Seeing the baby's arrival as some kind of damnation was apparently House's only way of looking at it. Aside from a few brief moments of happily anticipating a new partner in crime, he seemed to focus on the negatives. She shouldn't be surprised because he always focused on the negative but she simply couldn't understand that mindset, not about a baby. She knew it could be hard work to raise a child and she did have some concerns but it was far outweighed by excitement. She didn't think she could see having a child as anything but positive even if she tried.
"Oh, no, no," she said quickly. She set the full glasses on the counter and turned to wag her finger at him. "If you're going to be a daddy, you're going to be 100% daddy. And that means diaper duty." She leaned forward and snatched a slice of tomato from the bowl. She popped it in her mouth, then started collecting the dishes and cutlery they'd need.
"I know you're not grossed out by a little baby poop. You're a doctor; you've seen far more disgusting things than that." She set the pile of dishes next to the salad bowl and leaned against the counter to look at him. "If you think you're getting out of the dirty work the way you avoid clinic duty--think again. And if you're just worried you don't know how to take care of a baby...." She shrugged. "You're a smart guy. You'll learn."
He knew Cuddy would immediately take issue with him declaring himself a diaper-free zone. In part, he'd been joking - after all, if the kid was going to stay at his apartment, then dealing with poop at some point was going to be inevitable.
Dealing with poop wasn't even the issue, though. As Cuddy said, he'd seen far worse things than poop. He'd seen prolapsed anuses, pus-filled ulcers, gangrene, necrotising fasciitis, faecal vomiting... He knew every kind of descriptive ailment that could make guests at a party run for the toilet with their hands clasped over their mouths. So, baby poop didn't even register on the scale of disgusting.
"So, what are you going to do? Keep a tally of how many diapers I don't change when it's my turn and demand I catch up on my diaper duties every time my avoiding it hits double digits?" He finished shredding the lettuce and looked at Cuddy. She'd done that exact same thing to him with clinic duty - kept note of how many hours behind he was and forced him to make up for them.
He shrugged, turning away to reach for the mushrooms to put in the salad. "Taking care of a baby just takes common sense. Can't be that hard." And he knew taking care of a baby on a physical level probably wouldn't be that hard - they ate, pooped and slept. That wasn't too complex.
Taking care of a baby emotionally, however, was something else entirely. As far as he'd come with accepting that he and Cuddy were going to be parents, he still struggled a lot with the idea of attachment and love. It was a lot easier for him to categorise the kid into something negative rather than positive, to accept the kid while still maintaining as big a distance as he could from attachment. Call it self-preservation or self-defence against the unknown and the terrifying.
But he didn't want to get into discussing any of that. He reached for the tap and turned it on to wash the mushrooms, then set them aside. The last mushroom he washed, though, he flicked the excess water at Cuddy.
"No, that's one thing I don't want to keep tally of," Cuddy said. "I simply want you to do what needs to be done when it needs to be done and not call me to do it."
As far as she was concerned, it wasn't about having to deal with stinky diapers. It was about taking care of your kid in any and all ways necessary. More importantly, she wanted House to be intimately involved in every aspect of the baby's life because she felt it was more likely he and the baby would bond if he was a truly hands-on dad. Her hope was that once he developed an emotional bond with the baby, he'd be less anxious about being a good dad.
"And don't call Wilson to do the dirty work either," she added, thinking of the times House would be on his own taking care of the baby. That thought made her pause. She'd known all along--or at least since House had agreed to give fatherhood a try--that there would be times when he and Junior would be on their own at House's place. The closer she got to her due date, the more real that became, and the more difficult to consider.
It wasn't that she thought House couldn't handle taking care of a kid. He would surely do it in ways she didn't necessarily approve of but he'd do it. Junior would be just fine with his or her daddy. What bothered her was simply the notion of not being able to be with her baby at any time. After carrying Junior for nine months, it was a bit unsettling to think of having to let him go off with someone, even if that someone was Daddy. Maybe it wouldn't be bad. Maybe she'd enjoy the occasional breaks. One way or another, she'd find out soon enough.
She frowned at him when he splashed water at her. She leaned forward and very pointedly used his shirt to wipe her face. Hey, if he could be childish, then so could she. After that, she slipped the leftover quiche in the microwave and turned it on. He almost had the salad done and the quiche should be nice and hot by the time he was.
"So when do you have your first outpatient appointment with Megan?" she asked, resting back against the counter until everything was ready.
"I wouldn't dream of calling Wilson to do the dirty work," he lied, sounding scandalised. "What sort of father-to-be do you take me for?"
Maybe he was lying. In truth, he hadn't really thought much about the idea of making Wilson do the dirty work with this kid. But there'd been plenty of other times he'd roped Wilson into doing the dirty work elsewhere. He couldn't really say how he was actually going to be with the kid, on his own. He liked to think he'd do just fine but who knew how handy Wilson might come in.
"Hey!" he protested mildly at Cuddy wiping her face on his shirt. He frowned down at the wet patch, then up at her. She really could be as childish as him when she wanted to be. As she walked around him with the quiche in hand to put in the microwave, he followed her with his eyes and added pointedly, "You've been hanging out with me too much."
He shook his head with a snort and returned to the mushrooms, unevenly slicing them and tossing the pieces into the salad bowl. He looked askance at Cuddy, at her question. A rather sobering question at that. He was glad as anything to be out of the hospital but wasn't so enthused about having to keep seeing Megan. He didn't have a choice, though, not unless he wanted to ruin his chances with Cuddy and everything else in his life.
