Hello again, all! As always, thanks again to all my readers and fabulous reviewers (from the last two chapters, as I've fallen behind): maddoggirl, crazychicken-79, AR, FriendsHolic, Huddytheultimate, willywonka3435, gabiroba, HigherThanSoulCanHope, Cath Cuddy, hyper.much911, Elliesmeow, Nikelodean, CaptainTish, coco1116, Abbeyannmd, gidget89, huddytilidie, thevigilante15, kirby russell, bijouterie, porkpie, csi7, Shikabane-Mai, and Dmitrivna.

For those who were wondering: the boy has tripped up both House and Cuddy during the course of the story - and that was supposed to be his only function, until he suddenly developed a side-story of his own. So it goes...

Chapter 9: Interpose

A sudden thump wrested Cuddy's attention from the voice droning sleepily in her ear. She had been quickly and diligently signing forms in order to plow through the mountain of paperwork that had found its way to her desk during the course of the morning, but stopped mid-signature.

The small boy she had tripped over the day before stood wide-eyed outside her office, pressed up against the glass. House loomed over him like a nightmare – no doubt not meaning to appear as threatening and sadistic as he did. That the scene didn't surprise her was almost exhausting than the thought of having to deal with it.

Quickly muddling through an apology to quiet the still-buzzing voice on the other end of the phone, she nimbly invented an administrative emergency and hung up the phone. Slipping her feet back into her shoes – a few shoeless moments a luxury she rarely remembered to allow herself, but always relished when she did – she rose tiredly from her desk and crossed the room, opening the door to House's all too familiar voice.

"… so much for superhuman speed and cool web action. Can you do anything a spider can?"

House had turned the boy, who stared up at him, his face now completely devoid of fear or any other emotion. His large, sunken eyes flicked in Cuddy's direction as she approached, and although House's back was to her, she knew from the way he cocked his head that he could tell she was there.

"What do you think you're doing?"

House stared at her as if the question were absolutely absurd. "There was an itsy bitsy Spider-Man peeping in your window. I'm washing him down the waterspout before he could get any ideas."

She put a hand on her hip, mirroring his expression. "He's four, House."

"That shirt – " Still keeping a hand on the boy's shoulder, House leaned forward, practically nosing his way into her cleavage. Foolishly, the thought of moving didn't occur to her until too late. This fact, of course, wasn't lost on House, who leered suggestively while continuing. " – or should I say the lack thereof – could start the hormones raging in an infant. I'd stay out of the maternity ward if I were you. Geriatrics goes without saying."

Steeling herself, she tried to regain a modicum of authority and composure. "I was in the middle of an important phone call – "

"Did the clinic run out of cotton swabs again?"

"No," she immediately bit back. "The pharmacy never received its Vicodin order."

He had had a comeback at the ready before she had spoken, but her comment snapped his mouth shut faster than a sprung bear trap. Nearly forgotten, the boy made a small sound, something between a hiccup and a gasp, gazing from her to House and back again. House's disbelief transformed into a grin, and he shook the child gently, stage-whispering conspiratorially. "She thought she had me."

"I almost did."

"For about two seconds. Spidey'll back me up." He directed his attention to the boy again. "You can count to two, right?"

Shrinking from House's gaze but still inexplicably not trying to escape, the boy continued to watch both of them, looking as if any moment he would tear from House's grip and launch himself into Cuddy's arms – a turn of events she wasn't quite sure she was ready for.

"Let the boy go, House. You're scaring him."

"Scaring him? Little Spidey and I are old friends now."

Cuddy swore she could see skepticism streak the boy's tiny features, resulting in a strange facial expression when mixed with fear, freckles, and baby teeth. "I'd ask if you usually terrify your friends, but that would be assuming you have more than one."

Again, House whispered loudly to the boy, and again those two dark eyes nearly doubled in size. "She thinks she's so smart…."

Rolling her eyes, Cuddy crouched down to the boy's level and smiled warmly. "Who's supposed to be watching you?"

"You can ask him all the questions you want, but it won't do any good."

She ignored him, continuing gently. "What's your name?"

"He's the strong, silent type." House insisted, leaning down and sniffing loudly, making a face. "And smelly. Been here for at least two days, but without a bath for a lot more."

Sadly, House was right. The boy was dirty, his hair unwashed and sticking up in all directions, his hands and thin face spotted with a sticky, grimy residue – no doubt all that remained of more than a few free lollipops from the clinic. Cuddy tensed, biting her lower lip, and waited for House to jab at her, brazenly insulting any hospital that let a four-year-old wander its halls unquestioned, spiraling into a tirade against the said hospital's administrator that was only half in jest.

