stated, holding out his packet of skittles to Emily in a offering gesture. She pointedly took two at his eating disorder comment.

"Why should I take any advice from you?" Emily said skeptically.

"Because," he explained as though it were obvious, reclining slightly in his chair, "I'm Jesus."

Then, with a laugh, she smiled that Lisa Cuddy smile, and despite himself, House found a soft spot growing for this girl.

"We're Jewish," she laughed.

"God, Buddha, Allah, pick your religion, I'm your God," he replied with a smirk, popping more skittles into his mouth before handing the packet to Emily.

"Jewish," House scoffed, "when was the last time you went to synagogue?"

"I never said we were really into it," she grinned, picking out the red skittles.

"Hey, what are you doing?" House protested.

"Taking the red ones," she chuckled, making sure she took every one. House snatched the packet back.

"I'm not gonna share if you're gonna eat all the good ones. The only reason people share candy is so they don't have to eat the ones they don't like," he explained, putting the packet safely into the haven of his pocket. "So only eat the yellow, or get out of here."

"If I recall correctly, it was you that sat down next to me," she replied, eyebrow raised. Suddenly, House remembered the game.

"Shouldn't you be scoring?" he asked, noticing that Cuddy and Anna were still playing.

"Oh, they tend to give up on me and start scoring for themselves halfway through the second set. They only call on me when there's a serious dispute, after a while," she explained, happily turning back to her sketch. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying those rare moments where no one had to say anything.

"So you really reckon it's good?" Emily asked casually, sucking on the red skittle she was savoring, tilting the drawing pad in House's direction.

"Stop tainting it with insecurity, it's sickening," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's good, now quit fishing for validation."

"So," he continued, trying to ask what he went there to ask, "you always do stuff like this?"

"Sit here whilst mom and Anna yell at each other? Yeah, all the time, it's my favourite hobby," she said sarcastically.

House rolled his eyes, "I mean do stuff with Cuddy."

"Yeah, I guess. Not when there's school and work and stuff, but on the rare day off we do," she explained without questioning.

"She a good mom?" he asked, confident in his prying.

"Why are you so interested?" she asked, now skeptical.

"What can I say, I'm a curious man," he replied nonchalantly. She nodded a little in wary understanding, attention focused on her sketch.

"Well?" he prompted, after she'd been quiet for a minute.

"She's a mom. She's alright," Emily shrugged. "I mean, she was never around when we were growing up, but she tries. Though not hard enough, at times, it would seem."

"Awww," House moped, with obvious fake sympathy, "did mommy ignore you?"

"Hey, shut up. I don't have to tell you anything, so stop being such a fuck-wit, or I won't," she threatened, and House recoiled at her sudden turn in personality and hostility. He pulled his packet of skittles out of his pocket, and handed them to her, as a type of peace offering. She took them with a sigh, and emptied the last few out into her hand before handing the empty packet back to House. She tossed them into her mouth, and sucked on them slowly for a moment, as if contemplating something.

"How much do wanna know?" she asked suddenly playfully, holding her hand out and rubbing her thumb and fingers together. House rummaged into his pocket for a moment before pulling out a note.

"My friend Ulysses Grant wants the whole story," he replied, holding up the bill.

"Smooth," she chuckled, "but I'm only talking to Benjamin."

With a little sigh, House put the note back into his pocket, rummaging around and pulling out a crinkled up 100. Emily raised an eyebrow.

"Doctors carry around the big change," he said with an informative nod. He put the note in Emily's hand and she took it with a slightly contemplative face. He was about to ready himself for the story when she continued.

"And his friend… Mr. Franklin," she bargained, smirking cunningly. House let out a groan and an "oh, come on…" before rolling his eyes as she clicked her fingers in impatience, and this time pulled his wallet out of his pocket, flipped it open, and pulled out another, much crisper 100 bill, handing it over.

"Hmm," she mused with a devious grin, "that seems to have loosened up my tongue."

"Well don't keep me in suspense," he challenged, putting his wallet back and hoping he didn't just give Cuddy's daughter a whopping 200 for nothing.

"Where to begin…" she wondered.

"Just talk," he insisted.

"Alright, so, as early as I remember, we lived with my Aunt Linda," she explained.

"Cuddy's sister?" House prompted.