"Tuesday," he answered, grabbing another washed mushroom to slice. "At three o'clock. Can't wait," he said sarcastically. He threw the cut up mushroom in the bowl and added, "Maybe you ought to talk Junior into making an appearance around that time. 'I didn't feel like going' isn't a good enough excuse to be saved by the bell but you squeezing out an eight pound human being from between your legs would be."
"I've been hanging out with you for twenty years, give or take. I'd say that's definitely too much," Cuddy said lightly.
Despite their long and sometimes tumultuous association, she couldn't really blame him for her behaviors. He didn't make her act childishly or recklessly anymore than he made her act responsibly or maturely. All those things were already part of who she was. He simply provided opportunities for some of the more repressed parts of her personality to be expressed. It was up to her to decide whether to take advantage of those opportunities. So far, she thought it had been good for her to take the occasional break from her usually responsible nature.
"Yeah," she drawled when he encouraged her to provide an excuse to miss his appointment. "I'll see what I can do about that." She knew he hated the idea of having to continue with his therapy but it was something he needed to accept as part of his normal, day to day life. He needed to accept his problems weren't going to go away overnight and therefore, neither was his need for therapy.
He wasn't very patient, though. When he did manage to acknowledge he had a problem, he wanted it fixed immediately, not after months or years of treatment. He'd given up on his physical rehab very quickly after his infarction and that had only hurt him. The consequences could be even worse, though, if he didn't follow through with his psychiatric therapy, and not just because she might leave him if he couldn't get a grip on himself. If he couldn't get a handle on his problems, they would destroy him. She knew he didn't want that anymore than she did.
"Although, given that first-time labor tends to last for hours, she might insist you keep your appointment anyway." She doubted Megan would do any such thing but if she did, Cuddy would have to put her foot down. House needed to be with her while she was in labor. It didn't matter whether he was actually doing anything or not, she needed him there and no one--not even Megan--was going to take him away.
"And that's assuming that--after a few hours of watching me try to push a another human being out of my body-- you won't want to go to your appointment," she teased. "You might prefer an hour of talking to another hour of watching me grunt and groan my way through labor."
She had a point about the average length of first time labour and it was something he'd already considered. For all he knew, Cuddy could be in labour for - as she'd said - hours. Then again, her labour might be fast and hard and over in minimum time. Neither were really ideal. If it was over fast, he'd possibly be bewildered by the blur of events and wind up staring dumbfounded at a baby before he could even blink. If it took hours upon hours, he may have his nails bitten down to the cuticle before Cuddy was even anywhere near the second stage of labour.
Or it was even possible that the birth would be nowhere near as dramatic and terrifying as he'd conjured in his mind. Maybe once it all came to fruition, he'd be a lot calmer and relaxed. Or possibly not. He had a feeling he may be a little more on the anxious side than Cuddy, which was just stupid. He knew what was going to happen, for God's sake. If it were any other birth, he'd likely be bored with the whole thing. But this wasn't just any other birth, not to him.
"Hmm, you have a point," he said thoughtfully. Which would be worse - being stuck in therapy or being stuck in a delivery room with Cuddy grunting in pain? He wasn't sure. They both had their equally unfavourable points. "Maybe I'll just go for a beer instead."
He was joking, of course. If Cuddy was in labour, he'd be there, regardless how much he might be shitting his pants or no matter how much he would actually want to get a beer to calm his nerves. And as much as he really did not want to continue with therapy... he wouldn't cut class, so to speak. At least, not at first.
"I'll kick my feet up in a bar," he continued, teasing Cuddy, "while you kick your feet up in the lithotomy position." Returning to the salad with two utensils, he began tossing it and glanced at Cuddy. "Obviously, I'm joking," he retorted pointedly to the look on her face.
Cuddy threw him a dirty look when he threatened to go for a beer while she was in labor. She knew he was joking if for no other reason than that he had to know she'd cut his nuts off if he left her to give birth to their child while he was slumming in some bar. Since he was fairly fond of all his bits, he wouldn't take the chance. Still, it might not be a bad idea to put Wilson on guard duty, just to make sure someone would be available to drag House's ass into the delivery room.
She also knew there was probably some small kernel of truth to his threat. He'd made it clear he was uncomfortable with the proposition of being present for the birth. She knew it bothered him to think he wouldn't have anything to do. She couldn't help that. She needed him there for moral support. Or immoral support as was likely in his case. She might not need him to physically do anything but she needed him to be there for her. That was one of those demands she fully intended to make and didn't feel the least bit sorry about.
"Trust me--it would be the last beer you ever drank," she said in mock threat. The microwave went off so she stepped over and pulled out the quiche. She served it onto the plates--his portion twice as big as hers--and left them on the counter to cool just a bit. She picked up their drinks to carry them into the living room. Just as she started to walk away, she paused and looked thoughtfully at him.
"I could just have you tied to my bed in the delivery room," she suggested, not seriously. "Or handcuffed. I'm sure everyone would enjoy that...except you, of course."
"I know it would be," he replied, turning back to the salad. Oh, he knew sitting out of the birth to have a beer would be the last beer he'd ever drink. Frankly, he wanted to live to see a few more beers and other alcoholic beverages, and inducing the wrath of Cuddy while she was in labour would be the equivalent of summoning the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
While she tended to the quiche, he finished tossing the salad and went in search of a salad dressing. Salad on its own, while healthy, was also not very tasty, not to him. He was digging around in her fridge for something to put in the salad, even if it was mayo, when Cuddy stopped in the doorway to say something.
