*A quick Huddy one-shot to tie people over until Forever Mine is written. I like the pairing, you like the pairing. Well I HOPE you like the pairing if you're reading this. Either way, everything happens for a reason. Read on! And review.*

The Capacity to Care

"It almost looks like he's..." Cameron gulped, looking at the black-and-white photo the patient had taken. "caring." The rest of the team nodded in agreement.

"But he doesn't care. He never cares." Chase reminded the other two doctors, smiling a little at Cameron.

"I don't think he has the capacity to care." Foreman added his eternally unhelpful opinion.

But, oh, how wrong the doctors were. Greg House was hard and cold and heartless on the outside, how true. But inside was this sweet, caring man no one seemed to know.

No one, that is, except Lisa Cuddy.

She saw how he looked at her, his eyes weren't full of the lust he spoke of. His words weren't full of hate. His actions weren't spiteful. House was a man of many faces, and this face was that of compassion.

It could also be that she wanted to see goodness in him. It was like he was the Wicked Witch of the West somedays. Other days he was as innocent as a deer just frolicking through the woods. She couldn't believe he was a bad guy. He never was a bad guy. How could a good guy seem like such a bad one nine times out of ten?

"Come to dinner with me." House offered her one night.

"What's the catch?" She asked quietly, knowing he had heard her. She didn't want all the nurses to, though.

"No games, no gimmicks, no tricks." He told her. "Just you and me, and dinner."

"Um..." She didn't even really have to think it over. "Where are we going?"

"Wherever you want." They made their way into the parking lot, where his motorcycle waited anxiously for its owner. "Your carriage awaits."

She thought twice, looking over her outfit. For once, she didn't have the excuse of "I'm wearing a skirt". She reluctantly got on the lovely ride and wrapped her arms around him. Cuddy half-expected him to shrug her away, but he didn't. They whipped out of the driveway.

They pulled up to a small Mexican restaurant on the other side of town. She peeled herself off of him and they made their way in, hands entwined like high schoolers did down hallways. "How did you know I liked this place?"

He didn't answer at first, but finally he did. "I just figured you would." Which was a lie, of course. This place catered the last hospital fundraiser, he knew that despite the fact he didn't go. She ordered a taco salad. He followed her lead.

"Why did you take me to dinner, House?" She finally asked, seeing he had finished half of his meal and was well into the chips and salsa.

"Because..." He smiled. "I've been meaning to for a while and never had."

"Why not?"

"Fear of rejection, fear in general." He admitted.

"Don't tell me I'm that scary."

"No, but I am."

No capacity to care, her ass. If House was anything, she knew he was neither sentimental or emotional. But he was House, and he did care. He just chose not to show it.