A/N-Thank you so much to all who have favorited and followed this new story, and to all who left a comment: IHeartHouseCuddy, jaybe61, Huddylovelover, OldSFfan, BabalooBlue, linda12344, LoveMyHouse, ikissedtheLaurie, housebound, lenasti16, LapizSilkwood, Huddyphoric, Abby, THE Nick' Amaral, MissBates, iridescentZEN, HuddyGirl, grouchysnarky, freeasabird14, Alex, Jane Q. Doe, JLCH, bladesmun, Guest, MrsBock, JM, Boo's House, HuddyAleja, Ann, and dmarchl21.

Thanks for your continued patience. Here's the next chapter.

-Half-Way-

House wondered if Cuddy would continue ignoring his obvious intentions exactly as she had since his return from Mayfield. After all, he had expected something to come from his confession as they'd danced one evening, and all that had come from that was humiliation without the buffer of pain-reducing chemicals between reality and the man who continued to exist after Vicodin was gone.

But she didn't exactly disappear after they started spending time together. Occasionally she'd stop at his table at lunch, or they would exchange words somewhere in the hospital corridors. They even continued meeting after work when both of their schedules permitted. Nothing really progressed either, and part of him wondered if she was trying to prove through persistent, casual interactions that they were friends in spite of his denials.

She walked down the hall late one afternoon, her heels clicking purposefully toward whatever task was on her current to-do list. Her forward motion was ceased and reversed when one precise hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her into the janitor's closet. Practically running into House's chest, she struck as much of a defensive pose as she could before she realized who had pulled her inside.

"What in the hell are you doing?" she half laughed while her racing heart rate returned to normal.

"I was doing important stuff when I heard you stiletto-ing by."

"What sort of important stuff?"

"A cross between hide-and-go-seek with my team and a zen–meditation retreat."

"There are too many chemicals in here for that. Next time I go for a retreat weekend, I'll have to invite you. I don't think you quite have it right."

"A weekend away?" he asked as if the thought was scandalous, "it's a little early in this relationship to suggest that. I might get the impression that we're getting really serious."

She smirked in a way that was both friendly and cautionary, "So was there a reason you dragged me in here, or was this just for kicks?"

"Tonight, if you're free, dinner?"

"I am free."

"Does that mean yes?"

"Sure."

"You've planned most of our dates so far, so I'll figure out this one."

"This is not a date."

"OK. Rendezvous? Get-together? Tryst?"

"Let's go with get-together. What time and where?"

"Wilson's. Six-thirty."

"Sounds good," she answered with a quick smile. She turned to leave the closet and paused when something dawned on her, "How do you know Lucas is busy tonight?"

"Luck?"

"You guessed my password again, didn't you? Did you listen to my voicemail?"

House shrugged and stared, offering no solid answer in reply.

"See you later, House," she said they walked out, right into the path of Chase, who did nothing at all to mask the knowing look on his face.

"Inventory," she explained quickly before she sped off down the hall.

Chase stared at House, "That closet's a popular spot."

"Were her legs weak? Was she flushed with an afterglow of extreme satisfaction? Was she acting as though she'd had a revelation of life-altering significance?"

The younger doctor looked on with skepticism, "No, she looked bored and humiliated, which is why I assumed she'd just had sex with you." House turned with a scowl that dripped with some form of pride before Chase held out a patient file and said, "It's definitely not scleroderma."

Cuddy showed up at Wilson's door with an expected addition: Rachel. House opened the door when he heard the knock, his eyes swooping momentarily over the little girl on Cuddy's hip before returning to Cuddy. He tilted his head to invite them in, emotionlessly.

"Marina couldn't stay late tonight," Cuddy explained, "I just found out and I didn't want to cancel last minute."

"It's fine," House answered. "Besides, when you date a woman who has a kid, the kid is obviously going to be around sometimes."

"We aren't dating-"

"When you're rendezvousing with a woman with a kid?"

"Where's Wilson?"

"He's taking Sam to do something really Sammish."

"Could you watch Rachel for a second? I need to use the bathroom." He reached out, taking the somewhat suspicious child from Cuddy's arm. If he had any feelings at all about the child's presence, either positive or negative, it wasn't apparent in his expression.

"Use mine," House pointed in the right direction before walking toward the kitchen. Cuddy wasn't gone long, and when she returned, the child was sitting on the counter between plates, watching while House dished out food. As she came closer, Cuddy could see Rachel was chewing something, the remnants of which could be seen through the messy smile.

