Sometime around ten that morning, Wilson pushed the glass door open to House's private office and walked in with an aggravated look on his face.

Without saying a word, he sat down on the chair opposite House's desk and covered both his eyes with his hands.

"…Yes?" House finally asked, having kept a curious gaze on him since he walked in.

Wilson raked his hands through his hair and exhaled hard.

"She's a Bridezilla," Wilson stated flatly.

House grunted out a laugh and turned his attention back to the case file he had been reading.

"I've seen at least fifty swatches of fabric for bridesmaids dresses, eight string quartets, five flower places—" Wilson prattled on.

"Oh wait. I know this one. Does the next line have something to do with a partridge?" House asked with mock enthusiasm.

"I'm not gonna make it," Wilson said wearily.

"I thought Debbie wanted a small wedding on some Caribbean beach," House commented.

"Apparently, she's changed her mind," Wilson replied in exasperation.

House merely twitched the corner of his mouth in response. Having nothing more to say, he continued to read the file that Cuddy had given to him that morning.

"So when are you and Cuddy gonna get married?" Wilson asked.

"We're not," House stated.

Wilson's eyes widened.

"Seriously?" he asked in surprise.

"You really expect me to get married after you just told me a story like THAT?" House demanded lightly.

"Your planning on being the father of her child and you're not going to MARRY her?" Wilson shot back, still stunned.

"What does one have to do with the other?" House asked, perplexed.

Wilson blinked his eyes twice and opened his mouth, about to tell House exactly what one had to do with the other.

"What does it matter if we're married? He'd still be my kid," House stated, cutting Wilson off before he could start speaking.

"You …already know that your sperm is going to create a male offspring?" Wilson asked with a grimace.

"Yes. I'm THAT good," House replied, becoming slightly irritated by the conversation.

"How does Cuddy feel about this?" Wilson asked.

"What? That my boys are capable of gender selection on command or that we're not flocking to the altar anytime soon?" House retorted.

"The latter," Wilson stated, his patience wearing thin.

"Don't know. We haven't talked about it," House replied simply with a shrug, avoiding Wilson's interrogating stare.


At around the same time, Chase was in the NICU, reading the chart of a newborn baby girl that he had taken off the front of her bassinett.

He rubbed the chestpiece of his stethoscope in his hand to warm it before placing it gently on the chest of the tiny premature newborn, who was wearing a soft pink cotton baby cap that covered her head.

As Chase carefully listened to the baby girl's heartbeat, he wore a gentle, thoughtful smile on his face, tilting his head ever so slightly to hear the tiny rhythm. The newborn stirred slightly as he did so.

Upon hearing no abnormalities in the baby's heart, Chase took his stethoscope off his ears and draped it around his neck.

"Got room for one more?" Cuddy asked him as she entered the NICU, holding a red file folder in her hand.

Chase turned his head towards her, the same gentle smile on his face.

"Always," he replied softly to Cuddy, turning his attention back to the baby girl in front of him.

"Mom had a fever during delivery. They're sending the baby down now," Cuddy told him, handing him the patient's file.

"Big donor or celebrity, I take it?" Chase asked as he took the file from her.

"DAUGHTER of big donor," she clarified. "How'd you know?" Cuddy asked.

"Personal hand- off. Any OB resident could have given me the chart," Chase replied simply.

Cuddy mulled over what Chase had just told her as she watched him limp over to the next bassinet without his rosewood cane to examine the next newborn.

"Do you know that you remind me more of House everyday?" Cuddy asked him.

"Is that good or bad?" Chase quipped.

"Haven't decided yet," Cuddy replied with a impish smile.

Chase chuckled as he took the chart off the next bassinet, examining the information the nurse had recently written on it.

"So how's it going down here?" Cuddy asked him.

"Great. You and House coming to our painting party tomorrow?" Chase replied.

"I'll be there, but you might have to have obscene amounts of liquor and food on hand for House to come," Cuddy said with an eyeroll.

"It's already done," Chase assured her, smirking.

Cuddy laughed at this. "Let me know how Donor Daughter's Baby's doing once she gets here," she told him as she turned to leave the NICU.

But after she turned around, she felt a wave of dizziness overcome her.

