Part 3. Sorry for the delay, my computer was not cooperating. Reviews were awesome. As for the chapter; the medical stuff isn't accurate, but I don't think you're reading this for medical reasons so, enjoy.

Cuddy entered her office, glad to be away from the prying eyes of her staff. She had a ton of work to get done today, but as she sat behind her desk her thoughts once again turned to her infamous diagnostician. The rumor mill had gone into overdrive since Ted Elliot came into the clinic and turned the place upside-down. Everyone in the hospital was sure House's actions yesterday confirmed their suspicions of a House/Cuddy secret love affair. The problem was, the rumor wasn't as farfetched as Cuddy would like everyone to believe.

Her relationship with House was anything but typical. It was a complicated web of words and actions that often contradicted each other. It was a little too complicated for most of her employees, and especially her superiors, to understand. Since House was hired people were always debating about the reason she wouldn't fired him. Most of them thought it was sex, and the rest blamed her bad judgment on guilt. Both held some truth.

After the infarction, she remembered being afraid he'd do something rash. Suicide was what scared her the most. Hiring him then, when he desperately needed a distraction from himself, was her pathetic way of apologizing for her part in Stacey's betrayal.

So yes, she hired him out of guilt, but at some point over the years, their relationship built on a one night stand in Med School and an endless supply of her guilt, turned into a friendship built on loyalty, trust, and wit. Their bickering over the years was always a great source of entertainment for the nursing staff. House could be so impossible to deal with at times, but she couldn't deny that she secretly looked forward to their exchanges every week. Her job was never boring when he was around. It was at the point now, where Cuddy couldn't imagine her life without the pain in the ass. Or, maybe she just didn't want to.

-Knock-Knock-

"Dr. Cuddy, sorry to disturb you but they need you in the maternity ward." Cuddy nodded at the nurse, glad for the distraction. "I'll be right there." Shoving her thoughts of House aside, Cuddy went into full administrator mode. There was work to be done.

*

House felt as if someone was pounding his brain with a sledgehammer. Headaches were a common symptom of a concussion, and House, for the tenth time in the last half hour, cursed the schizophrenic giant who was the cause of his current pain. Cuddy had lowered his morphine dose, and he was itching to up it again. Too bad Wilson wouldn't leave him alone for two seconds.

"Headache?" Wilson asked noticing his friend's discomfort.

"For the last half hour." House opened his eyes trying to ignore the pounding in his ears.

"It could be an infection. How does your chest feel?"

"It's not my chest Wilson, I'm fine." House reasoned. Wilson gave him an apprehensive look.

"Have you even attempted any of the breathing exercises?"

"I did, and my ribs felt like they were being ripped out of my chest." House winced recalling his unpleasant time with the physical therapist.

"House, the more you refuse to help yourself, the longer you'll be stuck here." Wilson pleaded with his friend. He knows House despises being told what to do. Wilson remembered when House had the infarction, every physical therapist told him to use his cane with his left hand. House being the stubborn ass that he is, took great pleasure in annoying them by using his right. This was going to be a long hospital stay if House didn't start cooperating.

"Did Cuddy mention when I can get out of here?"

"Face it House, your ribs are going to take at least six weeks to fully heal, and no one is buying the 'I'm fine' routine You're in pain, and the more you ignore it, and keep it from us, the worse it's going to get." House closed his eyes, trying to stop the room from spinning. It didn't work.

"The room is spinning." House whispered. Wilson checked his vitals, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

"Do you feel nauseous at all?"

House began to shake his head, but the movement caused a sharp pain. He scowled. "No, no nausea, just a migraine."

"It's probably the concussion; not much we could do but wait it out." Wilson patted his arm sympathetically. "I'll ask Cuddy to up your morphine again." Wilson left the room, making his way to Cuddy's office.

'Gotta love Wilson.'

*

She was avoiding him. She had to be. He hadn't seen her since she kissed him two days ago, and he was beginning to feel frustrated by her constant absence. House would never admit it, but he actually missed Cuddy. Not wanting to analyze his feelings any further, he resorted to bothering Wilson.

"Have you seen Cuddy lately?" Wilson looked up from the newspaper he was reading.

"No, why?"

"No reason."

Wilson went back to his newspaper, not wanting to question House's question about Cuddy. He knew House would bite his head off if he started his Cuddy interrogation again.

"Have you spoken to her at all?" House started again, conducting his own interrogation.

"If you want to talk to her, I'll go get her for you?" Wilson injected, hoping House wouldn't turn the offer down.

"Who said anything about talk? This is the longest I've ever gone without ogling the twins. I miss them."

Anyone else would see it as a sexist, offensive, and vile remark, but Wilson knew, in House's mind, that was his way of saying he missed Cuddy. It was sweet, really.