He poked his head up to look over the fridge door, at Cuddy. The mental image of being chained to the bed while Cuddy wreathed around in labour entered his head. As much as she might not have been serious, he could actually picture her doing that. And he could picture himself: wrist dangling limp where it was tied to the bed, sitting on a chair, scowling while nurses and doctors bustled around Cuddy and gave him smug or confused looks.
"Why don't you put a collar on me and tie me to the bed with a leash?" he said sarcastically. "I'll sit like a good boy and scratch behind my ears and lick my crotch." He turned back to the fridge. "Might be a good idea. If you don't want me biting the doctor and growling at the nurses..."
He'd long ago made up his mind that he was going to be keeping a very close eye on Patil, especially during delivery. He didn't care what Cuddy said about trusting Patil - just because she did didn't mean he did. Besides, Cuddy already knew how critical he was of other doctors. Patil sure wasn't going to get off lightly. At least snapping at her would give him something to do if he was particularly out of his depth with what the hell to do as a father in the delivery room.
Locating some salad dressing at the back of the fridge, he pulled it out and went back to the salad. He tipped a generous amount in, tossed the salad again, then picked the salad bowl up in his hands. He carried it out into the living room and put it down on the coffee table.
"On the bright side, you'd be living up to your reputation as a dominatrix. At last, everyone would see for themselves that the stories I told about you over the last eight years, of you being a sadistic DOM, are true."
Cuddy snorted at the idea of House on a leash. It was an appealing image and one she'd had from time to time but a leash wasn't enough to hold him, not if he was determined to get away. He'd simply chew right through it and she'd be left with nothing but half of a soggy leash.
She took their drinks to the living room, then returned to the kitchen to get their plates while House finished the salad. She'd just gotten the plates and silverware placed on the coffee table when he brought out the salad. She lowered herself to the couch, staring up at him with eyebrows raised.
"Yes, that was my thought, too," she said dryly. "No one would dare cross me once they saw how I conquered the great Gregory House."
That actually was the truth. In fact, one of her greatest disadvantages in being taken seriously in her job was the fact she 'allowed' House to run wild. She had to work twice as hard and be twice as strict with everyone else to make up for his antics. She still held out hope that once, just once, he'd actually comply with her demands so she wouldn't look so completely ineffective but she couldn't blame him when he didn't. She'd known what he was like when she hired him and she'd hired him anyway. It had been her choice to deal with his craziness and she had to take responsibility for the consequences.
"But if we're going with the dominatrix theme, it would have to be a leather leash," she said as she picked up her fork. Supper wasn't anything fancy but it looked really good and she was hungry. She pointed her fork at him as she added. "Black leather. Maybe with some pointed steel studs to make you look tough."
House sat with a slump beside Cuddy. "Now, that would be a contradiction - being on a leash because I'm under someone else's control, yet the leash has studs on it to make me look tough." He leaned forward to dig some salad from the bowl onto his plate, then sat back.
"Maybe that means I can finally see you in some leather," he added hopefully. "Though... I can think of sexier situations you could be wearing leather. Wearing it while you're going all Linda Blair in the delivery room wouldn't exactly be a turn on."
After shovelling in the first bite of quiche and swallowing, he stifled a yawn as he stabbed some salad onto his fork. Damn the meds and the groggy feeling they often left him with. The grogginess always hit suddenly and around the same time every day, in the afternoon. He always fought to shake it off, though. His adventure out after his release from hospital had also knocked him about a bit - it was the first time in what felt like ages where he'd actually done anything active.
He fell silent while he worked his way through some of the quiche. He'd been close to hyper when he'd got home to Cuddy's place with all the goodies. He'd been excited and eager to get the most out of his first official day of freedom. But he'd since slowly wound down and his energy was quickly flagging. Again, mostly thanks to the medication.
"Think I need some coffee," he admitted after stifling another yawn.
"I don't think I'm going to be making any fashion statements in the delivery room," Cuddy said before forking some salad into her mouth. She would be the first to admit it was a rare occasion when she didn't make a fashion statement but she had a better set of priorities than that. The birth of her baby--safely--would be her number one priority. How she looked while doing it was not so important. Besides, it was pointless to wear something nice while giving birth. It would end up covered in blood and amniotic fluid and god only knew what else.
She dug into the quiche, letting a hum of appreciation as the food hit her stomach and eased the hunger pangs. She reached down and plucked a mushroom from the salad and popped it in her mouth, turning to look at him when he said he needed coffee.
"Maybe you need rest," she suggested. She knew his medications could cause significant drowsiness. He'd been dealing with that since being admitted to the hospital. She could also tell he'd been out running around that afternoon--his purchases were proof of that--and in his desire to celebrate his new found freedom, he'd probably exerted himself a lot more than he'd become accustommed to while hospitalized. The combination would make anyone tired.
"I mean, I can make a pot of coffee if you want it," she continued. She wasn't sure flooding his system with stimulants was the best idea. Coffee wasn't forbidden, though, so she wasn't going to make an issue of it. If he wanted coffee, he could have coffee.
"It's just...." she waved one hand at herself. "You know I'm going to be practically passed out by eight o'clock. There's no reason you have to stay up half the night."
She knew that was hard for him to simply give in to fatigue. She still fought it herself. She was used to doing what she wanted, when she wanted. The pregnancy had changed that and she'd had to learn to really listen to what her body needed. It wouldn't hurt him to do the same thing. She wasn't sure he ever had listened to his own needs but he might be better off if he did.
