A/N-Hey all. I'm in the middle of my work travel, so here's an update, but it's not a very long one. Thanks, as always, to all of you who encourage me to keep going, your words are thoroughly appreciated. Thanks to all of the reviewers of the last chapter: IHeartHouseCuddy, BabalooBlue, jkarr, JLCH, jaybe61, JM, Guest, CacauHousemaniaca, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, ikissedtheLaurie, Huddylovelover, lenasti16, freeasabird14, KiwiClare, HuddyAleja, Little Greg, bladesmum, Ann, oc7ober and Tami.

-Ending Homelessness-

Cuddy had never harbored secret hopes of a friendship with Sam, but her lack of interest in Wilson's girlfriend was quickly becoming complete and total dislike. Wilson was leasing out the loft that he had purchased from under Cuddy. She wasn't terribly upset to see the loft go because, in all honesty, it was a reminder of her relationship with Lucas and the complicated mess that her life had almost become. But she was angry about the reason why.

Sam considered the loft a bachelor pad, and she wanted Wilson to sell it so the two of them could move into her home. Cuddy quietly listened while House told her he was worried about his friend and what was going to happen, but she tried to put House's fears at ease while inside she was harboring her own anger. Sam seemed to be manipulating Wilson into doing whatever she wanted, and House was paying the price. He made jokes about being dumped by his best friend, and tried to act like none of it bothered him, but it was painfully clear to Cuddy how hurt he was. At the same time, she saw Wilson and wondered if House's assessment was correct, and Wilson would end up hurt too much by this relationship to ever recover.

Sam and Wilson stopped in Cuddy's office unexpectedly one Thursday afternoon and informed her that the loft would have to be emptied by Saturday because the tenants were taking possession on Sunday. They had informed House of the deadline, but Sam wanted Cuddy to be sure House followed through. At that point, Cuddy was furious that Sam had put her in that position. Cuddy was protective of her hospital, of her daughter and certainly of House, particularly since they had started dating a few months earlier. He seemed more vulnerable since he got clean.

House showed up at Cuddy's that night, tired and achy. He sat on the sofa next to her, leaning his head against her shoulder, "Why don't you greet me at the door, naked and horny, with a home cooked meal ready for me anymore? Is the magic gone so soon?"

"I have never done that."

"Why not?"

House looked down when he felt Rachel pulling up on the sofa. Cuddy pointed at the girl, "My daughter may factor into that since she's often here at dinner time. Also my self-respect."

"This isn't a sexist request. I would cook and serve you dinner naked."

Cuddy wrinkled her nose, "My advice? Wear an apron. Don't burn anything I might need."

"You worry too much," House said, lightly pushing Rachel back each time she tried to move closer. Rachel would always giggle at this game until she realized she wasn't really getting what she want and then she'd become angry.

"Move in with me. You have some stuff here already, you're over almost every night. We should make it official," Cuddy floated the idea.

House shook his head, "Where did that come from?"

"I dunno. Move in with me."

Looking at Rachel, he told her, "So I pick on you and your mom tries to convince me to be here more often. You should probably be insulted."

Cuddy sighed, "You're always here anyway. It's largely a formality."

"Wilson or Sam?"

"Hunh?"

"Who talked to you? Wilson or Sam?"

"I saw Wilson at the departmental meeting you were supposed to be at, why?"

"Which one of them asked you to make sure I got my crap out of the loft without going off the deep end?"

"That's not why I'm asking."

"Wilson or Sam?"

"Both. I think they just wanted me to help you."

"They wanted you to babysit me."

"I can't stand her either," Cuddy admitted, "but I don't know what to do. This isn't my choice, this is Wilson's choice. So all I can do here is make sure you're alright."

"I'm not helpless," he spat back, "I don't need any of you watching out for me or making sure I do what I'm told. Tonight…tonight is exactly why I have my own apartment. I'll be at work tomorrow, I'll see you there."

Within two minutes, House was out the door, leaving behind a confused toddler and a very concerned Cuddy. At first, her irritation was focused on Sam, but as the night wore on, she became more frustrated with House. By the time Rachel was in bed, Cuddy knew there was little chance she'd get any sleep. She meditated, answered emails and scrubbed her tub, but still felt irritated, so she took a bath.

It was after midnight when she began to soak. She brought in two candles and poured a glass of wine, determined to treat herself to something soothing. She was in the water, just beginning to feel the heat of the bath permeating her tense muscles, and she heard noise outside of the bathroom door. He opened it without knocking and she whisper-yelled, "I can't have any privacy in my own bathroom?"

"Well, clearly you're happy I don't live here too," he drunkenly answered.

She sunk down into the tub, closing her eyes and trying to ignore him, "You can sleep in the guest room. I hope you didn't drive here like that."

"Taxi," he answered, "but at least this time when I came back, you were naked."

"If I would have known you were coming back, I would have locked the door."

House lowered himself to the floor next to the tub, groaning from the pressure on his leg.

"Go away," she ordered, "I want to finish my bath in peace."

"One minute you want me to live with you and the next you want me to go away? You're sending mixed signals. Or proving to me that you only asked me to move in because you felt guilty that I have to leave Wilson's."

"Well, you chased me like you couldn't survive without me, but the second I mention a more formal commitment, you run away. You were fine with practically living here, but actually living here is horrible. Talk about mixed signals." She sat up in the tub and added, "What happened to the guy who told me that I should date him for a few months and then ask him to marry me?"

"Your breasts look amazing by candlelight. I'll add that to the list of other lights your breasts look amazing in…incandescent lights, fluorescent lights, flashlights, no lights, spot lights…"

"And now we're going to talk about my breasts," she huffed, sliding back down into the bubbles, "this is a mature way to handle this discussion, thank you for taking it so seriously."

