Almost two years ago, I wrote Forgiveness, my one fic (out of 133, mind you!) where House and Cuddy don't end up together. I happen to think it was a poignant story and a Huddy love story to boot, but a certain someone (whose name rhymes with Rocktober) felt otherwise. She told me it was my one fic she could never re-read. Anyway, it just so happens that Monday is her birthday (and mine!) so I promised her I'd write Chapter 3 of Forgiveness and give Huddy their happy ending and make the world safe for rainbow-puking unicorns again.
You don't have to have read the first two chapters of Forgiveness to follow along here, but it certainly helps.
And happy birthday Z. You are literally the only person on the planet I would do this for. Love, atd
When you have a 7-year-old daughter, you end up in unexpected places. For example, today Cuddy found herself at the New Jersey Civic Center, home of the Tri-State Science Fair.
Rachel had been picked out of all the children in her school to attend. It was House, Cuddy had to admit, who had first gotten Rachel into science. They were always making potions in her room, usually involving carbonated beverages and Mentos (and usually necessitating a vigorous shampooing of the rug afterward). She loved the fact that her little girl was into science. It made her proud. For a brief, a heady moment, Cuddy thought that if Rachel won the Nobel Prize for Science, she would have to thank House in her acceptance speech.
For now, Rachel had made an experiment using paper clips and magnets. There were no prizes for her age level: everyone who participated got a blue ribbon, which Rachel was wielding proudly, like she had just won Best in Show at the County Fair.
And since the junior portion of the fair was over, Cuddy and Rachel decided to take a walk around the center, to check out the projects of the older kids. It was the usual litany of clay volcanoes with lava and experiments involving calcified butterflies, until she came across what appeared to be a fully operational robot.
"Wow," she said to Rachel. "Look at this thing."
"Cool," Rachel said, bending to see it closer.
A woman standing one booth over noticed them and chuckled.
"That's Isaac Elliot's," she said. "He's some sort of boy genius. He wins every year." There was the slightest trace of bitterness in her voice. Her pimply son had apparently been responsible for one of the lame volcanoes.
Then she lowered her voice. "I'm actually surprised he came this year."
"Surprised?" Cuddy said. "Why?"
"His mother died three months ago."
Cuddy brought her hand to her mouth.
"Oh, how horrible," she said.
"Yeah," the woman said. "Some sort of cancer, I think. It's so sad. He's here with his stepfather, I guess. I feel for them both. They look so lost."
"I can imagine," Cuddy said, shaking her head sympathetically.
"That's them over there," the lady said, pointing to a table that had been set up with cookies and plastic cups of fruit juice.
Cuddy looked over—and did a doubletake.
There was a knobby-kneed boy with long, light brown bangs that fell into his eyes and wire-rimmed glasses—a mousy-haired Harry Potter. And next to him was a tall lanky man in jeans and an unironed shirt, with several day's growth of beard and a cane. They were both munching on cookies and staring into space.
"Oh my God," Cuddy said. She involuntarily shuddered.
The woman gave her a curious look.
"You know that guy?" she said.
"He's my. . .he's an ex boyfriend of mine," said Cuddy, still staring. "I had no idea he was married."
It suddenly came to her: Ally Elliot. The pretty but plain young nurse who had visited her in Westchester. Cuddy remembered her well—soft-spoken, sweet, but with a streak of defiance, too. She had driven over an hour to meet an intimidating stranger—all to fight for her man. Cuddy recalled her unstylish clothing, her child-like way of picking at her food. But something about Ally Elliot had touched Cuddy—and obviously House, too.
In that moment, Cuddy felt two equally horrible and conflicting pangs.
The first pang was genuine sadness that this poor young woman was dead. The second pang she wasn't completely proud of: She was jealous that House had gotten married. (This was the height of hypocrisy, of course: Cuddy herself had gotten married three years ago. But the heart is rarely reasonable in matters of jealousy.)
She took a deep breath and pointed House out to Rachel.
"Look who's there!" she said, trying to keep her voice cheerful.
Rachel looked over. Her eyes widened.
"Do you remember him?" Cuddy asked.
Rachel nodded.
"Do you want to go say hi?" Cuddy said.
She nodded again.
Cuddy took her daughter's hand and they walked across the center.
As they got closer, she saw House and Isaac more closely. Isaac was wearing a baseball shirt that had a stain on it. His shoes looked worn, possibly too small for his feet. His glasses were smudged. House looked the same as usual, which didn't mean much. He was never particularly good at taking care of himself. His shirt, however, was noticeably missing a button.
