A/N: Thanks everyone for your lovely comments! Sorry I haven't had time to reply personally recently -- travel has kept me busy and now jet lag is keeping me tired!

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At seven, House ordered Indian food to be delivered. He had no idea what Kitty liked, so he ordered several dishes, figuring he never minded having leftovers. Kitty arrived at the same time as the delivery guy, giving House a preoccupied kiss on the lips when he opened the door. She had her BlackBerry in her hand and was frowning at it.

"Want to eat?" he asked.

"Sure. I just have to deal with a couple of emails."

House messily served out a couple of plates of food, annoyed by her distracted air. He handed her the food and she gave him a grateful smile.

"Thanks, I love Indian." She finished typing a few more words, hit send, and then put her BlackBerry to one side.

"It's lamb rogan josh, chickpea marsala and chicken vindaloo."

"Yum." She began eating heartily. "I've had such a busy day, no time for lunch," she explained between mouthfuls. "This week is going to be hell."

"Why?"

She frowned at him. "Because of the fundraiser on Friday," she said, as if he should know all about it.

Which, he realised, he probably should. "Oh yeah, that."

"Did you read through the stuff I sent you today? I thought it would be useful material for your speech."

House looked away. There was no way he was making any speech, but he wanted to have sex later, so he figured there was no point bringing that up now. "No, I was busy today. Had a patient, actually it was this famous author—"

Kitty held up a hand as her phone rang. "Sorry." She answered it and got up from the sofa, pacing around in front of the windows as she went through an involved conversation about vegetarian meal requirements for Friday night.

House kept eating and turned the television on after a couple of minutes when her conversation showed no sign of ending any time soon. Kitty made an annoyed noise and frowned at the TV before walking down the corridor towards the bedroom. It was almost fifteen minutes before she returned.

She bent over and kissed him on the cheek before picking up her plate and sitting down again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get irritated. It's your place, of course you're allowed to turn on the TV. It's just I've been having issues with the hotel for Friday and that was the catering manager telling me that they have problems with the menu for vegetarians."

"And it can't wait until business hours tomorrow?" House was annoyed. He could watch TV and eat dinner on his own any night. It wasn't how he'd imagined this evening turning out.

"I don't know, Greg. When one of your patients is sick, can it wait until business hours?" she replied, just as terse as he'd been.

"Jeez, who got out of bed on the wrong side this morning?"

She frowned at him. "What's the matter with you?"

House sighed. He decided to change the subject, to move on to what seemed to be part two of the Andrew Barnes-Kitty Brecht puzzle. "I got this delivery at work today. Do you know anyone who would—"

Kitty's cell phone rang again.

She bit her lip and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I'll turn it off after this."

"Catherine Brecht." Kitty answered the phone, rising from the sofa and walking off down the corridor again. House overheard her laughing in a very forced way and then talking rapidly about table decorations. From what he could hear, something was silver when it should have been gold, and from the sounds of things this was very bad. He heard her finish up that call and then she yelled out to him.

"I just have to make one more call. Keep watching TV and I promise I won't be much longer."

He heard her begin talking again and he shook his head. This was definitely not what he had in mind. He knew that the mysterious delivery he'd received that day had to be sorted out, but he had somehow imagined that there would be a simple explanation for it. They'd discuss it, it would be resolved. And then they'd have sex. He hadn't taken any of his new prescription yet, and was glad of it. If anything could make him more annoyed than he already was, it would be sitting there watching TV, eating Indian food alone, with a hard-on going to waste as well.

House decided enough was enough and got up from the sofa, heading down the corridor. He found Kitty lounging on his bed, her back to him, shoes kicked off and feet tucked underneath her. She was frowning, talking cajolingly into her phone, trying to convince someone to do something or other – House wasn't paying attention. Instead, he crawled on the bed behind her, lifted her hair and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, being sure to rub his scratchy chin and top lip against her soft skin.

She gasped, interrupting her conversation for a moment, and shrugged her shoulders, trying to push him away. "I'm sorry – yeah, it's fine, keep going."

House wasn't impressed that he'd had such little impact so he reached a hand around and grasped her breast, squeezing it hard. She flinched and slapped his hand, but House was pleased to hear her wrap up her conversation.

"Sorry Donna, I'm going to have to go – can we catch up further about this tomorrow? If you could call the supplier and let me know how you go, that would be great. Thanks. Bye."

She turned around to look at him and was clearly unimpressed. "That was an important phone call, Greg."

"I'm important too." He pouted and reached out to put an arm around her waist.

Kitty stood up, away from his touch, and put her hands on her hips, clearly pissed. "Believe it or not, it's not all about you."