"What's she eating?"

"Probably dog food or a dead mouse or something," House answered.

"You don't have a dog."

"I keep a bag around for when kids visit. Which is not often, so it's probably expired." He waited in front of a dish that was covered and told her, "Close your eyes."

She sat on the stool by the kitchen island and looked at him with great distrust.

"What exactly do you think I'm going to do?" he scoffed.

"I don't know."

"People say I have trust issues."

She closed her eyes, nervous rigidity emanating from her. Rachel giggled and spit at whatever House was doing, but he didn't make a sound. The air around Cuddy actually seemed to change when he stood directly in front of her.

"Now," he said with a tone of conspiracy, "all I need to do is figure out how to get this into your mouth."

Her hand went up in front of her, her eyebrows lifting with some concern, but her eyelids remaining shut.

He snickered, "Open up."

Her lips opened slowly, barely parting until she smelled something delicious in front of her. She leaned forward, biting off the food that touched her bottom lip, and she immediately offered a gibberish-filled approval. Her eyes opened, looking down at the remaining piece of fried plantain that he held. "Where did you get these?"

"You said there weren't any restaurants around here that served them, so I made them. Is this what you were talking about?"

"It's even better," she gushed, taking the second bite of food from between his fingers, a voluntary move that seemed to surprise him. "You knew how to make these?"

"I didn't, but it turns out there's more on the internet than porn. Who knew?"

Cuddy looked at her daughter, who was watching the two adults quizzically. "There's a child present."

"Which is why I didn't stick anything more exciting in your mouth," he teased. "I don't think she'll be too scathed by me saying the word 'porn' once before she was even old enough to remember the word."

Ignoring him, Cuddy responded, "These plantains are so good. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Help yourself. The kid likes the mashed up plantains. Unless there's something else you want her to have?"

"That's great."

"I'll get her a knife, and she can serve herself," House answered, looking up and finding Cuddy smiling happily. "What?"

"This is nice."

Dinner was informal. Rachel stayed on the counter, eating whatever could be mashed up enough for her to eat. House and Cuddy sat at the counter and found that conversation was even easier than it had been the last time they had eaten together. There was a peculiar balance between a feeling of being completely at ease while entirely uncomfortable.

After dinner, Rachel started whining unhappily. "I better go," Cuddy said, regretfully, "she's tired, I have to put her to bed."

"Or she can have my bed," House offered, "so her mother can stay up and play for a while."

Cuddy looked like the suggestion was a poor one, but after a few moments of uncertainty replied, "We can try it."

The girl was so sleepy that it only took a few minutes for her to settle. Cuddy built walls of blankets and pillows around the slumbering girl so she couldn't roll off the bed. House watched as all of the preparations were made, fascinated and somewhat entertained by the extent and thoroughness employed.

Her eyes remaining on the bed as she stepped away, Cuddy seemed concerned about leaving the child. "I hope she's alright there."

"We could staple her clothes to the bed to make sure she doesn't roll away."

Cuddy glowered for a moment, a look that faded as she came closer. He was leaning against the doorway, waiting as she asked, "What do you want to do now?"

His gaze crept along her face, settling on her eyes in a way that was filled with admiration and longing. Bumping his arm casually with her elbow, she walked past him into the living room. Pieces of her guard seemed to be disappearing the longer they spent time together. She stopped in front of the electric organ Wilson had bought, pushing down on the silent keys. "Do you play?" he asked as he turned on the instrument.

"Part of 'Chopsticks' maybe…if I'm lucky. Is this gonna wake Rachel?"

He hit another button and shook his head, "Nah, go ahead."

Standing over the organ, she managed to play 'Happy Birthday' with only a few miss keys.

"Impressive," he commented with a smirk. "I had no idea you were so musically gifted."

"I have plenty of other strengths that make up for what I lack musically."

"I won't argue that." House sat down on the bench, "Play it again."

She offered the suggestion more consideration than required, but eventually slipped into place next to him. "You want another chance to make fun of me?"

"Not right now. I'll do that after you play."

She began, slowly finding the notes to the song. He placed his right palm flat on the bench behind them so she could feel his forearm brushing along her hip. His left hand hovered over the keys for a few seconds before he started to add an appropriate bass line. She smiled at him when she was finished, sinking into the feeling of closeness between them.