"House," she said.
He looked up, practically dropped the cup of juice he was holding.
He gaped at her.
"Cuddy," he managed to choke out.
"Hi House!" Rachel said brightly.
House looked down at her, blinked a few times, like he was waking from a dream.
"Hiya kid," he said. "Look at you. You're all grown up."
"No, I'm still just a little girl!" Rachel countered.
House gave a small smile.
"You'll make an excellent scientist," he said.
Then he realized that Isaac was standing there, munching on a cookie, regarding them curiously.
"Isaac, this is Dr. Cuddy and her daughter Rachel. They're old . . .friends of mine."
Isaac didn't say anything. Just kept on eating his cookie—crumbs were getting on the floor—and staring at them.
Any other father figure—if that's what House really was—would've scolded him, told him to mind his manners and say hi. But House didn't do that. Instead he said to Cuddy: "What are you guys even doing here?"
"Rachel won the first grade science prize. And as a reward, I get to schlep her here for the day."
"I worked with magnets!" Rachel said. "One of my magnets weighs 10 pounds!"
"Cool," House said.
Just then, a teenager with a camera around his neck approached them.
"We're about to take a group photo of all the participants," he said.
"Oh," Cuddy said. "Should we follow you?"
"Just the kids," the boy said, in a "don't be an overbearing mother" sort of voice .
"I'll look after her," Isaac said, taking Rachel's hand. And they followed the photographer toward the other side of the center.
"He's a sweet kid," Cuddy said, when they were out of earshot.
"Yeah," House said, scratching his chin.
"And I saw his robot. Incredible."
"It was supposed to talk, but things, uh, came up."
"House, I heard about Ally. I'm so sorry."
House fiddled with his cane.
"Thanks," he said softly.
"What happened?"
"Stage four breast cancer. It was a brief and painful death."
"Oh God," Cuddy said. "I don't know what to say. It's just so unspeakably horrible." Then she added cautiously: "And you two were. . . married?"
House recoiled a bit.
"What? No! We were dating. We weren't even technically living together."
Cuddy felt ridiculous for being a relieved.
"Then why do you have the boy?" she said.
House shrugged.
"I dunno. His grandparents in Pittsburgh were supposed to take him, but he ran away. Took the bus back to my place. So I guess he's . . . mine now."
"And you're still in your old apartment?"
"Yeah. It gets a little crowded sometimes. But we're doing okay."
"Wow, House. That's a lot to handle."
"I don't really have much choice," House said.
"I guess not."
"How bout you? How's Leonard?"
Cuddy felt her face grow hot.
"We're. . he's . . . we're separated, actually."
"Oh," House said. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Cuddy couldn't help but giving a tiny smile.
"Liar!" she teased.
He smiled back, sheepishly, in a "busted" kind of way.
"I figured 'I'm elated to hear that' was an inappropriate response," he admitted.
Cuddy laughed.
They exchanged a look—after all these years, they still "got" each other.
"Isaac and I were going to pick up a pepperoni pizza on the way home. . ." House said, trying to keep his voice casual. "Maybe you guys want to join us for dinner? Unless you need to get back to Westchester or something."
She had to admit that the thought of House buying pepperoni pizza, taking care of this 12 year old boy—this messy, misfit, brilliant 12-year-old boy—broke her heart a little bit.
"We're in no rush," Cuddy admitted. "Pizza actually sounds pretty good."
######
It had been a year since House and Cuddy had stayed up all night in a hotel room in Cleveland, talking, reminiscing, and letting each other go.
From there, their lives had taken two radically different paths.
For House, that night was a release of sorts—it gave him the ability to finally move on to his life with Ally. He was never going to truly love Ally. He was fond of her, there was even some genuine affection there. But if Cuddy believed he was deserving of forgiveness, of some small measure of happiness, why not take what he could get?
For Cuddy, it represented the exact opposite: The end of her marriage to Leonard. She had told Leonard about the night in Cleveland, never expecting him to react the way he did—with insane, unprecedented jealousy.
"This guy was the love of your life, wasn't he?" Leonard had accused.
"Yes, I loved him a lot," Cuddy admitted. "But he hurt me a lot, too."
"I know," Leonard said. "You told me. But he was the one, right? I'm never going to be that guy for you."
"Leonard, you're my husband."