Feeling as if the room was spinning around her, Cuddy held her arms out slightly to catch her balance, grabbing onto one of the tables in the NICU.

"Are you all right, Dr. Cuddy?" one of the NICU nurses asked her.

Chase looked up from the newborn he was currently examining with a concerned look on his face.

"…Yeah… I just got… dizzy… for a secondzz…," Cuddy said, trailing off listlessly as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body collapsed on the floor.


"So what does the stomach pain tell us?" House asked as he stood in front of his whiteboard in his conference room.

Foreman flipped through the chart of their latest patient in frustration from his position at the conference table.

"That it could be gastroenteritis, gall bladder disease, colon cancer, diverticulitis, kidney stones, an intestinal obstruction or a thousand other things," he said with an annoyed tone in his voice.

"Well let's try to narrow it down from a thousand before lunch, shall we?" House asked condescendingly.

"Why? Got a hot date or something?" Thirteen asked with an arched eyebrow.

Just then, the phone on House's desk started ringing. House began to limp towards the desk to answer it.

"With Wilson. He's wearing my favorite pair of tighty- whities today," House replied to her.

"I always pegged Wilson as a boxers guy," Thirteen whispered to Foreman, leaning over towards him.

Foreman laughed slightly as House picked up the phone.

"Hello," House said.

"Got a case," Chase said promptly on the other end of the phone.

"Already got a case," House replied curtly.

"Trust me. You'll be interested. Thirty- eight year old female presents with dizziness, temporary syncope, low BP and elevated hCG levels," Chase stated.

"You needed me to confirm a diagnosis of pregnancy?" House asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Oh, I knew the diagnosis," Chase assured him.

House grimaced. "Then why are you wasting my time—" he began.

"I just thought YOU'D like to know the diagnosis…" Chase said in a leading tone.

At first, House shook his head, having absolutely no idea what Chase was talking about.

But as he was about to yell at Chase for annoying him, he suddenly stopped himself, a look of epiphany enveloping his features.

"…LISA?" House managed to ask through the lump in his throat.

"She's in Sobol's office waiting for you. She bumped her head a bit when she fainted in the NICU. She's fine. Just a bit of a headache…" Chase told him.

Chase then felt Cuddy lightly thread her fingers through his.

He looked down at her as she lay on the examining table in Dr. Sobol's OB/ Gyn office. She was holding an ice pack on her head where she had fallen.

She had a tired, yet happy smile on her face.

"… And pregnant," Chase added, returning Cuddy's smile with an affectionate one of his own.

"Tell House that this isn't getting him out of the painting party," Cuddy said to Chase in a raspy voice, still smiling.

"She said—" Chase began.

"I heard. I'll be right there," House said quickly as he hung up the phone and began to hurry out of his office.

"Where are you going?" Foreman demanded as he watched House leave.

"To check on a patient," House called back as the glass door closed behind him.

Both Foreman and Thirteen leaned over to the right as they watched him try to run down the hallway with a cane and a limp.

"Either hell just froze over or he's screwing with us," Thirteen muttered, turning her attention back to the file.

"Excuse me," a female voice said.

Upon hearing the voice, Foreman and Thirteen looked up to see a rather pretty, young woman that was either in her late thirties or very early forties. She had straight brown hair that was slightly longer than shoulder length and parted in the middle.

"Is this Dr. Greg House's office?" the woman asked.

"Yes. Can we help you?" Thirteen asked back.

Foreman narrowed his eyes, knowing that he had seen this woman before.

"Yes. I'm Cate Milton. I'm an adjunct professor and a doctor here. I was looking for Dr. House," the woman replied in a friendly manner.


A short time later, Sophie was standing in the locker room in Boston University Teaching Hospital, holding her cell phone with her ear and her shoulder as she continued to clean out her personal belongings from her locker.

"Cuddy's pregnant? That's wonderful!" Sophie exclaimed excitedly.

"Don't say anything. You're not supposed to know," Chase told her in a hushed voice.

"Yeah. Like she really thought that you wouldn't tell me?" Sophie asked dryly.

Chase laughed. "It was House who told me not to say anything," he told her.

"He must be thrilled," Sophie said.

"I think right now, he's a little freaked out," Chase admitted with a grin.

