A/N Just another peek into the lives of House, Cuddy and Rachel. I hope everyone enjoys it.

Disclaimer We've already covered this. If House was mine, I wouldn't be here.

Lisa Cuddy stood in front of her kitchen sink pealing carrots. She paused and looked out the window. Rachel would be old enough by spring for a swing set. Cuddy would have to research the different models available. She knew she could have one chosen and assembled in time for Rachel's birthday. She smirked as she returned to her carrots. Unlike some people, she would make sure the thing was assembled when it was delivered.

Cuddy didn't interrupt her work as two, strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind. She inhaled that scent that was uniquely his and tried not to melt as she felt that strong chest press against her back. She couldn't control a shiver as he kissed the shell of her ear.

"I hope my boyfriend doesn't catch you. He's awfully jealous," she managed to say as she tried to not cut off her finger.

"I'm not worried. I can take the gimpy bastard." The husky growl sent another shiver down Cuddy's spine.

She managed to stifle a giggle. "Don't underestimate him. He's sneaky. And, he's constantly changing tactics."

He placed a kiss to the side of her neck. That deep voice was amused when he said, "I think that carrot's dead already."

She looked down at the mangled remains in her hand and hoped he didn't see the blush that suddenly heated her cheeks. The man could fry her brain with just a look. When he turned on all the charm, Greg House was a weapon of mass destruction.

Cuddy leaned her head back onto his shoulder and smiled. "You should come with a warning label."

"Why? Are you thinking about operating heavy equipment?" He chuckled as he nudged her rear with his crotch.

"God, you're impossible." Cuddy tried to sound offended. "Remind me again. Are you fifty or fifteen?"

House laughed as he stole one of the carrots. "You should be impressed. Not many geezers my age could keep up a sex goddess like you."

She laughed out loud and wiggled her rear against him. "Well, I hope you're taking your vitamins, old man. You need your strength if you're going to keep up with a hot, young thing like me."

He nearly choked on the bite of carrot. One of the things he loved about her was that Lisa Cuddy always gave as got as she got. She would never be a passive participant in this relationship.

When he had finally managed to quit coughing, House looked around curiously. "It's awfully quiet in here. Where's Junior?"

Cuddy rinsed and dried her hands. She smiled at him. "Her majesty is overseeing her royal kingdom."

"So, if she's busy, how about we check out the laundry room?" House grabbed the waist band of her jeans and pulled her closer.

Cuddy made a few half-hearted swats at his roaming hands. "As romantic as that sounds, I think I'll pass."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" He tried to snake a hand under her shirt. "We could check out the spin cycle."

"I have a wide-awake toddler in the house. I don't have a sense of adventure." Cuddy gave him a lingering kiss. "But, if you're a good boy, you might get lucky later."

"I never get lucky. I'm just that good." House wore his most smug grin.

"Your ego knows no bounds." Cuddy laughed and moved back to the counter. Secretly, she agreed with him. He really was that good.

House pulled out a chair and sat. As he watched her putter around the kitchen he thought for the hundredth time that he was the luckiest bastard alive. After all the crap he had given her over the years, Cuddy should have run screaming from the idea of a relationship with him. For some reason, she had decided to give him a chance. He was determined not to screw this up.

Cuddy snuck a glance at his slouched posture. It was wonderful to see him apparently so relaxed. She stepped over one of the obscenely expensive athletic shoes that was in her way and put the container of carrots in the refrigerator.

"Wilson said you weren't moving too fast today. Is your leg bothering you?" Cuddy tried to keep her tone casual.

"My leg is fine. And, Wilson should mind his own business." House nibbled on his carrot.

"He worries about you." Cuddy handed him a napkin and a swatted the hand that tried to pat her rear.

"Wilson is a Yenta. I feel like I have my very own Jewish grandmother." House smiled at Cuddy's snort of laughter. The quiet in the rest of the house caught his attention again. "I'm surprised I haven't been attacked by your offspring yet."

"Marina said Rachel's been quiet today." Cuddy pulled a package of chicken strips from the freezer. "She's been like that since I picked her up from my mother's house yesterday."

"That old woman could suck the life out of a Mardi Gras party." House fiddled with the napkin. "I told you she could hang out in my office."

"You just wanted an excuse to skip clinic duty." Cuddy dumped the chicken on a cookie sheet. "Besides, the hospital doesn't pay a department head to babysit."

"Then why do I feel like a preschool teacher most days." House rose from the chair and liberated several cookies from the jar on the counter.

Cuddy watched him limp through the dining room and pretended she hadn't seen the covert activity at the cookie jar. She had no doubt as to his destination. Two casual mentions of Rachel's whereabouts meant House wouldn't rest until he had seen the toddler. She smiled and shook her head as she noticed the cane hanging from the trim above the dining room door. It looked like BubbieWilson had been concerned for no reason.

