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Friday 1st of June, 2007 - late afternoon
i am: hanging out in the kitchen
whatstheddx wrote in cuddys_house
"No offence," Wilson said, reaching for another fry from his plate, "but it's probably a combination of not just Cuddy being tired but I wouldn't be surprised if she's also seeing a little too much of you. Cabin House fever. You know how your charming presence rubs off on people."

Seated on the other side of the formica table in the cafe he and Wilson had decided to dine at for the night - one of their 'boys nights out' - House eyed Wilson while clutching his burger between his hands. Sauce dripped onto his plate, along with a couple of stray strands of shredded lettuce. He was unimpressed by Wilson's assessment, having confided in him over dinner what was going on between Cuddy and himself, but he also knew Wilson probably had a point. In fact, the thought that he and Cuddy were seeing too much of each other had already crossed his mind. Fatigue would only exacerbate that, too. It had been a few days since their somewhat horrendous day at home where Cuddy had lost the plot and he'd lost the plot even further.

He glanced down at the burger, then hunched over to take a large bite. "So, what are you suggesting?" he asked, his left cheek bulging out as he chewed. "I back off for a while? Pay only arranged visits to see Emma?"

Wilson was dabbing and dragging a small bunch of fries through a blob of ketchup he'd squirted on the edge of his plate. He shook his head. "Why do you always jump to the most extreme and ridiculous conclusion?"

"'Cabin House fever' doesn't exactly paint a quaint picture."

Wilson wiped his mouth with his napkin. "I was making a point."

"That point being?"

"That Cuddy needs a break. From you, from Emma. And she tired. Meaning, you should do something for her."

House thought about that for a moment. With nothing coming to mind, he asked, "Like what?"

Wilson gave a show of hands. "She's your girlfriend. You come up with something." He gave a quiet, exasperated sigh when House leaned in with a direct and prompting look on his face. "I don't know. Hire a babysitter. Take Cuddy out somewhere, somewhere she enjoys."

"As if Cuddy would leave Emma alone with a babysitter," House retorted.

Wilson couldn't deny House was wrong there. He shrugged. "You look after Emma, then. Let Cuddy go out for a day."

"She probably wouldn't want to do that, either. The kid is always permanently attached to some part of Cuddy's anatomy."

"Fine. Arrange something for Cuddy, so she has to go out. But make it something good, something special. Something she'd get something out of. Maybe as a token of appreciation for her on your part, as well."


"Like... something relaxing for her. A day spa, perhaps. A massage. A place where they do the whole pampering thing. You'd be giving her the best of both worlds then - relaxation and time away from you."

House turned his gaze away thoughtfully. That actually wasn't a bad idea, and one he hadn't even considered until right now. Cuddy had complained quite a few times of feeling bloated, fat, aching, a whole bunch of adjectives that he didn't agree with but there was no arguing a woman into common sense when she was convinced she looked as bad as she claimed she did. Setting his burger down, he reached across the table to snatch a few of Wilson's fries. "Every once in a while, you solve all my problems."

"Glad I could be of help. You have your own fries, by the way," Wilson replied impatiently.

House just shrugged and, feeling more relaxed now he had an idea in mind, smirked triumphantly as he popped the fries in his mouth.

* * *

It was heading for late afternoon when House pulled into Cuddy's driveway. He'd headed out earlier in the day to grab some groceries while Emma was down for a sleep, also to grab a few things from his apartment. He'd also done a bit of research into the local day spas around Princeton and came up trumps with a place that he was certain Cuddy would like.

The only thing that had had him hesitating was the number of packages and what the hell Cuddy would like most. Eventually, he'd settled on a gift certificate after the woman behind the desk had talked him through the different things the spa had to offer. It was an "essentials" package, which came with a facial, a Swedish massage, lunch, manicure and pedicure, and hair treatment - a full day at the spa and fully paid for once he handed over his credit card.

The gift certificate was tucked away in his jeans pocket while he carted the groceries into the kitchen and brought in a backpack of stuff from his apartment. Emma was awake; after giving her belly a rub and tickling her chin while she lay on the floor, happy and kicking, he went back to the kitchen to help Cuddy put the groceries away. "She sleep long?" he asked, gesturing for Cuddy to pass over a few items so he could put them away in the pantry.

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Orgasm did seem to have improved House's performance as a pillow. He was quiet and relaxed and it was easy for Cuddy to relax with her head resting on his shoulder.