"He'll get used to the idea," Sophie replied with a laugh, taking her iPod out of her locker and dropping it into her backpack.

"So how was your last day as a third year med student?" Chase asked her.

"Very busy. I'll tell you all about it when I see you tonight," Sophie replied, feeling the corners of her lips turn up at the thought of seeing Chase in a few hours.

Tonight was going to be their first night together in their new home, and she couldn't wait to get out of Boston and get to Princeton.

"You excited for our painting party?" Chase asked her, feeling his own excitement rise as he could feel hers over the phone.

"I'm excited to move in with you," Sophie replied sweetly.

"UPS delivered your books and your winter clothes this morning," Chase told her.

"That's great. I'm checking the rest of my stuff through on the flight," Sophie replied.

"I also made you a copy of our key," Chase said softly.

At this, Sophie took the silver metal keychain that displayed an image of a black spade cardsuit out of her pocket that she had specifically purchased for the keys to their new place.

"You don't know how good that sounded," Sophie told him, matching his soft tone as she looked at her keychain.

"What time does your flight get in?" Chase asked her in a husky voice.

"Eight," Sophie replied, feeling her heart flutter at his tone.

"I'll meet you at the airport. I love you, baby," Chase told her.

"I love you," she said as a delectable chill went up her spine.

"Have a safe flight."

"Thank you."

As she closed her cell phone and shoved it back into the pocket of her jeans, she smiled happily to herself.

She then closed the door to her locker, flinching and nearly jumping into the air, drawing in a startled breath when she saw Joey standing next to her, wearing his trademark beat up leather jacket.

But his latest accessory was a black and blue, swollen right eye.

"How the hell did you get back here?" Sophie managed to ask him, clutching her chest as she tried to catch her breath.

"Security in this hospital sucks," Joey stated bluntly.

"What happened to your eye?" she asked, more curious than concerned.

"You know me," Joey replied with a sardonic smirk.

Sophie took the last remaining textbook out of her locker, shoved it into her large backpack and slammed the door shut, not bothering to acknowledge Joey's statement.

"So you're really leaving Boston?" Joey asked her as she began to leave the locker room.

"Yep," Sophie replied, walking away from him, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

"And you're moving in with Chase," Joey clarified as he caught up with her.

"Yep," she repeated, not looking in his direction as she headed for the exit of the hospital.

"Big mistake," Joey stated in a singsong voice.

Sophie stopped walking and reluctantly turned to face him.

"Uh huh. This should be good," she said in an unemotional tone.

"You're moving into a new city. You don't know anyone but Chase. If you guys get into a fight or if it doesn't work out, you're kind of putting all your eggs in one basket, don't you think?" he asked her with an air of superiority.

"I'm truly touched how concerned you are for my well being," Sophie replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Joey cocked his head and arched his eyebrow, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"…My brother and his fiancée live close by," Sophie mumbled.

"So you already do have an escape plan mapped out," Joey stated with a sly grin.

"It's not an escape plan," Sophie muttered angrily as she began to walk away from him once more.

"You know… I just can't see you fitting into the mold of the suburban lifestyle," Joey began.

"Really," Sophie stated in annoyance, beginning to wonder why she was even bothering to waste her time entertaining his pontifications.

"…A house with a picket fence… a yard… two car garage…" Joey continued.

Sophie rolled her eyes and snorted lightly as she turned away from him once more.

"Children," Joey added in a louder voice.

Upon hearing this one word, Sophie felt the exact same surge of anxiety rush up into her chest that she had felt in the condo a few weeks earlier.

But as she turned back to Joey, she kept her face completely devoid of emotion.

"Good thing Atlantic City is less than two hours away from Princeton," Joey said knowingly.

"I haven't TOUCHED a deck of cards in months," Sophie stated angrily, beginning to feel her sense of self- control slip away.

Knowing he rattled her, Joey's sly grin remained on his face as he closed the distance between them.

Now, their faces inches away from each others, his eyes bore into hers.

"You can't run from who you are, Sophie," Joey said, barely above a whisper.

"No matter how hard you try," he added.

Sophie held in her breath, refusing to exhale.

"Have a safe flight," he told her before walking away and leaving her in the lobby of the hospital.