"Wilson told me you called him. Very considerate of you, Cuddy. So I guess your phone is working after all . . .A toast, okay? To my best friend and my ex-girl. One's dying and the other one is not speaking to me. But hey, at least they're talking to each other. Ha, ha, ha. The universe sure loves a good joke. G'night Cuddy."

McElroy got up, started to approach the witness stand.

"What are you doing?" House asked.

"The cross examination," McElroy said. "Surely you've watched enough legal dramas to know that's how it's done."

"I just…she already said what she has to say."

"Yeah, and now I have to prove the reasonable doubt part."

He strode up to Cuddy.

"Dr. Cuddy, you have a daughter don't you?" he said.

"Yes, Rachel. She's almost 6," Cuddy said cautiously. She was already on alert.

"And how old was she when you dated Dr. House?"

"Ummm, she had her third birthday during the time we were together."

"I'm confused about the timing of all this," McElroy said, feigning innocence. "Were you not aware that Dr. House was a drug addict when you began seeing him?"

Cuddy scowled at him.

"He was clean at the time," she said. "He'd been sober for more than a year."

"But as an MD, surely you knew the odds of relapse were high."

"Not all addicts have relapses," Cuddy said.

"But many do. I guess you just figured, you were willing to take that chance on your daughter's safety."

Cuddy's mouth dropped open.

"Objection!" Ross shouted.

House stood up.

"Can I have a word with my counsel please?" he said, loudly.

McElroy walked over to him. Leaned toward him.

"What are you doing?" House hissed.

"I'm interrogating my witness."

"Ask her to say nice things about me. She's obviously willing to…"

"House, we're way beyond the point of having her say nice things about you. Her previous testimony was very damning. I need to discredit her as a reliable source completely."

"I won't allow it," House said, shaking his head.

"House, do you want to go back to jail?"

"I believe duh is the appropriate response to that question."

"Then let me do my job. This is not a drill. This is your life we're dealing with here."

"Okay," House said, reluctantly. Then he pointed at him. "But don't cross a line."

"Never," McElroy said, reapproaching Cuddy with a little extra zip in his stride.

"Sorry about that. I was just trying to figure out why you would let this known addict into your child's life."

"He was clean!" she repeated.

"But surely there were other men who weren't recovering drug addicts. . ."

"I wasn't in love with other men. I was in love with him," Cuddy admitted.

At the defense table, House swallowed.

"Well, that always solves everything," McElroy said cheerfully.

"Objection!" Ross said.

"Sorry, your honor. Strike that." McElroy turned back to Cuddy. "Would you characterize your relationship with Dr. House as highly charged?"

"You could say that."

"Passionate?"

Cuddy smiled a bit.

"You could definitely say that."

"Dysfunctional?"

"Ummm, I wouldn't necessary go that far."

"He drove a car into your house."

"That was the breakup. Not the relationship itself."

"The nature of the breakup generally reflects the nature of the relationship," McElroy said.

"Objection!" Ross said. "Who is this guy? Yoda?"

"Sustained," the judge said.

McElroy raised his eyebrows.

"In Dr. House's last court appearance, your colleagues said this kind of highly charged behavior had been going on between the two of you for years. Is that true?"

Cuddy shrugged.

"A shrug isn't an answer, Dr. Cuddy."

"Then maybe you should ask better questions."

Atta girl, thought House.

"They said you used to have huge shouting matches in the hall."

"Sometimes."

"And that House was always testing you, to see how much he could get away with."

"That's true."

"They said he made inappropriate sexual remarks about you all the time."

"They were harmless."

"One colleague said"—he pulled out his notes—"the sexual tension between those two bordered on indecent."

Cuddy laughed.

"We flirted," she said.

McElroy stopped reading, put his notes down. "And that was before you began dating. I can only imagine what it was like once you two actually started sleeping together."

"We did great," Cuddy said, glancing at House.

He gave her an encouraging half-smile.

"Oh yes, great relationships always end with attempted vehicular manslaughter."

"Objection!" Ross shouted. "What on earth does Dr. Cuddy's relationship with your client have to do with this trial?"

"I'm just trying to put Dr. Cuddy's earlier testimony in context."

