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"I wasn't high," House said, poking his head into Cuddy's office.

Cuddy looked up at him, taken aback by the fact that he was the first one to approach. "I... know. I shouldn't have demanded to see your Vicodin bottle. I know my mistrust undermines what you've accomplished and I'm sorry."

"It seems like the pain's been getting worse." House had crossed the room and seated himself opposite her desk. "Though, that could just be my throbbing shin."

Cuddy gave him a look, but then softened slightly. "We need to talk."

"We don't talk," House replied.

"Exactly," Cuddy agreed. "And that... needs to change. This isn't about us. It's about her. If you... want to be a part... If I let you... I'm willing to let you into Sarah's life on a more personal level." Cuddy paused a moment. "If you want to, that is. No one is making you do anything. I just think it's unfair for her to know who her father is and then not give him the chance to be part of her life if he wants to now that the cat's out of the bag."

"Did anyone ever tell you that your rambling is worse to listen to than your whining?" House asked her.

Cuddy frowned. "Did you even hear a word-"

"Yes," House cut her off. "And I'll think about it."

Cuddy nodded slowly. "You'll... okay. Okay, that's good."

"Yeah," House agreed and moved on quickly. "Are we going to talk about us? What happened-"

"No," Cuddy stopped him. "Besides, you have Clinic duty."

"Right, like I'm really going to go do that now." House stood to his feet. "I have to ice my shin."

Cuddy rolled her eyes at him. House gave a simple shrug and let himself out of her office.

House sat at his desk, tossing his grey and red tennis ball up in the air and easily catching it. There was a light tapping on his office door before Wilson entered.

"Working on a case?" Wilson asked.

House looked to Wilson and set his ball on his desk. He shook his head. "No."

"You were deep in thought there," Wilson pointed out and made his way across the room.

"She doesn't trust me," House said.

"Who?" Wilson paused. "Cuddy?"

House was still lost in his own thoughts, a frown on his face. "Yeah."

Wilson stopped near House's desk. "What makes you think-"

"Never mind." House pushed his chair back and brought himself back into the present.

"Is there a reason you want her to trust you?" Wilson asked cautiously, looking him over.

"When you stop analyzing me, will you come back into the conversation?" House swiveled his chair around and occupied himself with his bookcase. "Thanks."

"I'm sure she trusts you," Wilson spoke up. "After all, you're still hired here so obviously she trusts your judgement."

"Yeah," House called over his shoulder.

"Does this have to do with Sarah?" Wilson asked.

"No," House answered.

Wilson thought hard, arms folded across his chest. A realization crossed over his face. "Your Vicodin?" House didn't respond. "Why would Lisa think she can't trust you over your Vicodin? Did you do something that made her think-"

House swiveled back around. "I didn't do anything."

Wilson watched House carefully. "Then why did she think you did?"

"Because it's Cuddy," House replied. "She has a hell child so she's always suspicious of what someone else has done. Or what she thinks they've done."

"She thought you were high?" Wilson waited for a response he didn't receive. "Why would she think that?"

"We had a fight," House said. "I tried to fix it, but she was all over me. She's the one without the self control."

"You should talk to her about it," Wilson suggested.

"She apologized." House shrugged.

"For assuming something that was false, right?" Wilson made sure he understood.

House frowned, trying to hide his annoyance. "Siding with her?"

"No." Wilson shook his head. "I just didn't stop it the first time, so if there is any indication that you were-"

"Okay," House cut him off, understanding where the concern came from.

"Talk to her," Wilson repeated his previous words. "This isn't just about the mistrust. It's about Sarah."

"She's giving me a chance," House diverted his eyes from Wilson.

Wilson was slightly surprised. "Are you going to take it?"

House raised his eyes and shook his head. "No."

There was a loud knock on the door. Cuddy emerged from the kitchen and continued on through the dining room. Sarah anxiously looked up from her homework on the dining room table and towards her mother. She began to climb out of her chair.

"Can I get it?" Sarah asked.

"No, Sarah, it's late," Cuddy replied and stopped between the dining room and the hallway. "I'll get it."

"But, I want to answer the door," Sarah put on a sad face.

"Finish your homework," Cuddy instructed.

"But, tomorrow's Saturday," Sarah whined. "I don't even have school."

"I know, but we're going to Uncle James and Aunt Claire's house tomorrow for Jack's birthday party," Cuddy reminded her daughter.

The knocking sounded again. Cuddy waited until Sarah was seated with pencil in hand before heading to the front door. Cuddy unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"House." Cuddy stared at the man on her front porch. "What are you-"

"Dr. House?" Sarah stood just outside of the dining room. "Mom won't let me get a guitar."

"I said maybe," Cuddy replied to her daughter.

Sarah crossed to the front door. "That means no."

"No it doesn't," Cuddy said.

"Hey." House gave Cuddy a light tap on the arm. "Talk to me."

"About what?" Cuddy looked back at House.

"Do you want to play something?" Sarah asked, ducking under Cuddy's arm as it extended out to the front door. "I have Chutes and Ladders."

"Sarah, finish your homework," Cuddy stared down at the girl in front of her.

Sarah looked up. "Mom-"

"Now," Cuddy's tone hardened slightly.

"Fine," Sarah replied shortly and ducked under her mother's arm again before stomping back into the dining room.

"Definitely has your boiling blood in her," House commented, watching her go.

"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked, her eyes on House.

"Wanted to talk to you," he replied.

"About?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows.

"Can I come in?" House indicated

"No." Cuddy gave a short shake of her head.

"Okay." That wasn't the answer House was looking for.

"I can't do this tonight," she told him.

House let a sigh escape. "I drove all the way out here-"

"It's not that far," Cuddy interrupted.

"So you can close the door in my face," House finished. "I'm making an effort here."

"I know," Cuddy replied. "Just... not tonight. We have to do this at my pace. For her. Please."

"Mom!" Sarah called out from the dining room. "Can Dr. House help me with my homework?"

"No, honey, he's busy," Cuddy called back before placing her attention back on House.

"You were feeling guilty for making false accusations," House said, feeling dumb for believing Cuddy's words. "That's all it was."

Cuddy softened. "No, House-"

"When you're feeling guilty again and decide to be as kind as Satan can be, let me know," House cut her off and hurried from her porch.