She closed her eyes, lulled by the sound of his slow, even breathing. As always she had a million things rattling around her brain. Most of those things were small--the routine stuff of day to day life. She also thought about how she and House were doing, though. She was fully aware they'd come close to another full-blown argument, and over something not all that important. It made her aware that they still had a long way to go.

She was grateful he was getting treatment. Without the therapy and the meds, she was afraid to think of where they'd be. She was pretty sure they wouldn't be together, not as a family. She believed he'd still be trying to do the right thing, that he'd be trying to be a father to Emma, but she wasn't sure he would've been able to handle it psychologically.

Even with treatment, his moods were erratic, changing without warning. She wasn't much better either. Fatigue and hormones did not make for a rational woman. Still, they were together as a family. They were slowly finding their way, not always successfully but they were working at it.

After a few moments, she surrendered to sleep. And what seemed like only a few moments after that, she was awoken by Emma's demands to be fed coming through the baby monitor. She sighed, reluctant to move when she was snuggled up with House, but a short nap was better than nothing. She pushed herself up and leaned over to kiss him on the forehead.

"Wake up, lazy," she murmured. She gave his shoulder a little shake for good measure, then scooted off the bed. "See if you scrounge up something for supper while I feed Emma, okay?"

She rubbed her eyes as she walked to Emma's room, clucking her tongue as she entered the room. "Yes, yes, we hear you," she said quietly as she scooped Emma up from the crib. "Did you really think we'd forget you?" Emma simply sucked at her fingers, wide-eyed and eager to get down to business. Cuddy let out an amused snort as she carried her to the rocking chair and settled down to nurse her.

"Hmmn," House grunted at being shaken awake. His eyes opened sleepily for all of a second before drooping shut again. He so wasn't ready to get up. He'd be ready to get up in... probably another eight hours or more. He heard Cuddy say something about supper, too groggy to piece together her words. Something about scrounging and supper and Emma.

Without really being aware of it, he rolled over onto his side and sank straight back into a doze the moment he was comfortable. His breathing immediately evened out, punctuated with a slight snore at the end of each inhale.

Images of Emma and other fragmented, distorted scenes of the day flashed through his mind in dream sequences. His body jerked with small twitches every now and then until he suddenly jolted awake at the sound of a sharp, wailing noise. It took him a moment to realise it was Emma being fussy, perhaps having her diaper changed or being burped - Cuddy said she was feeding her, right? He couldn't quite remember - and he just knew Cuddy had asked him to do something but he couldn't recall what that was.

He'd rolled onto his back and looked over at the baby monitor, trying to jog his memory. Something about... slippers? Something about...? His head was too fuzzy with sleep. He grunted, rolling onto his other side. "Fuck it," he muttered to himself, cuddling up to the pillow. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been that important.

He easily slipped back into a doze again, mouth slack and once more snoring at the end of each inhale. His shirt had twisted up around his stomach, the plackets of his jeans were wide open from the handjob Cuddy had given him, and his limp penis was peeking out from the fly of his boxers.

By the time she finished nursing, Emma had filled both her stomach and her diaper. Cuddy made a quiet tsking noise as she got her breasts back under cover and carried Emma to the changing table.

"That's a tad disgusting, you know?" she said as she unfastened the soiled diaper and efficiently wiped Emma's bottom. Emma screwed her face up into something resembling a frown. She didn't like having a wet or dirty diaper but she wasn't crazy about having her butt bared and wiped either. She didn't have time to work up much of a protest, though, because Cuddy had her securely wrapped in a clean diaper in no time.

"I mean, I realize everyone poops but they don't usually do it while they're eating." Cuddy picked Emma up and held her at eye level in front of her own face. Emma, of course, could not have cared less about the etiquette of poop. She acted purely on biological need and now that she'd taken care of all of her biggest needs--sleep, food, and poop--she was happy.

Cuddy set her in the crib for a few moments so she could go take care of some of her own needs. After she finished up in the bathroom, she returned to the nursery and gathered Emma up.

She had noticed the house being suspiciously quiet which meant House was being suspiciously quiet. Suspicious, that was, because he was supposed to be making supper and he normally wasn't quiet about that. She wasn't terribly surprised when she carried Emma to the bedroom and saw House sound asleep...and half dressed.

"Men," Cuddy muttered. Emma gurgled and Cuddy took that as agreement. She leaned over and shook House's shoulder. "Rise and shine."

