House was limping towards his bike when he saw the policewoman next to it, writing a ticket.

"Hey! You're not writing a ticket are you!" he exclaimed.

"Its handicap parking only," was the reply.

"Well, duh! What do you think I need this cane for," despite the words House kept the sarcasm out of his voice. He didn't want a ticket and the woman, Officer C. Brown according to her badge, was not bad looking – and maybe the crisp autumn weather had mellowed him a bit. Skies were clear, trees were colourful and his leg didn't pain him that much this morning.

"This is your bike!?" she asked noting the cane and the limp.

"Yep. Don't need to be able to walk to ride you know," House replied giving her the benefit of his most charming smile.

"Ok, if you say so," the officer conceded and put away her pad and pen.

"I do. Thank you officer Brown," House said standing next to his bike. He attached his bag to the bike slowly considering his chances of chatting up the attractive cop. Foreman would have a stroke! Before he made up his mind, though, he heard a strange sound from the alley just behind him. "What was that?"

"That sound," she had heard it, too, "a kitten?"

"No, I don't think so," House doubted and started to walk into the alley. He couldn't see anything but then he heard something again and located the sound to a dumpster near the entrance. Though the sound was kind of a mewing sound, it did not really sound feline to him. He went to the dumpster and opened the lid. He stared. "Help me with this lid, I need both my hands."

Puzzled the cop got to his side and took the lid from him. "Oh Hell!" she exclaimed as she looked into the dumpster. "It's a baby! How...?"

House reached into the dumpster and lifted the baby girl into his arms. "Take a look around, the mother may be near as well," he instructed the stunned woman.

"Zonked out, no doubt," she muttered.

"More likely dead or dying," House said wryly. "Check for blood stains as well. The baby is full term and normal size so I don't believe we have a crack baby in our hands."

Officer Brown gave him a sceptical glance but she checked the alley anyway, finding nothing. She shook her head in denial when she got back to House, who was checking the baby's breathing and pulse. "I'm calling this in and I'll ask for an ambulance as well," she told him.

"No need for an ambulance. Her pulse and breathing are both steady, a little weak, but her only problem seems to be early stages of hypothermia. She cannot have been here longer than an hour, probably less. She may have problems later, but right now what she needs is warmth and food and I can take her to PPTH quicker than if we wait for an ambulance."

"You're a doctor?" C. Brown asked, feeling certain that the answer was going to be in affirmative.

"Yes. Dr. Greg House, head of Diagnostics in PPTH. I'll take our kitten into the NICU there. Front desk of the clinic will know how to find us both when you need to. Do you have a knife?"

"Knife?" though she didn't comprehend the reason for that question she nevertheless, reached into her pocket and produced a switchblade. House took it from her and then placed the baby in her arms. "So if this is not about drugs, where do you think the mother is then?" C. Brown asked once she had called for help.

"Probably dead, unless she got incredibly lucky. The baby is full term, shows no signs of malnutrition so it's more than likely that the mother had proper prenatal care. My guess is that this is an honour killing – not that there is much honour in it." House mused. "Too bad I really liked this T-shirt," he said opening his jacket and shirt and applying the blade to the neck of his T-shirt. He ripped it open about a third of the way. Once he had put the knife away he reached for the naked baby and slid her carefully under his clothes and against his warm skin. He closed his shirt and jacket making sure she had room to breath but was still secure enough to stay in place. Then he returned the knife to Officer Brown. "Now, before I go, tell me what that C. stands for?" House asked taking his cane and starting for his bike.

"It stands for Cyd and you are not riding your bike with a baby under your shirt."

"But it would be so cool!"

"Forget it. I'll drop you off and come back here. Once I'm done, I'll bring your bike to you, since I need to talk to you anyway."

--------------------

They got to the hospital within five minutes. House stepped out of the car and limped inside at his best speed. He had already reached the lifts when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"House, you are late for your clinic duty," Dr. Cuddy said in her best don't-mess-with-me voice.

"I'm with a patient," House threw at her over his shoulder.

"Of course you are," Cuddy humoured him sarcastically, "and the reason I cannot see her, is because she is hiding under your coat."

"Oh, shucks, Cuddy," House turned to face her, "nothing escapes those sharp eyes of yours!"

The said eyes went wide in shock! Cuddy couldn't believe what she was seeing. House had a baby under his coat. A baby!

"A baby!" she gasped, "You have a baby under your coat!"