"Maybe if you stopped acting like such a child, she'd visit you more often." Truth was, Wilson had spoken to Cuddy earlier about House. She didn't want to visit him, claiming it would only fuel the rumors going around that they were "romantically involved". It was a typical excuse; she missed House just as much as he missed her. They were both just too stubborn to admit it. It was driving Wilson crazy.

House dropped the conversation, not liking where it was heading. Instead he opted for a General Hospital rerun, much to Wilson's dismay. ("Telenovela starts in five minutes")

When the show had ended, Wilson noticed House's dinner tray was untouched. "How long has it been since you've eaten anything?" House shrugged watching the credits roll on the TV. "House?"

House turned off the television, and looked up at Wilson. "I'm not hungry." He said, clearly not wanting to discuss it further. "I'm tired, I just want to sleep."

"At least drink something. Cuddy will have my ass if you get dehydrated." Wilson said holding out a cup for House to take.

"Sounds fun." House drank it without complaint, and then closed his eyes.

"Goodnight House."

"Goodnight Wilson."

*

Cuddy looked at her watch; 1:30am. She sighed, making her way through the nearly empty halls of the hospital. It had been another long day, and she was ready to drop. Cuddy spent the better part of her day debating on whether she should visit House or not. She spent the rest trying to figure out where she and House stood in regards to each other. Did she want to take things further with him? Did he want to take things further with her? Could they ever be more then…whatever they were now? Ever since that kiss three weeks ago, tension has been high between them, but House made things impossible. He is completely unstable; one day he is malicious and rude and meeting hookers in his office, and the next he is risking his life to save hers. Talk about mixed signals. He was going to drive her insane one day.

Cuddy wanted to believe they could have a relationship that didn't end in heartbreak, but she just couldn't see it. Call her a pessimist, but there are so many things going against their relationship. Maybe it just isn't meant to be. 'She was the employer, House was the employee, and that was all they ever could and should be.' Her rational self reasoned.

She stopped outside of room 112. Like the night before, Cuddy decided to check up on him before going home. She was stillhis doctor after all. She entered the room careful not to disturb him. He was lying on his back, with the blankets pulled up to his chin. She moved to sit next to him and noticed a pained expression on his face. He looked anything but peaceful as he slept, shuddering slightly.

"House?" Cuddy tried to wake him. She reached out a hand to touch his forehead, and hastily withdrew. She ran to the door.

"I need some ice packs in here! He's burning up." Cuddy called down the hall to the nurses. She ran back to the bed, taking the blanket off of his shivering body.

"House? House, can you hear me?" She ran a hand through his hair, trying to wake him now before the ice packs were used. It would be less of a shock to his system. Any sudden jarring could further damage his ribcage.

He mumbled something she couldn't understand, and leaned into her touch. His eyes opened, but it was as if he was looking right through her. He mumbled again.

"House, you have a 104 fever. We need to use ice packs to get your temperature down." There was no indication that he understood what she was saying. He just looked at her with bleary eyes.

"Mom?" House asked in a small voice. Cuddy's heart broke for him. "No House, it's me. Do you know where you are?" He didn't have time to respond as the nurses came through the door with the ice packs ready. "What do you got?" A nurse asked Cuddy.

"He has a temperature of 104, and he's delirious." Cuddy took one of the ice packs and put it behind his neck. The nurses put one under each arm. House continued his incoherent mumbling, Cuddy catching only a few words.

"No….please…..no more ice."

Cuddy continued to try and wake him from his troubling hallucination, while the nurses monitored his vitals.

"It's almost over House, just a few more minutes." Cuddy tried to console him.

A few tears escaped from his eyes, and he shivered again. "Mom…help me." House was becoming more hysterical. "Make him stop! Stop!" Cuddy had to fight to keep her own emotions in check as she heard him continue to plead for his mother's help.

Within the next three minutes, House's hysterics had calmed down, and she could feel the sweat on his forehead. The fever was breaking.

"His temperature is down to 101, Dr. Cuddy." One of the nurses informed her.

"Get him on 400mg of Ibuprofen, and get him on antibiotics when you confirm a lung infection." Cuddy ordered as she removed the ice packs from his skin. The nurses quickly left the room, doing what she asked.

Cuddy remained at House's side, brushing his damp hair from his forehead. He began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, puffy and red from crying.

"Cuddy?" He asked, his voice was strained from his dry throat.

"I'm here House. You have a fever; we had to use ice packs to get it down." She felt his body tense at the mention of ice packs, perhaps recalling the hallucination he just experienced. He was clearly shaken up by it, and she wished there was someway she could ease his pain. She took his hand in hers, not caring who saw it, and stayed with him all night.

Watching him drift into a more peaceful sleep, Cuddy could no longer deny that over the many years they've know each other, Greg House had stolen her heart.

She loved the miserable bastard, pain in the ass or not.

TBC…