A/N: I know, I swore I'd never do this-but it's Sydney's birthday, and this was her request, so voila! I struggled with this a bit, so I hope it works. I hope you all enjoy it, and happy birthday to my little nugget partypantscuddy! You're swell, kid.

October

"You're unbelievable," said House, gently nudging a half-asleep Cuddy. She tugged on his t-shirt, her head pressed into the side of his chest, sighing as she did so. "I slave away for hours making dinner for you—"

"We ordered in," she retorted, her eyes still closed and her body still pressed against his.

House shrugged.

"You make me watch this movie—"

"It's Annie Hall," she interrupted, muttering as she buried her head into his side. "You love Woody Allen."

"And what do you do?" he asked, ignoring her as he gently tapped her curled up thighs. "You fall asleep."

"I'm not asleep," she said, a yawn escaping her lips as she spoke. "They just cooked the lobsters."

House scoffed.

"That was an hour ago."

Cuddy paused.

"Oh," she answered, slightly embarrassed as she readjusted herself. She opened her eyes and stretched, letting out a yawn as she sat up. "I'm sorry," she said, placing her hand on his forearm and gripping it gently. "I'm exhausted. I never thought today was going to end."

House nodded. She'd had meeting after meeting, gone head to head with their Insurance Company, covered the empty shifts in the clinic, put out a fire in the oncology ward—an actual fire, that is. House had tried to prank Wilson, and it had gone terribly wrong. She'd stomped into his office in five-inch heels, a fire extinguisher perched on her hip and a less than thrilled look plastered on her face—he certainly didn't help matters when he pointed out that she had dried expellant in her hair.

He almost made up for it when he convinced Wilson to let Rachel spend the night at his house.

Cuddy yawned again.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she continued, her eyes flicking over to the movie that was now practically over. "I've been tired for days."

House shrugged.

"I know what wrong with you," he said, looking over at her. She raised her eyebrows and gave him an expectant look. "You're pregnant," he said flatly.

Cuddy's eyes widened and she shook her head. She'd missed her period last month, but she chocked it up to stress and moved on—the clinic was under inspection for reaccreditation and her mother was planning a trip for the end of the month—and with her age and the type of birth control she was on, a missing period wasn't uncommon.

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him.

"That's absurd."

House gave her a skeptical look.

"You went off your birth control for a week when you got sick at the end of last month," he reminded her. "And if you recall, we didn't exactly stop having sex."

She shook her head.

"I can't get pregnant, House. Remember? It was a whole ordeal," she said, gesturing with her arms and pointing between the two of them.

"You're telling me you haven't noticed that your boobs are spilling out of your bra?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes and settled back into the couch. She turned her head towards him.

"Bras shrink, House. I'm not pregnant," she said definitively.

"Wanna bet?" he asked. He flicked off the tv and shifted so he was facing her. He smirked, and she rolled her eyes because he looked so damn sure of himself.

"You're serious?" Cuddy folded her arms across her chest and sat up, giving him a perplexed shrug. He nodded.

"Why not? We'll go to the hospital, draw some blood, run the test, and we'll have our answer. Simple."

"It's not…simple," she retorted, her brow furrowing as she straightened up. "Why are you being so calm about this?"

"I've had a few weeks to come to terms with it. Don't worry," he said, patting her thigh condescendingly as he smiled mockingly at her. "You'll catch up with me eventually.

"House…"

He paused.

"You can't change the outcome, Cuddy," he said, his voice softening. "Well you can, but some frown on it and I'm betting that's not really an option for you, considering everything—" she glared at him, wordlessly cutting him off. He nodded. "You either are or you aren't. Hundred bucks says you are."

She rolled her eyes.

"You're infuriating," she said, getting up from the couch and grabbing her purse from the coffee table. She dug through her bag and tossed him the keys.

He smirked.

And before they went to bed that night, she placed a hundred dollar bill on the nightstand.

November

"Want to go in?" House asked, nodding his head in the direction of the children's boutique. He had his arm wrapped around Cuddy's waist, and she sighed, turning her head apprehensively.

"I don't know," she said tentatively, placing her hand on her stomach. "I don't want to jinx anything."

House rolled his eyes. Initially, Cuddy was thrilled at the news of being pregnant. But slowly, over time, she'd become a nervous wreck; she was convinced that the pregnancy wasn't going to last, and that they—especially her—should be prepared for the worst. She hadn't told her mother or Julia yet, and she'd instructed House not to tell Wilson. But the congratulatory looks he'd been giving her at the hospital told her that House had ignored her requests.

"Buying a onesie does not a jinxer make," he said, nudging her mockingly.

Cuddy sighed.

"Do you want to go in?"

He shrugged.

