A/N: Thank you for all the people who have written new chapters and new fics lately. Thank you for keeping the dynamic alive. I suppose we owe a debt of gratitude to Hugh & Lisa for having such amazing chemistry that they took mere words far beyond what Shore or any of the writers could have ever imagined and gave those two characters more life than we ever could have dreamed of...and we're so glad for it.

Also...Happy Birthday allthingsdecent & oc7ober! I hope you enjoy your special day!

"I told him I forgave him."

Cuddy looked up at him with love and pride in her eyes. She squeezed his biceps reassuringly. "House, that's wonderful."

"Nolan was right you know. He said when I was ready, it would feel good. It does...a little."

"I'm so proud of you. I wish I'd told you that more often in the past. I was then and I am now." She placed her gloved hands on either side of his face and gently caressed it as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. A moment later he opened his eyes and looked at her. Cuddy shivered, for he wasn't looking at her as much as he was looking through her. He cupped her face and leaned down slowly and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. He didn't go any further, he just leaned his forehead against hers. Cuddy felt him shift uncomfortably, she knew his leg was bothering him.

"Hey," she whispered. "Let's sit down."

Without his cane, House had to lean on Cuddy for support as they moved to the bench and sat down. She reached for his gloved hand, holding it tightly in her own. Neither said a word, but then again words were not necessary as their ability to communicate with touch conveyed much more than words ever could. Just as another gust of wind came through, House sighed deeply and his breath hitched a moment. Cuddy glanced at him sideways and saw a tear rolling down his cheek. Instinctively she put her arm around him and drew him to her and he rested his head on her chest as he wept. He wept for himself and his father - all the wasted years, missed opportunities, unspoken words and moments never shared. And as she held him close and comforted him in his grief, Cuddy wept for all of them.

Later that afternoon, when House and Cuddy entered his mother's home, they were bombarded by delicious smells and the sound of a little girl laughing in the kitchen. Knowing Rachel was in good hands, they decided to take a few more minutes to themselves. House led Cuddy by the hand down the hallway and stopped at the first room on the right. It was a warm and welcoming room with a wood stove, sleeper sofa, and rocking chair. House closed the door behind them then moved Cuddy and Rachel's bags off the bed and sat down, rubbing his leg. The cold had definitely sent the pain up a notch. He watched as Cuddy ran her hands along the shelves full of plastic containers.

"She's got all kinds of crafting supplies here. It's amazing," she said.

"My mom loves doing crafts. My dad fixed this space up just for her."

"She's incredibly talented," she said holding up a small shiny blue ceramic whale with intricate designs. "Has she always done this?"

"Not that I remember. But then again there's a lot about my mom I didn't know."

Cuddy turned to face him, leaning back on the desk behind her.

"This is a nice room. I guess we can stay in here."

"We?"

"Rachel and me. Surely, you don't expect me to sleep with you in your mother's house," she said adamantly.

"My mom's not a prude."

"I didn't say that, I just-"

"Stop thinking about it. Mom's not stupid, she knows we've...you know...," he said sarcastically as he used his hands to display a certain sexual act.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "God, sometimes you are so juvenile. I don't want to think about your mom thinking about us having sex."

"You're staying with me, Rachel stays in here. End of story." He held his hand out to her.

She sashayed over to him and he yanked her to the bed. "House!" She yelled as she fell on it and rolled on her back.

"Shh." He buried his face in her stomach.

"I am not having sex with you."

"Why do you think I always want to have sex?" He asked, feigning hurt.

"Uh...have you met you?"

He raised his head and smirked at her. "Good point."

She lay there looking up at him, that smirk on his face, the sheer clarity of his blue eyes, the way he seemed so relaxed and content. All she ever wanted was for him to be this way, to be happy, whether it was with her or someone else. His happiness meant a great deal to her and at one time, after Mayfield, she had been hoping he'd find it, even if it wasn't with her, though it broke her heart to think he might find it with someone else. But now, knowing she was partly responsible for that look on his face made her heart skip a few beats and nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"What are you staring at?" He asked, curiously.

"You. You look...good."

"That's it?"

"I was thinking."

"About?"

