Disclaimer: I do not own House MD or any of the characters, but I sure as hell wouldn't mind owning Hugh Laurie!

A/N: Hello guys! So here's the new chapter, I know I haven't updated in a while (by my standards, anyway), but here I am, back and happy to report that this is the longest chapter so far. It's setting up again, for something I hope you'll like. I'm not sure whether to consider this a very eventful chapter or not. Because psychologically, there's a lot going on with these characters, but really, action wise, there isn't that much … well, I'll let you be the judge of that, after all, when I read my fics, even months later, I fail to see them like other people do …

Anyway, I'm off to proof read it and post it … please keep the lovely reviews coming, and I'll try to keep the Huddyness coming as frequently as possible …


Thanks, and Enjoy!

Breakfast ended at about 10 am. And for a few seconds, the two doctors just sat there, occasionally looking at each other, taking sips of the last of their orange juices and revelling in the contact their bodies had beneath the table.

Eventually, they had to break apart and the feeling that enveloped them as Cuddy stood and House reached for his cane, took them both by surprise. It was like everything had gotten colder all of a sudden, and that wasn't even taking into consideration the fact that it was technically still winter. They immediately missed the other's touch, and both found their minds rushing over the different ways to regain the much needed contact.

As Cuddy started to wash the dirty dishes, House hesitated on his spot by the table. He already had his cane hovering a few inches of the floor, ready to head in her direction, after all, he had already learnt, from experience, that women appreciated a man who helped around the house. But yet, a part of him was holding him back. It could be too much. Not just for him, but for her. He was giving this a try, but no one knew that. If she realised it, and he came to the conclusion that he just couldn't do it, it'd be bad; very, very bad.

"Uh …" he started, that was a good way to go, he figured. Ask her. If she wanted help, he'd give it. If she didn't, he'd go sit in the living room and, for the 50th time in three days, contemplate his life and what the hell he was going to do with it.

Unfortunately for House, Cuddy was already on the defensive. She was scared that she was reading too much into his actions. She was scared that if she became sure of their meaning and reciprocated some kind of affection, that he would retreat and it would all end up meaning nothing. So she took his hesitant "uh" as meaning that he didn't want to help her but thought he had to offer, rather than as him wanting to help her, but not knowing how to say so.

"It's ok" she said, her eyes fixed on the plate in her hands as she stood at the sink, her back to him "I'll be done in a minute"

Looking at her for a few more seconds, House moved out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. Normally, he would have moved into the living room, but his earlier action of moving the TV to her room had now made it basically mandatory that he stay there. After all, when one distraction is busy washing dishes, go with the second best one.

Just as he stole the pillow from Cuddy's side of the bed and placed it behind his back along with the spare one, House felt a vibration on his belt and looked down to see his pager blinking on and off.

Foreman

House thought about it. He had said that he didn't want to be called before 10, and it was a little past 10. So the ducklings had followed his orders. But he still didn't want to answer. Especially not when he heard the water stop running in the kitchen followed by the sound of bare feet on a wooden floor. Heading his way.

Switching his pager off, House looked to the doorway to see Cuddy walking in, quickly wiping her slightly wet hands on her trousers.

"Don't you have work to do?" she asked him, unsure of what on earth to say.

Looking quickly at his pager to ensure that it was turned off and wouldn't betray him, House shook his head "I told them not to page me until they had results. No page, no work" he reasoned.

And again Cuddy was lost for words. She had kind of hoped that he did have work to do. Not that she wanted him to leave, but she knew that at very least she'd be able to get a good 10 minutes of arguing with him about it before he made the decision to stay or go. But this, him just sitting there and nothing to be said between them, that wasn't something she knew how to handle.

Actually, that wasn't entirely true. Rather, it was true that she didn't know how to handle it, it wasn't true, however, that they had nothing to say to each other. In fact, it could be said that they had a lot to say to each other. But those conversations didn't seem like a very likely option, not really, not when the people concerned where two of the most stubborn human beings ever born.

And that brought another thought into Cuddy's mind. If they were as stubborn as all that, would the baby also be? Would the little baby growing inside her be the same as his or her father? The same as her? A mixture?

