Summary: House agrees to be Cuddy's sperm donor.

Pairings: Kinda Huddy, but not really.

Category: General

Timeline: After Tritter, but in the Duckling Era

Rated: K+

Children

When House agreed to be Cuddy's sperm donor, he wasn't thinking much more than 'she saved my life and then she saved my ass. I owe her.'

That lasted all of two weeks. Until Wilson found out.

"You what?" The Oncologist sputtered as House tossed this new revelation out casually over lunch one day at the hospital. And then, just incase the older man hadn't heard it the first time, "You what?"

"I go into a bathroom, jack off into a cup and then a nice doctor that doesn't get paid enough to do this job takes a-"

"I get that," Wilson barked, interrupting House's explanation. "Used the wrong infliction. How's this; You're what?"

"Ah," House nodded as if now it made sense. "Same answer still applies, but yes, I am doing this."

"Why?" His eyes weren't quite as wide anymore, but Wilson defiantly wasn't up to House's level of calm. The Diagnostician was casually munching on a French fry and wishing that the commercials on TV would end so he could watch General Hospital.

When House answered, it was almost automated. "I owe her."

"Maybe," Wilson bent his neck to one side, "But House…this is a kid."

"No," the older man shook his head, "this is a sperm donation."

"This…is gonna be a child." Wilson looked at him like he was explaining something his friend hadn't yet grasped. "If this works…Cuddy's gonna have your baby."

House scrunched up his nose. "No, she'll be having her baby. I just helped out."

"House…" Wilson trailed off but didn't stay silent for long. "If this works, do you seriously think you won't be a part of it's life?"

House looked up blankly, all thoughts of General Hospital and French fries gone for the moment.

"I mean…" Wilson went on, "You work for Cuddy. You'll probably be paying child support. At some point the kid is gonna want to know who it's father is…do you really think you're not gonna be a part of it?"

House considered this from a logical perspective, and concluded, "So the kid knows me. I say 'Hi,' maybe teach it that everybody lies and how to diagnose a couple things. I'm not gonna be playing Daddy, Wilson."

The younger man just shook his head back and forth slowly again. "I really don't think you know what you're getting into."

o0oo0o

"I will not play daddy." House began the conversation in his usual manner – with absolutely no warning.

Cuddy looked up from her planner thing and narrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "No one's asking you to."

"I will not change diapers. I will not clean runny noses. I will not have the chat about the birds and the bees. I will not go to baseball games or ballet recitals." He took a step closer. "I'll meet it. Let it know where it got it's pretty blue eyes. I will not rearrange my life for this."

"Like your life is so great," Cuddy snapped, and House was certain he detected anger in those green eyes of hers. "I'm not asking you to do any of that. Whatever this is, right here, it's your freak out. Don't drag me into it."

House reeled back a little. "I'm just letting you know," he managed to sound just as harsh, even if his heart wasn't as into it anymore. "This wasn't anything more than a favor."

"Yes, House," she lowered her gaze again but the Diagnostician almost thought he heard something like regret or sadness in her next words. "I know."

o0oo0o

Chase had never cared much for rumors and gossip. The high society life he'd grown up with had pretty much turned him off of them at a young age. There was always some rumor circulating – and all too often it was about his family. His mother.

So no, Chase didn't like rumors. Yet, when he heard two nurses talking one afternoon as he was coming off a NICU rotation, he couldn't help but stop and listen.

Less than twenty minutes later and here he was, standing in his boss's office, staring at House as House stared back at him.

"Can I help you with something?" The older man finally spoke, narrowing his eyes in something halfway between interest and suspicion.

"Cuddy's pregnant with your love child?" Chase repeated the rumor he'd hear from the nurses back to the Diagnostician now.

House sighed heavily, raising one hand to his eyes and rubbing with his thumb and pointer finger. "Perfect," he muttered, seemingly to himself.

"So it's true?" Chase hadn't really believed it when he heard it. At least, he told himself logically that it was unlikely, but something about the way the nurses were talking, the confidence they seemed to have…he had to know. And now he did. "It's true? You're going to be a father."