"Maybe we could both make it an early night," she said, tilting her head and giving him a suggestive look. Then she let out a soft huff of amusement. "That's assuming we can stay awake and find a way to deal with Mount Junior."
He'd done more than enough resting in hospital. He could rest tonight when he went to bed - but he wasn't ready to give in yet. Even if Cuddy did go to bed at eight, he wanted to stay up beyond that, too, because even if he was just watching TV, at least he'd be watching it all on his own and without being told to go to bed or having to fight someone for the remote control.
As he ate another bite of salad, he glanced at Cuddy and cocked his eyebrow. Well, if they both made it an early night and not for the purpose of going to sleep right away... Maybe then he could be cajoled into going to bed early. But of course, Cuddy had to then remind him that they both may pass out asleep before they got to any action.
"Climbing Mount Junior can be conquered. But can you climb Mount Gregory? That's something you haven't conquered for..." He paused to try and work out how long it had been since he and Cuddy had had sex. He couldn't remember. A month? Two months? Probably closer to two months.
"Ages," he finished. He looked at her belly. "Then again, maybe you with Mount Junior climbing Mount Gregory would be like two tectonic plates crashing together. A cataclysmic eruption of earthquakes and aftershocks."
Cuddy more or less ignored him when he said he didn't want to go to bed early. She hadn't really expected him to give in. She knew it wasn't just childish stubbornness either. He was a nightowl by nature. His internal clock was set a few time zones off. He seemed to thrive on the darkness and the solitude.
As with so many other things, she was the complete opposite to him. She was naturally an early riser. At least, she had been until she met him, and until she got pregnant. Under normal circumstances, though, she was at her best when she got up while the day was still new. She enjoyed the peace and solitude of dawn. She felt energized by it. Getting up late was fine on occasion but otherwise it made her feel like she'd lost half the day. She couldn't adapt to his clock anymore than he could adapt to hers. They just had to take advantage of the hours of overlap when they were both functional.
"Eruptions and aftershocks were kind of what I was hoping for," she said, giving him a coy look. Honestly, she wasn't sure how much 'in the mood' she was but god, she missed the sex. She didn't need him calculating the last time they'd been together to remind her it had been too long. She really missed just being close to him. For the last month, they hadn't even shared a bed, not even just for sleep, other than the weekend he was home. Even with the fatigue, even with the awkwardness of her belly, she wanted to be able to feel him against her, his arms around her.
"As far as conquering Mt. Gregory.... I have no idea whether I can still do that or not," she said, smiling as she reached for her drink. "I'm kind of out of practice but I've been keeping up on my yoga so my thighs haven't turned completely to mush. I suppose, theoretically, it's possible."
She set her glass down after taking a drink and reached over to place her hand on his thigh. "I just want to be with you," she told him, her tone soft and serious. "No earthquakes necessary. Just you."
"That was meant to be an insult," he replied, but he was smiling slightly at the coy look Cuddy was giving him. Sex, along with a lot of other things, had been an interest he hadn't had a lot of focus on, thanks to hospitalisation and medication.
He'd missed it like hell, though. His doctor had been keeping a close eye on his erectile function because of how his meds could affect it, but achieving erections out of want hadn't been something that was so successful. And he had tried a couple of times - alone, in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep, was bored, missed Cuddy, had wanted to feel something pleasurable, he'd tried to masturbate. He'd given up within five or ten minutes of trying. Though his mind had been somewhat willing, his body hadn't cooperated. Maybe that would be different if Cuddy was actually with him, however. He'd soon find out, he supposed, assuming Cuddy didn't actually fall to sleep first.
He sectioned off some quiche with his fork but rested it on his plate while Cuddy touched his leg. "I'm pretty sure that can be arranged," he said with a faint upturn of his lips. Maybe being with Cuddy really would result in successful 'eruptions and aftershocks' - the very thought of getting naked with her evoked a familiar warm, anticipatory feeling in him.
He studied her face, that tingly feeling growing, and then he leaned over until his shoulder was pressed to hers and he burrowed his face against the side of neck with an affectionate, sloppy kiss.
"Good," Cuddy said with a quiet smile. She had no idea whether they'd both be ready, willing and able when it came right down to it. Sex was a part of their relationship that always satisfied but it had been pushed to the side by a number of factors and those factors still existed. Just because they wanted to get physically close again didn't mean they'd be able to achieve it.
She'd be content to simply lie with him. She'd be happy to hold him close and know he was finally back home with her. She didn't need the complete sexual experience. But time was running out. Once she gave birth she'd be out of commission for six weeks as far as intercourse was concerned. That seemed like a very long time when combined with the couple of months they'd already gone without sex. Those six weeks might go by fast. New babies were demanding and new mothers tended to be tired and she might not even think about sex. She'd still rather get at least one more night of pleasure in before the possibility was completely out of the question.
"Stop," she laughed, cringing away when his kiss tickled her neck. She hadn't been expecting it and a little shiver ran down her spine. Although she felt a warmth flood through her skin at his affectionate gesture, she had to ignore it momentarily as she nearly tipped her food onto her lap. She got a firm grip on her plate and righted it before she ended up wearing her dinner. Then she turned her head to him, nudging him until he moved his lips from her neck to her mouth so she could kiss him properly.
"Eat your dinner," she admonished playfully as she pulled away from the kiss. "If there's going to be any mountain climbing tonight, you'll need all your strength."