The judge considered it.

"I'll allow it," she said. "But I need you to get to the point of this—quickly."

"Absolutely," McElroy said, bowing at her. "Dr. Cuddy, you strike me as an intelligent woman. A very accomplished woman. Obviously, a very beautiful woman."

"Objection!"

"Hey, I'm a lawyer. I'm not dead," McElroy quipped.

Laughter from the jury pool.

"It just seems to me," McElroy continued, "that you lose a bit of your sound judgment when you are around my client. Would you agree?"

"I'm sorry," she said, "Was that your idea of a question?"

House smirked.

"Would you go as far as to say that your relationship to Dr. House was addictive?"

"No, I would not," Cuddy said.

"Huh. My point here is—"

"Finally!" Ross said, sarcastically.

"My point here is—isn't it possible that you are in no position to rationally address House's state of mind, since the two of you had what the French call a folie a deux—that is to say, a shared madness?"

"Objection!" Ross said. "This showboating is getting tiresome."

"I retract that last statement," McElroy said, before the judge could sustain.

He turned to Cuddy again.

"Dr. Cuddy, as a mother, isn't it true that you are obligated to do what is in the best interest of your child?"

"Of course!"

"And was dating Dr. House in the best interest of your child?"

"Rachel loved him."

"Was he ever a jerk to her?"

"No…not that I can recall."

"Never?"

"I mean, maybe once or twice. House isn't very good at sugar-coating things."

"267 patient complaints would suggest that."

"I suppose so."

"And yet you were willing to bring this man we've established as a jerk and an addict, this man you had a highly charged sexual addiction to into your child's life." He chuckled, derisively. "I guess you won't be winning any Mother of the Year awards."

"Objection!"

But it wasn't Ross shouting this time, it was House.

"Dr. House, you're not serving as counsel in this trial," the judge scolded. "You can't object."

"May I have a world with my lawyer again?" House said, through gritted teeth.

"Okay," the judge said. "But make it brief."

McElroy walked back over to the defense table, looking slightly annoyed.

"Tell her she can step off the witness stand," House said. "We're done here."

"I know this line of argument seems counterintuitive," McElroy said, "but trust me I know what I'm doing."

"I don't care. Cuddy is not on trial here. I am. Your questions are way out of line."

"If you don't let me finish interrogating her, every negative thing she said about you will stick."

"I can live with that."

McElroy glared at him, folded his arms. House glared back.

A mini standoff.

Finally, McElroy stepped back to his witness.

"No further questions," he said.

####

"Something bad has happened. Something really, really bad. I can't say what. All I can say is, you may never hear from me again. I know…cause for celebration, right? But if anything should…happen to me, just know that I love you, okay? Always have. Always will. End of story. Good bye Cuddy."

House got lucky.

The jury agreed that the charges against him were trumped up, especially once the very credible Dr. Eric Foreman insisted that he was the one who had flushed the tickets and clogged the hospital pipes, not House. They saw House's devotion to his dying best friend as noble, and a few of the female jury members were especially moved by his efforts to rescue his ex girlfriend from that bully on the witness stand.

They found him not guilty on 10 of the 12 charges leveled against him.

House was sentenced to 1 year in prison for parole violation. On good behavior, he could be out in 6 months.

He'd been at the Jersey State Penitentiary for a month, when he was told he had a visitor.

The last time he'd gotten his hopes up, his visitor had been Eric Foreman. So he managed his expectations.

But it was her.

She was sitting at the linoleum, cafeteria-style tables they had in the visitor's room, under the florescent lights.

He never wanted to see her in a place that was so cold, ugly, and institutional. He had a moment of shame that he was the one who had brought her here.

She looked nervous. She was actually biting her nails. But of course she looked gorgeous, too. She was the only woman he knew who could look beautiful in florescent light. She was wearing a blue sweater, a pair of jeans, not too much makeup. His Cuddy, the private one. Not the power bitch she showed to the world.

House, for his part, was dressed in that ugly, state-issued grey jumpsuit. But at least he wasn't in cuffs.

He rubbed his head. He had shaved his head closely when he first got to jail. It was just now beginning to grow back in idiosyncratic tufts.

