**Hello, readers!! I apologize profusely for my very tardy update... I had hoped to have this section of the story much further along by now, but alas, a lot of very serious RL things got in the way, both work-related and personal. But now that things are getting a little more back to "normal" (haha...) I've had some time to write. This commences the flashback section of the story where, as promised, you will find out the origins of the Huddy baby. I would estimate the flashback will take up the next 2 or 3 chapters, depending on how much I have to split up my updates. I am bound and determined to stay at least a chapter ahead from here on out, and so far I'm adhering to that. So, thanks for reading, enjoy, and review, s'il vous plait!! You would seriously make my week right now if you do :-)

Cuddy took a minute to compose herself in the comfort of her cushy chair. She really did want to finish up her paper work before she went to talk to House, but her conversation with Wilson had sent her mind reeling in several different directions. The one it was sticking to most prevalently at the moment, though, was the very night that their baby had been conceived. That night had simultaneously been both the best and worst of Cuddy's life, and she couldn't help but allow herself to mentally wander back to it as she pondered her impending conversation with the father of her child.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Chapter 18

** Flashback to Tuesday, November 25th, 2008.**

Frantically navigating her way through the last slamming traffic that always seemed to build up on the main roads of Princeton toward the very end of the morning rush hour, Cuddy automatically drove herself to Princeton-Plainsboro as one of the receptionists from the front desk of the hospital relayed to her by cell phone the terrifying invasion of the clinic mere minutes beforehand by an armed patient.

As the receptionist told Cuddy the few details she knew at that moment, Cuddy was mentally kicking herself for not arriving on hospital grounds at her usual time of 8:00am that morning. While she did have a legitimate reason- a breakfast meeting across town with the senior partner of one of Princeton's most prestigious law firms who was considering donating an exceptional sum to the hospital- a couple million dollars seemed suddenly insignificant when she considered that an unknown number of staff and patients alike were currently in mortal danger.

Pulling into her parking space after the longest ten minutes she'd even spent in her car, Cuddy ran as fast as she could in her spiked high heels to the front entrance of the hospital. No matter how emphatic the description given her by the receptionist had been, nothing could have prepared Cuddy for the widespread mayhem that she encountered just as she came through the doors, still clutching her cell phone in her hand. Nurses pushed incapacitated patients towards her on gurneys and in wheelchairs. Able-bodied patients walked or ran past Cuddy as they tried to escape the confusion. Some doctors assisted patients, as well, but others stood around talking in small, hushed groups rather than pitching in.

Several of the hospital's security guards had also found their way to the lobby and were doing their best to direct the congested pedestrian traffic, and quite a few of them stood watch immediately by the outer doors of the clinic. Amongst all of the people, Cuddy noticed that Judy, the reliable receptionist who had called her, was still manning her post and talking to patients that needed assistance to the best of her ability at the moment.

"Judy!" Cuddy yelled over the din as she made her way over to the middle-aged woman with glasses who had been the hospital's head of reception for the last seven years . "Any new information since I hung up with you?"

"Dr. Foreman was one of the doctors that managed to get out of the clinic after the patient pulled the gun, but before he started taking hostages. He's pretty sure the gunman took about six or seven other patients into your office with him, and at least two doctors."

"Which doctors?" Cuddy asked, her brain ticking away trying to remember which doctors she had assigned to Tuesday morning clinic during scheduling the previous week.

"Dr. House and Dr. Hadley," Judy replied matter-of-factly.

Cuddy froze. Oddly enough, her first thought was that she hadn't even scheduled House for clinic duty that morning, but she must have if he was in the clinic. He would certainly have no reason to grace the place with his presence otherwise. A sudden wave of anger ran over Cuddy like a fireball. The one time that jerk actually showed up on time for clinic duty… it figured that his haphazard act of punctuality would put him in a life or death situation.

"Has anyone tried calling in there yet?" Cuddy finally asked after she managed to compose her thoughts.

"Not yet, Dr. Cuddy," Judy answered, shaking her head. "When I called 911, they instructed us not to try and make contact. The dispatcher said we should wait for the S.W.A.T. team and allow them to do it," she finished as she turned to reach for yet another one of the many ringing phones at the reception desk.

"Screw the S.W.A.T. team. This is my hospital," Cuddy declared with a possessive impatience, reaching for one of the only non-ringing phones and hastily dialing her own office number from memory.

"Crime scene?" House answered offhandedly on the fourth ring. While Thirteen and the nurse that had also been forced into the office were clearly unfazed by House's brash demeanor, both the gunman and the hostages alike appeared to be more than a little confused.

"House!" Cuddy responded, relieved to hear the sound of his voice. "What's going on in there? Is everyone alright?"

"About to be," House replied casually as the armed patient switched the phone onto speaker and placed the receiver back in the cradle. "Assuming he's not lying about his symptoms, but he seems like a pretty straight arrow to me," House added, sending a smart-alecky wink the angry patient's way. "I'm gonna need some propofol to prove it's pulmonary scleroderma," he directed soberly at Cuddy.

"Propofol," Cuddy repeated, somewhat confused. Even for House's typical brand of convoluted reasoning, using a mild form of anesthesia to treat pulmonary scleroderma was pushing it. The brief silence that House used to respond to her statement suddenly clicked into place in Cuddy's mind. House wasn't trying to treat the guy. He was trying to knock him flat on his ass and get everyone out of there safely.

"Have one of the guards bring it in…" House finally began, but he was interrupted by the assailant.

"No guards," the man barked, continuing to point the gun toward House.

"Um, I'll get it," a preppy-looking man in business suit chimed in as he made a dash for the office door.

"And no one's leaving," the gun-toting patient threatened, moving his gun to point it at the now sheepish businessman backing away from the door. The gunman looked around the room hastily, his eyes finally settling on a picture of a smiling Cuddy that looked like it had been taken when she was hiking in the mountains. "She's not a cop," he said to no one in particular. "Dr. Cuddy brings in the drugs. Alone."

Cuddy shuddered at hearing the man's demand but strangely had no qualms as to whether or not she would go through with this dangerous mission of sorts. House was in that office. And if she had the tools to do it, she was going to get him out, personal risks be damned.

"She might be armed," House deadpanned to the assailant, knowing full well that the phone line was still open and that Cuddy could hear his every word. "I'd have her delivered shirtless."

Unfortunately for House, he didn't get to see Cuddy's jaw practically drop all the way down to the reception desk at his comment. She quickly realized she shouldn't be surprised, though. And in a demented sort of way, the fact that House maintained the presence of mind to simultaneously attempt to knock out the gunman, get all of the hostages out of harm's way and make a lewd comment about her body all in one fell swoop helped Cuddy feel more secure in the fact that House had the situation under control. Without a word to anyone else, she swiftly made her way past the security guards standing watch by the outer doors of the clinic and went in search of the drug that, with the luck of House's quick thinking, would bring this whole debacle to an end.