"I told you I had a patient," House stepped into the lift which arrived just in time, "got to go now!"

He didn't make his escape quite that easily, though. Stunned Cuddy might have been, but she still had the command of her legs and she stepped into the lift right after him. And as if that wasn't enough, just when the doors were about to close they heard someone run for the lift and Cameron got in as well. She was just about to greet the other occupants of the lift when she saw the baby and she ended up standing there with her mouth open and her eyes wide.

"No, Cameron, an alien has not suddenly burst through my chest," House explained with exaggerated patience. "It is a baby. A baby girl to be precise."

"I would like to know whose baby," Cuddy finally got her voice back.

"So would I," was the infuriating answer she received.

"You must know whose she is. You cannot have just randomly picked up a baby from somewhere!" Cameron exclaimed.

"But that is exactly what I did," House claimed stepping out of the lift that had just stopped at the desired floor. Without a pause he walked towards the NICU. Chase, whom he had called from the parking lot as soon as he arrived, was waiting for him at the door. Though Chase had been summoned, he had not been told why and he stared with equal astonishment at House and his entourage – especially the baby.

"Where did you get a baby from?" he asked.

"Found her in a dumpster," House finally revealed, though he got three very sceptical looks for his trouble. "Really, I did. I even have a witness." He gave Cameron his cane and then took the baby carefully from under his T-shirt. "Here, Chase, take Sanura and check her out. You need to get her DNA for identification purposes as well."

"House, stop right there and tell me what is going on!" Cuddy had had enough.

"Fine. I was about to get a parking ticket when the Officer and I both heard some strange noise from a nearby dumpster. At first we thought it might be a kitten, but the sound was not quite right. On investigation we found this baby girl inside. Officer Brown took over the crime scene and I came here with the baby. And that's it!" House explained. "Oh, and I need to let the front desk know that cops want to talk to me in connection to that. They will also need the DNA results, so don't screw up Chase."

"Dumpster?" Cameron was shocked, "who would throw a baby in a dumpster!"

"Well, you never know what drug addicts might do, though she doesn't look like a crack baby," Chase pointed out. "At least all the crack babies I've seen are smaller and usually premies. I'm fairly sure this one is a full term baby."

"That would be my estimate as well," House said as they walked with Chase inside to examine the baby. "I don't think you will find much wrong with her, except for the slight hypothermia and she warmed up quite a bit under my shirt on the way here."

"Body heat is the gentlest way to warm up someone suffering from hypothermia," Cuddy agreed.

"But if you found her in the dumpster," Cameron just couldn't let go, "how do you know her name?"

"Name?" House repeated. "You mean Sanura? I don't think she has a name unless her mother named her in the womb, which is of course quite possible. But I called her Sanura because it means kitten in Egypt. She has been through quite a lot for someone who is only an hour or so old and I think she deserves better than to be called Jane Doe number whatever."

"So what do you think is her story, then, if not drugs," Chase asked as he worked on the baby.

"It's always difficult to tell from a baby if she is of mixed ethnicity, but judging by the skin colour and hair, I think her mother may be from India or Pakistan. As the baby's eyes are blue for now, I think she fell in love with the wrong man, possibly an all-American boy, and run away from her family. Looks like they found her just as she went into labour or had just given birth and they killed her and exposed the child. In some cultures death is the only cure to perceived dishonour. I am, of course, just guessing, but I'm fairly sure the best place to look for her mother is the morgue, unless she got lucky and someone got her to an ER in time."

"That's horrible!" Cameron exclaimed, "To kill someone just because she fell in love!"

"Actually I don't find that as horrible as killing someone just because she got raped," House said dryly, earning a disgusted look from Cameron.

"Ok, peace, folks!" Cuddy intervened before things got ugly. She then turned to House, "you think this is an honour killing, then?"

"Cannot know for sure, but as the baby is full term, healthy and doesn't seem to suffer from malnourishment, that would be my first guess," House mused. "Sanura looks like her mother has had proper prenatal care, which would suggest that there has been no secrecy about it, nor any attempts to terminate the pregnancy early so the usual reasons for abandoning a baby don't seem to apply: rape, incest or an attempt to hide it from family and friends. Of course, it could be a kidnap attempt gone wrong, revenge, mental problems... the list is endless."

"But if you are right in assuming that her mother is from Pakistan, then honour killing would top that list," Chase pondered.