The caustic remarks never came, the hushed hum of activity that surrounded them continuing undisturbed. Staring at the boy's worn sneakers, she felt an instant cooling as the heat of House's gaze left her, looking up in time to see him lean down, his face almost touching the boy's. "I'm Dr. House. By day, I slave away in this hospital, but at night…." He paused, glancing up at Cuddy as if her presence were an intrusion, turning to try to edge her out of the conversation. "I can't tell you everything – there are spies everywhere here. All I can say right now is that my…." He lowered his voice and made a point of trying to speak without moving his lips, instead emphasizing the next word with wide eyes. "… powers… let me see through three things: lies, fake superhero disguises, and women's shirts. The last, of course, is the most useful on a daily basis."

Whether because of the startling revelation that the fearsome doctor not only had super powers, but had not yet delineated whether they were used for good or evil, or simply from House's frighteningly overwhelming demeanor itself, the boy was obviously awed and somewhat shaken. Backing away slowly, he bumped into Cuddy's knees. He turned and regarded her carefully before sliding his large eyes back to House. "He's scary."

House screwed up his face and stuck out his tongue, following the child's lead by speaking to her as well. "And he smells."

She couldn't help but laugh at this nearly equal exchange between two children: one of them over six feet tall and in need of a shave, to be sure, but both clinging to the same cartoon, frog-and-earthworm, and green-plastic-army-man level of maturity.

"We get that complaint a lot." Cuddy answered, reassuring the true four-year-old and ignoring the full-grown child. "Don't worry – he likes to think he's tough, but he wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Don't lie to the kid, Cuddy." House turned to the boy, almost menacingly. "I hate flies."

"Me too," the boy answered solemnly, as if this admission were some kind of pact that only the two of them would share.

"And you thought we weren't friends," he accused teasingly, grinning at her before becoming suddenly serious. "The jig's up, Spidey. Your cover's blown – we need a real name."

"I like Spider-Man better."

"And I think Dr. Dre has a gnarly ring to it. Unfortunately someone else got to both of those before we did." He bounced his cane on the hard linoleum, the boy's eyes following it. "If you won't tell us your name, we'll have to give you a new one, and I'm not making any promises you'll like it."

If this was meant as a threat, it failed – the boy patiently waited for House to continue.

"Now, the name-giving process involves a careful medical examination…."

Cuddy watched as House brought a hand down to the boy's arm, swiftly removing it when the child flinched. Flicking his eyes to hers, House nodded once, and she gently brought her fingers to the boy's bony elbow. Her touch didn't seem to startle him, and he didn't protest as she gently lifted his shirt.

"First," House continued, "you count the eyes and fingers, inspect the back and torso for freckles, birthmarks, and, in your case, radioactive spider bites…."

Cuddy sucked in a breath, House not needing more than that to follow her gaze, his voice barely skipping a beat as he grimly met her eyes. A ring of small, circular burns marred the otherwise smooth, still baby-soft skin of the boy's back, just below the shoulder blades, continuing under his arm and around to his chest, a few faded, but most still encircled by tender, irritated skin.

"The most important part is the belly button: innies are consonants, outies vowels, and if you don't have one, we skip the whole name thing and send you straight to the lab for testing."

The boy cocked his head, staring up at House. "You're weird."

"You're short and annoying," House shot back. "I don't make the rules."

"Usually you don't even follow them," Cuddy interjected pointedly, standing but keeping a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.

House responded with a snap of the fingers. "I've got it."

"What?" the boy asked eagerly.

Pausing for dramatic flair but not waiting for a drum roll, House relayed the result with deadpan humor, though Cuddy could see the smirk fighting to curl the corners of his lips. "Susie."

The child's face crumbled, couldn't have fallen any further if he had been refused a puppy or just discovered that Santa Claus was little more than a figment of the imagination. "That's a girl name."

The sad look on the boy's face didn't seem to penetrate House's tough exterior, though Cuddy didn't know why she let that surprise her. Two days ago she would have been shocked if House had so much as hinted at concern and affection for another living being – herself included. He looked the boy up and down carefully, nodding. "Life ain't easy for a boy named Sue, but I think you can pull it off. Look at Cuddy. You can barely tell – "

"Don't," she warned, intent upon narrowing her eyes, but failing when she met his lopsided grin.

"Just trying to make the kid feel better," House replied, bending towards her and forcing the words out of the corner of his mouth.

