A/N: All I can say is thanks for hanging in there! It's been a rough two weeks. I was too tired to update last weekend and this past weekend I had the flu. Thankfully I'm feeling much better.

Many thanks to my good friend GratefulInsomniac for taking a peek at this last night. Having been sick, I needed someone to make sure I was still on my game.

Also want to give a shout out to RochelleRenee, Allthingsdecent, DrDiagnostic, Raquel9 and MystryGAB for their recent fic updates. You guys kick ass.

So, where are we in the story? Well, let's see...House and Wilson arrived in Boston on Thursday, Cuddy had the accident on Saturday, arrived home from the hospital on Sunday, and Arlene showed up on Monday morning...so we pick up there.

A few hours after Arlene showed up at her daughter's door, she was in the kitchen. Cuddy didn't care what her mother was doing, as she had more important things to do. At the moment, she was curled up on the couch with Rachel watching cartoons, or at least trying to, as they were interrupted by House who was pacing the living room behind them, on his cell phone in an effort to help his team solve a new case. Cuddy finally turned off the television and suggested to Rachel that she go into the kitchen to help her grandmother. As House paced and Cuddy watched him work, the doorbell rang. Cuddy moved to answer but House stopped her, walking over to answer it himself. A moment later he ushered Wilson into the living room as he continued his phone conversation.

Wilson sat on the couch next to Cuddy and gave her a gentle hug. "How ya feeling?" he asked.

"I'm still sore, head hurts occasionally but other than that I'm okay."

"You're pretty lucky."

"I know."

"What's up with him?" Wilson asked nodding over to where House was still pacing.

"Case. I'll admit it's kinda nice seeing him like this."

House got off the phone; he had a worried look on his face.

"What is it, House?" Wilson asked.

"They want me to come back."

"Oh." Cuddy was clearly disappointed.

"I'm not going."

"Your team needs you," she said.

"You need me."

"I do but there's no reason you can't come back when you're done."

House had a pensive look on his face. Cuddy reached for his hand and pulled him down next to her. At that moment she noticed Wilson slipped out of the room giving them some privacy. She placed her hand gently on the side of House's stubbled face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She spoke softly. "That you are here with me now means more to me than you could ever know. I do need you but I also understand you have a job to do. People come to you to save their lives because nobody else can. It's important to you and it's important to me too. I'm going to be okay but your patient might not. You have to do this, it's who you are. When you solve the case, you'll come back."

House opened his eyes and said nothing. Cuddy felt as if she could see right into his soul. She shivered for a moment; it was nothing short of amazing that he had such a powerful effect on her. "House, you were there for me so much over the years. You had your own unique way of making me feel loved and cared for and less alone. You saved me countless times only I never realized it until it was too late." Cuddy trailed her fingers down his jawline and leaned forward grazing his lips softly, just barely touching them. Her desire to show him just how sincere she was overtook her and she pressed her lips against his and he parted them, welcoming her tongue. Their kiss was slow, passionate, and full of longing and reassurance. They each moaned their pleasure, not caring if anyone else heard them. Cuddy opened her eyes and watched House, his eyes were closed and he was completely lost in the kiss. She loved watching his response when they kissed, he was always so much more relaxed. She pulled back a bit and smiled against his lips. He opened his eyes and gave her a sly grin.

"You really are something, you know that?"

"I know." She smiled back at him.

"Okay, I'll go."

"Good." Cuddy leaned forward and embraced him. As he put his arms around her and gently pulled her closer to him, she sighed into him and whispered, "I don't know how I ever made it through these last few years without you." Her words warmed his heart. House was a man who put more faith in action over words but it didn't mean he didn't need to hear those words from time to time. They relaxed into one another and Cuddy rubbed House's back soothingly while he gently ran his fingers through her hair. Neither spoke, but they both knew in that moment, their actions expressed so much more than words ever could.

Later that afternoon House and Wilson were on their way back to Princeton. They'd enjoyed a bit of banter and conversation until House started yawning. Wilson told him to get some sleep.

It was cold and he was late arriving home from the beach party, having been somewhat distracted by the fun he was having performing card tricks for the girls in the group. He rode his bike home in the dark, shivering realizing he'd forgotten to get his jacket back from the girl who borrowed it. He couldn't even remember her name. She was gorgeous but not his type, too stuck on herself and more interested in guys with money than sons of Marine officers. She had been cold and his father had taught him to be a gentleman and so House loaned his favorite leather jacket, the one his grandmother had given him for his birthday. When he arrived home, no lights were on and he breathed a sigh of relief that his parents were asleep. As he put his key in the lock of the back door and opened it, he was met with a sudden bright light and the angry face of his father staring down at him.