As he saw the smile grow on her face and her hand move to her stomach, House realised what Cuddy was thinking about. Well, he didn't actually know the specifics of it. But he was pretty sure it had something to do with the, uh, foetus.

And with a sudden surprise, he realised that he was back to calling it a foetus. It was just easier. If he was going to leave, if he was going to distance himself, he would have to revert back to that. Baby was already too personal and, if you think about it, 'baby' doesn't even individualise the being. House really was in danger of getting attached.

"Do you really think it'll be a boy?" Cuddy asked him, catching him completely off guard. After everything he'd been thinking, beginning a conversation about the baby was the last thing on his mind. It was the very last thing he needed.

"Uh …" he stuttered a little as Cuddy sat down on her side of the bed and looked at him "… I don't know"

Cuddy sighed and leaned back. Then stopped.

Looking over at House she saw a smirk cover his face as she straightened again. Reaching over to his side, she grabbed one of the pillows and tried to pull from behind him. But here merely leaned back on it more.

And all of a sudden, there was a game to be played again, awkwardness was gone and they had something to fight over.

"House, come on" she said trying to take the high, adult road.

When he didn't budge and simply pressed the 'on' button on the TV remote, she tried to push his arm away from her as she pulled the pillow towards her. Again, fail.

Meanwhile at the hospital, Foreman was pacing angrily in the conference room. He had the results, in fact, he'd had them for over two hours. House had asked not to be bothered until 10 am. He had, begrudgingly, followed his orders. But now he was just angry.

"So …" started Kutner, as always, looking around like a lost puppy "… what do we do?"

It took a few more moments for anyone to speak, eventually, it was Taub who finally broke the silence.

"Wilson" he said

"What?" asked Foreman, his mind too busy thinking of ways to get back at House to process what Taub actually meant "our patient doesn't have cancer …"

Now it was Thirteen who cut in "Not for the patient … Wilson could get House here" she said looking around at her other two colleagues as Kutner nodded and Taub looked at Foreman, waiting for an answer.

"With a patient" came Wilson's voice from the other side of the door. But no one seemed to take notice.

As the four diagnostics fellows opened the door, sure enough, they found a middle aged, balding man sitting in the patient's seat as Wilson scribbled something on a piece of paper.

"I know this is probably a bad time …" started Thirteen as Wilson suddenly looked up shocked. This was the kind of behaviour he'd learnt to expect from House, not from his fellows.

"…uh" started Kutner "… we can't find House …"

"And you thought I might be hiding him away in here?" asked Wilson looking at his patient with an apologetic look "well, I'm not … so go look for him somewhere else."

His distracted tone as he looked back down at the sheet told the four other doctors that they weren't going to get anywhere with him right then.

For the next 10 minutes, the four of them looked everywhere in the hospital. Cuddy's office, nothing. Every imaginable doctor's lounge, nothing. The clinic, obviously, nothing. The chapel … why'd they even look in there? Nothing.

Resigned to the fact that the man who believed himself to be god just simply wasn't in the building, the four of them returned to the oncologist's office.

"What is it now?" he asked looking up from his desk. Now he had no patient.

"House isn't in the hospital" said Kutner taking a step into the room to allow the other three in.

"And you're surprised, because?" queried Wilson leaning back on his chair.

Now it was Foreman's turn to reply "we have a patient with what seems to be lupus …" said Foreman "and House is completely MIA … we've paged him, called him …"

"Searched everywhere in the hospital" added Taub as Kutner nodded

"Well, have you ever considered the chance that he's just ignoring you?" asked Wilson with an amused look.

"You've known House longer than, I don't know, he's known himself" said Thirteen leaning on the wall "we have a guy with lupus, he wouldn't ignore that …"

Wilson had to admit she had a point. It was kind of odd for House to be ignoring the case. After all, if it had torn him away from Cuddy's side, there wasn't anything he, Wilson, knew of that could stop him now. So he began to grow worried.

"I'll try to find him" he sighed standing up

"And meanwhile what do we do?" asked Taub leaning next to Thirteen "the patient is getting worse and worse and House isn't here to treat him …"

"Are you doctors?" asked Wilson placing his lab coat on the hanger and retrieving his normal coat "go treat him yourselves"

And with that he was gone.