"Of course it's all about me," he joked, but then his smile faded.

He thought back to the patient that day. Foreman's words: House, it's like she was practicing. Waiting for you. House's brain rapidly made the connections. Andrew Barnes wasn't just substituting Kitty for the son he couldn't have. It wasn't just about bringing her into his life to fill whatever gap he thought existed because his biological son was being raised by John House.

Kitty was wrong.

It really was all about him.

"He was practicing," House said, as realisation dawned.

"Who was? Practicing what?" Kitty asked, with a frustrated sigh.

"Andrew Barnes."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Kitty." He stared at her, realising that Andrew Barnes really had been as calculating and as callous as that. His father.

"What? I don't understand."

"Yesterday – you told me that Barnes took you to a few family events, right?"

"Yes," Kitty asked, clearly still uncertain where House was going.

"But his family rejected you."

"Yes."

"They rejected you, his chosen substitute daughter, someone whose qualities he admired but who wasn't an actual blood relation."

"Ye-e-s," Kitty said slowly.

House grimaced at her, realising he needed to take a couple of steps back in his reasoning to help her understand. He took in a deep breath and let it out. "You told me that Andrew said I was a successful doctor – driven and ambitious, right?"

Kitty nodded. "He really admired that in you." She sat down on the bed again, leaning against the bedpost. "Look, is this going to be another rehash of all that? Do you really need your ego stroked—"

House interrupted, not paying attention to her questions. "He said the same thing about you. Or if he didn't say it, he saw it."

She shrugged. "I guess. I always wanted to make something of my life. And when med school wasn't an opportunity any more, I did my best at grad school."

House reached out and grabbed her hand in both of his. "Kitty, don't you see it? You dropped into his life like a 'do over'."

"What?"

"He had a son, an ambitious and successful doctor, that wasn't part of his life. He was disappointed in the children that were part of his life. And then you appeared, a med student, smart, ambitious and needy – all he had to do was help you out financially and you became indebted to him. Not only that, he could introduce you to his family, see how they reacted, see if they were prepared to accept you in their lives."

Kitty frowned at him, clearly mulling over his words. "So you think I was like a rehearsal? To see what would happen if he publicly claimed you as part of his family?"

"Exactly."

Kitty seemed unconvinced. "But what about . . . ?"

She trailed off, but House knew what she was asking. "I don't know why he made you do the things he did. I don't have any explanation for that other than that he was an asshole."

"He did it because he could," Kitty said simply.

House nodded. "Yeah."

They stared at each other for a while.

"So I'm just a pale imitation of you?" Kitty asked with a shaky laugh.

"No, no. It's not that. It's just—"

"Yes. That's what you're saying. He wanted you. I was just his trial."

House could see Kitty was trying to hold herself together but the cracks were beginning to widen. Her hand trembled in his and her eyes filled with tears.

"Crap." House swore under his breath. He'd done it again – blurted out his solution without any regard for her feelings. He recalled the photo frame in Kitty's bedroom and remembered that for her – despite what he'd done – Andrew Barnes was as close as she'd come to having a father. And House had just told her their entire relationship was an artifice.

"I'm sure he loved you," House said, backtracking awkwardly, trying to make things better. He felt a surge of guilt, not on behalf of Andrew Barnes, but for doing this to her, making her understand the reality, while at the same time he was positive it was for the best. As hard as it was, she needed to know that if Andrew had been a real father figure, he wouldn't have shared her around.

Kitty shook her head. "No, not really, he didn't. You wouldn't make someone you loved give blow jobs to your friends, would you?" She looked at him accusingly.

House shrugged, knowing there was no need to answer.

"I knew he didn't love me," Kitty continued. "But I . . ." She trailed off.

"Kitty, I'm no expert on fatherhood. Shit, I've had two of them and they've both been crap in their own special ways. But the one thing I've learned is that it doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter," he said firmly.

Kitty wrenched her hand out of House's grasp and stood up. Without making eye contact she twisted her feet back into her shoes and walked away.

At first House thought she might be going to the bathroom. Her face was pale; maybe she was going to throw up. But then she kept walking. He barely realised what she was going to do before he heard the front door open and close.

He sighed. He thought about going after her, but he didn't know what that would achieve and, he figured, if he was in her shoes he might just like some time alone. He got up from the bed and limped back into the living room, grabbing a beer from the kitchen along the way. He turned on the TV, hoping to find something mindless to distract him, wondering when – if – she'd come back.

-

-

Kitty didn't know how far she walked. Only that at some point she'd turned around and begun retracing her steps. The night was freezing cold, not quite icy but not far off. She was only wearing the suit she'd worn to work and her heels. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was blindly aware of a blister on her toe and that the cold was beginning to sink inside to her bones, but mostly she was too blank to care.

