A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter for many reasons and it will be obvious to you when you finish it. There's a segment in this chapter that just hit me as I was writing last night. When I thought of it, I had to include it as it just reflected House and Cuddy so well.

Many thanks to Cherokee Jedi for reading the segments and giving me advice as we discussed plot points.

That night, around midnight, a very weary House arrived at his apartment. Between wrapping up months worth of discharge summaries and other paperwork, working on the case that was sent over from Saint Sebastian's, and assisting in the extremely short-staffed emergency room after a nasty multiple car pileup on the interstate, House was beyond exhausted. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in three days and couldn't wait to get into his own bed. Sleeping on the Eames chair in his office had wreaked havoc not just on his leg but his entire body. When he departed the hospital, he'd left explicit instructions for his team not to call him unless it were an emergency. He threw his coat on the couch and limped into the kitchen, turning lights on along the way. He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and pressed the button on his answering machine. He uncapped and gulped down the cold liquid as he listened to his messages.

"Dr. House, this is Dr. Baker from Massachusetts General. I've been trying to reach you on your cell phone today but had no luck. We'd like you to come back and give another lecture next week. Also, I'd like to talk to you about something else which is very important...something I think would be of great interest to you. Please give me a call as soon as possible. Thank you."

House put down the bottle and took out his phone and sure enough he'd accidentally turned it off.

"Huh," he grunted out loud. "That would explain why nobody's called me." He threw the phone on the counter then turned around and limped out, making his way down the hall towards the bathroom for a hot bath and what he hoped would be twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. His curiosity about the phone call was definitely piqued but everything would have to wait till morning.

"House, this is really something, I mean talk about an opportunity. Teaching, research and running a brand new diagnostics center." Wilson sat across from House at PJ's enjoying a pancake brunch while House told his friend about the phone call with Baker.

"I'm not even officially unemployed yet and I've got a job. How the hell does that happen?" While House was thrilled about the job opportunity, he still couldn't believe things were coming together so easily. Without a doubt, he expected the worst.

"It doesn't...not to most people but you?" Wilson laughed out loud. "You're not like most people."

"With all the shit I've done, they want to hire me."

"You're negating."

"I'm a realist," he stressed.

"You always expect the worst."

House looked at Wilson like he was an idiot. "Duh," he said making a face. "Because the worst usually happens."

"Of course, poor House, everything bad happens to you and everyone hates you," Wilson mumbled.

"What's up with you?" House asked, annoyed at Wilson's attitude.

Wilson leaned forward and gave House a serious look. "Things are going your way and all you can do is sit there and wonder when it's all going to blow up in your face. There are people who would be thrilled to have this opportunity. I know you want this, it's obvious, but you're creating something out of nothing, you're spending valuable time worried something bad is going to happen instead of just living in the moment. This is what..." he threw his hands up in the air gesturing wildly. "This is what you do...you anticipate all the possible ways that things could go wrong so you can be prepared."

"Fine. You read me okay? Yeah, I'm actually happy about this...I just...things always get screwed up somehow, right? I can't help it, that's who I am, who I have always been."

Wilson smirked at that comment. Of course it's who he's always been, he thought. House had changed but still...somewhere in the recesses of that brilliant mind were those little thoughts always nagging at him and trying to detract him from happiness. His friend had made great strides since he got his life together and while sometimes he took a step back, he found a way to pick himself up and move forward. The House he knew now was a much stronger man than he had ever known and while there was always a chance for things to get screwed up, he believed House would survive whatever was dealt him.

Wilson finally responded. "You have to trust yourself here."

"What makes me more deserving than the next guy?" He asked, then he leaned back and looked out the window while fingering the edge of his coffee mug, Wilson knew he had to do something. As much as he loved his friend, he was just annoyed at his constantly thinking he wasn't deserving. So, he tried another approach.

"Okay look at it this way. Everything that happens to us is the result of an action committed either by us or someone else, right?" House nodded and he continued. "Right now things are going good for you. Life is good, you're happy...for the first time in a long time. How did it happen this way? Chance?" He laughed. "You don't believe in chance. Destiny? Randomness? You don't believe in that either. Okay so that means everything that is happening to you can only be a consequence of your own actions or...the actions of someone else."

Wilson saw House look from the window back to him and he knew he had his attention.