Back at Cuddy's place, the fight was still going on.

"House …" she said again still pushing him away with one hand and pulling the pillow with the other.

"Yes?" he asked looking at her innocently.

The moment his eyes met hers, he became extremely aware of her hand on his shoulder. It was like the area had a beating heart of its own, he could feel his blood rushing there, he could feel the thumping of his heart there, and he feared that maybe, she could too.

"Didn't your mom teach you to share?" she asked keeping her hands in the same position.

As he looked at her and contemplated the effect she was having on him, House lost his position and she managed to steal one of the pillows away from him.

"Ha!" she exclaimed triumphantly as she placed the pillow behind her head and leaned back onto it staring at the TV while House regained his senses and glared at her.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that she was using her effect on him to win … that's not how their games worked. Actually, their games worked in exactly the opposite way. They'd start the game, it'd go on with mutual efforts on both sides, he'd get to a point where he just desperately needed to win, he'd flash her a smile, or show some kind of emotion, or just simply stare her down with his blue eyes, and she'd cave. It never worked the other way round. He'd always been able to stand his ground. He'd always been able to keep his all-consuming attraction to her muffled in the back of his mind, at least in those moments.

Now there was no stopping it. One look at her, and he was lost. This was going to be much, much harder than he'd expected.

"So … is there a particular reason why we're watching this?" Cuddy asked as she stared at the TV screen where some sort of golf tournament was going on. Granted, golf might be a fairly entertaining sport, and a golf course certainly seemed to be the perfect setting for business deals to be made, but watching golf on TV was about as interesting as watching paint dry. And when every inch of your body was aching to jump the maddeningly handsome diagnostician beside you, you needed some serious entertainment to keep your self control.

Just realising what it was that they were watching, House changed the channel. Now they were watching a tennis tournament, in Spanish. Sure, tennis was more interesting, but only marginally. There are only so many times you can watch a tennis ball cross a net before you start associating the back and forth dance to your relationship with the previously mentioned doctor sitting next to you.

After a few more minutes of searching, Cuddy sighed and asked "wanna watch a movie?"

House looked at her, wondering whether or not to say yes. If he said no, they'd probably just sit there flicking through her channels in a fairly uncomfortable silence, but one where they were safe. If, on the other hand, he agreed to watch a movie, chances were they'd end up enveloped by some sort of hidden meaning again, and judging by what the last time had led to, he wasn't so sure about the wisdom of such a move.

But Cuddy had obviously made her own mind up, and was already half way out of bed. And just then, House felt something kick in that he had never felt before. Some would call it concern for a colleague; rather, he would call it that. But he was pretty sure that, had Wilson been there, he would have called it 'paternal instinct'.

"Wait!" he said stopping her from actually leaving the bed. She looked at him confused. What the hell was he doing?

House looked at her incredulously, how could she not realise that, being on bed rest actually meant staying in bed as much as possible? She hadn't been doing much of that, and he was starting to worry.

"What do you want to watch?" he asked standing up and reaching for his cane.

"Uh …" she thought about it "you pick" she really hadn't had anything specific in mind "just, uh, nothing too heavy … maybe a comedy?"

House nodded and walked out of the room.

Left behind, Cuddy leaned back on her pillow and looked at his crumpled one at her side. What on earth was goin on? What was this? Who was this guy? What had he done with Greg House? And where did she have to sign to keep him?

This guy was caring, loving, he was … well, everything she'd ever wanted. Plus he looked like House which helped. But she didn't know if she should trust it. She knew all too well what it felt like to give herself to him completely and have it all thrown back at her. She wasn't going to let him do that to her again. But maybe if she treaded with caution, maybe if she just tested the water. Maybe this'd turn out to be something.

And that's how they both ended up on the same page. House treading cautiously not to scare Cuddy, not to scare himself back into his trusted cave of emotionless and painful existence, and Cuddy treading even more cautiously, trying to see what this was, trying to see what exactly it meant, and trying to see whether what she'd been wanting for months, years even, was finally standing right in front of her, waiting for her to make the necessary moves.

TBC

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