House strolled as casually as he could into Rachel's room and lowered his lanky frame onto the small sofa. He took a bite of cookie and looked around the girly space. Movement from the top level of the castle caught his attention. He ignored the brown eye that peaked around one of the spindles.

"I wonder where Rachel is," House mused aloud. "I guess I'll have to eat all these chocolate chip cookies by myself."

Rachel slowly unwound herself from a blanket and scooted down the slide. She crossed to the sofa and crawled up to sit next to him. House handed her a cookie and the pair ate in silence for several minutes.

"Are you mad at me?" He finally asked.

"No." Rachel shook her head and picked at the cookie.

"Are you mad at your mom?" House was concerned about the unusually subdued mood. He hoped she wasn't coming down with something.

Rachel again shook her head before she answered, "Grama."

"Ah." Now the puzzle had a starting point. "What did she say that made you mad."

The toddler heaved a sigh and looked at the cookie in her hand. "I dopted."

House looked down at the top of her head. "Anything else?"

"You nuts." Rachel shrugged those tiny shoulders and fell silent.

House popped the last of his cookie in his mouth and then picked the dejected toddler up and sat her on his good leg. Inside, he was seething. How dare Arlene Cuddy tell Rachel she was adopted? A two and a half year old would have no comprehension of the concept.

"Well, you are adopted," House stated casually. Rachel looked up at him and blinked those huge eyes. "That means your mother loved you so much she couldn't live without you. Of all the little girls in the world, she thought you were the most special. She decided you were the one she wanted to be her baby."

"Really?" Rachel smiled up at him.

House was surprised the memory made him smile now. "Really. I was there. She took one look at you and knew she was supposed to be your mommy." He gave her a goofy frown. "I thought you were kind of funny looking. No hair, no teeth, kind of squishy looking. But, not your mom. She thought you were wonderful."

He smiled when Rachel giggled. "And, your grandmother is right. I am nuts. Who else would think sleeping in a castle would be fun?"

Rachel looked from House to the elaborate bed. "No body."

"Exactly." House smiled. "Who else would give you cookies before dinner and watch Beauty and the Beast three times in one day?"

"No body." This time Rachel emphatically shook her head.

"See? I wouldn't be half as much fun if I was normal like everyone else." House smiled and pushed her bangs off of her face. "I would be a boring, old, sour-puss like Grandma."

Rachel giggled at the pinched, disapproving frown House used to demonstrate Arlene Cuddy's usual look. House wasn't surprised when the little girl stood on his leg and wrapped her arms around his neck.

His heart melted a little more when he heard the softly whispered, "I love you, Hows."

"I love you, too." He hugged her closer. "You come and talk to me next time you're upset. Okay?"

Rachel nodded her head against his shoulder. He patted her thin back. "Now, why don't you play until dinner's ready? There's something I need to go do."

House helped her hop down and watched as she tried to climb back up the slide. He stood and was already pulling his cell phone from his pocket at he limped from the bedroom. He was glad he had been able to hide how angry he was from the toddler. House headed to the one place he could find some privacy and shut Cuddy's bathroom door behind himself. He leaned against the vanity and tapped one foot against the floor as he dialed.

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Cuddy was tossing a salad when House limped his way into the kitchen. She was shocked when her usually calm boyfriend snatched up the receiver to her suddenly ringing phone and immediately slammed it back down. Her hands went still and her eyes were wide as she watched him turn off the ringer and then proceed to pace the kitchen.

"House?" Cuddy had never seen him this angry. "What happened?"

"Your mother happened." House resisted the urge to punch the refrigerator.

Cuddy laid the salad tongs in the bowl and watched him carefully. He looked like a mountain lion caught in a cage. He was all sleek lines and barely controlled power.

"What did she do?" Cuddy's tone was resigned. This was her mother after all.

"That woman," House bit out, "told Rachel that she's adopted. And, she apparently she thought it would be a good idea to tell Rachel that I'm nuts. Her words, not mine."

"Oh, God." Cuddy placed a hand over her eyes. "I have to talk to Rachel."

House stopped her before she could move past him. He quickly related everything he had said to the distraught little girl. Cuddy allowed him to pull her into a loose hug.

"I also called your mother," he admitted and felt her tighten her hold on his waist.

"I guessed. The way you attacked my phone was a pretty good clue." Cuddy pulled back far enough to look up into those eyes that were still flashing like blue flames. "I'm sure that went over well."

"She already hates me. I figured I could say what I wanted. Arlene has to learn to keep her mouth shut. I'm not going to let her ride the crazy train when Rachel's around." House was still shaking with anger. "For future reference, I did mention supervised visitations. Just thought you should know."

"She needs someone who's not afraid to stand up to her." Cuddy laid her forehead on his chest. She didn't want to freak him out with her reaction to his overprotective streak. "She's had free reign over our family for far too long."