"Hmm, no," he answered against her neck, smiling at her laugh and the way she was trying to squirm away from him. He tried to use his lips to tickle her neck now instead of kissing it but she was quickly nudging him away. With his mouth directed to hers, he settled on kissing that, which was fine by him - he rested his head on the back of the couch, neck arched up while he let her take lead of the kiss.
"Depends on who's doing the mountain climbing," he replied, sitting back to resume eating his meal. He picked up his fork, the piece of quiche still speared on it. It really was good to be home, he thought to himself as he kicked up a foot onto the coffee table and slouched more comfortably. It was good to be home with Cuddy, able to kiss and touch and annoy her whenever he pleased. It was good to be back in a familiar environment, too - her place had more or less become his second home. Some weeks, he'd spent more time here than in his own apartment and perhaps things would now return to something way more consistent and stable.
Maybe this really was a new beginning for him and Cuddy. Maybe things would get easier from here on out. Maybe they wouldn't, too, as it was only his first official day home - too early to really tell if anything was repaired. He liked to think it was, though. He wasn't sure how else he'd make it through these next couple of nervewracking weeks.
It made him suddenly think about something, though. As he licked the residue of quiche off his fork and went to stab up some lettuce, he lifted his other foot to cross it over the one resting on the coffee table. "You know what I think?" he said. He popped the lettuce into his mouth. "I think we should get rid of that weekend-only arrangement we had going for a while."
He swallowed and leaned his head in Cuddy's direction to look at her. "I never liked it, anyway. And I'd rather have the choice to drive you nuts any day of the week instead of being restricted to a weekend." He shrugged and turned back to his dinner. "It's not going to make any sense to stick to a weekend-only arrangement, anyway. Weekend-only arrangements around kids is only done with people who hate each other and have custody fights over their offspring. We haven't quite reached that point yet," he added mock seriously.
Seeing the baby's arrival as some kind of damnation was apparently House's only way of looking at it. Aside from a few brief moments of happily anticipating a new partner in crime, he seemed to focus on the negatives. She shouldn't be surprised because he always focused on the negative but she simply couldn't understand that mindset, not about a baby. She knew it could be hard work to raise a child and she did have some concerns but it was far outweighed by excitement. She didn't think she could see having a child as anything but positive even if she tried.
"Oh, no, no," she said quickly. She set the full glasses on the counter and turned to wag her finger at him. "If you're going to be a daddy, you're going to be 100% daddy. And that means diaper duty." She leaned forward and snatched a slice of tomato from the bowl. She popped it in her mouth, then started collecting the dishes and cutlery they'd need.
"I know you're not grossed out by a little baby poop. You're a doctor; you've seen far more disgusting things than that." She set the pile of dishes next to the salad bowl and leaned against the counter to look at him. "If you think you're getting out of the dirty work the way you avoid clinic duty--think again. And if you're just worried you don't know how to take care of a baby...." She shrugged. "You're a smart guy. You'll learn."
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Dealing with poop wasn't even the issue, though. As Cuddy said, he'd seen far worse things than poop. He'd seen prolapsed anuses, pus-filled ulcers, gangrene, necrotising fasciitis, faecal vomiting... He knew every kind of descriptive ailment that could make guests at a party run for the toilet with their hands clasped over their mouths. So, baby poop didn't even register on the scale of disgusting.
"So, what are you going to do? Keep a tally of how many diapers I don't change when it's my turn and demand I catch up on my diaper duties every time my avoiding it hits double digits?" He finished shredding the lettuce and looked at Cuddy. She'd done that exact same thing to him with clinic duty - kept note of how many hours behind he was and forced him to make up for them.
He shrugged, turning away to reach for the mushrooms to put in the salad. "Taking care of a baby just takes common sense. Can't be that hard." And he knew taking care of a baby on a physical level probably wouldn't be that hard - they ate, pooped and slept. That wasn't too complex.
Taking care of a baby emotionally, however, was something else entirely. As far as he'd come with accepting that he and Cuddy were going to be parents, he still struggled a lot with the idea of attachment and love. It was a lot easier for him to categorise the kid into something negative rather than positive, to accept the kid while still maintaining as big a distance as he could from attachment. Call it self-preservation or self-defence against the unknown and the terrifying.
But he didn't want to get into discussing any of that. He reached for the tap and turned it on to wash the mushrooms, then set them aside. The last mushroom he washed, though, he flicked the excess water at Cuddy.
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As far as she was concerned, it wasn't about having to deal with stinky diapers. It was about taking care of your kid in any and all ways necessary. More importantly, she wanted House to be intimately involved in every aspect of the baby's life because she felt it was more likely he and the baby would bond if he was a truly hands-on dad. Her hope was that once he developed an emotional bond with the baby, he'd be less anxious about being a good dad.
"And don't call Wilson to do the dirty work either," she added, thinking of the times House would be on his own taking care of the baby. That thought made her pause. She'd known all along--or at least since House had agreed to give fatherhood a try--that there would be times when he and Junior would be on their own at House's place. The closer she got to her due date, the more real that became, and the more difficult to consider.
It wasn't that she thought House couldn't handle taking care of a kid. He would surely do it in ways she didn't necessarily approve of but he'd do it. Junior would be just fine with his or her daddy. What bothered her was simply the notion of not being able to be with her baby at any time. After carrying Junior for nine months, it was a bit unsettling to think of having to let him go off with someone, even if that someone was Daddy. Maybe it wouldn't be bad. Maybe she'd enjoy the occasional breaks. One way or another, she'd find out soon enough.