She sighed. Complete honesty was still something new to them but she definitely liked the way it felt. "I was thinking about...how you seem...happy."

He raised her shirt and laid his cheek on her warm stomach. "At this moment, I feel good. I don't know what's going to come an hour from now or tomorrow but at this moment, I'm okay." With his left hand he reached up for her right and their fingers intertwined. She took her left hand and reached down to run her fingers through his graying hair.

"I always liked when you did that," he mumbled into her skin.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They laid like that for a few minutes, he with his cheek against her stomach listening to it making all kinds of noises and she, running her fingers lazily through his sparse hair, when Cuddy spoke up again. "House, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'm with you in this...all of it."

"You mean sex?" He asked, attempting to deflect, but knowing full-well the deeper meaning of her statement.

She sensed his deflection. "You know what I mean."

House raised his head and looked at her thoughtfully, a serious look on his face. "I do." In those two words he conveyed completely and sincerely that he knew exactly what she meant. He decided to move up on the bed and laid next to her, on his left side, draping his right arm over her.

"Are you sure you're okay with us being here?" She asked, tentatively.

"Does anything I've done suggest the contrary?"

"No."

"Then shut up and let me kiss you."

He leaned over and kissed her gently and it didn't take long for light, delicate kisses, to suddenly turn open-mouthed, deep and passionate. After a few months, they broke apart, trying to catch their collective breaths.

"That never gets old," he said, voice full of wonder and amazement.

"Tell me about it," she responded breathlessly. "I can't tell you how many times over the years before we finally got together, that I wished I could feel the way I felt the first time you kissed me."

"Yeah? You remembered that?"

"How could I forget? I'd waited for so long for it to happen."

"So nobody kissed you like I did eh?" He asked, obvious pride in his voice. "Not even Lucas?"

She looked at him annoyed. "You just love to pick on Lucas, don't you?" She sighed. "Lucas wasn't a bad kisser, it's just that he was...different."

"He wasn't me," he said proudly.

She laughed. "True, though I'm not sure that's what I was thinking then but now I would agree with you. When you kiss, you put everything you have into it, like you do with your puzzles or when you annoy me." She watched him crack a smile, knowing that he agreed with her. "When we kiss..." she said, blushing, "it's like at that moment, I'm where I'm meant to be, where I belong. Does that make any sense?"

House looked away for a minute, concentrating on the wall, or rather his response, then he looked down at her. Her eyes were wide and jubilant and she looked so young, so happy, just as she was when they first met. House thought she looked like a schoolgirl in love for the first time. They may have aged but it seemed being together gave them both a youthful exuberance. He decided he liked that and planned on keeping it.

"Yeah, it does."

She was curious about what was going on in his head. "What are you thinking?"

His first thought was to say something snarky but at that moment, her eyes searching his face, his soul, he opted for the plain and simple truth.

"I'm thinking..." he caressed her cheeks. "That I'm the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the planet."

Cuddy nodded her slight disagreement. "It wasn't luck. Luck implies we were at the right place at the right time, which may apply to us back in Michigan but everything after...this is us. We've been through a lot over the years to get here, so if you don't mind, I think we should take credit for this."

"You're right. I just wish we would've gotten it right last time," he said.

"I wish we would've gotten it right the first time," Cuddy said. "Think of what we might've had if we'd made it work. If you hadn't been too scared to call me and if I hadn't gotten so angry at you for not calling that I didn't bother to hunt you down and give you a piece of my mind."

"Angry young Cuddy was a sight for sure," he said, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously.

She chuckled. "We always learn our lessons the hard way, don't we?"

"Seems that way."

"The important thing is we learned. We went into it not being honest with each other. We both set into motion a chain of events that led to the destruction of our relationship. We never could have known that would happen...not the way it did anyway. It took that to finally get us to this moment."

House nodded. He took her hand and put it over his heart. "I'm so sorry."

"I know, House. I am too." Cuddy laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes. After a few moments she asked, "House, do you think your dad would've liked me?"