"Yep. Mom transferred to Stanford when she found out she was pregnant, so that Linda could help out. I don't think they were ever that close growing up, but my grandparents refused to help, so mom was desperate. Linda was already married and had my cousin Liam, who was like one year-old at the time, so I guess it was a bit of an intrusion. So anyway, she had us and went to college, and Uncle Rob worked, so Aunt Linda looked after us as well as Liam when mom was at school. Mom worked when she wasn't in class, so we hardly ever saw her, and we lived with Linda until we were about seven. Needless to say, it was pretty crowded, so as soon as mom graduated we moved into our own place just down the street. Mom worked really long hours, so we went to Linda's after school and stayed there until mom finished work, which, as far as I remember, was pretty late. Never before dinner," she explained, eyes glazed over slightly as she remembered countless nights of falling asleep in front of the TV and being carried out to Cuddy's car by her Uncle Rob. She and Anna often joked that they only knew their mom on weekends, but never told each other how much they thought it was true.

"It got better when we moved to Princeton though," she continued, lightening the mood, "we were 10, and she got the job at Princeton-Plainsboro - not the Dean job, but a department head one - and Uncle Rob got a promotion in Princeton at the same time, so both our families moved. Suddenly, mom was happier. We had this huge house all to ourselves, this brand new car, and all this time to spend with mom. Sure, she still had to work quite a lot, but it didn't seem as much because she only had to work the one job. Anna, though, she and Liam were pretty much best friends, so she spent a lot of her weekends over at Aunt Linda's place. Then…" Emily mused, voice becoming hinted with distaste, "she got the job as Dean, and we never saw her. She spent every moment at the hospital, even Saturdays and the good part of Sundays. A year later, Linda and Rob moved back to Boston. Rob got another promotion back there, and Mom and Linda had this huge, huge fight. Mom never told us exactly what about, but Anna hated her for it. She blamed mom for driving them away, and didn't say a single word to her for a full three months. It was… pretty bad. Liam was Anna's best friend – and honestly, pretty much one of her only friends – and once they left she was lost. So… she battled out the last three years of high school, fighting with mom left right and centre, and studied hard enough to get into Harvard, so she could be closer to Liam and Linda, and far away from mom. I was okay with mom, I mean, she was my mom… but she was alright. Anyway, when Anna went to Harvard, I moved to California, and I talked to mom on the phone a bit, and Anna too, but I don't think Anna ever talked to her. She stayed with Linda in the holidays, except for Christmas when I managed to talk her into coming home, and now, for summer. She was going to go back to Linda's now, too… but it seems I have some persuasive powers as a sister," Emily finished, letting out a conclusive sigh. House absorbed all this information, watching the ball fly from Cuddy's court to Anna's.

"And that's that?" he asked.

"That's that," she replied with a nod.

"What about daddy dearest?" he continued, and Emily tensed up slightly – not going unnoticed by House.

"What about him?" she asked confidently, trying to mask her obvious discomfort.

"Are you nominating him for father of the year anytime soon?" he continued, ever so wary of overstepping the boundary and getting a slap in the face. He was playing his puzzle piece, but he didn't want to force it down where it didn't fit.

"No. I know who he is, but I don't have any interest in knowing him," she lied, speaking quickly and conclusively, brushing the topic off as fast as possible.

"Sure," House replied, sitting himself up and grabbing his cane from the net. Emily gave him a slight glare as he rose from the plastic seat and headed towards the court's exit. As he reached the wire door he spun around, giving the Cuddys a nod.

"Cuddles," he said, "you need to work on your returns, Anna, I would not think it wise to push this one too far," he gestured towards Cuddy with his cane, "and Emily, treat Benjie and Frankie with respect, because they respect you."

"House," Cuddy stammered, bewildered by his sudden arrival and departure, "what's going on, why did you come here?"

"I love a good game," he replied with a wicked smile, whipping around and leaving before Cuddy could ask any more questions.

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A/N: So… the unexpected visitor didn't come like I promised (though I guess you could call House an 'unexpected visitor. But he wasn't the one I had in mind). Anyway, there you go. Please take the time to review, because when you do I LOVE YOU.

Coming up next… an unexpected visitor really does arrive and stir up trouble, and consequently wreaks havoc on House's burgeoning puzzle...