She frowned at him when he splashed water at her. She leaned forward and very pointedly used his shirt to wipe her face. Hey, if he could be childish, then so could she. After that, she slipped the leftover quiche in the microwave and turned it on. He almost had the salad done and the quiche should be nice and hot by the time he was.
"So when do you have your first outpatient appointment with Megan?" she asked, resting back against the counter until everything was ready.
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Maybe he was lying. In truth, he hadn't really thought much about the idea of making Wilson do the dirty work with this kid. But there'd been plenty of other times he'd roped Wilson into doing the dirty work elsewhere. He couldn't really say how he was actually going to be with the kid, on his own. He liked to think he'd do just fine but who knew how handy Wilson might come in.
"Hey!" he protested mildly at Cuddy wiping her face on his shirt. He frowned down at the wet patch, then up at her. She really could be as childish as him when she wanted to be. As she walked around him with the quiche in hand to put in the microwave, he followed her with his eyes and added pointedly, "You've been hanging out with me too much."
He shook his head with a snort and returned to the mushrooms, unevenly slicing them and tossing the pieces into the salad bowl. He looked askance at Cuddy, at her question. A rather sobering question at that. He was glad as anything to be out of the hospital but wasn't so enthused about having to keep seeing Megan. He didn't have a choice, though, not unless he wanted to ruin his chances with Cuddy and everything else in his life.
"Tuesday," he answered, grabbing another washed mushroom to slice. "At three o'clock. Can't wait," he said sarcastically. He threw the cut up mushroom in the bowl and added, "Maybe you ought to talk Junior into making an appearance around that time. 'I didn't feel like going' isn't a good enough excuse to be saved by the bell but you squeezing out an eight pound human being from between your legs would be."
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Despite their long and sometimes tumultuous association, she couldn't really blame him for her behaviors. He didn't make her act childishly or recklessly anymore than he made her act responsibly or maturely. All those things were already part of who she was. He simply provided opportunities for some of the more repressed parts of her personality to be expressed. It was up to her to decide whether to take advantage of those opportunities. So far, she thought it had been good for her to take the occasional break from her usually responsible nature.
"Yeah," she drawled when he encouraged her to provide an excuse to miss his appointment. "I'll see what I can do about that." She knew he hated the idea of having to continue with his therapy but it was something he needed to accept as part of his normal, day to day life. He needed to accept his problems weren't going to go away overnight and therefore, neither was his need for therapy.
He wasn't very patient, though. When he did manage to acknowledge he had a problem, he wanted it fixed immediately, not after months or years of treatment. He'd given up on his physical rehab very quickly after his infarction and that had only hurt him. The consequences could be even worse, though, if he didn't follow through with his psychiatric therapy, and not just because she might leave him if he couldn't get a grip on himself. If he couldn't get a handle on his problems, they would destroy him. She knew he didn't want that anymore than she did.
"Although, given that first-time labor tends to last for hours, she might insist you keep your appointment anyway." She doubted Megan would do any such thing but if she did, Cuddy would have to put her foot down. House needed to be with her while she was in labor. It didn't matter whether he was actually doing anything or not, she needed him there and no one--not even Megan--was going to take him away.
"And that's assuming that--after a few hours of watching me try to push a another human being out of my body-- you won't want to go to your appointment," she teased. "You might prefer an hour of talking to another hour of watching me grunt and groan my way through labor."
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Or it was even possible that the birth would be nowhere near as dramatic and terrifying as he'd conjured in his mind. Maybe once it all came to fruition, he'd be a lot calmer and relaxed. Or possibly not. He had a feeling he may be a little more on the anxious side than Cuddy, which was just stupid. He knew what was going to happen, for God's sake. If it were any other birth, he'd likely be bored with the whole thing. But this wasn't just any other birth, not to him.
"Hmm, you have a point," he said thoughtfully. Which would be worse - being stuck in therapy or being stuck in a delivery room with Cuddy grunting in pain? He wasn't sure. They both had their equally unfavourable points. "Maybe I'll just go for a beer instead."
He was joking, of course. If Cuddy was in labour, he'd be there, regardless how much he might be shitting his pants or no matter how much he would actually want to get a beer to calm his nerves. And as much as he really did not want to continue with therapy... he wouldn't cut class, so to speak. At least, not at first.
"I'll kick my feet up in a bar," he continued, teasing Cuddy, "while you kick your feet up in the lithotomy position." Returning to the salad with two utensils, he began tossing it and glanced at Cuddy. "Obviously, I'm joking," he retorted pointedly to the look on her face.
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She also knew there was probably some small kernel of truth to his threat. He'd made it clear he was uncomfortable with the proposition of being present for the birth. She knew it bothered him to think he wouldn't have anything to do. She couldn't help that. She needed him there for moral support. Or immoral support as was likely in his case. She might not need him to physically do anything but she needed him to be there for her. That was one of those demands she fully intended to make and didn't feel the least bit sorry about.
"Trust me--it would be the last beer you ever drank," she said in mock threat. The microwave went off so she stepped over and pulled out the quiche. She served it onto the plates--his portion twice as big as hers--and left them on the counter to cool just a bit. She picked up their drinks to carry them into the living room. Just as she started to walk away, she paused and looked thoughtfully at him.
"I could just have you tied to my bed in the delivery room," she suggested, not seriously. "Or handcuffed. I'm sure everyone would enjoy that...except you, of course."