"Hi," he said, sitting across from her. He could actually hear his own heart pounding in his chest.

"Hi," she said.

There was a long silence.

"You look pretty good, for a dead guy," she said with a smile, trying to break the ice.

"Thanks. And you look beautiful," House said. "As always."

She blushed a bit.

Then she said: "Don't ever put me through that again, House. You scared the shit out of me. I really thought you were dead."

And yet you obviously weren't upset enough to come to my funeral, he thought, but didn't say.

"Sorry," he said instead.

"How'd they even find out you were alive?" she said. "You covered your tracks pretty well."

"I did. Wilson didn't. He called his parents, assured them he was okay, but they worried anyway. Apparently, he came by his overbearing, fretful nature honestly. Anyway, they called the cops, who put a track on him. The cops kept hearing reports about two men. . .they eventually put two and two together. Figured it was me. Figured I'd show for my best friend's funeral. And they were right."

House shrugged.

"You probably should've stayed away," Cuddy said.

"I couldn't stay away," House said, giving her a meaningful look.

She knew what the look meant. Ignored it.

She sighed, swallowed.

"House, I wanted to apologize for what happened on the witness stand," she said. "I had no idea Ross was going to go for the jugular like that."

"No," House said. "You were great. You went to bat for me."

"I tried…he kept twisting everything I said."

"As lawyers do," House said.

"Yeah."

"Anyway, I'm the one who should apologize. McElroy was a jackass."

"That wasn't your fault," Cuddy said. "And besides, you . . .rescued me. . . .you were chivalrous."

House looked down.

"He's a real big shot in that courtroom. Let him spend five minutes alone with you on a neutral playing field. You'd crush him like the cockroach he is."

"I was rather flustered," Cuddy admitted.

"You defended me," House said, looking at her.

"Always."

"Why did you defend me?"

"You already know why."

"I need to hear you say it."

"Because I still care about you, you idiot. What did the drunk man once say? 'Always have. Always will.'"

House perked up.

"So you got my voicemails?"

"You mean your drunken soliloquies?" she said, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "Yeah, I got them."

Then her voice grew serious: "I must've listened to that last phone call a hundred times, House, trying to figure out if it was a suicide threat. Asking myself if I could've done something to prevent what happened. I obsessed over it."

"I didn't mean to burden you with that," House said sincerely. "I guess I just needed to say good bye."

"I saved that message, too. Actually, I saved all your messages."

"And yet you never called back."

"No."

"I figured when I told you that Wilson was dying you'd . . ."

"What?"

"Want to console me."

"I did want to console you, House. I did. I just wasn't ready."

"And then you didn't come to my funeral."

"I mourned for you. In my own way," she said. "Believe me, I mourned."

Another long silence.

"I miss you," House said, blinking at her.

She closed her eyes.

"I miss you, too," she whispered.

"So now what?"

"Now you serve out the rest of your sentence— safely."

"And then?"

"And then. . ." she looked at him. "We try to be friends. again"

"We don't do friends," House said. "You know it and I know it. Hell, even frickin' Gus McElroy knows it. What did he call it? Folie a deux?"

"That was not a compliment," Cuddy said.

"I know. But it's true. It's us. Maybe it is a kind of madness. But it's a good kind of madness. Please let me come visit you and Rachel when I get outta here," he said. A tiny bit of desperation had crept into his voice.

She sighed.

"House. . ."

"Please tell me there's a chance I can be with you again…Please tell me there's a chance I can touch you again… Please tell me there's a chance I can make love to you again. . . Please, it's the only thing that'll keep me going in this miserable hellhole."

He reached out and took her hand. Much to his relief, she didn't pull away.

Her tiny hand. In his.

"House, I can't make any promises," she said.

"So there's a chance?" he said, staring into her eyes.

"Yes," she nodded. "A chance."

"A chance is all I need."

Just then, the guard came into the visiting room.

"Time's up, House," he said.

Cuddy reluctantly let go of House's hand.

They stared at each other.

"You gonna be okay?" she asked.

"You kidding me?" he said. "This is the happiest I've been in three years."

THE END