"I guess this means I won't ever be her favorite son-in-law." Cuddy's head popped back up and she nearly laughed aloud at the panic stricken look on his face. House looked wildly around the kitchen for any means of escape. "Ah…not that…I mean…I don't…" he stammered.

Cuddy took pity on him. She patted his shoulder. "I know, House. Calm down. You're about to hyperventilate."

She placed a quick kiss on his lips. "I'm going to go talk to Rachel. Why don't you finish getting dinner ready?" Cuddy stopped in the dining room and turned back to him with a mischievous smile. "You aren't going to skulk out the door the minute I'm out of sight are you?"

"Woman, I'll have you know, I don't skulk. I flat out run like a coward." House wiped his damp palms on the seat of his jeans. "But, no, I'm not going anywhere."

House waited until Cuddy had disappeared before he let his head hang. He leaned over and beat his forehead lightly on the counter top. He cursed his own big mouth. Sometimes he really wished he had been born with an internal sensor like everyone else.

Cuddy slipped into Rachel's room and immediately spotted her daughter playing on the top level of the castle. She spared a second to curse her mother for, once again, putting her in an uncomfortable situation. She wasn't ready to have this conversation.

"Hi, Baby." Cuddy leaned against the front of the balcony. "Can I talk to you?"

Rachel hurtled down the slide and ran to her mother. Cuddy led her to the sofa and sat. Rachel waited patiently.

"Rachel, House told me what your grandmother said." Cuddy wasn't surprised when Rachel looked at the floor. "Honey, I'm not mad at you. I'm very glad you told House what was wrong."

"Grama a sour-puss," Rachel informed her mother very primly.

Cuddy tried to stop the laugh that nearly escaped. "Where did you hear that?"

"Hows," Rachel innocently informed her mother.

"Of course," Cuddy muttered. "You shouldn't call other people names. It's not nice. Do you understand?"

She waited until Rachel had nodded. Cuddy knew Rachel was too young to understand the circumstances of her birth and the concept of adoption. And, even though it surprised her, House had done a wonderful job with his explanation. He seems to be a natural at explaining things so Rachel could understand.

"Your grandmother shouldn't have said what she did about you and House. Honey, I love you very, very much. You are the most important person in the world to me. I'm very blessed that I get to be your mommy." There would be more conversations when Rachel was older. Cuddy hoped this would suffice for the time being.

"I special," Rachel said with a huge smile.

Cuddy laughed and swept the toddler in for a hug. "Yes, you are. You are very special."

"My Hows special." The little girl's eyes were wide with sincerity.

"Your House, huh?" Cuddy laughed when Rachel enthusiastically nodded. "Well, 'your' House probably has dinner ready. Should we go see?"

Rachel gave an excited squeal. "He cook?"

"No, honey." Cuddy helped Rachel slide to the floor. "I cooked. He just finished it up."

"Oh." Rachel gave her a look that didn't bode well for a cooperative dinner time. Cuddy tried to not be offended by the sight of her tiny daughter trudging to the dining room like a condemned prisoner heading to the gallows. She had to secretly had to admit her that her boyfriend was as brilliant in the kitchen as he was in the hospital…and the bedroom. She couldn't stop a giggle as she followed her daughter in search of their favorite cook.

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After dinner Cuddy had taken her cell phone into the bathroom for her own heated conversation with her mother. Apparently, whatever House had said had made an impression. Arlene Cuddy had apologized for a conversation Rachel had overheard. Cuddy noticed her mother didn't apologize for calling House nuts. She let that one slide for the time-being. She had to admit that House's idea of supervised visits had merit. She wouldn't allow her mother's negative attitude have harmful effects on Rachel.

Now, hours later, Cuddy collapsed onto the broad chest beneath her. She tried to slow her labored breathing. Tiny aftershocks still shook her slight frame. She stretched into the large hand that was gliding up and down her back.

"See? I told you I'm that good." His voice was smug.

Cuddy shook with laughter. "And, so modest, too."

When she would have slid to the side, House wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "About what I said earlier…"

Cuddy raised and propped her chin on her hands. "House, I know you were joking. I've heard you expound on marriage enough to know you weren't serious."

"So, you're okay?" House still looked concerned.

Cuddy ran the toes of her right foot down the outside of his left thigh. "I think I'm slightly better than okay." After she had thoroughly kissed him, she smiled down into those gorgeous, blue eyes. "I think we're doing fine the way we are."

She had to stifle a moan when he slowly rolled his hips upward. House gave her a wicked smile and she felt his deep voice rumble in his chest as he asked, "Want to try for better than fine?"

"You really are fifteen," Cuddy giggled and then moaned again as his talented fingers began to wander. She managed a quick prayer of thanks for twenty years of foreplay.