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While she tended to the quiche, he finished tossing the salad and went in search of a salad dressing. Salad on its own, while healthy, was also not very tasty, not to him. He was digging around in her fridge for something to put in the salad, even if it was mayo, when Cuddy stopped in the doorway to say something.
He poked his head up to look over the fridge door, at Cuddy. The mental image of being chained to the bed while Cuddy wreathed around in labour entered his head. As much as she might not have been serious, he could actually picture her doing that. And he could picture himself: wrist dangling limp where it was tied to the bed, sitting on a chair, scowling while nurses and doctors bustled around Cuddy and gave him smug or confused looks.
"Why don't you put a collar on me and tie me to the bed with a leash?" he said sarcastically. "I'll sit like a good boy and scratch behind my ears and lick my crotch." He turned back to the fridge. "Might be a good idea. If you don't want me biting the doctor and growling at the nurses..."
He'd long ago made up his mind that he was going to be keeping a very close eye on Patil, especially during delivery. He didn't care what Cuddy said about trusting Patil - just because she did didn't mean he did. Besides, Cuddy already knew how critical he was of other doctors. Patil sure wasn't going to get off lightly. At least snapping at her would give him something to do if he was particularly out of his depth with what the hell to do as a father in the delivery room.
Locating some salad dressing at the back of the fridge, he pulled it out and went back to the salad. He tipped a generous amount in, tossed the salad again, then picked the salad bowl up in his hands. He carried it out into the living room and put it down on the coffee table.
"On the bright side, you'd be living up to your reputation as a dominatrix. At last, everyone would see for themselves that the stories I told about you over the last eight years, of you being a sadistic DOM, are true."
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She took their drinks to the living room, then returned to the kitchen to get their plates while House finished the salad. She'd just gotten the plates and silverware placed on the coffee table when he brought out the salad. She lowered herself to the couch, staring up at him with eyebrows raised.
"Yes, that was my thought, too," she said dryly. "No one would dare cross me once they saw how I conquered the great Gregory House."
That actually was the truth. In fact, one of her greatest disadvantages in being taken seriously in her job was the fact she 'allowed' House to run wild. She had to work twice as hard and be twice as strict with everyone else to make up for his antics. She still held out hope that once, just once, he'd actually comply with her demands so she wouldn't look so completely ineffective but she couldn't blame him when he didn't. She'd known what he was like when she hired him and she'd hired him anyway. It had been her choice to deal with his craziness and she had to take responsibility for the consequences.
"But if we're going with the dominatrix theme, it would have to be a leather leash," she said as she picked up her fork. Supper wasn't anything fancy but it looked really good and she was hungry. She pointed her fork at him as she added. "Black leather. Maybe with some pointed steel studs to make you look tough."
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"Maybe that means I can finally see you in some leather," he added hopefully. "Though... I can think of sexier situations you could be wearing leather. Wearing it while you're going all Linda Blair in the delivery room wouldn't exactly be a turn on."
After shovelling in the first bite of quiche and swallowing, he stifled a yawn as he stabbed some salad onto his fork. Damn the meds and the groggy feeling they often left him with. The grogginess always hit suddenly and around the same time every day, in the afternoon. He always fought to shake it off, though. His adventure out after his release from hospital had also knocked him about a bit - it was the first time in what felt like ages where he'd actually done anything active.
He fell silent while he worked his way through some of the quiche. He'd been close to hyper when he'd got home to Cuddy's place with all the goodies. He'd been excited and eager to get the most out of his first official day of freedom. But he'd since slowly wound down and his energy was quickly flagging. Again, mostly thanks to the medication.
"Think I need some coffee," he admitted after stifling another yawn.
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She dug into the quiche, letting a hum of appreciation as the food hit her stomach and eased the hunger pangs. She reached down and plucked a mushroom from the salad and popped it in her mouth, turning to look at him when he said he needed coffee.
"Maybe you need rest," she suggested. She knew his medications could cause significant drowsiness. He'd been dealing with that since being admitted to the hospital. She could also tell he'd been out running around that afternoon--his purchases were proof of that--and in his desire to celebrate his new found freedom, he'd probably exerted himself a lot more than he'd become accustommed to while hospitalized. The combination would make anyone tired.
"I mean, I can make a pot of coffee if you want it," she continued. She wasn't sure flooding his system with stimulants was the best idea. Coffee wasn't forbidden, though, so she wasn't going to make an issue of it. If he wanted coffee, he could have coffee.
"It's just...." she waved one hand at herself. "You know I'm going to be practically passed out by eight o'clock. There's no reason you have to stay up half the night."
She knew that was hard for him to simply give in to fatigue. She still fought it herself. She was used to doing what she wanted, when she wanted. The pregnancy had changed that and she'd had to learn to really listen to what her body needed. It wouldn't hurt him to do the same thing. She wasn't sure he ever had listened to his own needs but he might be better off if he did.
"Maybe we could both make it an early night," she said, tilting her head and giving him a suggestive look. Then she let out a soft huff of amusement. "That's assuming we can stay awake and find a way to deal with Mount Junior."
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He'd done more than enough resting in hospital. He could rest tonight when he went to bed - but he wasn't ready to give in yet. Even if Cuddy did go to bed at eight, he wanted to stay up beyond that, too, because even if he was just watching TV, at least he'd be watching it all on his own and without being told to go to bed or having to fight someone for the remote control.
As he ate another bite of salad, he glanced at Cuddy and cocked his eyebrow. Well, if they both made it an early night and not for the purpose of going to sleep right away... Maybe then he could be cajoled into going to bed early. But of course, Cuddy had to then remind him that they both may pass out asleep before they got to any action.