"You decided you wanted a better life so you went back into therapy and sought help for your addiction and pain management. You chose to make things right with me and Cuddy, her sister and hell...even that guy Jerry. And you made the move to improve the relationship you have with your mother. You have set in motion a chain of events that have gotten you to this point."

House sat silently, absorbing it all.

"Every action has a reaction, as a man of science, you know this. In the past, your negative actions caused equally negative reactions. Now, your positive actions are resulting in equally positive reactions. If you say you don't deserve the good stuff then ultimately you're saying you didn't deserve the bad stuff either. I know you and you believe that a person's actions have consequences. You firmly believe that you deserved to suffer the consequences of your bad behavior in the past. So if that's the case, if you deserved the bad, then it holds true that you deserve the good too. Tell me...where am I wrong here?"

House watched Wilson intently and he realized he couldn't deny his friend's logic. Wilson always had a knack for making him see things a bit more clearly, that was, when he wasn't nagging him to death.

"You're not," he finally replied. "You're not wrong."

Wilson smiled smugly in great satisfaction at the breakthrough. Selfishly he didn't want House to leave but he was happy for him and wanted him to embrace this moment because he really believed he deserved it. Finally, House was getting to live the kind of life he never thought deserved when the whole time it wasn't a matter of what he deserved, but rather making the right choices in life to get it.

"Good. This means that you need to stop questioning and start enjoying fully the fruits of your labors. You've worked hard for this. Everyone else gets to enjoy their life, now it's time for you to enjoy yours."

House took a sip of his coffee. "God you'd make a good shrink," he said pointing a finger at Wilson.

"No, but do I make a damn good friend," he mused.

House smirked. "Oh shut up,"he said as he stabbed at Wilson's last pancake and plopped it onto his own plate.

Cuddy and Sharon sat on the floor of her home office going through piles of paperwork on Saturday morning. It was too cold to go anywhere and most of the roads were icy so Cuddy had invited her friend over to help organize and give the girls some time to play. She could hear them giggling from Rachel's room, no doubt playing in the old clothes and makeup she'd given them. Cuddy made them promise to keep the makeup on them and the old towels she provided. As Cuddy surveyed the mess around them, she wondered why it took so long to do something about getting organized.

House. He's moving in with me, she thought. A smile graced her face and it didn't go unnoticed by her friend who called her name three times to get her attention.

"Lisa?"

"Oh, sorry," she said, embarrassed, her face was slightly flushed.

"Where were you?"

"Actually...I was thinking about House."

"Of course you were," Sharon mused. She held up some small booklets and laughed. "Jesus, these look twenty years old, do you even still have half of these appliances anymore?"

"Probably not, here let me see." Sharon tossed the bound package of warranties and manuals to her. "Oh God, this is that old old Oster blender my mother gave me a thousand years ago." She threw the manual into the shred pile.

"So have you heard from House?" Sharon asked.

"No. I tried to call him last night but no answer. I called Wilson and he said the team stayed late with the patient and got hit with a mess in the ER. My guess is he got home pretty late."

"What do you think of his offer?"

"I'm floored. I'm just...I can't believe it," Cuddy replied. "As medical minds go, House is the best," Cuddy said proudly. "He's not the most orthodox or the most ethical but he gets results. I just hope they put up with him because it's not easy being his boss."

"Well, he put you in some pretty precarious positions. How you managed to save his ass so often is beyond me but I'm betting you had the goods on everyone didn't you?" She eyed her friend curiously.

"It wasn't easy at times convincing the Board to keep him but I knew where the bodies were buried and most times it was understood that so long as I could control him, they'd let him stay. I did however have to make some concessions at times."

"Nancy is going to have her hands full."

"She is," Cuddy sighed loudly.

Sharon laughed. "You think they can get along?"

"I think so. Nancy is an intelligent and reasonable person and respected throughout the medical community. She is a good leader and people won't question her hiring him and if they do she won't care. And House...well...he respects people who stand up for what they believe in even if he thinks they're wrong. He hates hypocrisy with a passion too. I think it can work. They'll just have to feel each other out. "

"Yeah but he's going to push, it's what he does. What if he goes too far?"

Cuddy shrugged. "He'll push her but she'll push back. He thrives on that...at least he did with me but maybe that's because it's how we always worked." She thought nostalgically for a moment about how that push and pull aspect of their relationship was so evident from the moment they first met.