"That's just paperwork," he had said.
####
House's apartment had been invaded by the detritus of a 12-year-old boy: Dirty socks, a skateboard, a Playstation console, the parts of Isaac's latest science experiment scattered across the living room floor.
There had been a time when House's apartment—with its leather couches and stacks of vintage jazz records—had represented the height of masculine sophistication to her. Now it looked like the home of a harried single dad.
"Be it ever so humble," House said.
House set the table and they ate their pizza, neither Isaac nor House ate the crusts.
"People who say the crust is the best part are lying," House said, eyeing Isaac conspiratorially. "Why not just eat bread then?"
Looking down at his plate, Isaac gave a small smile of agreement.
Cuddy tried to draw some conversation out of the boy, but he was shy, reticent. She had to cut him a break, though: his world had just been turned upside down.
After dinner, Isaac said to Rachel, "You wanna come see this remote control Triceratops I'm working on?"
"Yeah!" Rachel said, turning to Cuddy hopefully.
"Knock yourself out," Cuddy said.
And Rachel followed Isaac into his "room" (actually House's small office space, that had now been converted into a bedroom.)
"He's good with her," Cuddy said.
"Yeah," House said. "He's a good kid." Then, in a slightly melancholy voice he said, "I can't believe how big Rachel's gotten. She's like this little person now. I feel like I could ask her to do my taxes."
"I know," Cuddy said. "The other day she told me that I was being 'narrow-minded,' because I wouldn't put marshmallow fluff on her peanut butter."
"Ha. You were being narrow-minded. That shit is delicious."
And they smiled at each other.
"It's good that she's pretty," House mused, as he refilled Cuddy's wine glass. "It would suck to not be pretty when your mom is such a beauty."
Cuddy blushed a bit.
"People are always saying how much she looks like me," she laughed. "I don't have the heart to tell them she's adopted."
"You might want to keep your voice down," House said. "The walls aren't as solid as they look."
"She knows," Cuddy said. "I told her as soon as she was old enough to understand it. I never wanted it to be this secret—this thing that hovered over us, you know? I just told her her real mother had died and that I had adopted her and that I couldn't imagine loving anyone more than I love her, and she seemed satisfied with that."
"Smart move."
"Thank you," Cuddy said. Then, unable to resist, she wrinkled her nose: "So the walls aren't soundproof, huh? How unfortunate."
"Apparently we gave my neighbors quite the thrill a few years back," House said, with a slightly proud smile.
They looked at each other—that little flash of intimacy and familiarity again—and then both looked down.
"So what happened with Leonard?" House said, taking a swig of his wine.
"We, uh, drifted apart," Cuddy said.
"'None of your business House' would've been equally acceptable," House said.
"If you must know, he couldn't get over his jealousy."
"Jealousy over what?"
She sighed a bit.
"Actually, you."
"Me? The guy who rammed his car into your dining room and you didn't talk to for three years?"
"He figured out that you were the love of my life," Cuddy said.
He blinked at her.
"Cuddy. . ." he said. "I feel the. . ."
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," she said, cutting him off.
He swallowed.
"Okay. Then we won't talk about it," he said. He opened his mouth, as if about to say something else, then changed his mind. "More wine?"
Just at that moment, Isaac and Rachel came barreling out of his room together.
"How was the stegosaurus?" Cuddy asked.
"Triceratops, mom," Rachel said, rolling her eyes a bit.
"Oh, my bad. How was it?"
"Cool," Rachel said. Then, in that slightly cutesy voice she put on when she really wanted something: "Mom, can Isaac and House come with us to the zoo this weekend?"
"I'm . . . I'm not sure. . ."
"Pleeeeease!"
Cuddy looked at House.
"You want to come with us?" she asked skeptically.
"Let me check with the boss," House said. "What do you say, Isaac?"
Isaac shrugged wordlessly.
"He's elated," House said. "What time should we pick you up?"
#####
They walked around the zoo together—Rachel and House both got cotton candy (hers pink; his blue); Isaac moped with his head down and his hands shoved deeply in his pockets.
"Do you mind if I go check out the rain forest?" Isaac said to House, finally.
"Sure," House said.
Cuddy watched him sprint away.
"You sure he'll be okay on his own?" she said. "How is he even going to find us later?"
The look on House's face suggested it hadn't even occurred to him that Isaac might not be able to make his way back.
"He's resourceful," he said. "Worst case scenario, we can embarrass the shit out of him with one of those, 'We have a little lost boy' announcements."
