Hello, all. I really don't have a good excuse for the length of time that this update took... All I can offer you is a sincere apology, and a nice long update... Thank you so much for sticking with me. I hope you like chapter eleven!

Disclaimer: I do not own either Bones or House.

Note: Since it's been... (checks last update) ...over a year since I've updated this story, let me remind you the time settings of these two shows. Bones is set after the Gormagon arc from back in Season Three, but is ignoring all the Zach stuff that went along with it. House is set after Cuddy loses Joy, way back then. Please enjoy.

Chapter Eleven: Rubber Bands, Rubber Balls

House shook his head at the obviously flustered anthropologist and her FBI bodyguard. He flopped down into his chair, resting his cane against the edge of his desk and running his hand over his bristling chin. A flatline on the table… There had to be something wrong with David's heart. And with the way the pudgy man was looking, he didn't have much time to figure out what it was.

House suddenly noticed his white board propped up against the wall. Cuddy. The side of his mouth curved up in a half-smile. She had remembered to remove it before giving FBI boy free reign in his differential room. He grabbed his cane and stumped over to the board, lifting it and placing it on his desk.

He glared down at the hastily scrawled words shining against the whiteness of the board and sighed grumpily. For some reason… he was getting the feeling that whatever was wrong with this man, whatever it was that was dragging David closer and closer to an untimely death, whatever it was that was dancing just out of reach… whatever it was was unbearably simple. And he couldn't figure it out. That irritated Gregory House. And when Gregory House was irritated… ducklings were shot down by the crossfire. He was about to rise and go off in search of his fellows and a bag of chips when a figure appeared in his doorway.

He stared. The little blonde girl stared back. She had to be maybe six or seven, with short cropped blonde hair and big blue eyes. She held a green iPod in one hand and was bouncing lightly along with the song that came from the slim white headphones. The headphones looked like they'd seen better days—bits of the white plastic had flecked off of the cord, showing the colored wires underneath. House briefly considered poking it with his cane before dismissing the idea. A crying little… thing was not something he wanted in his office. He attempted speech.

"Um, don't you have somewhere else to be?"

The girl simply looked at him, head bobbing to the song.

House leaned forward. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

The girl ignored him completely and wandered towards his desk. She picked up his rubber band ball and bounced it experimentally on the floor. When it returned to her hand, she giggled and bounced it again. And again. House glared and snatched the ball from midair.

"What are you doing here?" He snapped. The girl's large eyes widened and began to shimmer with unshed tears. House sighed. "Fine." He growled, handing her the ball back. "But come on. I can show you a much funner place to play."

The tears vanished and she smiled up at him, holding up her hand. House looked from the hand to her then back again. "You want me to… hold your hand?"

That smile again.

House shook his head. "No way. Come on, chickie." He stumbled towards the door. The little girl had grabbed and was clutching his hand anyway. The iPod was in her pocket and she was holding the rubber band ball like it was the best thing she'd ever seen. She turned her big blue eyes on him and House ground his teeth.

Damn.

"Anything?"

Brennan didn't even look up from her bones as she answered. "Tell him, Zach."

Booth glanced at the video feed screen from his position in the doorway. Zach beamed at him, his face a little fuzzy. "Hello, Agent Booth! How's New Jersey?"

"Zach."

"Right. Sorry." Flustered, Zach glanced down at something in his hand. "It's the murder weapon. Judging from the lacerations on the bone, it's something long and thin."

"Like a cord?"

"Yes." Brennan straightened up with a sliver of white clutched in a pair of forceps. "And more than likely made out of this material."

Booth stepped forward and peered at the white sliver. "Great. Ok. So we just find a cord that looks like this."

Brennan frowned at the evidence. "Zach, can you call Hodgins and ask him to…"

Booth felt his mind slip as technical jargon filled the small room. Instead of attempting to follow a conversation he knew he was not going to be able to, he gazed at the small piece of white something that may link Marylin to her killer. If he could only find the missing piece… that missing piece could put someone in jail for murder. One more bad guy off the streets. Booth's eyes flicked to the glove-encased hand holding the forceps. Then his eyes slowly moved up the arm to the shoulder, across the shoulder to the face. God, was she beautiful…

"Booth?"