"He actually needs someone to say no to him. He'll have to learn his boundaries with her. Working for her actually might be easier for him than when he worked for mebecause they'll lack some of the things that made our working relationship so...unique. I mean...I did let him get away with a lot because I believed in him, I trusted his judgment at times more than my own. But you know...the history we had played a huge part in it. I denied it but it did. Nobody would've understood, hell I don't even think we understood it, it was just something we felt...something that was always there. It was this intensely personal and very deep...trust. We knew each other's secrets, our hopes and fears. We knew the best and worst about each other. In a way I guess we manipulated each other with that knowledge."

"That is so screwed up." Sharon smiled at her.

"I suppose it was. And the funny thing is that although I fought him with the excuse that he was putting my job on the line, I actually knew that if it came down to that, he'd be there for me when it really counted. He'd have my back." She realized how ridiculous she must have sounded considering her actions of the past betrayed her words. "It's so insane that I always knew he'd come through for me and I told him I broke up with him because I didn't think he could."

"As a doctor, you know traumatic life-altering experiences can cause people to make hasty and sometimes unwise decisions. At that time you thought you were doing the right thing. Hindsight can be a bitch." Sharon replied.

Cuddy nodded in agreement as she threw some old bills in the shred pile. "There were times I needed someone...to help me, to lean on for support. I'd turn around and there he was. There was this one time I was short donations for the new NICU unit and thought we'd have to shelve the project. He knew how important it was to me and two days later I had two checks totaling an additional five hundred thousand in my hand and when I thanked them, one of the donors simply smiled at me and said "Don't thank me, thank Dr. House. He is one convincing son of a bitch."

"Did you ever ask him about it?"

"Yeah, he said he had no idea what I was talking about. But I knew and so did he and we never discussed it after that. And then you know of course about the IVF when he gave me the shots and he never said a word to anyone about it, not even Wilson. And then he showed up at my door when I lost Joy. I felt so...just so...lost and there he was at my door. And when I finally became a foster mom to Rachel, I'd thought seriously about giving her back because I couldn't bond with her. Well damnit House was being a real asshole and it drove me crazy but it wasn't until later that I realized because he knew I wanted her with all my heart and that I was ready to give up, that he pushed me so damn hard. It's his own insane method but it works. He didn't let me give up. He pushed me and while some, including me, had the impression he wanted me to give her up, he really just wanted me to fight for whatever it was I really wanted. In the end, I did fight, I stuck with it...and the rest is history."

Sharon leaned against the filing cabinet watching her friend rattle on about House. Oh, she'd heard the stories before but she didn't mind hearing them again.

"And when my job was in jeopardy...mostly because of his crap...he always had my back. He never let me take the fall for his mistakes. He always owned up to them and defended me against the board. When my mother was dying and I didn't know what to do, he stood up to me and forced me to see the light...which eventually enabled us to save her life and actually helped make things between me and mom just a little better. And then with Rachel...when he lied and tried to get her into that preschool because he knew I wanted her to go there..."

Cuddy looked up and realized she'd been going on and on. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I'm rehashing the same stuff. I know we've talked about all this."

"Hey, it's okay. There's a difference now though. In the past, you talked about this with a sense of regret and sadness. Now, you talk about it with hope. I hear it in your voice and see it on your face."

Cuddy laughed out loud. "Thing is, I never realized in those moments what he was doing or why or what it meant to me. I just didn't."

"But you see it now and that's what matters."

"Yeah. Now I want to be sure he knows how much I appreciate him. He deserves to know that his actions do matter to me. That he tried...that night Sharon...the night he gave up two years of sobriety to be with me when I was scared to death. We needed to be there for each other. I wish I could've seen it more clearly then. "

"I know," Sharon replied. "House would mock me for saying this but...everything happens for reason. Everything. You don't know what might've happened had you remained together back then. It took some serious life changing circumstances to bring you both to this point. You have both grown so much and you may not have had that chance if everything that happened hadn't happened."

"You're right," Cuddy conceded.

"Exactly," Sharon replied firmly.

"No, I don't mean just about that," she said with a chuckle. "House would definitely mock you for saying that."

Wilson parked his car in front of Kelly's Antiques and Rare Coins in Trenton. It was located in an old colonial brick building in the historic district.