"Why?" Cuddy wondered.

"Pakistan is near the top of the list on countries with most honour killings in the world," Chase revealed his knowledge. "They don't even think it's a crime. Women get murdered by their relatives or husbands for mere suspicions. If the husband thinks his wife could be unfaithful, he can kill her and there are hardly ever any adverse consequences to him."

"Too true," House agreed, "and just because you move from one country to another, does not mean you leave your culture and your beliefs behind. Of course, not all Pakistanis follow the old customs, but even a few is too many."

"That's horrible!" Cameron said.

"Yep, but maybe we were in time to save at least one victim," House agreed. "What do you think Chase? How's my kitten?"

"Looks good," Chase answered. "We'll keep her under observation, just in case she picked something from the dumpster, but I cannot see anything wrong with her that warmth and food wouldn't cure. You found her in time, House."

"Good, take care of her then," House said turning to leave, "I need to get in touch with the cops."

"Hey!" Chase called him before he got out of the door, "what name shall I write on her chart? Sanura Doe doesn't sound right somehow."

"Anything you want, she's your responsibility now!" was the answer.

"Fine," said Chase. He thought for a moment, mostly to gather his nerve and then he wrote a name on the chart: Sanura House.

--------

House got to the clinic about half an hour later – after a shower and having changed his T-shirt. When he got there he found Officer C. Brown waiting for him.

"How is she?" was her first question after greeting him.

"She is fine. It looks like we found her in time," House told her.

"You don't think she got anything from the garbage then?"

"Too soon to be sure, but I'm hopeful," was his answer.

"Good," she said. "I need your statement and an official update on her condition."

"Ok, I think we can use an exam room for that, unless you want me to come to the station?"

"I can take the statement here, but you need to come to the station to sign it. Tomorrow?"

"I'm sure I can make it," House agreed, "and we ought to have the DNA test ready soon. Will you wait for it, or shall I fax it?"

"If it's ready when we're done, I'll take it with me," Officer Brown said. "If not, you can either fax it, or bring it with you tomorrow. I don't think there is any hurry."

"No sign of the mother then?" House asked as he led her to an exam room.

"So far, no. I did tell them that you think it may have been an honour killing, given that the baby was full term, but that is just one option we are looking into."

"And it does not necessarily help with the search."

"True," she agreed, "especially if she was killed. The body may stay hidden for months, even years."

"That is unlikely," House said, "there is rarely any hiding of the body in those cases."

"You seem to know a lot about it?" C. Brown wondered.

"I may be a diagnostician, and I may not much care about the world around me, but that does not mean I'm not aware of it. Especially when it comes to the cruelty human beings are capable off."

"You don't have a very high opinion of humans, do you?" she asked.

"You're a cop. Tell me am I wrong in my opinion?"

"I still hold some shred of hope that it's not as bad as what I see in my work," she said ruefully.

"You're still young, then," was his dry comment.

"But you saved a baby today. You didn't have to pay heed to that odd sound, nor did you need to ruin a perfectly good T-shirt to warm her up," Cyd pointed out.

"I'm curious, I never leave anything alone – and I am a doctor," House said, "besides, what kind of life will she have without any family?"

"Little creature formed of joy and mirth, go love – without the help of anything on earth? Is that your position?"

"William Blake! Goodness," House said, "maybe there is hope for the world yet: a cop who can actually read!"

"Watch it mister!" she warned him, "I can still write you that ticket. Now can I have that statement or are we going to waste the whole afternoon bantering words?"

"I don't think that would be waste, but I suppose you are one of those conscientious people who actually believe that duty comes before fun."

"Damn straight."

----------

By the time House had finished his statement and escorted C. Brown out of the exam room the story of the "House Baby" was all over the hospital. Unsurprisingly Wilson was waiting for House at the front desk.

"I hear you have got yourself a daughter" Wilson smirked.

"What do you mean?" House asked. "Just because I found a baby does not mean I'm her new daddy."

"Well, I don't know about that, but I hear there is a new baby in the hospital with the name of Sanura House," Wilson announced gleefully.

"Sanura HOUSE?" House barked. "I'm going to kill Chase."

"I don't think you can do that," Wilson tried to reason, "I'm fairly sure wombats are an endangered species."

"If not yet, they soon will be!" House stated.

"Hey, don't knock it!" Wilson said. "The nurses are all taking turns in going to see the baby and cooing over her. They think it's so cute that you saved her and even named her. You are now in the enviable position to get any woman in this hospital you want!"