House had been having a nice sleep. When he was groggy, nothing felt better than succumbing to sleep. That was only if he was left to sleep peacefully. Being rudely awoken wasn't at all conducive to relaxing and at the first shake to his shoulder he jerked awake and snapped his sleepy-looking, slightly red eyes up at Cuddy with bewilderment bordering on immediate irritability from the surprise he received from being shaken.

It took him a couple of seconds to come to his senses enough to work out what was going on. Emma was in Cuddy's arm, happy and probably fed. He remembered being woken before but still couldn't recall what Cuddy had said to him. He groaned in mild protest and rolled onto his back, scrubbing his hands over his face. At the same time, he noticed his shirt felt tight and twisted around his middle. Pulling his hands from his face, he lifted his head from the pillow and looked down, spying not only the way his shirt was rucked up and tangled around his mid-section, but also his penis hanging slack out of his pants.

"Oops," he said, lifting his hips up. He quickly tucked himself in and tugged his jeans up. Once his fly was zipped, he rearranged his shirt while scooting back until he was sitting up against the headboard. Again he scrubbed his face with his hands and tried to blink away the heavy hanging grogginess, but then lifted his hands towards Emma and motioned for Cuddy to hand her over.

"Come here, kiddo," he said to Emma and once she was in his hands, he plopped her on his lap, facing him. He peered down at her with a sleepy, almost cranky-looking expression, though he wasn't cranky at all, just groggy as hell. Emma stared back up at him with that perpetually curious expression of hers.

"You look way happier to be awake than I feel," he grumbled at her.

Cuddy took the precaution of stepping back one step after she shook House. She could never be sure how he'd react but he usually didn't like being woken. It was like dragging a hibernating bear from his den--he could be really, really cranky.

She watched him as his brain slowly sorted out where he was and what he was doing, gently swaying Emma in her arms. One little hand had clutched onto Cuddy's shirt but Emma's eyes were roaming aimlessly.... Well, it seemed aimless to Cuddy but for all she knew, Emma was deliberately taking in as much information about her surroundings as she could. Fortunately, she was incapable of seeing House tuck himself away and zip up his jeans. Emma would never have remembered seeing it, of course, but still, Cuddy thought she was a bit young to start understanding with gender differences. There'd be plenty of time to get confused by that later.

"Pretty much everyone looks happier to be awake than you do," Cuddy said after handing Emma to him. He didn't look unhappy to her, just groggy. Emma definitely looked happier and more alert than he did, though. Cuddy herself was...she wasn't too bad. She always felt tired but the short nap had actually juiced up her batteries a smidge. She knew she probably looked worn down but she felt reasonably good. Good enough to be aware of how hungry she was and to do something about it.

"Since someone decided to extend his siesta instead of slaving over a hot stove...." She wasn't angry at him for falling back asleep. Heaven knew there'd been plenty of times she'd wanted to do the same thing. It would've been nice to have a freshly made meal waiting for her but at that moment, all she really cared about was getting something in her stomach and she wasn't going to fuss over who made it.

"Keep an eye on her and I'll go defrost something for supper."

Oh, so that was what Cuddy had told him when she'd first woken him - she'd wanted him to make supper. He pursed his lips in a manner as though to say, "oops". But seeing Cuddy didn't seem annoyed beyond mildly chiding him, he decided to let it drop the way she was and just gave a slightly sheepish shrug.

"Your fault for telling me while I was half-asleep," he replied, though he looked over at her while bouncing Emma lightly on his lap, to silently say that he'd look after the baby. He considered interrupting and telling Cuddy he'd deal with supper. Being she didn't seem too unhappy about making supper herself, however, he let her go. Perhaps she wanted a break from Emma, which was fine with him.

He turned back to the baby when Cuddy had left the room. He enjoyed having Emma with him and he allowed himself a small smile as she gurgled with bored look on her face. He pulled her up to a 'standing' position, her feet resting on his legs, and the shift in position seemed to have piqued her interest. She now looked a little perplexed by the unusual stimulation of being held like this.

"Sorry to have disturbed you," he said to her. "You just seemed a little bored of sitting there with nothing to do." He watched the way her little legs kicked and squirmed, drawing up towards her body protectively every now and again. He brought Emma closer to him until he was almost nose to nose, something else which startled her and made her eyes go wide with intrigue or confusion.