"No," House dragged out the word, lowering his hand to his desk again. "I was a sperm donation. Nothing more." He took a deep breath. "And next time you hear anyone talking about it, tell them they're fired."

"So…" Chase was stuck on the older man's earlier words. "Cuddy's pregnant with your child, but you're not planning on…being a father."

"In case you missed it," House's voice was low and thick, almost growling. Chase wanted to step back, but didn't. "I'm an irresponsible, crippled, drug addict, alcoholic. I'm not exactly up for father of the year over here."

Chase saw something else in his eyes, something that he could almost identify but didn't want to because he thought he might know what it implied. He chose to speak calmly and with rationality, ignoring what might be a hidden meaning.

"An irresponsible, crippled, drug addict who spends his life saving lives and teaching other people how to save lives," Chase knew it wasn't his place to say any of this. It wasn't really his place to be here at all.

Trying to convince House that this was indeed a life-altering thing and that he really should be a part of it. This was Wilson's job. This was Cuddy's job. Hell, this was House's revelation to have.

Yet he was here.

"You forgot the alcoholic part," the older man pointed out, just like Chase had known he would.

House's blue eyes were dancing with curiosity and the Intensivist would give him his answer.

"I know alcoholics," he said gravely, remembering his mother. "You're anything but."

House studied him closely for a long moment and Chase would not back down from his gaze. He didn't know what he was trying to prove or figure out, but something inside of him told him that this was important.

But when House gave him a slight nod and told him, "go do my clinic hours." Chase nodded and left without another word.

He didn't know what had just happened or of he had changed or gained anything.

He supposed it would be a while before he did know.

o0oo0o

House showed up in Cuddy's office late one evening about a month after she'd confirmed her pregnancy to him. She still wasn't showing, but House figured it was only a matter of time now.

"What are you doing here?" She greeted, completely bemused.

House didn't blame her. He was usually out of the hospital by five, if not sooner. It was nearing eight now, yet he was still here. He'd been sitting in his office for several hours working up the balls to do this.

"I don't want to be just a sperm donor." He blurted, never one for dragging things out painfully.

Cuddy's eyes widened, but she didn't look quite as shocked as House had expected her to. He'd had this conversation with Wilson last week. Bastard must have given her a heads up.

"Then what do you want, House?" She asked after a few long moments. "What do you want?"

House thought of his own father and their time living in Japan. He thought of the pain that John House so often chose to inflict on his son and how many times House had sworn to himself that he'd never give himself a chance to repeat those mistakes.

Then he thought of his mother when they'd been living in Korea. When John was gone, fighting in the war and it was just him and Blythe. He thought of his mother and her love, tight hugs and homemade cooking. He thought of the conversations he could actually have with her and how she listened even when he was young and being stupid.

He thought of Crandall's stories of his home life. On his own since he was sixteen because his mother's newest boyfriend didn't want a teenager hanging around and his mother – in her drunken, doped up state – didn't either. He thought about how the daughter Crandall was now raising wasn't really his daughter but just maybe that was okay because it was a lie they both believed in.

He thought about being on the open road with his jazz band so many years ago. With no restrictions, no boundaries, no family. Nothing but freedom. He thought about how, after the infarction, he'd wished for nothing more than a car, a wallet full of cash and a six pack of Budweiser.

He thought of Wilson's family and how not screwed up – minus the missing brother – they were. He thought of the pregnant photographer and the baby he'd almost killed, the little finger that had reached out and touched his.

He thought about Stacy and their talks of children. He thought about Chase and even the other ducklings, who all had so much faith in him just because he could figure out puzzles. He thought about Chase and Rowan and knew yet again that there were so many varying degrees of abuse and neglect.

"House?" Cuddy spoke and the Diagnostician remembered where he was and why. "What do you want?"

What did he want? Greg House could think and figure all damn day with logic and numbers and cause and affect, but when it came down to it, he was shit out of luck when it came to emotions.

So when he finally answered it was the best he could come up with. He'd put all the factors together and come out with one single fact that would hopefully prove to be properly balanced in the end.

"I want a chance."

Fin.