House was taken back momentarily by the sudden change in conversation. He pulled away from her slightly to look at her. "Well, at first he would spent most of the time wondering what you see in me, trying to convince you that I wasn't relationship material and that you should run in the other direction. He'd tell you that I took everything for granted, thought I was better than everyone else and didn't appreciate what I had and that you were crazy for dating a subordinate. Then he would've criticized you for being a single mom, working so many hours, and leaving your daughter with a nanny all day."

"Geez, did he ever not see the worst in anyone?"

"Mom."

"Even though she cheated on him?"

"I guess he really loved her. She was good for him."

Before Cuddy could reply, Rachel came barreling through the door. "Hows! Hows!" She exclaimed running up to the bed. She tried to climb on the bed but couldn't do it by herself. "I missed you!"

For a moment, House was speechless. It still amazed him sometimes that Rachel was so attached to him. He never thought he could actually love a child but Rachel made it so easy. She was smart, sassy, adorable and she was every bit her mother's daughter. House saw so much of Cuddy in Rachel it amazed him. There was a time he thought himself unworthy of anyone's love, especially a child but Rachel had managed to find a way into his heart. He'd always said kids were the most honest human beings because they had no filter and saw things exactly as they were. He knew if Rachel could love him, there was hope.

"I missed you too runt," he said as he sat up and pulled her onto the bed with them.

"I not a runt."

"Yes, you are."

"No!" Cuddy laughed out loud as she too sat up and saw the way her daughter sat on her knees next to House, hands on her hips in defiance, her bottom lip jutting out.

House gently tapped Cuddy on the arm. "See that? You think it's cute now but wait till she turns sixteen."

Before Cuddy could give him a snarky reply, a voice sounded from the doorway.

"Well, hello you two."

At the sound of Blythe's voice, they turned to find Blythe her standing in the doorway with a dish towel in her hands and a smile on her face.

"I've got something cooked up in the kitchen. That is...unless you have other things you need to do first," she said with a wink.

"Mooom," House said, rolling his eyes while Cuddy blushed.

"Gregory it's not like I've never seen you with a girl," she said. "It's ready when you are," she gestured towards the kitchen, then turned and walked down the hall.

Cuddy turned towards House, her face still slightly pink. "You look so cute when you blush," he mocked.

"Shut up. I'm still not used to this...you know...us and uh...family."

"I know," he said. He gave her a look of reassurance that she wasn't alone in her feelings. It was awkward for him too.

"Mommy I helped cook!" Rachel said, excitedly.

"You did?"

"Uh-huh. Blythe said I could help."

"What did you make?" Cuddy asked.

"Umm," she said, her lips puckering while she looked up at the ceiling in deep thought. "Frid..a...ked..." She stopped, unable to pronounce the word.

"Frikadellen," House chimed in.

"Yeah!" Rachel nodded her head excitedly.

"What on earth is that?" Cuddy asked, looking at House.

"You're kidding, right." He stared at her as if she were crazy. "It's only the most incredibly tasty German dish in the world."

"Come on Hows, let's eat," Rachel interrupted him as she climbed down from the bed and took his hand. House grabbed his cane and stuck his tongue out at Cuddy as he let Rachel lead him down the hall. Cuddy rolled her eyes and grinned madly as she followed them.

Hours later, they finished a delicious dinner and Blythe insisted on cleaning up as she shooed House, Cuddy and Rachel into the living room. House and Rachel were ensconced in an oversized stuffed chair watching television and eating popcorn while Cuddy took the opportunity to familiarize herself with the comfortable lived-in space, checking out the many books and family photos on shelves on one large wall of the living room.

"Oh my gosh, House," she said, picking up a framed photo. It was an eight-by-ten photo of House in his lacrosse uniform in high school. He was handsome, thin and well-built. The first thing she noticed was his intense and mesmerizing blue eyes.

"What?" He asked, not looking up from the television.

"This photo, it's beautiful."

"Yeah my mom was a looker wasn't she?"

"No, it's you," she said handing him the photo. "When was this taken?"

"Last game of my senior year," he said nonchalantly.

"Can I see?" Rachel asked. House handed her the photo.

"Wow, this you Hows?"

"Yep."

"Where's your cane?" She asked, thoughtfully.