"What are YOU doing home so late? Didn't we give you a curfew?"

"Yeah"

"What did you say boy?"

"I mean yes, sir."

"That's better."

"Why are you late?"

"I lost track of time."

"Oh, you did? Your mother was worried about you."

"I'm sorry."

"Where's your jacket?"

"I forgot it, I loaned it to a girl-"

"A girl? Is that what this is about? Were you making out with some tramp?"

"No! She was cold-"

"Enough. You know young man; there are rules in place for a reason. I think you need to understand that."

"Yes sir."

"Don't think you're getting out of it that easy. You want to come home late? Worry your mother? Ride around without a jacket and get sick? Fine. Go," he said pointing at the door.

"What?"

"You heard me, move."

House backed out the door, not understanding what his father was doing. Suddenly as he took a step back he lost his balance and fell backwards and down the steps. As he looked up, he heard the door lock and saw the room go dark. He got up quickly and pounded on the door, "Dad let me in, it's cold out here," but his father never returned, leaving his son out in the cold for the night. He called his father's name a few more times but there was no reply.

House walked around the house, trying the front door but it too was locked. He wanted to pound on the door but was afraid to wake his mother. He never told her the things his father did because he didn't want to worry her; it was hard enough being the wife of a decorated Marine pilot. House walked around the yard looking for a place to get away from the cold. He found a blanket folded on some milk cartons next to the garage. It was the old blue blanket his father used to lay on when he worked under his car. It smelled of oil and had holes in it but it looked like it might be warm. He picked up the blanket and chose to sit on the side of the house away from the wind. He sat down on the cold ground with the blanket around him, shivering and teeth chattering. He thought about how only an hour earlier he'd been laughing and having a good time with his friends.

House awoke with a start with Wilson's hand shaking his arm.

"What?" House was annoyed and pulled his arm back. He was shivering.

"You okay?"

"Fine. Why the hell is it so cold in here?"

"It's a little warm so I put the A/C on. What's with you? You were shivering and calling out in your sleep."

"I'm fine."

"Anything you want to-"

"Nope."

"Okay, guess it's too late anyway, we're back. You want me to drop you at your place or the hospital?"

"Hospital."

Wilson nodded. He should have realized the hospital would be his first stop. He couldn't get the sound of House's desperate plea out of his head. Why was he calling out for his father? He didn't have time to prod House further as they arrived at the hospital. He watched House get out of the car and grab his backpack. House turned around and muttered his thanks and a moment later he was gone. It was dark and he was tired so he sighed and put the car in gear and drove off towards the loft.

House limped into his office, it was dark and only the lamp on his desk was lit, the team expecting him. He threw his backpack on the chair and picked up his ball. He was tired and he hadn't been able to get the dream out of his mind. It bothered him that he was thinking about his father. Why now? He thought. Everything was going so well.

"House?"

House turned to see Chase, white coat wrinkled, hair mussed and looking very tired. "You look like hell."

"Thanks, so do you."

"Where's the team?" House asked.

"Just waiting on you." He pointed towards the conference room where a very tired Adams and Park waited.

"Where's Taub?"

"Babysitting."

"We'll get him on the phone if we need him. Let's go," he said leading Chase into the conference room.

"Welcome back, House," said Park.

"Ok let's start at the beginning."

Adams began. "Thirty-seven year old woman. Pain and cramping in the calves, thighs, buttocks and feet. It started a few years ago but she's a dancer and thought it it was somehow related to that but then it became more frequent to the point where she can barely walk. She said her legs feel like stone. It's got to be poor circulation but we can't find anything."

House raised an eyebrow. "Stone?"

"That's what she said," replied an exhausted Chase. He joined the team at the table while House cleaned the whiteboard so they could start over. The gears in his mind were turning rapidly.

Twelve hours later, at around nine in the morning, the team still hadn't solved the case. The patient had been at the hospital for three days losing circulation in her lower limbs. If it continued, she would die. House was desperate, he poured through medical journals, paced the hallways, bounced his ball against he walls of his office and took a few trips up to the roof. He wasn't inspired by anything and it bothered him that he hadn't had a single epiphany. To add to his frustration, he was tired and hungry and he longed to be back in Boston. When he was there, with Cuddy, everything was okay but in the back of his mind he worried that she might come to her senses and realize she was better off without him. He couldn't handle that rejection again. He knew he could survive it but he wasn't sure he wanted to. He was up on the roof for the third time in as many hours when his cell phone rang. He looked at the number and his anxiety eased.

