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: Hai! So here's another chapter … I hope you like it … I was feeling a little blocked at the beginning … but I think it sorted itself out in the end. And if you think, by the end, that that's it, that I've taken the whole jump and ruined the whole thing, not to worry, my fics rarely get this happy this quickly :P … and if they do, well … lets just say it won't be how they stay.

Also, thank you all SOOOO much for your lovely reviews and all the help with the names! I have already sorted through them and come up with the four best (2 for girl and 2 for boy) … however, being the evil, EVIL, woman that I am … I won't tell you what they are … yet *insert evil laugh here* … :P

Oh, and I'm not sure if you remember my complaining about a Chem teacher a few weeks ago? Well, guess what, a couple of days ago, I find out she's a House fan … now I'm just feeling confused! *cowers into a corner and rocks back and forth*

Anyways, Enjoy!

"I love you, I really do" whispered Cuddy looking down at her stomach as she washed her hands "but you really need to get a better sense of timing!"

Lying back in Cuddy's bed, House pondered some more. What exactly did this bungee jumping metaphor entail? What was he going to allow himself to do, and what wasn't he? Because now, it wasn't even about what he, House, could handle, it was also about Cuddy. He figured that if she responded to his attentions, then that meant she had to like him, even if only a little bit. And if she did like him, then he couldn't step too far off that metaphorical tower. He needed to be able to retreat, for his kid. And for that, he had to make sure that Cuddy would be willing to let him go, and not just willing either, she'd have to be able to do so. He only knew how hard it'd be for him when the time came, he could only imagine what it must feel like to a hormonal new mom with a baby.

'Damn' he thought. When you put it like that, he really sounded like an ass, leaving Cuddy, alone, to raise their kid?

But House never cared what anyone else thought, or how anything sounded to anyone else. Because that little part of him that actually cared, was telling him that leaving was the best choice. And he was going to follow thorough with it.

In the mean time, he'd just go with it. Wherever she wanted to take it, he'd go. It kinda scared him, to put himself so completely and helplessly in her hands, but it was also really thrilling.

And with that thought in mind, he grabbed her pillow again and quickly arranged it behind his back. Placing his hands behind his head, House smiled again, something he'd been doing a lot of recently, and shifted slightly until he found the perfect position on the pillows.

"Sorry about that" said Cuddy stepping out of the bathroom wiping her hands on her trousers.

'Sorry about that'? she thought. Well, yea, what else did you say to a guy you were having an intimate moment with before you had to make a run for the bathroom?

House just turned his face to her slightly and grinned a little, obviously finding the words just as odd as she had.

"So …" she said awkwardly again sitting down next to him and looking at the TV where the forgotten movie was still playing.

Again, House just looked at her, this time turning his head a little more so that he could actually see her face. It took a few seconds of his stare for her to catch on. Not because it was a difficult thing to catch on to, but because her mind had been to clouded to realise that she was leaning against hard wood rather than soft pillow.

"House …" she spoke warningly "… come on …"

House just looked innocently at her "what?" and turned back to the TV screen

Sighing as she frowned and tried to figure how to get around this, preferably without making it awkward, again, Cuddy stared at the side of his head.

What was he playing at? Why was he doing this, again? Had he not been uncomfortable the first time round? And that brought her back to that eternal question, what was he doing there? Why was he acting like, well, like the college kid she'd known some 20 odd years ago?

"House …" she tried again, pulling a little on the pillow.

House limited his response to grinning even more and settling further into the pillows.

Nodding in a decided fashion, Cuddy figured if there was one way to beat Greg House at a game, it was to just not play it. So, standing up slowly, a hand on her stomach, she limped towards the living room.

It took a few seconds, maybe even a minute, but, as she'd predicted or, rather hoped, House had figured he'd lost and was now leaning on the arch way that led to her living room, his cane in one hand, his stare fixed on the back of her head as she opened her book and prepared to read it.

"That's not fair" he said still staring at her.

"What isn't?" she asked keeping her eyes on the book, two could play this game.

"Oh, come on!" he said limping further into the room "you never give up!"

"Maybe I'm just tired …" she sighed turning the page, fully conscious that she hadn't read a single word.

"Of …" House started but realised the answer before she even said it.

"Games" As she heard him limp around the couch and stop in front of where she was sitting, Cuddy had to struggle to hide the smile on her face, 'Well played'.

"Who's playing games?" he asked, his tone suddenly more serious. One step closer to the edge of that tower.

At that, Cuddy had to look up, closing her book a little in her hand and looking at him incredulously.

She never said it, but the look she gave him clearly read 'seriously? Are you seriously asking me that?'.

"What?" he asked innocently

"I …" she didn't even know what to say. She knew what she wanted to say, she wanted to yell at him for showing up there, though, granted, she had called him, and for playing all these games and confusing her this much. But she didn't know if that was what she should say anymore. Because, just then, the thought donned on her, maybe he wasn't playing games, maybe in his own, twisted way, this was House's way of being, well, nice. Maybe he was trying to let her know what Wilson had alluded to but she had refused to believe.