"Only you would think that is an enviable position!" House groused. "I'm not you. I don't want the complications that come from sleeping with the nurses. You sleep with them and then they think you shouldn't yell at them anymore and when they make a mistake and you do yell at them they get all huffy or tearful or both. Not worth the trouble. Hookers are much easier. You know what you get and without any added complications."

"Unless you count STDs," Wilson pointed out.

"That's why there are condoms. Besides its not just the working girls, who get those, you know," House advised him. "In fact, the hookers tend to be much more careful than the non-professionals."

"Well, you are the expert on hookers," Wilson had to admit. "But seriously, what is going to happen to your baby?"

"Sanura is not my baby," House stated firmly – though he had to admit to himself, that he did feel sort of proprietarily interest in her future. "Her future is in the hands of the cops and the social services. If they find the mother – dead or alive – they may find her father as well, hopefully alive and she may end up with him. If not, they'll find an adoptive family or foster care or whatever the child services think is best. Nothing really that concerns me."

"Do you think they will find the father?"

"If the mother was killed for marrying an inappropriate man – in her family's opinion, of course, he may well be looking for her and he may have already reported her as missing."

"But don't they have a 24 hour waiting period before they accept that she may actually be missing?" Wilson wondered.

"I think that is normally the case. But since she was pregnant when she went missing, it's possible that they start looking right away. I don't know. And in any case I'm fairly sure that for the mother it is too late, anyway."

"Why must you be such a pessimist?" Wilson huffed. "Couldn't you at least HOPE for a better outcome."

"Sorry, that's Cameron's department," House declined. "And contrary to your belief that much niceness is not contagious."

"Fine, I give up," Wilson sighed. "I'll just go and look at that baby of yours. If I'm lucky some of your hero-of-the-hour shine will rub off on me, too, as your best friend."

"Like you have any problems in getting laid all on your own!" House called after him.

----------

House was in his office when he got a phone call from Officer Brown.

"We may have found the mother."

"Dead or alive?" House asked.

"Alive for the moment," Cyd answered. "She was brought to the ER of Princeton General. It was a touch and go there, I believe, but they got her into the OR and she is now in the ICU. It's still a bit iffy, but she seems to be holding her own."

"What suggests that she is the mother?" House asked.

"She is from India or Pakistan, she has just given birth but there was no baby anywhere nears her, and she had three stab wounds when she was found."

"That does sound right along the lines of what we assumed having happened," House agreed. "Any sign of the father? Was the girl brought in alone or was there yet another victim?"

"She was alone, but she did have a wedding ring on her finger, so we are hopeful."

"Good. I'll fax the baby's DNA test to the Princeton General and they can find out if they are mother and daughter and then you'll go on from there."

"That's good." There was a little pause, then Cyd went on: "Is there any chance we ... well..."

"Probably not," House said with a little regret in his voice. "Not with both our jobs."

"Yeah. You are probably right. I'll just see you the next time you need a parking ticket, then."

------------------

Two weeks later House was in the clinic when a young couple came to see him. He was an all-American guy, blond hair, blue eyes built like a quarterback. She was petite, dark, had big brown eyes and raven dark hair. And with them was a two-week old baby.

"Dr. House," he said, "we wanted to thank you for saving our daughter."

"You're welcome," House said, feeling uncomfortable, as usual, when someone wanted to thank him.

"We are moving somewhere where my family cannot find me again," she said, "but before we left I wanted to see you and tell you that we kept the name."

"Name?" House asked.

"Sanura. We wanted her to know that even when my family rejected me and her in the worst possible way, when she was alone, and helpless and completely at the mercy of mere chance, somebody cared. Somebody found her important enough to give her a name of her own. Thank you."

The end.

Thanks for the reviews. The review n:r 12 was anonymous and therefore I couldn't answer it any other way, so here are some comments on the honour killing thing in this story. First of all I live in Europe and in my country there has been no coverage lately in the media on honour killings. I, however, am interested in the work of Amnesty International and the information is from their reports. This is a short story so I didn't go deeply into the matter, which always leaves things a little vague and unsatisfactory, but I did try to say that though old customs are still alive in many countries not all people in or from those countries (Pakistan in this instance) follow those customs. And yes, I'm very aware that women live in fear all over the world and for very different things, this is just one of them.