He slowly played a very simple bass line a few times through. "Try that."

When she started playing the notes with her right hand, he shook his head disapprovingly while he lifted her left hand from her lap and placed it on the keys. "Now do it," he instructed, playing it again so she could mimic the notes.

After a few tries, she was able to play the song using both hands, smiling at him with surprise and pride.

"Too bad it's not my birthday."

"I can come back and play it then."

Before he could respond, his phone rang. When he answered, his eyes darted to her for a second before he told the person on the other end, "OK. Just keep an eye on things for a few more hours."

He hung up immediately, pointing at the organ and encouraging, "Do it again."

His fingers rested on the keys as he waited. She lifted her hands to a similar position, but she quickly dropped them in her lap, "Was that Lucas?"

"Who?"

She glared an admonishment, "Was it?"

"It may have been someone who answers to that name."

"You hired him to do something tonight?"

Before House managed to mount a defense, he asked, "Exactly how angry are you?"

She traced a few black keys with her index finger and then turned toward him, "I should be angry. But I had a nice evening."

"So we don't have a problem. Let's play."

Largely because she wasn't sure what to say, she began to play again. This time, he played with her, adding notes to the song that transformed it to something new and beautiful that she couldn't have managed on her own. When the song was over, she asked, playfully, "So these are your new moves?"

"Cooking is definitely a new move. But if you mean the music lesson, that is a really, really old move."

"How old?"

"High school."

"Does it usually work?"

"Depends on the girl. Some girls you invite to lacrosse games, some you impress with your medical magic, some you give piano lessons to. It's about knowing your target female."

"For this female, you made really good choices."

"To you, my medical magic is old news, and I can't really play lacrosse anymore."

"You can't send Lucas on a mission every time you want to hang out."

"I won't have to once you break up with him."

"What do you expect me to do?"

"That wasn't a metaphor. I thought I was pretty clear about what I think you should do."

"It's not that simple."

"It is, I'll sum it up for you. Break up with him. Date me for a few months, declare they're the best months of your life and ask me to marry you. Seems really simple."

Her eyes popped open with surprise, "Seems a bit fast."

"I don't do half-way, Cuddy. You know that."

"I'm trying to make good decisions. I'm trying not to hurt anyone."

"And in the process, you're hurting me."

"I need to think things through, make the right choices for my daughter."

"That's not it. You want to keep him because he's safe, but you still want me because I'm who you really want. You're going half-way to vacation and deciding to stay at the airport on a layover just in case there's bad weather at the final destination. I don't want to settle for half-way. Half-way never, ever works for me. Half-way is my leg. Half-way leaves me with something useless, ugly and painful."

"I'm sorry about your leg."

"Now that actually was a metaphor. I'm not looking for an apology. I didn't have a choice about my leg. That decision was made for me. I don't want to wait around for someone to choose the safe route here too. I can't let the rest of my life turn out like my leg."

"I'm not the answer to your pain."

"I'm not asking you to be. A lot of my life is about pain, but this isn't. This is about something…different."

"Things have changed, House. You need to understand that I'm trying to get to know you now that you're not popping Vicodin like candy."

"OK, I can help you with that. I'm me…minus the Vicodin."

"How do I know that this isn't just a game that you're playing with Lucas?"

"Do you really think that?"

"I don't know. I do know that I'm always most appealing to you when you think you can't have me. I also know that you and Lucas have a history of competitive behavior."

"So I'm doing all of this to get to Lucas and then I'm just going to forget about you?"

"It's what I'm prepared for. I wasn't prepared for these evenings together. I didn't expect any of this. And…I guess I'm not sure if it's real, or if I'm part of a bigger game."

"If you think that's true, then why are you here?"

"Because…I can't stay away. I can't stop thinking about you…about what could be. I like this. I want this." Eventually she turned toward him, clearing her throat and adding, "I'd like it to be real."

One corner of his mouth turned up, his hand returning to the bench between them as he leaned a little closer. "So what's the reality litmus test? Maybe you should just give things a try and then you'll see that this isn't a game."

Their lips brushed momentarily, her fingers surrounding his chin to stop his forward progress. "I need to resolve some things before starting anything else."

House faced forward, rubbing the scruff on the side of his face, clearly disappointed. The back of Cuddy's hand bumped his arm to get his attention as she explained, "Give me a few days. I'll talk to Lucas tomorrow. Thursday morning, I leave for a presentation in DC. When I get back, we can have dinner, talk."