He held her like that for a moment, staring into her eyes, then leaned that bit closer and ripped the tip of his nose against hers. When he pulled her back, he sat her on his lap again. For a little while, he simply studied her, occasionally rubbing his thumb across her temple and the side of her head and sometimes giving her chest a rub while supporting her with his other hand.

Soon, though, she began to get a little restless. He spread his legs and settled her on the mattress between them to let her kick and stretch to her heart's content. "Getting bored?" he asked. He pressed his fingers into her palms, which she grasped tightly onto, and he slowly pulled her into a sitting position before letting her lie back down. Then he extracted his fingers from her grasp and took hold of both her feet.

He leaned over to look at her. "How about a nursery rhyme?" he asked her. "Mom taught you any of those yet? Yeah, didn't think so." He playfully tugged at her feet. "I can teach you some. Let me see..." He thought for a moment, then looked back down to Emma and with an animated voice and face, he said, "Mary had a little lamb, her father shot it dead. Now it goes to school with her between two chunks of bread."

"Yeah, 'oops'," Cuddy said dryly when House mouthed the word. At another time she might've been irritated with him for falling asleep on the job but he'd actually been pretty dependable lately. He'd been taking care of one of Emma's nighttime feedings among other things. So she was willing to cut him a little slack this time. She wouldn't make any promises about the next time, though.

She ignored him when he tried to pin the blame on her, even though it was true she should know better than to talk to him when he wasn't fully awake. The truth didn't matter, though--he would've tried to shift the blame to her no matter what the circumstances. So she did what she usually did and ignored his attempts.

She left him to tend to Emma and headed into the kitchen. For a moment she simply stood in the middle of the room and thought. She was hungry but she simply didn't have the motivation to do any real cooking. She looked through some of the dishes she'd cooked and frozen before Emma's birth and settled on a casserole with brown rice, mushrooms and sausage.

While the casserole heated up in the microwave, she got out the plates and silverware and glasses. In less than fifteen minutes she had drinks poured and plates of hot casserole set on the coffee table in the living room. Some day she'd like to eat in the dining room again--since that was sort of its purpose--but for now it was much easier to keep an eye on Emma in the living room. There she could lie on the floor and kick or watch her toys while Cuddy and House ate.

She headed back into the bedroom to tell House dinner was ready, walking in just as he finished his version of a nursery rhyme. "Don't you think it's a bit soon to twisting her psyche with that kind of thing?" Cuddy gave him a look of mild warning but Emma, of course, was fascinated by House's voice. That's all she cared about, and likely even when she did get old enough to understand the words, she'd still be fascinated. Kids did tend to like the gross and morbid. She couldn't imagine House's child being any different.

"Supper's ready," she said. She leaned down and blew a soft raspberry on Emma's stomach. "Not for you, though. You've already had yours."

House looked over at the door as Cuddy entered. "Not twisting. Encouraging." He turned back to Emma and leaned in closer to her with a mischievous little smirk on his lips, as though sharing a conspiring secret with her. "You're Daddy's little girl, aren't you? Means you're gonna be just like Daddy."

Hopefully not exactly like him. The last thing he wanted was for his daughter to end up with the kind of life he'd ended up with - troubled, miserable, lonely. He didn't even want to be like himself, let alone Emma ending up like him. He wanted her to be her own person, whatever that was going to end up being. But he also couldn't help hoping she'd end up with a somewhat twisted sense of humour, like his. And Cuddy's - she wasn't without her own offbeat humour herself.

He sat back, resting his head against the headboard just before Cuddy informed him of supper and leaned over to blow a raspberry on Emma's belly. Emma reacted with a reflexive squirm, her arms jerking outwards. At the same time, she let out a whoop.

"Mo-om," House interpreted for her. He threw Cuddy a mock annoyed look, too. "That's so embarrassing." He glanced down at Emma, adding, "I know. Mothers are like the humiliators from hell." He almost added that his mother could be incredibly embarrassing - but the moment the thought entered his head, so did the reminder that his mom didn't know about Emma.

He faltered for a second, then quickly swept the thought and any feeling of guilt it had dredged up aside, and he was swift to scoop Emma up. "Come on, then." He started scooting to the edge of the bed, propping the baby up against his shoulder and he held her there with one hand secure on her back. He used his other free hand to help himself get off the mattress.

"You heard Mom," he continued. "Supper time. You may not be hungry, but I'm famished."