They continued to stroll through the zoo. House kept making Rachel laugh by doing his impression of the animals. "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful," he said, when they passed the warthogs. "I've had a crick in my neck for 15 years," he said at the giraffe cages. He offered Cuddy some of his cotton candy and grinned happily when she took a bite. "I get a strange thrill out of watching you eat junk food," he admitted.
"You just like being a bad influence on me," she said.
"True," he said.
Eventually, Isaac did find his way back to them ("I figured you'd end up at the petting zoo," he explained with a shrug, as House smiled knowingly.) His brief adventure on his own had done him some good and he was cheerier. Besides, he couldn't resist showing off his knowledge of zoology to Rachel, who was dutifully impressed.
"Did you know that a bat could eat up to 1,000 insects per hour?" he said.
"Ewww! Gross!" Rachel said, laughing. She liked gross things.
"That's nothing. Did you know that the male koala has two penises and the female koala has two vaginas?"
"Okay, that's enough, Steve Irwin," House said, eyeing Cuddy to see if she was upset.
"I think it's cool!" Rachel said.
"Imagine the possibilities," Cuddy said dryly. And House gazed at her adoringly.
In the car ride home, Rachel tried to repeat House's jokes.
"Guess what a giraffe says?" she asked Isaac.
"What?" he said.
"I'm a cricket!"
"Not quite, Rach," House said. "But excellent attempt."
"That makes no sense," Isaac said.
Eventually, both children fell asleep in the backseat and House drove silently and the radio was playing a Willie Nelson tune and to the outside world, they looked every inch the weary family driving home from an outing at the zoo.
######
She told herself that she was spending time with him because he was hopeless, a man who didn't have the foggiest idea how to raise a 12-year-old boy. She brushed off the fact that she was as attracted to him as ever—maybe more so. So what if she lay in bed fantasizing about Gregory House, not her soon-to-be ex-husband? So what if she imagined his hands all over her, his body pressed against hers? That was just a fantasy. In real life, they were just friends—former lovers, now just a couple of single parents, leaning on each other for support.
At least that's what she told herself.
######
They went bowling together. They went to a farmer's market. They went to the New Jersey Planetarium.
One night, Cuddy showed up with Rachel and three bags of groceries. (She had said she was cooking dinner. She had neglected to mention that she was also bringing some essentials—eggs, orange juice, bananas, Corn Flakes, yogurt, and granola bars—for House's woefully understocked kitchen.)
"You didn't have to do that," he said, grabbing one of the bags.
"Actually, I kinda did," she said.
They put away the groceries together and she made something relatively simple—turkey tettrazini—that both House and Rachel liked. ("Does Isaac like turkey tettrazini?" Cuddy had asked House. "Isaac likes everything," he replied.)
But instead of eating, Isaac just sat there, twirling the spaghetti around on his fork.
"You don't like it?" Cuddy said, noticing him.
He shrugged.
"I'm not hungry," he said.
"You're always hungry," House countered.
"Not tonight," he said.
"Eat it," House ordered.
Cuddy peered at him.
"If you like, I could make you something else?" she said, gamely.
"I'm not hungry, alright? Back off!" Isaac said, raising his voice.
"Hey, Isaac," House said sternly. "Apologize."
"She's not my mother, alright?" Isaac said angrily.
"No one said she is, pal," House said.
Isaac stood up from the table so abruptly, his Coke spilled. "She can't fucking make me eat!" he screamed.
And he stormed off to his bedroom.
House's mouth dropped open. He stared at the chair that Isaac had just occupied and then limped quickly into the kitchen to get a sponge and paper towels to clean up the mess.
"I'm …sorry," he kept saying, wiping up the spill. "I have no idea why he just did that. He doesn't talk that way."
"It's okay, House," Cuddy said. Then she turned to Rachel: "Isaac's mom died a few months ago. He's still very upset. That's why he used that bad word."
"Because sometimes people act mad when they're really sad?" Rachel said.
"Exactly," Cuddy said.
"I'll go get him," House said. "I'll make him apologize to you."
"No," Cuddy said. "It's okay, just leave him be. Let's have dessert."
Afterwards, House walked them to their car.
"Great evening, huh?" he said sarcastically. "We're like a Norman Rockwell painting come to life."
"House, it was fine. Things happen," she said.
"So Isaac didn't scare you off?" he said, hopefully. "You'll come back?'