"Where did you find this place?" Wilson asked, admiring the old facade.

"A friend of a friend."

"You have no friends."

"Now that's just mean," he said. "A few years ago, I was working the clinic. An old couple came in, the woman complained about abdominal pain. Her primary died a few months earlier and she didn't trust doctors but her husband made her go to the clinic. Turned out she had peritonitis caused by diverticulitis. I sent her for tests and in a few hours she was in surgery. Just in time too. They sent me a card months later thanking me. It came from this place. Surprisingly I actually kept it. She and her husband own this place and the building, including the pub on the other side. This building has been in the family for nearly two hundred years. Just keeps getting passed down through relatives."

"Seriously?" Wilson asked, astonished.

"Yep."

"Wow."

"See that up there?" House pointed up. "The guy and his wife live up there."

They walked into the two-story, quaint historic colonial brick building. House hit the bell on the counter and a pleasant looking old man approached them. He wore glasses on a chain around his neck and sported a very worn but comfortable looking cable-knit sweater. He smiled at them.

"Hello, gentlemen, how can I help you?" He asked as he approached the counter. Looking more closely at House, he smiled. "Dr. House," he said happily. "It's good to see you again." He leaned his own cane against the counter and held out his right hand to House, who accepted and returned the smile. Wilson stood there in wonder as House rarely shook hands with anyone.

"Good to see you too Mr. Kelly. This is my friend and colleague James Wilson."

Wilson and the man shook hands and he introduced himself. "John Kelly, but you can both call me Jack."

"Nice to meet you," Wilson said.

"Did you bring them?"

"Oh yeah." House nudged Wilson to put the small box he carried on the counter. He opened it carefully so the man could inspect the coins.

Jack looked up at Wilson. "Dr. House saved my Estelle's life." Wilson smiled knowingly.

"Oh, these are very nice." He put his glasses on and peered more closely one of the coins. "Now according to the American Numismatic Association, this 1943 copper-alloy cent is one of the most idealized and potentially one of the most sought-after items in American numismatics. Nearly all circulating pennies at that time were struck in zinc-coated steel because copper and nickel were needed for the Allied war effort," he said, never taking his eyes off the coin. Wilson and House watched and listened as he gave them a history lesson.

"This is in near mint condition." He looked up at House. "It's nearly flawless and the markings are genuine. Did you know there's only forty of these known to be still floating around?" House looked at Wilson, who just shrugged. "Experts speculate they were struck by accident when copper-alloy one-cent blanks remained in the hopper when production began on the new steel pennies."

He took his glasses off and reached inside a drawer and pulled out what looked to be a magnet. He placed it over the penny and nothing happened. He pursed his lips together and nodded his head in approval. It was the result he had hoped for. It was so quiet they could've heard a pin drop, then Jack spoke again. "The first of these that sold collected some forty-thousand dollars and that was back in fifty-eight."

House and Wilson looked at each other again, speechless.

"You said these belonged to your father, correct?"

House nodded. "He acquired some but the rest were passed down to him."

Jack inspected a few more than took off his glasses. "Excuse me a moment." They watched Jack as he moved from behind the counter and walked to the front door and locked it, then pulled the blinds down. He returned to the counter and noticed House leaning against the counter, likely in an attempt to ease his pain. He smiled warmly at them and said, "Come back here with me. We'll have a seat and take a better look at these, okay?"

The men followed him into his office. It was very rustic and quaint, with a rocking chair in one corner, an old wooden desk and a chair across from it. House took a seat and let out an audible sigh of relief which did not go unnoticed by Jack.

"Please have a seat." He said to Wilson, nodding towards the rocker. "My wife comes in here from time to time and knits while I work. Keeps me company."

He sat at his desk and opened the box again. "Okay now let's take a look." He pulled out another coin. "Oh my," he said upon closer scrutiny. "Now this 1926 S Buffalo head nickel is amazing." He moved the lamp on his desk a little lower and took out a magnifying glass. "Look here," he said to House as he showed it to him. "It shows absolutely no signs of wear. Normally coins in circulation show some signs of wear. This is pristine. Very unique. All the markings are genuine too." He looked up at House. "Your father took very good care of this."

"He was a Marine," House replied. Jack nodded knowingly.