Booth shook his head slightly and blinked. Brennan was gazing steadily at him, brow pinched. "Were you listening to anything I just said?"

Booth grinned faintly and shook his head. She gave him an exasperated look. "Booth…" She began, but abruptly stopped distracted by something outside the door. Booth turned to see Dr. House stumping slowly down the hallway, a small girl clinging to his hand. She clutched a rubber band ball and had iPod headphones trailing from her ears.

House glanced in the room and met Brennan's eyes. "Look what I found." He announced, slipping into the room. "A magical place where you can bounce that ball all you want."

The girl's eyes landed on the bones on the table and they grew wide. She clung to House tighter and buried her face in his shirt.

"House!" Brennan snapped. "Get her out of here! This is no place for a little girl."

"Yeah? Well, neither is my office."

"At least your office doesn't have decomposing bones spread out on a table! She could contaminate evidence we need!"

"So you're not concerned with the mental scarring of a small, innocent girl, but rather your evidence?" House grinned at Booth. "Nice partner choice, FBI boy. I sure hope you had the children discussion with her before you two started—"

"Shut up, House!" snapped Booth.

Brennan looked confused. "Started what?"

A sudden hiccup from the little girl froze the discussion and four pairs of eyes found the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Booth felt his heart soften. "Hey." He knelt down next to her. "It's alright. What's your name?"

She just looked at him, sliding shyly behind House's good leg. House tried to release her hand, but she hung on tightly.

Booth looked up at the doctor, if he could be called that. "Why don't you take her to your boss?" He suggested. "Ask Dr. Cuddy what to do with her."

House let a grin slowly take over his face. "Agent Booth… that may just be the best suggestion I've ever heard you make."

He tugged on the girl's hand. "Come on, you. Let's go find Dr. Cuddy. I'm sure she'd love to have you."

Brennan watched him leave, thoughts spinning. "What an interesting man." She said simply, turning back to her bones and Zach on the monitor.

Booth stared at her in disbelief. "Interesting? Are you kidding me? He doesn't care about anyone but himself."

Brennan shook her head. "I think… there is more to Dr. House than meets the eye, Booth."

Booth glared at the open doorway. Brennan, however, had already moved on to other more important things than pondering the mystery of Greg House.

"Zach? Get Hodgins. I need him to…"

Thump. Thump. Thump.

House ignored the shocked looks of the other doctors as he made his way towards his new destination—Cuddy's office. What a fantastic idea on Booth's part. House grinned to himself as he thought about the FBI agent's panic at House's insinuation towards a relationship. Oh, it was fairly obvious just how much Booth cared for his partner.

House turned a corner, feet following the familiar halls to Cuddy's office. Whether Brennan could see it or not… now that remained a different story.

House slipped into Cuddy's office without knocking, completely ignoring her secretary's stunned stare.

"Hey, Cuddy! Look what I found!"

Cuddy didn't even bother looking up from her papers. "House, whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait."

"Um, no, I don't think so."

Cuddy looked up… and the pen fell to the desk with a thump. "House? Please tell me you didn't kidnap her!"

She was around her desk and kneeling in front of him in five seconds flat. House let the situation sink in for a brief moment before forcibly yanking his mind back to the fact that he had a small unnamed little girl clinging to his good leg, and Cuddy's first thought had been kidnap.

"Kidnap? If I was going to kidnap one of these things, I'd at least get one that talked. And had a rich, yet attractive mother I could get a good ransom out of."

Cuddy ignored him. "Hi, sweetheart, what's your name?"

Silence.

Raising an eyebrow, Cuddy looked up at House. "What did you do to her?"

House raised his hands in defense. "I didn't do anything. She hasn't said a word since she decided my office was a fun place to play."

"Well, who is she?"

"How am I supposed to know? That's why we're here! Well, that and Temperance Brennan wouldn't play with her."

Cuddy was shocked. "You took her to the differential room? House, there's a dead body in there! No wonder she isn't speaking!"

House frowned. "Hey, I didn't make her stop talking! Maybe it's broken."

"Children don't break, House."

"They do too."

"Yeah, if you expose them to dead bodies!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"I would have thought that even you would have realized that a room with rotting bones would be a bad place to bring a small child."