Completely lost for words, Cuddy just shook her head and sighed, looking away from him.

House, of course, being, well, House, took this for her being angry at him, in some way. And suddenly, fearing that edge that he had so cautiously stepping towards, he halted. Then he felt himself retreat altogether.

"Fine" he said in a low voice, almost a whisper.

All Cuddy saw was his feet disappearing from view. Then she heard the sound of his cane and sneakers on the wooden floor of the entrance. The entrance where her front door just so happened to be.

"Where are you going?" she asked surprisingly fast as she turned around in her seat and looked at him, standing with his back to her, his hand on the door knob.

"Home" he said matter of fact-ly. Anyone else would have mistaken his tone for rude, dry, even hurtful. But Cuddy recognised it as what it really was, a protection, a disguise he was putting on to hide some sort of emotion from her.

"Why?" she asked standing slowly, promising herself that's she'd start abiding by her bed rest as soon as she figured this out, and moving towards the arch way that linked the room House was in and the living room.

"You're tired" he said again in the same tone, still facing the door.

"Uh …" she started unsure of what to say. If she said nothing, he'd go, and that was the last thing she wanted. But he she said anything meaningful, he might run away, and she'd end up alone just the same. But hey, sometimes you just have to do it, right? "… you don't have to go"

"Why would I stay?" he asked. This was good, he thought, he was putting it in her hands. He had said that he'd go as far as she wanted to go, he'd follow her wherever she went, well this was the way to go.

"I …" she took a cautious step forwards, doing her best to keep as much pressure as possible off her foot.

Now she could see the side of House's face, he had turned his head a little and was now looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't want to be alone" 'Oh for God's sake, woman! Stop avoiding' she mentally yelled at herself.

"Call Wilson" he replied looking back at the door, his hand still resting on the knob with no intention of turning it.

"I …" just say it! "I don't want, uh, Wilson" she said uncertainly, her breath catching in her breath as she waited for a response.

As House felt a smile creep on his lips, he let his head hang a little and rested his forehead against the door. Not knowing that this was a sign of happiness rather than sadness, Cuddy took another step forwards, and put her hand on his back "House?"

Slowly, uncertainly, House turned to look at her. And she finally let that breath she'd been holding escape. The look in his eyes was remarkably clear. It was, she was sure, relief. Maybe there was even a touch of happiness hiding in there, but she wasn't going to push it.

"You know, he can actually cook" he said with a grin as he turned to face her completely, a grin on his face again.

"So can I" she replied with a shrug and one of her girlish smiles.

"True …" said House, stupidly going back into his evasive persona "… and I doubt he can hook up a TV in …"

"House …" she half whispered as she looked into his eyes.

And he nodded a little. She was right. He had to stop avoiding it. He had three months, he couldn't waste them dancing around the subject.

So with a smile and a couple of questioning, raised eyebrows, he lifted his hand to her chin and tilted her face towards his. She replied with a small smile as his hand moved to cup the side of her face and she lifted hers to cover it.

In a matter of seconds which, to them, seemed like eternity, they were moving closer. At first at a steady rate, then with a little hesitation as they took one more look into the other's eyes to make sure that that was really happening, that it was really what the other wanted.

What they saw in each other's eyes must have been a resounding yes, because not half a second later, their lips were brushing. Barely. Lightly. Torturously so. He was controlling her movements with his hand, touching her only lightly, never letting the contact last for more than a second.

It was torturous, she wanted to kiss him, properly, show him that she really wanted him there. But he obviously wanted to do things his way, and she wasn't about to argue.

After a few more seconds, she felt him pull back a little and felt him look at her until she opened her eyes. The look she found in his, took her breath away. The total and complete vulnerability reflected in the turquoise blue, it was killing her. She wanted nothing more than to show him that he needn't worry, that she wouldn't abuse his vulnerability, she wouldn't hurt him. But he was starting his path again, slowly bending forwards, and as his lips touched hers with a bit more strength, she lost all coherent thought.

They stood there for a while, slowly, gently kissing. Nothing more than what tow young teens would dare do. Both controlling the raging passion within, too scared of the effects it might have on the other. But sometimes, something's just gotta give. And in this case, that something was Lisa Cuddy.

As House finally moved the hand that had been caressing the side of her cheek down her arm and around her waist, Cuddy used the hand that had been resting on his chest to pull him, by the jacket, closer. And closer. And he responded. A little pressure on her back, then a little on her neck. And the two shy kids turned into two not-so-shy 17 year olds. One tender, gentle, short kiss, linked onto another, and long, passionate. The slow, gentle touches that one could barely register, became firm. Closed mouths opened. Hidden passions and imprisoned longings escaped between the two.

As the seconds and minutes passed, House realised that sometimes, making oneself a little vulnerable could be good, it could be really good. And Cuddy realised that she was safe, that she wasn't alone. And it didn't make her fell less independent, it made her fell safe, comforted. They were, in every way, there for each other, and they both feared the events to come that would, almost certainly, tare this all apart.

TBC

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CJS-DEPPendent