"Didn't have one then."

"Oh," she replied.

"What I'd give to see your baby pictures," Cuddy said, taking a seat on the couch.

"Don't have any," he said.

"Oh but of course we do Greg," Blythe chimed in as she entered the room and sat next to Cuddy.

"Oh we get to see Hows baby pictures?" Rachel asked excitedly.

House groaned. "Oh geez, you three ganging up on me already?"

Blythe smiled. "It's okay honey, we'll give you a reprieve tonight. Besides, it's been a long day. Why don't you turn in early?"

"That sounds like a good idea. And this little munchkin," Cuddy said, pointing at Rachel, "Needs a bath first."

Blythe stood up. "There's plenty of towels in the bathroom and if you need spare blankets, they're in the hall closet."

"Thanks," Cuddy replied. "Come on Rach, bath and bedtime."

Rachel gave her best pouty face. "Oh mommy do I have to? Can't I stay up with you guys?"

Blythe smiled warmly at the little girl. She had already become smitten with her. She looked down at Rachel who stood before her. "Honey, go with your mommy. We'll do something special tomorrow okay?"

"Promise?" She asked.

"I promise. Now, I know we just met but may I have a hug?" Rachel nodded and Blythe bent down and picked the little girl up and hugged her. She closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of hugging the little girl she'd grown very fond of and secretly hoped would become her granddaughter eventually. She patted Rachel on the back gently and set her down. "You are a beautiful and smart little girl, you know that?"

Rachel nodded. Cuddy beamed. "Rach go get undressed, I'll be in there shortly."

"Okay mommy," Rachel said as she turned and ran down the hall but stopped in her tracks halfway and ran back into the living room and over to where House sat. Blythe and Cuddy watched her as she approached House and leaned against the arm of the chair, her little face peeking over the arm.

"What's up munchkin?" He asked, looking at her suspiciously.

"You read to me later?"

He looked up at the ceiling pretending to be thinking about it. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her scrunch her face at him. Finally he looked at her and replied, "Okay."

"Yay!" Rachel yelled happily and turned around and skipped down the hall with Blythe and Cuddy close behind. They stopped outside the bedroom door and Cuddy turned towards the older woman. "Thank you for inviting us."

"I'm so glad you're here," Blythe said sincerely. "I haven't seen Greg like this in a very long time. There's something so calm about him with you both here. He is wonderful with Rachel and I can tell she really adores him."

"She does. I never thought they'd be this close but...they are," Cuddy said with a smile.

Blythe took Cuddy's hands in her own. "I know my son better than he thinks I do. He's always been a good man. He's complex and difficult at times but he has a good heart and he is so deserving of happiness. He just needed the love of a good woman...one who understands him, accepts him and appreciates him, to help him see it." Blythe stepped forward and offered Cuddy a hug, which Cuddy warmly reciprocated.

"I'm just glad we got another chance," Cuddy said.

"Me too." Letting Cuddy go, she smiled. "Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight."

Blythe returned to living room which was now dark. She followed the trail of dim light that came from the kitchen where she found her son sitting idly at the kitchen island.

"Greg, do you want something to drink? I've got coffee and tea. Or maybe something a little stronger?"

"Stronger."

He watched her walk out into the dining room and return a moment later with a bottle and two glasses. He did a double-take when he saw the label.

"That's Old Pulteney, where'd you get that?"

"Your dad liked a good Scotch," she said, opening it. "He liked to drink it when the weather was miserable outside...like forty-degrees and raining kind of miserable," she mused.

House picked up the glass and sniffed its contents. His eyes closed and he let out a moan of appreciation. "Now this is the life. Crisp and clean, balanced with medium body. Musty, nutty, sultana, toffee, spices."

Blythe chuckled. "Tou're quite the connoisseur aren't you?"

"I know good Scotch."

"As did your father."

"At least I inherited that," he joked. He took a sip from his glass. "This is so goddamn good."

"Greg!"

"Sorry."

She chuckled. "I'm kidding, son."

"I wonder what dad would say if he saw us drinking his booze?"

"I'd like to think he wouldn't want it going to waste. Your father didn't drink often but when he did it was the good stuff. I haven't had a drop of this since he died, not until tonight."