"Yes," Cuddy said dryly. "That's exactly what mothers are for--humiliating their children."

She knew from personal experience that was exactly what it could feel like to a child. She knew there'd been plenty of times when she'd wanted to absolutely disappear rather than continue to be embarrassed by something her mother or father did or said. She'd always sworn she'd never do that to her own children but now that she was a mom, she could foresee that she might just humiliate her own kid as she'd been humiliated by her parents. Not on purpose, and that's what she understood now. Parents were only acting in what they believed was the best interest of their children. Kids simply had a slightly different perspective.

She followed House into the living room and then reached for Emma. She settled the baby in her bouncy seat and made sure she had some toys to attract her attention. Emma waved her arms, perfectly happy for the moment to play by herself. She'd even forgotten the 'humiliation' of having a raspberry blown on her stomach.

Cuddy placed a quick kiss on Emma's forehead, then retreated to the couch. She picked up her plate and dug in. She was every bit as famished as House had claimed he was. It had been almost a year since she'd eaten 'normally' and she wondered how difficult it would be to adjust back to her usual diet once she'd finished breast feeding.

"I've really got to get back into some kind of exercise routine," she said quietly, speaking more to herself than to House.

As House neared the living room, the scent of food hit his nose and his stomach responded with a gurgling growl. He was glad to hand Emma over to Cuddy, eager to tuck into his meal. And that was what he did the moment his ass was planted on the couch. The first few mouthfuls he shovelled in but by the time Cuddy had taken her seat to start eating, he put his plate back onto the coffee table to get up and go fetch a drink from the kitchen.

He glanced over at Cuddy's quiet remark, thought about it for a moment while eyeing her and gave a slight nod. She wasn't fat by any means and she wouldn't be a great deal out of shape, either - he knew she'd exercised throughout her pregnancy. But getting into an exercise routine would be good for her. "Sounds like a good idea to me," he replied.

He stood and headed out to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the tap and drained the glass there on the spot, thirsty. Then he refilled it and he grabbed another glass and filled that one up, too. He returned to the living room, putting the second glass down in front of Cuddy.

"Exercise'll do you good," he continued as he resumed his seat. "It'll help with decluttering your head, and get those serotonin and dopamine neurotransmitters pumping back into action."

Cuddy turned a suspicious look on him when he agreed she should start exercising. She knew she needed to but she wasn't sure what he meant by agreeing. Exercise always made her feel good. It made her feel energized and more able to deal with the daily stresses of life. It just made her feel 'right' somehow and she never felt as good when she didn't exercise. She always felt sluggish and she hated that feeling.

However, there was also the fact her body needed a boost. She'd exercised throughout her pregnancy and watched her weight gain but there was no getting around the fact her muscles had lost some tone and she was carrying some extra weight. If that was the reason he wanted her to exercise, well, he was right but she'd be insulted.

Emma let out a strange sound as he left the room, distracting Cuddy for the moment. She glanced over and saw that Emma had managed, purely by accident, to grab onto one of her toys. She seemed baffled. She didn't know what to do with the toy or even how to do anything with it. She jerked her arm and the toy jingled, provoking another surprised sound from her.

"Silly girl," Cuddy murmured, smiling. She glanced up as House returned and reached for the glass. She took a drink, then tilted her head at him as she sat the glass back down.

"So you think my head is cluttered?" She shrugged it off. She would be mentally sharper if she got some regular exercise back in her life. She'd tried to work in some yoga but she often found herself getting interrupted or simply feeling too tired to do a real workout. She needed to buckle down and set some goals for herself.

"I need to set a time every day to do it," she admitted. "There's no reason I can't fit in a workout, even if it's only twenty minutes."

"You know your head is cluttered," he countered, sipping his water. He put the glass on the coffee table and drew his plate to his lap. He sat back and speared his fork into a piece of vegetable.

He didn't need to add any more to his claim because he knew he was right - her head was cluttered, she was sometimes foggy with details, she was basically no different to any other new mom. But he knew her, too, and he knew that she got frustrated with not feeling like she had it all 'together'. In fact, it had already overwhelmed and completely gotten the better of her - the meltdown she'd had the other day was proof of that.

"You can make time for anything you want to make time for," he agreed. He ate a bite of food, then looked over at Cuddy. "It's not like you have to really go anywhere. The kid definitely isn't. Do yoga when she's asleep, or when she's playing on the floor, or get one of those jogging stroller things and run with her."