The problem was, everything he had said made sense. Except for one thing.

It did matter.

Andrew Barnes's role in her life had played a major part in the woman she'd become – everything from the job she had to the way she faced the world. Just when her life had been turned upside down, her mother leaving her forever, he'd been there to catch her before she fell. And Kitty knew she would have fallen far and hard. She'd have had no way to pay the debts of her mother's medical bills. She'd have had nowhere to live. No qualifications. No confidence. And most scarily of all, she'd have been alone.

Funny how that was the one thing she was most afraid of and yet she'd built herself a life based on it, never letting anyone close, never letting anyone see the real "Kitty" behind Catherine Brecht.

Until recently. And she needed him now so much it frightened her.

Before she knew it she found herself back in front of a green door, knocking hard, her numb knuckles vaguely registering the hurt.

It took him a while to answer the door and when he did he looked sleepy, but she could hear the television was still blaring away.

"Kitty?" He reached out and pulled her inside, eyes widening as she stepped into the light. "You're freezing." He looked her up and down, letting out an irritated sigh, before grasping her hand in his. "What, did you think hypothermia was fashionable this season? Coz I have to tell you, frostbite is so last year." He kept up a silly monologue as he led her into the bedroom, leaving for a moment to head into the bathroom. Kitty heard the rush of water filling the bath and then he was back, quickly stripping her clothes off.

"Come on, get in the bath. It's only lukewarm, but if I make it any hotter you'll go do something stupid like have a heart attack on me. I know I promised to show you how to have a bath, but this wasn't quite what I had in mind."

He helped her like she was a child, getting her to sit in the bath and making sure her hands and feet stayed out of the water at first.

"I didn't want to be alone," Kitty said, between clenched teeth. She looked at him, sitting on the edge of the bath as he adjusted the temperature of the water, desperately hiding his concern for her behind a mask of silly banter. He cared about her, Kitty could tell, and more than anything that was what she needed. The bathwater might be warming her skin, but he was what was warming her up from the inside.

"I know," he said quietly, meeting her eyes for the first time. She could see that he understood, he knew that he was wrong. Not about Andrew's motivation, but about how important it was. He looked away and instead ran his hands through the water and grasped her wrist. She realised he was checking her pulse and the capillary refill in her fingers and that it must be okay, because he nodded to himself.

"Let's warm it up a little." He adjusted the taps to add more hot water and let her hands and feet submerge.

The water still wasn't deep enough to cover her body and Kitty had begun to shiver. Somewhere in a rational part of her mind she realised that was a good thing, and the fact that she hadn't been shivering earlier was possibly cause for alarm. No wonder he'd looked so anxious when he'd opened the door. She must have been practically blue.

Kitty closed her eyes and concentrated on the warmth of the water, its heat soaking into her, and the muttered words from him. He kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation about Tensing Norgay's secret Nepalese treatment for hypothermia, interspersed by regular reminders of what an idiot she was for getting herself into this state in the first place.

Every now and then he nudged her. "Kitty? You still with me?"

He seemed satisfied as long as she managed to mutter some kind of answer. Kitty knew she was fine, but she just didn't have the energy to struggle as she normally would, she couldn't find the strength to pull herself together. So she just lay there, cold and naked and broken, as exposed to another person as she'd ever been.

After a while Kitty began to feel more normal She realised that what had just happened wasn't just physical. Something had thawed within her, some frozen part of her that she hadn't realised was there. A block of ice that she'd carefully built around a section of heart was gone now, leaving room for something new. It was both wonderful and terrifying.

He nudged her again. "Come on, time to get out. I'll help you a little, but you need to hang on to the wall or something if you get dizzy, cause I don't want us both to fall over in here."

"Okay," she managed to say hoarsely; she was more than familiar with helping herself through dizzy spells. She got out of the bath with only a touch of light headedness, and dried herself off, then followed him into the bedroom, pulling back the covers and climbing under them. She watched mutely as he limped back out of the room and heard him turning off the TV and the lights. He returned, stripped off all his clothes and then climbed into bed, spooning her from behind. Of course, it wasn't really necessary, she was more than adequately warmed up now, but Kitty wasn't about to protest.

"You were wrong," she said quietly. "It does matter."

His body tensed and he took a deep breath in before releasing it in a rush and relaxing against her again. "Yeah, I know. But Kitty? It's a hell of a lot easier to pretend that it doesn't."

Kitty nodded.

They both lay in still silence for a long time before either of them fell asleep.