"Why?"

"I just couldn't, it brought back memories. These last few years, we'd taken to sitting on the swing on the back porch, usually on Saturday nights, looking at the stars, on a Saturday night. We'd have a glass of his favorite and just talk."

"Dad wasn't a talker."

She smiled. "No, he wasn't, which was why when he was in the mood to talk, I'd just let him."

House downed the rest of his drink.

"Do you still miss him?"

"Oh Greg, of course I do. You can't be a part of someone's life for more than fifty years and not miss them. We spent most of our lives together for better or for worse. There were things about John that I loved and things I hated and he could've probably said the same about me, but that's what a relationship is about. You of all people know your father and I were very different and yet...we made it work." She took a sip of her Scotch and continued. "Your father was not an open person but in the last couple of years we talked about a lot of things." She wiped her moist eyes and continued. "It was good for both of us and wonder if sometimes he knew his time was near. When he died, there was still so much more to say, but then again, that's always the way it is, isn't it?"

House stayed silent but nodded his head in agreement.

"One of the hardest things to come to terms with when he died was that I'd lost my last chance to bring you two together."

He looked up at her. "That wasn't your fault. It was up to him...and me."

"I know, but when you love someone, you never stop trying," she said as she placed her hand over his and squeezed it gently, hoping to convey to him the deeper meaning of her words.

They drank their scotch quietly for a few minutes.

"So, tomorrow would you like to go through your father's things?" She asked, hesitantly.

"What's to go through?"

"There's a trunk that belonged to him, some very personal things and I think it's time you see what's in there."

"Are you sure you want me to?" He asked.

She patted his hand. "Yes."

House poured them both a half-glass of scotch. They clinked their glasses together as he shook his head and smirked at her. "I still can't believe I'm sitting here drinking Scotch with you."

"I'm not a prude, Gregory."

House raised an eyebrow.

"I was young once, you know. I had a life before you were born..." she stopped herself realizing the magnitude of her statement.

"I know," he said quietly.

"Greg, I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"I know, mom. I forgive you," he said as he placed his hand over hers.

Cuddy emerged from the bathroom in her robe and her hair in a towel and checked on Rachel who was fast asleep. Apparently Rachel had been so tired she passed out before House had a chance to read to her. Cuddy closed the door, leaving it cracked just a bit before she made her way down the hall to House's room. She knocked gently before she entered.

"Hey," he said. He was sitting on the bed in his tee shirt and boxer briefs, removing the fentanyl patch. He began to massage his thigh.

"How bad is it?"

"Enough. Damn cold weather makes it worse."

Cuddy took the towel off her head and shook out her hair. House watched intently as she took a scrunchy from her bag and put her hair up in a ponytail. Then she shed her robe revealing a pair of boxers and a tank top, her usual bed attire. His breath caught as he watched her. In that casual outfit, with no makeup and her hair pulled back, she again reminded him of the co-ed he'd met in college. She turned around and caught him watching her.

"What?" She asked curiously.

"You're just...so amazing after all these years." His said, his voice full of awe.

"Oh, House," she said, her face turning a light shade of pink.

"It's true. I wish I would've taken care of myself that good."

She finished rubbing her hand creme into her skin, then kneeled in front of him. "I know. But listen to me, you've already made a difference. You've been off the Vicodin, you're exercising, seeing Nolan, your mind and body are strong. I mean feel these..." she wrapped a hand around one bicep which was hard as a rock from his workouts. "God, it wasn't this hard in college was it?"

They looked at one another for a moment then burst out in laughter.

"You know what I meant," she said, smacking his good leg.

"Physically this is the best I've felt since before the infarction," he said with complete honesty.

"Now you've got to keep doing what you're doing."

He sighed and looked down at his leg and realized that Cuddy had managed to distract him with conversation while she massaged his leg. He looked at her appreciatively and she smiled at him. "I don't have a choice," he said but then corrected himself. "Okay I do have a choice. It's the patch, breakthrough pain, therapy and exercise or...Vicodin and everything else that comes with it. We both know what I need to do here."