"House."

"Hey."

House smiled. "Well, well Dr. Cuddy, miss me already."

"No, just checking up on the patient." She sounded amused.

"Come now, you don't care about the patient; you just care about the hot doctor treating her."

"You wish."

"I so know you."

"Do you?"

"Yes, I do."

"What am I doing right now?"

"You're in bed with your skimpiest nightie hiked up over your luscious breasts, no panties-"

"You wish."

"Oh, you are an evil temptress."

"You know, the sooner you get back here..." Cuddy stopped there, teasing him, knowing it would drive him crazy. She smiled on her end of the phone when he was speechless for a moment.

"House?"

After a moment of contemplation, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her at that moment, he replied, in a deep, sexy voice, "Yes?"

She chuckled into the phone. "Are you still there?"

"Just pondering a thought."

"Would you like to share?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" House growled into the phone in the sexy voice he knew Cuddy once loved. He heard her laugh on the other end.

Despite her pain, Cuddy began to feel an ache in her lower regions, it was something only he made her feel. Just he sound of his voice could stir her.

House noticed her silence and brought her out of it. "Okay so if you're not doing deliciously nasty things to yourself, what are you doing?"

"Actually I just got off the phone with my sister. She wanted to know how I was doing and if I'd killed mom yet."

"Oh wait...let me ponder that thought for a moment."

Cuddy laughed. "Listen, I'm just glad it's only mom and not her and Julia. I love my sister but at times she's just like mom. I couldn't handle both of them right now."

House loved the sound of Cuddy's laughter and reveled in the fact that he could still make her laugh like that.

"I wanted to call you earlier but she had me on the phone forever. So uh...how's the patient?" She asked.

House rubbed his face with his left hand; he looked out over Princeton watching the sun come up. "I don't know what's wrong with her."

"Oh House, I'm sorry," she said sincerely. Cuddy knew how important it was to him to get the correct diagnosis, not just for the patient, but for himself. She knew he'd be a mess if he didn't solve this spent the next few minutes throwing out ideas and the more she talked, she noticed House was awfully quiet.

"House?"

No response.

"Hello?"

House had gotten lost in his thoughts. It was something Cuddy said that got him thinking. Suddenly it hit him. "I've got to go, I'll call you back," he said as he hung up.

On the other end of the line, Cuddy was at first shocked that he hung up on her, and then she smiled realizing he'd gotten his epiphany. She tossed her phone on the coffee table and leaned back to relax on the couch. She was happy she could help him and hoped he had finally solved the case so he could get back to Boston. She smiled at the thought that she felt safe and comforted around him. I need to be sure I tell him that, she thought. She closed her eyes and relaxed to the memory of the kiss they'd shared just a day earlier.

Two hours later, House limped into the patient's room after having called his team and instructing them to meet him there.

Chase was the first to greet him. "House, what's going on?"

He looked at the patient. "Mrs...," he paused to look at Park for help.

"Gianelli."

"Thank you." He said to Park. Turning to the patient he said, "You," he pointed his cane at the patient,
"are a liar."

"What are you talking about? Who are you?"

"I, my good woman am the man about to save your life." The team looked at him confused. He sighed and gave her a look of disgust. "Why didn't you tell my team that your mother and both of your sisters are taking the eternal celestial dirt nap?"

"Huh?" She looked confused.

"You know...dead?" House pointed towards the ground with his cane.

"I didn't think it was important."

"Really? Were they your family?"

"Yes."

"Well...what part of family history do you not understand?"

Chase looked at House suspiciously. "House, what are you talking about?"

"Maria Antonia Gianelli here had two siblings, Isabella and Grazia who were significantly older than her and died of coronary artery disease within three years of one another. Their mother died fifteen years ago, from a heart attack. I'm assuming she had CAD as well. All three probably suffered from extreme arthritis too."

"How did you know?"

"I just do. But it wasn't arthritis at all; they suffered from a rare genetic disease called arterial calcification disorder. Thing is, it generally affects the lower limbs while leaving the coronary arteries alone. In the case of your siblings and your mother it was likely that CAD led to their deaths but it was probably assumed that their circulation problems were caused by that. Congratulations. You're only the thirteenth person I know of, with this interesting rare genetic disorder, although since your mother and sisters are dead, you're only the tenth person in the world actually diagnosed."

"Nobody would have thought their symptoms were related to CAD or arthritis because the symptoms were masked." Adams said, amazed that House solved the complex puzzle.

"Exactly," House replied.

"Am I going to live?" The patient asked.