"Of course we will."
Just then, Rachel gave a big, open-mouthed yawn.
"Okay, I gotta take this little one home," Cuddy said. "It's getting late."
She gave House a hug.
"Hang in there," she said. He held onto her for a long time—too long—before finally letting go.
"Hanging in there is what I do," he said.
As she pulled away from the curb, she could see him standing there, his shoulders slumped, watching her drive away.
######
House knocked on Isaac's door. He didn't answer. House opened the door anyway.
Isaac was on the bed, wearing a hoodie, listening to music through his headphones. The room was dark, except for a dim light emanating off his iPhone.
"Hey," House said.
Isaac yanked off his headphones.
"Am I in trouble?" he said.
"No," House said.
"Good." He put the headphones back on again, but House yanked them back off.
"But we still need to talk. . ." he said.
"Great," Isaac muttered.
"What was that all about?"
"I wasn't hungry," Isaac said.
"Try harder."
Isaac folded his arms.
"What's the deal with Dr. Cuddy? Is she your new girlfriend or something?"
"You've got your chronology wrong, pal," House said. "Old girlfriend. Now we're just . . . friends."
"But you're still in love with her," Isaac said, pointedly.
"My feelings for Dr. Cuddy have nothing to do with this conversation," House said.
"You love her more than you loved mom," Isaac said. His lower lip was beginning to tremble.
"I cared about your mom a lot, Isaac," House said.
"But you never loved her. Not the way you love Dr. Cuddy."
"Your mom . . ."—House smiled in a wistful sort of way—". . . your mom was amazing. She knew all about Dr. Cuddy. She didn't care. She wanted to be with me—and she wouldn't take no for an answer."
"So mom didn't care that you loved another woman more than you loved her?"
"Your mom was smart enough to know that love takes all different forms. We had an understanding, Isaac."
"Well, your understanding sucks," Isaac said.
"I'm sorry you feel that way. But you're still not allowed to be a little shithead to my friends."
Isaac looked down at the blanket.
"I'm sorry," he muttered.
"Isaac, I know this is hard for you. Believe me, it's hard for me, too. I have no damn clue what I'm doing here."
"You're doing okay," Isaac said, still looking down. A fat tear dripped down his cheek.
House put a hand on Isaac's bony little shoulder and squeezed it.
"Thanks," he said. "You're doing okay, too."
Then House cocked his head a bit. "You wanna eat? And don't even tell me you're not hungry right now, because I spent enough time on hunger strikes in my room to know that they suck."
"I am kinda hungry," Isaac admitted.
"PBJ? Crusts cut off?"
"Or maybe more of that turkey stuff?" Isaac said. "It was actually kinda good."
#####
A week later, Cuddy came over again, this time without Rachel, who was spending the night at Aunt Julia's.
Isaac answered the door.
"Hey," he said shyly, shuffling his feet.
"Hey," Cuddy said. Then she handed him a wrapped gift. "I hope you don't mind, I got you this."
He stared at the gift, in shock.
"What it is?"
"It's customary to open the gift to find out," Cuddy chuckled.
House, who was about to come out of the kitchen (his turkey chili was simmering), instead hung back and watched the scene play out.
Isaac opened the gift, reluctantly, like it was possibly a trap.
His face lit up when he saw what it was. "Laser theater! It turns your whole room into an epic laser show! I've been wanting this for months. How did you know?"
"I went onto your Amazon wish list," Cuddy said, making an exaggerated guilty face. "Is that too stalkerish?"
"Naw, my mom used to do that all the time," he said.
"I met her once you know," Cuddy said. "I liked her a lot."
"Yeah?" he said.
"Yeah. And she was pretty too. You look like her. Well, not pretty. A boy version."
"Thanks," Isaac said, pleased.
"Chili's on in 10 minutes," House said, emerging from the kitchen.
"Hi," Cuddy said.
"Hi back," House said—and he gave her a stealth smile of approval.
"Can I eat in my room?" Isaac said. "I want to set this thing up!"
Cuddy looked over at House. He nodded.
"Only if you promise us a light show after dinner," she said.
####
Several hours later, House walked Cuddy to her car. The street was dark and empty.
"You were amazing in there," he said to her.
She smiled.
"I like him," she said. "Apparently, I have a thing for moody geniuses."
Another look coursed between them. Cuddy looked down.
"I should . . . go," she said hastily.
"Okay," he said glumly.
"I'll see you soon?" she said.