Jack continued going through the coins, rattling off the histories of each. He remarked more than once that John House obviously knew what he was doing in preserving, first by not cleaning the coins, which reduces their value and next, by wrapping them to keep them from getting nicked and scratched.

After awhile, he settled upon the last few coins which included the 1893 Morgan Silver Dollar and the 1921 Silver Walking Liberty Half dollar. Then his breath hitched with the last one.

"Oh now this is something I have not been able to get my hands on. Do you know what this is?" He held it up for House to see.

"A penny," House said clueless.

The man laughed. "Oh it's a penny but it's more than that son. This...is a 1969-S Lincoln Cent with doubled die obverse. Upon casual glance it looks like the standard penny but there's a clear doubling of the obverse or as you know it, the head side." He smiled as he spoke, clearly excited over the find. "The Secret Service confiscated them thinking they were fake until the Mint admitted they were genuine. There are counterfeits around but distinguished because they have the wrong mint mark. Look here at the doubling, now the mint mark is different on both sides, its not the same. This my boy is a rare breed indeed."

"So, what do you think?" House asked.

Jack leaned back in his chair. "Well, I am pleased to see a private collection like this in such fine shape. For that you can be thankful because it adds to their value." He made some notations on a sheet and continued. "Now these..." he pointed to the first group are the least value here. Some are worn but most have value due to their rarity."

He pointed to another set. "These are in very good condition and worth much more but these...here we have your big ones, the more rare and precious coins." He picked one up and held it up to the light. "This Morgan sold fifteen years ago for eight thousand but now it could go for about ten, the Liberty Half dollar at about nine..." Jack rattled off the values of the remaining coins.

"The creme of this crop though are the Lincoln and the Copper Wheat, which combined are worth about a hundred thirty-five thousand."

Wilson gasped.

"So what's your final offer?" House asked, anxiously.

"Well son, you've got a lot of coins here." He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'll give you two hundred even for the whole lot." He peered up at House with piercing blue eyes, to gauge his reaction.

House maintained his composure and looked at him. "Online they were worth closer to four."

He laughed softly and not at all in a condescending manner. "Son, I've been in the business of appraising nearly most of my life. There are two things to take into consideration here. First, the internet is just a guide and generally values online will be off either high or low, usually high and second, I still have to sell these too. Mind you, they'll sell but I will need to make a profit as well."

House looked over at Wilson, who nodded favorably.

Jack looked over at Wilson. "Your friend here, he's a good egg. My wife and I had the same doctor for forty years. Doc Turner always took good care of us and our kids, even our grandkids. Doc had told her that the diverticulitis could cause problems but after he died she wouldn't see anyone else. We were over in Princeton visiting our grandkids one day when the pain got worse. It's a good thing your friend was there. He talked my wife into getting more tests. I really appreciated him talking sense into her as she can be a bit stubborn at times. He was a bit rough on her and I wasn't so sure about him but he convinced her and that's what mattered. When my wife was recovering, that nice lady who ran the hospital came to see us. She smiled that pretty smile at me and assured me that while Dr. House here was a bit gruff, he saved lives. She had a look of pride in her eyes when she said that. I was willing to forgive his crappy bedside manner considering he saved her life."

Wilson grinned while House looked down and tapped his cane against the old hardwood floor.

"Yeah he's a bit gruff but we like him." Wilson saw House look up at him and roll his eyes.

"Okay, it's a deal," House said. Jack put out his hand and they shook on the deal.

"Alright," Jack said with a smile. "We just need to do some paperwork and a transfer of funds."

An hour later, the paperwork and wire transfer of two hundred thousand dollars to House's bank account were complete. While Jack put the coins in his safe, House stepped back into the front parlor to peruse the collection of antique canes. As he did, two items in a small glass case nearly hidden on the counter caught his eye.

"You like?" The old man asked, approaching him from behind.

"Yeah." House replied, softly. He was drawn to the beauty of the pair of matching silver necklaces with identical cameos depicting a mother holding a little girl in her arms. They were exquisitely carved, delicate and beautiful.

"That's hand-carved mother-of-pearl," he said. "These belonged to a dear friend of mine, Walt Winters. A nicer man you'd never meet. I think he died from a broken heart."

House scoffed. "Nobody dies of a broken heart."