"You need surgery to reroute the blood flow. With the exception of this condition, you're in good health and you should recover fine. Because of the history of CAD in your family you should have your cholesterol checked regularly and get a full physical at least once every six months."

"That's it?"

"Not quite." House became more serious.

"What's wrong?"

"You've had this genetic disorder all your life but it appears to have worked its magic very slowly over a long period of time. There is some permanent damage. The surgery will fix just about everything...except your left foot."

"What do you mean?"

House sat on the bed next to the woman, an unusual move for him and the looks from his team didn't go unnoticed by him. He remembered a time years back when he was the patient and the doctor was breaking similar news to him. He tapped his cane on the floor and then, still looking down, he said, "We have to amputate your foot."

"What?" The patient was hysterical. "I've been dancing all my life. This is what I love, you...you can't do this."

He remained quiet as she sobbed through her words, then he spoke. "We don't have a choice. If you don't have the surgery, you will die."

"I don't understand. You said you could reroute the blood flow. Why can't you fix this?"

House was torn between wanting to console the patient and wanting to yell at her for even questioning the obvious. However, he remained calm. "Your foot has lost all circulation, the tissue is dead and it will only get worse. It could kill you." He sighed and looked directly at her. "As the patient it's your choice in the end. You need to know that if you decide to amputate you won't dance again, at least not in the ballet, but there are other things you can do and prosthetics have come a long way."

"It's my foot."

"I know."

The patient sobbed. "I gave up everything for this career. It always came first. I traveled so much I hardly saw my mother and sisters, I didn't even find the time to maintain a regular relationship. Now, I'll have nothing."

House looked at her. In her eyes he saw the same pain and sadness he'd once felt. "I'm sorry," he said to the patient. His admission took his team by surprise.

The patient looked at him, still sobbing. "You're sure there's no other way?"

House shook his head no and then stood up. His leg was bothering him and he had to get out of there. He began to limp out of her room when she called to him.

"Dr. House?"

He turned around.

"I'll do it."

He nodded, then turned and walked away.

The patient lay there for a moment then looked over at Park. "I can't believe I have to do this," she said crying again.

Park placed her hand on the patient's shoulder. "If there was any other way...he...Dr. House is one of the best doctors in the world, if he says you should do it, you should do it."

The patient was silent for a moment; eventually she nodded her head in silent resignation.

Wilson walked into his office around noon, having taken a half day off to attend a memorial service for one of his patients.

"Wilson old man, where the hell have you been?" House shouted from the couch in the darkened office.

"House? What the hell? Don't you have an office? Better yet, don't you have an apartment with one of those things..." He waved his hands around wildly, "...that you sleep in? You know...something called a bed?" He asked as he opened the blinds.

House shielded his eyes from the glaring noon sun. "Why mess up a perfectly clean, made bed when I can lie on this comfy couch and scare the hell out of you? Speaking of why are you late?"

"What are you? My mother?"

"You wish. Where ya been?"

"Memorial service for a former patient."

"That's nice. You going to ask me about my case?"

"I just got here."

"It's all about you isn't it?"

"Fine, how's your case?"

"Solved it. The brilliant diagnostician does it again."

"So what was it?"

"Arterial Calcification Disorder."

"Seriously? Never even heard of it."

"Exactly, it's new, it's rare, it's genetic, and it's a beauty."

"Only you can make a rare genetic disease seem...oh I don't know...poetic? So how'd you figure it out?"

"Actually, I damn near didn't. It was something Cuddy said earlier..."

"You talked to her?"

"Well yeah? She missed me."

"Aww."

House gave Wilson an annoyed look. "As I was saying, something she said made me think of an article I'd read and I did some research and the rest is history."

"Just like that?"

"Yep just like that." House twirled his cane in satisfaction.

"So what's the treatment?"

House was quiet for a moment and he stopped spinning his cane.

"House?"

"She's got to have surgery," he said in a somber voice.

"Oh." Wilson was taken back by House's sudden change in mood. "So now what?"

"I guess I'll head back to Boston."

"Driving or flying?"

"Kinda far to take the bike. I hate driving but I need a way to get around."

"You could fly first class and then rent a car."

"Do I look like moneybags to you?"

"House you pull in a hefty six figures per year, you own your apartment, your car is paid for, I pay for your meals, what else could you have since you don't do hookers and drugs anymore?"

House just looked at him innocently. "What about all the donations I make to the poor?"

"Seriously?"

"You act like you don't believe me."

Wilson took a seat at his desk and shuffled papers in annoyance. "Okay, so what's your plan?"

"I'll probably drive my car to Boston; have a few errands to run first." House leaned forward and massaged his thigh, he grimaced in pain.