After eating another mouthful, he said, "Or just give her to me. You can actually rely on me to do the dad thing, you know. You don't have to be around her twenty-four-seven."

"I know that. It's not that I'm afraid to leave her with you. It's just...."

Cuddy shrugged as she forked another bite of casserole to her mouth. In truth, part of it was sheer laziness. She was tired and when she wasn't caring for Emma, she taking care of chores around the house, and when she wasn't doing chores, she didn't feel like doing anything. Many days she just wanted to sit or even sleep whenever she had fifteen minutes to herself.

Part of it, too, was that she was out of her normal routine and she hadn't created a new normal. She was still adapting, working around Emma's schedule and she hadn't made a slot in her day for exercise. She knew she should. She knew she'd feel better if she did. She'd actually have more energy if she got her body back in action. It was just taking the first step and making herself do it. Once she did that, she knew the rest would fall in line.

"Monday morning," she said. "I'll start on Monday." Even if it was only fifteen minutes of yoga, it would help. And she could easily fit that in after getting up with Emma and nursing her. She'd be happy for a while and Cuddy could do some exercise before eating her own breakfast. It was simple. She just had to do it.

"Which means I get one more weekend to be fat and lazy."

"Fat," House echoed with a snort. He forked more casserole into his mouth and looked at Cuddy. "Sure you want to wait until Monday? I mean, you might explode into a behemoth before then."

He was joking, of course, and if she couldn't tell he was joking, then he wasn't even going to bother trying to reassure her that it was a joke. She was far from fat, regardless how much she claimed to the contrary at times. And of course, he liked the way she looked - he'd always liked the way she looked.

But the depth of their relationship now meant his opinion of her went much deeper than skin deep and frankly, he wouldn't have cared a great deal even if she did gain some weight or sagged in places she never used to sag. He highly doubt she'd believe him if he told her that, though, and he doubted even more that Cuddy would even allow herself to reach such a place.

Emma made a gurgling noise, which caught House's attention. He looked at her and, chewing his food, leaned over in her direction and said, "What do you think? Is Mom a behemoth?" Her eyes moved in the direction of his voice, then she looked away again, a little dazzled by the bright toy she'd managed to grasp earlier and was now lying by her head where it had fallen out of her hand.

"Fine, don't answer me, then," he replied to her. Shovelling in the last couple of mouthfuls of food, he put the plate on the coffee table with a belch, took a sip of water and then scooted across the couch closer to Cuddy. Despite that she was still eating, he lifted his arm around her shoulders and tugged her close while planting a kiss to her cheek. He was getting in her way a little and he knew it, and that was kind of the point.

"You're fine," he told her, deciding to reassure her anyway.

Cuddy threw him a disapproving look when he started calling her a behemoth but that's all she did. She knew he'd just keep poking at her as long as he thought she'd react, so she didn't. She concentrated on eating her dinner before Emma decided she wanted more attention. One thing she'd gotten fairly good at was grabbing her meals or naps while Emma was happy...because if she didn't, she didn't get to eat or sleep.

"Hey," she muttered, poking her elbow in his side when he scooted over and tried to snuggle while she was still eating. She rolled her eyes and swallowed a bite of casserole, turning her head to look at him.

"Oh, yeah--I'm fabulous," she said dryly. She was good-natured about it, though. Maybe House did think she looked fine, and that was great. She truly was glad he seemed happy to take her as she was. She needed to feel she was at her best however. Who knew--maybe after spending a morning at the spa and getting back into her exercise routine, she'd start feeling like she was getting somewhere close to fabulous.

She managed to finish her supper despite his interference. She leaned forward to put her plate on the coffee table, glancing over when Emma let out a soft whoop. She couldn't tell what had provoked Emma's reaction but the baby seemed content whatever she was doing or thinking.

She settled back on the couch, leaning against House. For a moment she was content, too, to simply sit and watch Emma while feeling him at her side. Shortly, though, she turned her head and looked up at him. "You know, I'm going to have to give my parents the all clear to visit. Either that or I'm going to have to make arrangements to take Emma to see them."

Really, House was lucky her parents hadn't just come ahead without permission. They were both getting really frustrated at not being able to see their new granddaughter. Truth was, if House wanted to make her parents hate him, keeping Emma away from them was a good way to make that happen.

"Honestly, I don't care which way we do it, but it has to be done."

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