"He did. His wife Dorothy, we all called her Dottie, died last year. After she died, he lost that spark he'd always had. He wasn't himself. The only thing he did every day was visit her grave for hours at a time, talking to her, then he'd come by here, have tea with my wife and me, stay awhile, then go home. A month after she died, so did he. Just died sitting there in his chair looking out the window of their old apartment. They were born and raised here, married seventy five years when she died. Walt used to love telling the story about how the first time he laid eyes on her, he knew she was the one for him. They were just teenagers back then. Whenever he'd tell that story, she'd laugh and smack him gently but there was a glint in her eye when he was around. Same for him."

"No kids?"

He sighed. "A daughter. Rosemarie, named after Walt's mother. They called her Rosie. She was a beautiful, delightful little girl."

"Was?"

"She died of the flu back in the thirties. She was only seven years old," he said softly. "Walt had these made for Dottie and Rosie when she was born. Rosie had apparently worn hers every day but the day she died, they discovered it missing. Walt said Dottie went crazy trying to find it so she could bury her in it. She found it a year later, apparently it had fallen behind the little girl's bed."

House swallowed. He had not been prepared for such a sad story. He looked up at Wilson who had noticeable tears in his eyes.

"Walt and Dottie loved that little girl and it nearly destroyed them when she died. But apparently they were strong enough to overcome it."

"Did they have more children?" Wilson asked.

"No. I guess they couldn't. Dottie had miscarried I believe before and after Rosie came along. There were none after," he said sadly. He couldn't help but notice the sadness that fell over House's face at that news. "Son, would you like to see them?"

He nodded and Jack opened the case and pulled them out carefully, handing them to House.

"House, these are beautiful." Wilson remarked, standing next to him.

"How much?" He knew when he first laid eyes on them, he wanted them for Cuddy and Rachel.

As if Jack could read his mind, he said, "You must have someone special of your own."

"Yeah, I do." He looked up. "Remember that nice lady in charge of the hospital?"

Jack's eyes widened. "Ahh...it would explain why her eyes lit up when she spoke of you."

House smirked. "They always does that when I piss her off."

"Obviously it's more than that. You have something very special."

House nodded. "Took me a long time to figure it out." House fingered the cameos.

"I take it you have a child?"

"Yeah. She's a good kid." House sighed and looked up at the old man. "How much for them both?"

"Nothing," Jack replied firmly.

His response caught House off guard. "They're not for sale?" He asked, clearly confused.

"Not anymore." He put his hand on House's arm. "I'd like you to have them."House looked at him stunned. Even Wilson's eyes got wide.

"What?"

"They've been here since he died, no one has taken an interest in them but I knew eventually the right person would come along. Dr. House, we were very scared when my wife fell ill. You helped us. When I told you the story about Walt and his family, I could see it in your eyes...it's like you felt his pain, like you understood." He gestured for House to hand him the cameos, which he did. Then Jack carefully wrapped them in tissue paper and placed them in a box and handed them back to him.

"I'm ninety years old, I may have a day left, maybe a few months or maybe another ten years, who knows? What I do know is that there are things far more important to us than money."

House stood there listening, still surprised over the amazing gift.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. Give these to that lovely young lady and her little girl. I'm sure Walt and Dottie would approve."

House nodded and put out his hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, son." He took a deep breath and gave them a soft smile. "Now if you two young men don't mind...my Estelle makes tea and lunch around this time every day. Been the same routine for fifty years and she hates for me to be late."

Later that night, Cuddy laid on the couch in the living room wearing an old pair of sweatpants and even older and much worn Michigan tee shirt. It had been a long day which she had enjoyed with her friend and the girls and she was looking forward to some time alone to clear her head and relax. She sipped her chai tea and tried to read her book but had a hard time concentrating because all she could think about was House. She put the book down and snuggled up under the knitted throw, listening to the crackling of the fire. She recalled in her mind a time when in their past relationship, he'd started spending most nights at her house and she would often wait up for him on the couch when he had to work late. Sometimes she'd fall asleep there and she'd wake to him sitting on the coffee table in front of her, gently running her fingers up and down his arm. She remembered how happy it made her feel that he'd show up at her house rater than going back to his apartment. Suddenly the phone rang and she nearly jumped, then grinned with anticipation at who she knew would be on the other end.

"Hello?" She answered in that smokey, seductive voice.