Growing more daring, the boy stepped forward and tugged on House's pant-leg. "Can I change it back?"

House looked understandably taken aback at the child's sudden bravery, but recovered quickly. "But you make such a cute little Susie."

"Please?"

"Fine," House sighed, feigning annoyance. It might have fooled the boy – visibly relieved and elated at being able to shed his unfortunate new name so easily – but Cuddy could see right through the act. "Only because I'm tired of hearing you whine. So what d'we call you, Susie?"

"Ari."

"Seriously? No wonder you like Spider-Man better. Cover your ears," he ordered suddenly, and Ari obeyed somewhat hesitantly. "Kids are stupid."

"No, I'm not!" Ari protested, obviously not having followed orders as well as they had first thought, hands over his ears but fingers now spread. He and House were becoming more alike with each passing second.

Handing her his cane, House clapped a hand over each of the boy's ears, holding the curly head steady as the boy tried half-heartedly to shake it free, finally stilling. "Stupid and annoying."

Cuddy watched the two of them, shaking her head slowly as she met House's amused stare. "How did you….?"

"Give me a break," he cut in, correctly anticipating the rest of her sentence. "You accuse me of being a child at least twice a week. Of course I can beat one at its own game."

But all this had been so much more than that. Every moment with him was a surprise. Something she should have been more than used to by now – but usually his surprises came in the form of broken rules and medical equipment, red-faced patients and family members. All of a sudden, there were thousands of facets and delicate layers to the sarcastic, thick-skinned Gregory House – shimmering and barely visible, fragile as the wings of a dragonfly – and she was able to peel them back and peer underneath, not by force or prying, but simply because he was letting her, staying still long enough for her to come close.

She smiled softly, wishing intensely, unexpectedly that they were pressed together as snugly as they had been that morning, that he had a free hand to reach out and brush against her, even if only for an instant. Ari fidgeted, drawing her attention to him once again, and she sobered quickly, speaking softly in case House's hands weren't, in fact, soundproof. "I need to call Child Services."

"Give me twenty minutes."

She watched him curiously. For once, there was no battle of wills, wits, or words, no inane arguments or pointless banter. She couldn't resist offering up a tired, cautionary "House…." But it was a feeble attempt at appearances more than anything, and what was more – he knew it.

"Trust me."

No single two words from him – spoken seriously – could have thrown her any more off balance, and she could feel her cheeks reddening, knew that was something she couldn't hide. She fingered his cane, distractedly twirling it as he would have.

This time, she was the one to deflect the matter at hand, not with sarcasm or a question, perhaps, but with a return to what the inside walls of Princeton-Plainsboro knew as normality. "If you're doing this to get out of clinic duty or avoid your patient…."

"Pleading the Fifth on clinic duty. Patient – " All teasing was suddenly gone from his voice. " – is a smoker – though he'll deny it. Don't let the kid out of your sight."

Her eyes fastened on his, neither of them blinking, and they spoke more in those few seconds than they had with all the words of the past ten minutes. The next thing Cuddy knew, House's hands had slipped from the child's ears to just under his waist, and the boy was thrust into her arms. Surprised, she would have dropped him if he hadn't looped his thin arms around her neck, hanging on tightly.

House exchanged the child for his cane, tossing it from one hand to the other. "You can call her Dr. Cuddly. It's her special nickname. And if she gets cranky…." He leaned in close to the boy's ear, speaking so softly that as near as she was and as hard as she tried, Cuddy couldn't hear a word. House straightened with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows at her and leaving without another word, actually heading off to do his job without being forced or even told.

Ari sighed and leaned tiredly onto her shoulder. The warm weight of his body was strange, but not unwelcome. He swung his feet, his shoes lightly hitting her thighs. "He needs a time out."

"You have no idea."

She watched House continue down the hallway, swinging his cane as he waited for the elevator, much to the chagrin of those nearby. The doors slid shut on his smile – a soft, reassuring grin he had tossed her way just a moment before that she hadn't had time to return.

"Dr. Cuddly?" Sticky fingers were on her chin, pulling at her before she could turn. "Why do you even like him?"

"What makes you think I like him?" she asked quickly, irrationally. None of her staff was within earshot and the only reason a four-year-old's question should put her on the defensive was if she didn't know the answer.

Ari shrugged, grinning shyly, as if he were embarrassed to point out something so obvious. "He makes you smiley."

Never fear - we're getting close to the end. Or at least are well over the halfway point. Thanks for sticking with this so far, and please review if you get a chance!