"Climbing Mount Junior can be conquered. But can you climb Mount Gregory? That's something you haven't conquered for..." He paused to try and work out how long it had been since he and Cuddy had had sex. He couldn't remember. A month? Two months? Probably closer to two months.
"Ages," he finished. He looked at her belly. "Then again, maybe you with Mount Junior climbing Mount Gregory would be like two tectonic plates crashing together. A cataclysmic eruption of earthquakes and aftershocks."
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As with so many other things, she was the complete opposite to him. She was naturally an early riser. At least, she had been until she met him, and until she got pregnant. Under normal circumstances, though, she was at her best when she got up while the day was still new. She enjoyed the peace and solitude of dawn. She felt energized by it. Getting up late was fine on occasion but otherwise it made her feel like she'd lost half the day. She couldn't adapt to his clock anymore than he could adapt to hers. They just had to take advantage of the hours of overlap when they were both functional.
"Eruptions and aftershocks were kind of what I was hoping for," she said, giving him a coy look. Honestly, she wasn't sure how much 'in the mood' she was but god, she missed the sex. She didn't need him calculating the last time they'd been together to remind her it had been too long. She really missed just being close to him. For the last month, they hadn't even shared a bed, not even just for sleep, other than the weekend he was home. Even with the fatigue, even with the awkwardness of her belly, she wanted to be able to feel him against her, his arms around her.
"As far as conquering Mt. Gregory.... I have no idea whether I can still do that or not," she said, smiling as she reached for her drink. "I'm kind of out of practice but I've been keeping up on my yoga so my thighs haven't turned completely to mush. I suppose, theoretically, it's possible."
She set her glass down after taking a drink and reached over to place her hand on his thigh. "I just want to be with you," she told him, her tone soft and serious. "No earthquakes necessary. Just you."
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He'd missed it like hell, though. His doctor had been keeping a close eye on his erectile function because of how his meds could affect it, but achieving erections out of want hadn't been something that was so successful. And he had tried a couple of times - alone, in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep, was bored, missed Cuddy, had wanted to feel something pleasurable, he'd tried to masturbate. He'd given up within five or ten minutes of trying. Though his mind had been somewhat willing, his body hadn't cooperated. Maybe that would be different if Cuddy was actually with him, however. He'd soon find out, he supposed, assuming Cuddy didn't actually fall to sleep first.
He sectioned off some quiche with his fork but rested it on his plate while Cuddy touched his leg. "I'm pretty sure that can be arranged," he said with a faint upturn of his lips. Maybe being with Cuddy really would result in successful 'eruptions and aftershocks' - the very thought of getting naked with her evoked a familiar warm, anticipatory feeling in him.
He studied her face, that tingly feeling growing, and then he leaned over until his shoulder was pressed to hers and he burrowed his face against the side of neck with an affectionate, sloppy kiss.
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She'd be content to simply lie with him. She'd be happy to hold him close and know he was finally back home with her. She didn't need the complete sexual experience. But time was running out. Once she gave birth she'd be out of commission for six weeks as far as intercourse was concerned. That seemed like a very long time when combined with the couple of months they'd already gone without sex. Those six weeks might go by fast. New babies were demanding and new mothers tended to be tired and she might not even think about sex. She'd still rather get at least one more night of pleasure in before the possibility was completely out of the question.
"Stop," she laughed, cringing away when his kiss tickled her neck. She hadn't been expecting it and a little shiver ran down her spine. Although she felt a warmth flood through her skin at his affectionate gesture, she had to ignore it momentarily as she nearly tipped her food onto her lap. She got a firm grip on her plate and righted it before she ended up wearing her dinner. Then she turned her head to him, nudging him until he moved his lips from her neck to her mouth so she could kiss him properly.
"Eat your dinner," she admonished playfully as she pulled away from the kiss. "If there's going to be any mountain climbing tonight, you'll need all your strength."
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"Depends on who's doing the mountain climbing," he replied, sitting back to resume eating his meal. He picked up his fork, the piece of quiche still speared on it. It really was good to be home, he thought to himself as he kicked up a foot onto the coffee table and slouched more comfortably. It was good to be home with Cuddy, able to kiss and touch and annoy her whenever he pleased. It was good to be back in a familiar environment, too - her place had more or less become his second home. Some weeks, he'd spent more time here than in his own apartment and perhaps things would now return to something way more consistent and stable.
Maybe this really was a new beginning for him and Cuddy. Maybe things would get easier from here on out. Maybe they wouldn't, too, as it was only his first official day home - too early to really tell if anything was repaired. He liked to think it was, though. He wasn't sure how else he'd make it through these next couple of nervewracking weeks.
It made him suddenly think about something, though. As he licked the residue of quiche off his fork and went to stab up some lettuce, he lifted his other foot to cross it over the one resting on the coffee table. "You know what I think?" he said. He popped the lettuce into his mouth. "I think we should get rid of that weekend-only arrangement we had going for a while."
He swallowed and leaned his head in Cuddy's direction to look at her. "I never liked it, anyway. And I'd rather have the choice to drive you nuts any day of the week instead of being restricted to a weekend." He shrugged and turned back to his dinner. "It's not going to make any sense to stick to a weekend-only arrangement, anyway. Weekend-only arrangements around kids is only done with people who hate each other and have custody fights over their offspring. We haven't quite reached that point yet," he added mock seriously.
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