"What are you wearing?" He asked in an equally deep and seductive tone as he lay relaxed on his couch, a pillow under his right leg for support.

"Wait," she chuckled. "We don't talk for twenty-four hours and that's the first thing you have to say?"

"Priorities, woman. Now what are you wearing?"

"Fine," she sighed. She was just happy to hear his voice. "Socks, sweatpants and an old Michigan shirt."

"Waxing nostalgic are we?"

"Something like that," she truth was that the old worn Michigan shirt was his and wearing it made her feel close to him.

"Braless?"

"Completely."

"You little minx," he teased.

"I miss you House," she said, not trying t hide the longing in her voice.

"I miss you too." He picked up one of the cameo necklaces and caressed the delicate features gently as he talked to her. He had looked forward to hearing her voice all day.

"So, did you talk to Nancy today?" She asked.

"I did. I guess I don't have to tell you about the offer."

"Are you going to take it?"

"How can I turn it down?"

"Well...it's your decision but it's such a great opportunity. There's just one thing," she said hesitantly.

"Shoot."

"Do you think you can handle working for her? I mean she's really a great Chief of Medicine and I think she'd be fair but you like to argue and fight, you have issues with authority."

"Actually the only person like arguing with is you. With anyone else, it's just boring."

Cuddy couldn't help but smile. "So you could make it work with her?"

"Why not? I work with Stevens now, he's not that bad."

"We both know how much you like to push boundaries," she warned.

"I don't do it for the hell of it, just when I want to save my patients. I guess I'll have to figure out how to make it work."

"Wow, I like this new and improved you." She laughed.

"Don't get used to it. I'm still an ass," he said.

"I wouldn't love you if you weren't," she replied. "She's giving you complete hiring authority. Have you thought about what you might do with that?"

"Yep, I'm hiring an assistant to do all my grunt work. Then I'm hiring Chase."

"Chase?" Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Yep. I need him, he's part of my process. Besides, with no team left here, what's he going to do? Waste his House-given talents running the ICU?"

Cuddy stifled her laughter at his comment while he continued.

"He's going to be my team at least in the beginning until we get one together. He can do the hiring, some teaching, write some papers..."

"And what will you do?" She interrupted.

"I will reign with an iron fist over my kingdom." He heard her laughing out loud and it made him smile. God, he had missed that. He got serious for a moment. "I'll need him to be there when I can't. After I'll I'm not moving there to spend every waking hour at the hospital."

Cuddy's heart warmed at his words. "I know," she said quietly.

"Chase doesn't know and I didn't tell Wilson yet. I wanted to get your input first."

Cuddy beamed hearing he'd wanted her opinion first.

"I think it's an excellent idea. You'll need someone with you who understands your process, is good with the patients and understands how things work. Chase has really grown over the years and you really trust him. Remember when you didn't?" She recalled a time years back when House was apprehensive about trusting Chase.

"Yeah, he was young and naive back then. He grew up."

"That he did," she said. "Sometimes I think about them...Foreman, Chase, and Cameron,...they were your first team and they were just kids back then. They've come so far."

"Yeah sometimes I had my doubts but they did it."

"You pushed them, treated them like crap at times. You did it because you wanted them to be strong."

"Ya think?" He mused.

"I know how you work."

He smiled to himself. Yes, you certainly do, he thought to himself. He decided to change the topic because he really just wanted to talk about her. He wanted to her everything about her day. "So, what did you do today?"

She relaxed back into the throw pillows on the couch. "It snowed outside so we stayed in. Sharon came over and we did some cleaning and organizing while the girl played together. You wouldn't believe how much stuff I cleared out of the office alone."

"Spring cleaning in winter?"

"Something like that. I was making room."

"Any particular reason?" He asked, feigning ignorance.

"Oh, maybe," she replied flirtatiously. "There's this handsome, sexy doctor moving in with me and I'm making room for his big...cane."

House grinned at her choice of words. He was also touched by her actions. She was making room for him in her home and soon it would be their home. Even though the change scared him a little, it warmed his heart that she and Rachel wanted him to be a part of their family.

"House? You there?"

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of her voice. "Yeah, sorry. Just thinking."

"About?"

"How much I miss your ginormous ass," he mused. He heard her laugh and it hit him directly in his gut, just how much he missed her.