She gave him a hug, as had become their custom, but this time, he didn't let go. He nuzzled her neck for a few seconds, then kissed it, his mouth slightly open, his tongue warm against her skin.
She felt that little tingle she always felt when things got physical between them. (It was like her body was specifically calibrated to vibrate when he touched her.)
She inhaled the tiniest bit, which he took as his cue to find her jaw, her cheek, her mouth—and now he was really kissing her, pushing her up against the car, his tongue deep in her mouth, his hands insistently wandering her clothed form.
"Cuddy. . ." he moaned.
"House, we can't," she said, unconvincingly.
"Why not?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Because Isaac is just inside," Cuddy said.
"He can't see us," House said. "No one can see us."
With one hand behind her back, he had managed to deftly open the back seat of the car. Now his hands were slowly riding up her legs, hiking up her skirt, sliding between her thighs. Her knees buckled a bit. The desire was almost overwhelming. All she would have to do is climb in the backseat with him, block out the world, finally have him inside her. Then she caught herself.
"House, no!" she said, jumping away from the door.
"Come on, Cuddy" he said, out of breath. "Don't do this."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I do want you, House. More than you know. And that's exactly why we can't be together."
"What?"
His hands dropped lamely to his side. He looked at her, stunned.
"Your girlfriend died five months ago. I haven't even signed the divorce papers on my marriage. We're both raising children. There's so much complicated history between us. We can't just jump back into a relationship. It's insane."
"Says who?"
"Says any reasonable human being," Cuddy said.
"Reason is overrated," House said, leaning down to kiss her again.
She put her hand on his chest to stop him.
"I'm serious. Look, I've got to stop coming around like this. It's confusing for the children. It's confusing for me. And it's obviously confusing for you."
"I'm not confused," House said, stubbornly.
"House, I'm sorry," she said. "Truly."
And got in her car and drove away.
#######
Cuddy kept her word and stayed away. It was hard, nearly impossible. Several times she picked up the phone to call him, just to check on him, see how he was holding up, but she didn't even do that. She convinced herself a clean break was best for all parties involved.
About a month after her imposed embargo, her assistant Charles buzzed her.
"I have someone on the phone for you," he said, adding quizzically: "He sounds like a kid."
Cuddy sat up at her desk.
"Put him through," she said. Then: "Isaac?"
"Dr. Cuddy? It's Isaac."
"I know, sweetie. Are you okay? Is it House? Is anything wrong?"
Isaac cleared his throat.
"I'm, uh, calling to apologize," he said. "I know you haven't been coming around lately. And I know it's all my fault. I can be a real shithead sometimes . . .and I'm sorry."
"Did House put you up to this call?" she asked skeptically.
"No. He has no idea I'm calling," Isaac said.
Cuddy sighed.
"Isaac, the fact that I don't come around anymore has nothing to do with you. I think you're great."
"Then . . . what is it?"
"It's grownup stuff. I can't really explain."
"Oh," Isaac said. "Because Greg misses you. He misses you a lot. He was so much happier when you and Rachel were coming around. And . . .I was, too."
Cuddy put her head in her hands. She felt like she was going to cry.
"I miss you guys, too."
She heard him gulp over the phone.
"I just wanted to make sure it wasn't something I did. Because if this was somehow my fault, I'd feel like total dogshit."
"It's not you, Isaac. It's me."
####
That night, there was a knock at House's door.
He turned to Isaac.
"What did you do?"
"I ordered pizza," Isaac said.
"What did I tell you about ordering pizza without asking first?" House said, scoldingly.
Isaac shrugged.
"Too late now. It's here."
"I'll get my wallet," House said. "But this is totally coming out of your allowance."
"I don't get an allowance."
"And now you never will."
He limped up to the door, swung it open.
And there, standing in the doorway, was Lisa Cuddy, wielding a large pizza box. Rachel was standing next to her, looking like she was about to burst.
"Did someone order a large pepperoni pizza?" Cuddy said. And Rachel giggled.
"I did!" Isaac said cheerfully.
"I got salad, too," Cuddy said. "No pizza unless you eat some salad first."
"Salad sucks," Isaac said.
"Boo on salad!" Rachel agreed.
"You'll learn to love it," Cuddy said.
Then she turned to House, who was frozen in place, his mouth hanging open. She looped one of her fingers with his and led him toward the dining room.
"Come on, House. Don't just stand there. Help me set the table."
THE END