"Sure," he agreed, seeming to accept the inevitability of defeat for the moment.

"If something were to happen between us tonight, we would be starting a relationship with an act of infidelity. It sets the stage for future mistrust."

"We can count this as a warm up, and actually start the real relationship when you get back from your presentation."

She smiled and shook her head, the fact that she was tempted to accept his offer was apparent in everything about her demeanor.

Sensing a crack in her resolve, he added, "You should probably take a test drive anyway, so you know what you're getting. Buyer beware."

"You aren't defective," she argued with unanticipated severity.

He was too stunned to respond, but her phone pierced the silence. Slipping off the bench with a quick apology, she went to her purse and sighed worriedly. Her voice was flat as she answered, "Hey Lucas. Are you done with work?"

She fidgeted as she listened to him, finally replying, "I'm out for dinner with someone from the hospital. Rachel's with me."

Her fidgeting ceased at whatever Lucas said next. House could see how uncomfortable she became before she walked to the window near the kitchen and gazed down at the street below. Lifting her hand, she waved with one gesture across the glass. "He is someone from the hospital," she explained.

Cuddy faced House, offering a non-verbal apology as she kept the phone against her ear, finally replying, "I was leaving soon anyway. I'll meet you at my place, we can talk there."

With little pause, she hung up the phone, gathering her things to leave. "I'm sorry, but this is exactly why I need to take care of him first."

"So what does this mean for me? For…you and me?"

Stopping her preparations, she stood in front of him to ensure she had his attention, "It means the same thing it meant before he called. In a way, it's good. This leads into the conversation I need to have with him."

"Yea," House answered, dejectedly. "I can keep Rachel here, if you want. She's already sleeping."

The depth of his gesture touched her, she could hear in his voice how reluctant he was to make the offer, "It's OK. We'll be fine."

He watched as she walked to his room, a feeling of impending unhappiness filling his mind. Catching up to her, her pulled her away from his door and pushed her against the wall, "Just in case you decide I was the mistake instead of him-"

He lowered his lips to hers, finding that she was not resistant, but eagerly wrapping her arms around his neck and returning the kiss. Their breaths were heavy with want, each engaging in more contact than was probably appropriate, but so much less than what was truly desired. Their mouths parted regretfully, his arms still tightly around her waist and hers still draped over his shoulders.

"Do you have any idea how much I wish I could stay tonight?" she asked.

"So stay."

"And we would have a great time. But in the morning, you'd find out that you're half-way, which is exactly where you don't want to be. You're right, you deserve more. We both do."

"Sometimes the words you choose to remember are the worst ones."

"I know," she replied, her smile fading as she saw the defeated look on his face. "Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine. When I get back from DC, we'll see each other."

It only took a few minutes for her to get Rachel and leave the apartment. He watched from his window as Cuddy put her daughter safely into the car seat and left.

Wilson and Sam came in a few minutes later. After Sam disappeared down the hall, Wilson asked, "Was…Cuddy here?"

House leaned back into the sofa, "Yup."

"I thought I saw her leaving. How was that?"

"Fine."

"Does her visit indicate anything in particular?"

"I'm not sure. She only seemed interested in dancing around the apartment, wearing nothing but your ties and a pocket protector. Of course pocket protectors are particularly difficult to use when one isn't wearing any clothing…"

Wilson scowled, "Part of me thought that without Vicodin you would be more mature about the disturbing statements that you make. The ones that leave images in my mind that are always a bit more difficult to get rid of than I want to admit."

"Oh, I'm definitely more mature. If I was still on Vicodin, I would have told you that we used one of your ties in depraved explorations of our lust, but I wouldn't tell you which tie." Exasperated, Wilson began to walk away until he heard House add, tentatively, "It might mean something. I don't know. I guess I'll find out when she's back from DC."

Wilson returned to the room, "Right, the presentation. And until then? She doesn't actually expect you to wait patiently for her return."

"It seems that way."

"Well, I know how comfortable you are with taking a wait-and-see approach," Wilson answered with dripping sarcasm. He added as noncommittally as possible, "Rachel is staying with her grandmother for a night while Cuddy is gone. I guess she'll be staying all alone at the Fairmount in Georgetown Thursday into Friday…where she will also be speaking Thursday afternoon. Anyway, I'm going to bed. Good night."