"Whatever, Cuddy. I'm sorry I'm such a horrible person that you can't even stand to be in the same room with me!"

Cuddy froze. House was refusing to meet her eyes. He bit his tongue. Why had he said that? He'd been caught up in the flow of the argument and words had just come out—sarcastic, sure, but out they had come. Tsk. That was so out of character. He glanced into Cuddy's eyes and was surprised to see concern. What had he ever done to deserve her concern?

Well, this was getting uncomfortably close to an actual human moment. Time to slip back into their usual rhythm. But just as House was preparing a bitingly sarcastic comment, a disturbance behind him caused them both to turn. A slim teenage girl that House vaguely recognized as one of Lardbutt's visitors was fighting her way past Cuddy's secretary.

Cuddy slipped around House and opened the door. The girl fell into the room. "Trixie!" She cried. "Where have you been! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"And who might you be?" Cuddy asked.

"I'm Amanda—David Garth is my uncle."

The little girl—Trixie, apparently—backpedaled away from Amanda, clutching House's rubber band ball.

Amanda frowned at her. "Trixie is Marylin's daughter." She said quietly. "She hasn't spoken since…"

Cuddy looked blank, but House suddenly felt a rush of understanding. "Oh." He said simply. "That explains a lot."

Cuddy's eyes met his, a look of confusion prominent. "Marylin is the lovely lady currently stinking up my differential room." He gave her a pointed look.

"You offered." Cuddy muttered before turning her attention to Trixie. "Oh, sweetie." She murmured, sliding down on one knee. "Do you want to stay with me for a while?" Trixie studied her for a moment before nodding slowly.

House was surprised at the smile that lit up Cuddy's face. "Ok."

Amanda was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Um, can I have my iPod back?" She asked. "It's about to die anyway."

Trixie pulled off the iPod and wordlessly handed it to Cuddy, who in turn handed it to Amanda. "Thanks." Amanda looked relieved. "I don't even know how Trixie got a hold of it."

House stood awkwardly as Amanda left hurriedly, shoving the iPod into her pocket.

Cuddy stood up from where Trixie was bouncing the ball on the floor happily and faced House. "Now what?" She asked him.

House slowly raised an eyebrow. "Why are you asking me? I dropped her off here. I'm done."
"House, don't be ridiculous." Cuddy's voice rose slightly. "I'm busy! I can't just drop everything and—" The ball bounced away from Trixie and Cuddy scooped it up and returned it to the little girl without skipping a beat. "—take care of a little girl. You got me into this mess. You've got to help at least a little."

House stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "Cuddy, there's no way. Think about it. Little children hate m—"

House abruptly stopped talking as Trixie wandered over to him, the rubber band ball in hand, and slipped her little hand into his. She stared down at the end of his cane, fascinated with the flames that licked up its shaft.

Cuddy couldn't stop the small smile from flicking across her face. "Well, well, it appears that the impenetrable defenses of one Gregory House have finally been infiltrated. Imagine that.

House glared at her, decidedly un-amused.

"Cuddy." His voice dripped with disdain. "I can't exactly take care of her either. I have a fat man to save. Remember?"

"Fine." Cuddy turned around and rummaged in her desk for a moment, throwing a stack of papers into a drawer. Once she was satisfied that they were well stowed, she turned back to House and his little leech. "Trixie?" Her voice was kind. "Are you hungry?"

The little girl's eyes lit up and she nodded. Cuddy held out her hand and Trixie bounced over to her. "Let's go get some food." Cuddy met House's eyes. "Dr. House? I believe you have a patient to save?" She slowly raised an eyebrow.

House shook his head, trying to rid his traitorous brain of its involuntary thoughts. Thoughts of what would his life be like if Trixie belonged to him, and Cuddy was his… was nothing. Nothing.

"Yep. Patient. Right." House spun his cane once around his wrist and leaned down to peer into Trixie's eyes. "You be good for Dr. Cuddy, now." He said, mock-sternly. "I know what she's like when she gets angry."

Trixie clung shyly to Cuddy's arm and nodded. House nodded back and, without another word, slipped out of Cuddy's office. Maybe he didn't need that rubber band ball back just yet.

On the upside, I know exactly where both cases are going, if that's any consolation for my long waiting period.

Thanks for reading!

xoxo

Allie