Why Can't I Stop Thinking?

By HotlipsPierce

A/N: Just a little look inside the mind of Cuddy. If you couldn't tell, the italics are thoughts…and it's pretty much all in italics.

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING.

Enjoy.

"Someone like you?"

"Someone you like."

Someone I like? What the hell does that mean? Someone I like. I don't have time to make a baby with someone I like. Ugh, idiot. Why do I trust House with personal stuff like this? I'm always doing this. Always have been. Probably always will.

Get out of the exam room, Lisa. Someone's going to notice eventually that the Dean of Medicine is hanging in places where she isn't supposed to be. Kind of ironic that I'm the one doctor it'd be weird to see in an exam room. Wait; don't close the door yet. Turn off the light first. Energy bills are already high enough around here.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – the idiocy of Gregory House. Someone I like. Huh, the lot that that he knows. If Wilson had said no, or if I hadn't chickened out, his "dinner" would have been next. Of course, he would have made a joke of it, obviously. Told the whole goddamn city, I'm sure. Then he would have declared in some outrageous fashion that, no, he was too good to make babies with Satan. And yet, he has the nerve to critique the personalities of the anonymous donors I choose.

How did he do that anyway? I should call and let the cryo-bank know that they have a major security leak on their hands.

Damn it, where's my key? Ah, there it is. Maybe I should get a hide-a-key for the office, too. A fake rock outside my door would be a little too obvious, though. Even so, it doesn't matter what I do – House will find it. Oh, that reminds me. New motto – Before you sit down, make sure House ain't around.

I hate paperwork. I don't want to do paperwork. I shouldn't have to do paperwork; I just got a shot. I'm not going to do paperwork right now. I'm just going to sit here for a while and be alone with my thoughts. Except that I'm always alone with my thoughts. I'm always alone, period. Except if this thing works out, I won't be alone ever again. Is that why I want to bring a life into this world? To make me a little less lonely? Well, no, because that's a stupid reason. I want to be a mom. That's all – I just want to be a mom. You know, that reasoning wouldn't be in question if I was having a baby with someone I was in a relationship with.

And now we're back to Idiot's stupid comment. Someone I like. Who do I like?

House.

Hey! Who said that?

Wonderful, Lisa. Now you're accusing yourself of doing things as a group. God, you need a boyfriend.

You need House.

STOP IT! Don't make me turn this brain around!

Now that didn't even make sense, and you know it. Get back to the topic at hand.

Right - topic at hand. Who do I want to have a baby with? If I'm being honest with myself, I don't really want to have a baby like this. I want my child to know his or her father, at least in some way. That's why Wilson was so logical. Lord knows he would help out in the pregnancy, and he'd definitely be there for the baby. It's against the man's nature to be a deadbeat dad.

So why didn't I ask?

Because you really want House.

I swear to God, if you say that again…

You're right. I won't bring up that dream you had last night.

What dream?

You know, the one with you and the little girl with the big blue eyes and the bouncy brown curls and the hot, sexy, limping Greg House she called 'Daddy'. That one.

I plead the fifth.

No, you don't.

Why not?

Because you're talking to yourself, stupid! You don't get constitutional rights when you're talking to yourself!

That's just silly. Someone should change that. I should write my congressman.

Oh, I can't wait to see that letter: "Dear Senator, my mind and I decided…"

Okay, okay, shut up. Back to baby daddy.

Just ask House. He's been so good the past couple days. He didn't Wilson about your secret agenda. He didn't tell anybody! He's helped you with your injections without question. And he does really care about who you choose. He wouldn't break into the sperm bank records for just anybody. He wants to father your child; he's just too stubborn to ask. Besides, how do you slip information like that into polite conversation?

There is no such thing as polite conversation with House. But, stupid subconscious, you're right. He's the one. Goddamn it, he's the one. Now, how do I slip that into polite conversation?

Go up to his office and ask. No, not ask – declare. Don't be weak about it – he can smell weakness a mile away. Like a lion. Roar.

But, wait…what am I doing? Am I asking for a donation or for sex? Maybe both just to be on the safe side? House and I have had sex before. Really wouldn't mind having it again.

And is he going to be there for this little bundle of joy? Should he be?

Well, we'll never know if we don't get our ass out of this chair, will we?

Hold on - ask now? What if he's busy? What if he's…hey, who's that? Oh, it's Cameron. She's got a file. She's saying something. Cured the girl. Fungus. Super. Special, even. Get the hell out of my office, missy.

Right. Gone. All right. House is definitely no longer busy. Get up, Lisa. Let's go. March out the door. Come on – right, left, right, left. GO!

Okay, made it out of the office. Now, stairs or elevator? Take the stairs. Moving keeps you from thinking. And yet you're still thinking. Whatever, here we go, up the stairs. One more flight.

I can ask him, yes I can. If I can't ask him, no one can! Actually, Cameron probably would. Maybe even Chase, if that was physically possible. Definitely not Foreman.

Whoa, where am I? Just outside House's office. Oh, look at him sitting there. God, he's gorgeous. The only thing that would make him hotter would be a British accent. If House was from England, I would drop my panties right here and now, no doubt about it.

Now would be the time to walk through the door so he doesn't think you're a freak. He already does, but that's beside the point. Congratulations, Lisa Cuddy, you have made it to the desk of the future father of your child.

Why aren't you talking?

Say it. "House, please be the father of my child." Say it.

SAY IT!

"Thank you for the injections." Dipshit. That wasn't in the script.

"You're welcome." Oh, good. He has a few manners. Fathers should have manners.

Hey, hey, hey, why are we turning around? Stop, Lisa. You forgot something…

"You came all the way up here just to tell me that?"

Tell him, Lisa. Tell him how you want to have a baby with him. "No." Good girl, back on track. No, would you stop walking? You've left the office. What the hell?

What the hell, indeed? I almost asked a department head, an employee, if he wanted to father my child. Oh. My. God. Maybe I really do need help.

But he's the one.

But he's House.

But he's the one.

Oh, God, why can't I stop thinking?