"Do you miss it? The Vicodin?" She asked, hesitantly.

He hesitated but opted for truth. "Sometimes. I miss it at the times when I don't know how to deal with things, when I want to forget. Yeah, it helped the physical pain but it numbed everything else. When I was on that shit, things didn't hurt as much."

"And now?"

"Shit hurts but at least I can feel." He emphasized that last word for her benefit. "Pain happens when you care." He looked at her and smiled slightly. He could never forget her parting words to him that night. Every time he thought of giving up on himself in therapy, he remembered those words, and they helped motivate him to push forward.

She swallowed hard listening to him recite her words. "It does. It helps too when you share it with someone you love."

"Yeah," he whispered, watching as she carefully massaged his right thigh, taking care not to aggravate it while at the same time hitting all the right spots that alleviated his pain.

"I was always so scared when you took the Vicodin. I knew it alleviated the pain in your leg but I also knew it would kill you eventually." She stopped her movements and looked up at him, her eyes moist with unshed tears. "Day after day, I watched you scarf it down like candy and I did nothing. It nearly killed you."

He pulled her up on her knees and she reached her arms around his waist and rested her head against his stomach. He stroked her hair gently. "You tried, remember? You, Wilson, Nolan...I just never listened, to anyone. I wasn't ready."

She knew he was right but sometimes she did feel like she could've done more. "I know, I wish we would've done things differently. It broke my heart seeing you become an addict, falling apart."

He wondered how he could make her understand it wasn't her fault. "Cuddy, listen to me, I hated it too but back then it was about getting through just one more day. I didn't even think I had a future back then."

It broke her heart to hear that and that's when the tears flowed. "I know. So many times I wanted to tell you...show you that we could have something. I was just too scared," she said between sniffles.

House hated to see her cry. He knew he had done that to her more times in the past than he could count and though he'd never admitted it, it broke his heart every single time. He removed her arms from his waist and pulled her up on the bed next to him. As she sniffled, he wiped the tears away ever so gently with his thumb. She leaned into him and he put his arm around her.

Cuddy took a deep breath and shuddered in his arms. There had been moments like this, when they were together before, when he let his guard down and comforted her. There were times he showed a tender side of himself to her that he'd hidden from others and she only wished she'd acknowledged it back then instead overlooking it in favor of calling him out on his mistakes. She knew all too well that he guarded this side of him because he was afraid of a moment it would be used against him as a sign of weakness. But Gregory House was not weak, not by any means. She looked up at him and placed her hands on either side of his face, caressing that stubble she loved so much.

"Even with everything we've been through, I can't imagine my life without you," she said sincerely.

"Cuddy, I'm so sorry I put you through that. I was a selfish bastard. I'm here now." He lifted her chin from his chest."Hey, look at me. I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled through her tears. "I know."

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

Cuddy's heart skipped a beat. House rarely professed his love but only because he didn't feel it was something that needed to be done every waking moment. When he did, it was a rare gift to be cherished.

"I love you too," she whispered.

"You okay?" He asked, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes. She nodded, the beautiful smile he loved so much returned to her face.

"That's my girl," he said. He held her face in his hands and his thumbs caressed her delicate features as he leaned forward and his lips softly caressed hers. It was not a kiss full of lust or passion, rather it was one of gentle reassurance, his attempt to convey through actions that he was there for her and with her and that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Come on," he said, as they broke apart. "Let's get some sleep.

They stood from the bed and went to their respective sides, pulled down the covers and climbed in. House turned off the lamp on the nightstand and rolled onto his left side as Cuddy scooted back and nestled against him. He moved her hair and kissed her bare shoulder, then wrapped his arm around her, sliding it underneath her tank top, caressing the soft, warm skin underneath. Cuddy smiled and placed her right hand over his as he soothed her. They lay that way for a long time and House continued his motions until her breathing slowed and she fell asleep.

Growth anyone? I love how these two are making such wonderful strides, don't you?

One more thing...reviews are love. I know many of you read but don't comment and I just want to say that all of us who put our hearts into these love to get feedback. Please take a moment to tell me what you think about these chapters. How does it all make you feel? Where do you see it going?