"You okay?"

"Nothing I can't handle. I took the patch off yesterday and I need some PT."

"Anything I can do?"

House thought about it. "Can you just keep an eye on the team and make sure they don't blow anything up?"

"Isn't that what you have Chase for?"

House gave him a deadpan look. "I'd feel better if my bestest buddy checked up on them occasionally."

"Yeah, I'll do it but you owe me."

Before House could give a smartass reply, there was a knock at the door. Wilson told the party to enter and there stood Foreman and Chase. When they saw House they both smiled widely.

"House, I wouldn't have known you were back if Chase hadn't told me."

"Gee, remind me to thank you," House said sarcastically looking at Chase. "Pretend you didn't see me, I'm leaving."

"Yeah, about that..." Chase just looked at House with a quizzical expression.

"What?"

"Well..."

Foreman intervened. "You going to spill the beans on what's up in Boston?"

Wilson couldn't hide his smirk. It wasn't often House's underlings got the best of him but this time they had.

"There's nothing to spill."

"Hmm...didn't sound that way to me when we were on the phone."

"Oh come on Chase; seriously is my private life that interesting to you?"

"Only when it involves one hot former Dean of Medicine," Chase said. He and Foreman looked at House with a look that said they were determined they weren't leaving without some answers.

House pushed himself off the couch. "See you later," he said to Wilson and departed the office with Foreman and Chase close behind. Unfortunately with a limp he was no match for the two young doctors.

"Come on House, we won't tell anyone, just tell us what's going on."

"Why?"

"Well...we uh...care?" Chase said. House thought it actually sounded sincere.

He turned around and confronted them outside his office. "Really? I've been a real son of a bitch to you two for years, I helped break up your marriage," he said looking at Chase, then he pointed his cane at Foreman, "and I know I've done plenty of stuff to piss you off. Now you tell me you care?"

"House, we've known you a long time, you're not a bad guy, you've just been through a lot of shit. Listen if you and Cuddy have worked things out, that's your business. It's just...nice, that's all." Foreman said as he and Chase followed House into his office, past the curious eyes of Park and Adams.

"House, we just want to see you happy...at least...whatever that is for you," said Chase.

House sat behind his desk and contemplated his answer. He looked up at the Foreman and Chase, who seemed genuinely interested in his well-being. Despite everything, he trusted the two doctors. The only reason he'd been hard on them in the past was because he expected so much from them. He always knew they were capable of being excellent doctors and he felt it was his job to push them to the limit to prove it. He'd never admit it to them directly but they had earned his trust.

"Cuddy and I have been corresponding for a while now." He sat back and waited for a smartass remark which never came so he continued, "She knew Wilson was going to the conference and she invited me up."

"And?"

"You want more?"

Chase smiled and it made House roll his eyes at the romantic side of the Aussie who once whored himself out after Cameron left him. "No, it's just that you two were destined to be together, everyone knew it, you two just didn't know how to make it work."

"Isn't that the truth?" Foreman chimed in. House gave him a look. "What? Hell, it wasn't just you. Cuddy's a perfectionist, has to be in control of everything, a woman like that would drive me crazy but you...somehow you two just fit. Frankly I never thought you two could stay away from each other forever."

House sighed and twirled his cane.

"So Cuddy is the reason you wanted time off," Foreman said.

"Something like that."

House leaned forward in his chair, he looked completely serious. "Listen, this...stays between us. No rumors, no gossip, not even to Taub or them," he said pointing at Adams and Park in the other room. "You know I don't care what people say about me but Cuddy is off limits. Just don't say a word."

"Okay," said Chase and Foreman nodded in agreement then turned and headed out the door.

When they were gone, House sat back in his chair and pondered for a while until he realized he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open and needed some sleep. With no vehicle at the hospital and Wilson working, he called a cab to meet him at the front entrance, then grabbed his bag, turned out the lights and left his office. When he reached the entrance downstairs, the cab was already waiting for him. After he got in and gave the driver his address, he remembered something important he had to do. He picked up his phone and dialed. After a moment, he spoke.

"Hey, it's House. I need to talk to you."

So...who does House need to talk to? Stay tuned.

As to the diagnosis, Arterial Calcification Disorder is in fact a real rare genetic disease. The NIH's Undiagnosed Disease Pilot Program discovered it in just nine people in three unrelated families and it is deadly if it goes undiagnosed. Treatment, if the disease is discovered in time, is surgery to reroute the blood flow through other arteries.

I appreciate your patience. I've never been two weeks late with an update before! Hopefully this won't happen very often.