"Harder to see that way," he replied using the tips of his fingers to try to create a space in the bubbles that he could look through.

"You aren't helping anything. You're just making me angrier by replacing an argument about something that could have been an important moment in our lives with rude sexual comments."

"My mind is naturally drawn to rude sexual comments when you're naked in the same room. Or naked in a different room. Or in the same room but not naked. Sometimes you aren't in the room or naked."

She splashed water on her face, "Let me make this clear, there is no way I am having sex with you tonight. Does that help clear your mind at all?"

"So you're going to punish me by withholding sex?"

"No. I'm not going to have sex with you because you're drunk, and I'm definitely not feeling amorous."

He put his chin on the edge of the tub, "Why'd you do that? Why did you buy into the belief that I couldn't handle this?"

Her head rested against the back of the tub, but she turned to face him, "I could have accepted 'no' or even 'let's wait a few months,' but I deserved an answer. You handled it by getting drunk. Hardly a fantastic coping mechanism."

"Not my best response. Not the worst either."

"Would it be so bad if, on top of wanting to live with you, some part of me didn't want you to feel hurt? You didn't even bother thinking of that."

"I'm not that fragile."

"No one said you were. I'm hurt, does that make me fragile?"

"You're upset about Wilson?"

"No. You hurt me," she said, shaking her head and looking away.

"Because I needed a night to myself?"

"Not that. Because you were so upset about the thought of living with me that you left to go drown your sorrows. Then you come back here and think you can compliment my body and I'll fall into your arms?"

"If it would have been a real offer, it would have been different. I don't need you to protect my feelings."

"It was a real offer. The circumstance was a convenient excuse for me to bring it up. And we could have had that discussion, put Rachel to bed and spent hours together, exploring those sexual thoughts that fill your mind. Then we could have talked about where to put your piano. That's how I was hoping that would all turn out."

His head stayed on the edge of the tub, his eyes remaining on her, but his expression was heavy with sadness. Cuddy soaked in the tub, running more hot water from the tap to heat the bath again. Ignoring House had always been a difficult thing to do. When she looked at him again she said, "You don't want me to care about your feelings? Stop looking at me like that."

"I don't want my girlfriend to feel sorry for me and take me in. I don't want your pity."

"See it how you want."

He sat back, "You seriously wanted me to move in?"

"I wanted us to talk about it, consider it. Instead you decided to take offense to it and leave."

"I wasn't offended. I just didn't think it was a genuine offer."

She sat up, grabbing his chin with her soaking wet hand, "Part of me didn't want you to get hurt, but living together is something I've been thinking about a lot since we practically do it anyway. Sam and Wilson moving in together was a good time to bring it up. I don't feel like talking about it anymore tonight. Sleep here, go get some rest."

"In the guest room?"

"In my bed. To sleep. I'm hurt, and I need some time, but it doesn't change how I feel about you."

House was hungover in the morning, and they were meeting at the loft to pack his belongings that night. He and Cuddy rode over together after work. She wasn't necessary cold, but he could feel the protective distance that she put between them. He packed his room quickly because he didn't really have that much there. Cuddy was carrying the small boxes out to the island in the kitchen.

"What are you doing with this?" Sam questioned, poking the organ with the tip of her shoe.

"Do you have room for it?" Wilson asked House. "You could put it at Cuddy's so you have something to play there."

House looked at the instrument, and Cuddy came up to him when he didn't answer. "You could leave it at my place for now. As long as you know that Rachel will probably want to play with it."

"Your place?" House responded. She closed her eyes slowly, hoping that they weren't going to repeat an argument like the one they'd had the night before. House nodded subtly but with certainty, "She can use it."

"You want that monstrosity at your place?" Sam asked with a pretentious tone.

"Are you talking about me or the organ?" House asked.

Sam tittered artificially.

"So when's the big day?" Cuddy asked, intentionally transferring the focus of the conversation. "I guess I should congratulate you. You aren't going to announce the good news?"

"Honey," Wilson approached Sam, "House was under the impression that we were…getting remarried."

Sam awkwardly shook her head, "We've…talked about it. That is our direction. Isn't it?"

"Sure."

House and Cuddy watched the uncomfortable looks between Wilson and Sam. Sam's arms were crossed and her body language was stiff before she huffed, "Time to say goodbye to the frat house."

"Where did you go to school?" Cuddy asked. "I remember frat houses, and they weren't anything like this."

There was a loud knock at the door when the movers arrived, interrupting the tension-filled room. The movers took the organ to Cuddy's and even dropped off House's boxes at his apartment. After Wilson and Sam continued on with the moving van, House and Cuddy stood in his apartment in silence.

"I'm officially on my own again," House commented into the air.

"Congratulations," Cuddy answered. "I know a lot has happened since Mayfield. I think you're doing really well."

She was fidgeting with items on the shelves in his living room when he stood next to her, similarly examining his belongings.

"Now that I'm officially not homeless I think you should move in with me," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure."

"I'm serious."

Cuddy looked around, "I don't think this is big enough."

"I want you to move in with me at your place."

"Don't worry about last night," she started, "I'm alright."

"This is not about last night. Last night, you were offering to let a guy who was homeless move in with you. Now I have a home again, but I've decided the home I actually want to live in is with you. And what's her name. That kid who keeps waking me up at unnatural hours."

"Don't feel pressured into this. Take some time to think about it."

"I didn't want you to come rescue me. Now I don't need you to because I have my own place I can live in. But what I want is to live with you. So I'm done thinking about it. It's your turn to think about it, and you can let me know."

House opened one of the boxes that they had just brought back from Wilson's and put a book on the shelf near Cuddy. She picked it up, put it back in the box, and put the box under her arm, "I'm done thinking too. Let's go home."