He'd been doing a pretty good job of concealing his emotions from her; he was excited at first, but she couldn't tell if it was because of the baby or if it was the satisfaction of being right. He wasn't aloof, but he wasn't overjoyed, either. He was simply handling it. And strangely enough, it was comforting.

"I don't care about any of this crap," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You're pushing the kid out, you decide what it wears."

Cuddy sighed. She wasn't showing and they didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl, but as she peeked her head inside she caught sight of a baby display that reminded her of when Rachel was a baby. She ran her thumb across her stomach.

"I guess it can't hurt to look."

House nodded and led her inside.

He lingered towards her side while she tentatively moseyed around the store, not daring to touch anything. She was fiddling with the jewelry on her hand, suddenly thankful that she'd slid on her dangly bangles and stackable rings that morning; the distraction was more than welcome as she took timid steps.

She reached out to touch a baby blanket, but drew her hand back at the last second.

"Cuddy," House said firmly, drawing her back with his voice. She sighed and turned towards him. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head, embarrassed. She cast her eyes towards the ground and folded her arms over her chest. "Let's just go."

"Okay, see I think you've got the roles reversed. I'm the one who is supposed to be forced to go into these stores and watch as you get excited over anything that's remotely soft and or fuzzy. I'll feign boredom or irritation, you'll try to engage me into participating and guilt me into excitement, and at the end of the day one of us is holding a onesie and getting overly emotional. My money is on you, by the way."

Cuddy sighed, placing her hand on the sleeve of his shirt. She led him to the corner of the store, her eyes down as she spoke.

"I'm just—"she closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair; he nodded towards her, encouraging her to continue, "This didn't work out so well for me the last time," she confessed, the fear evident in her voice. "What if—what if the same thing happens again? I can't do this, House."

"Sure you can," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You do it all the time. Beat the odds, that is."

She gave him a weak smile.

"What if we're not ready?" she asked meekly. "Raising a child is a huge responsibility. It's going to change everything. What about Rachel? How is she going to react? I better get ready for the "Where's my Daddy" questions, because you better believe that's the first thing she's going to ask."

House sighed as she continued to ramble.

"And what about you?" she asked, whispering as her face softened. "This isn't what you wanted," she said, placing her hand on his forearm. "And I can't ask you to be a part of something that you don't want…forcing you into this isn't going to work."

He rolled his eyes.

"You're not forcing me into this. I don't recall ever saying no, you can't have my sperm!" Cuddy rolled her eyes at his lightheartedness. "You can't plan everything, Cuddy. You wanted a baby years ago and you didn't get it. There are plenty of things that I want but I can't have. A functioning leg, for example. This is just another one of those things that life has thrown at us."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes.

"You're equating me being pregnant with you losing the functioning in your leg?"

House groaned.

"That's not what I meant," he said, aggravated by her misconstruing of his words. "All I'm saying is that you can't analyze everything. You can't be prepared for something like this. It happens and you deal with it. It's life, Cuddy."

"So you're dealing with it?" she asked, unfolding her arms and taking his hand in hers. He ran his thumb across her palm.

"Trying to," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You're taking the fun out of it, though."

She let out a weak laugh.

"I'm scared, House," she admitted. "Of everything. Of carrying this child to term, of raising it, of me freaking out, of you freaking out, of—I'm just scared of it all. And I don't know if I can do this. But I think, maybe, if we try hard enough, we can do this. If you want to."

He nodded.

"I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else."

She smiled widely at him and leaned up, pressing her lips to his for a gentle kiss.

And later on, as he watched her roam around the store in a nervously excited state, he saw her pick up a onesie. Her fingers traced imaginary lines on the soft material, her breath hitching as imagined what their life would be like seven months from now. And he didn't say anything when he saw a tear run down her cheek, because there was one running down his as well.

December

"So I'm going to have a baby?"

Rachel Cuddy tilted her head to the right, her newly grown teeth poking out from underneath her lip as she gave her mother a confused look. House rolled his eyes as the little girl sat cross-legged, her chin resting in the palm of her hands and her fingers tapping against her cheek.

Cuddy let out a slight laugh.

"No, sweetie. I'm going to have the baby. You're going to be its big sister."

Rachel nodded and blew a strand of her brown hair out of her face.

"How come you and House are allowed to have a baby but I'm not allowed to have a puppy?"

House scoffed. Rachel had been begging for a puppy for weeks now; Cuddy assumed it would blow over eventually, but the three year old was adamant about getting a pet.

"Because we're adults. You on the other hand, still sleep in footie pajamas and think chocolate milk is the end all be all beverage. You don't want a puppy, kid. You don't want a baby, either. They're gross."

Rachel giggled and sat up straight, uncrossing her legs.

"Was I gross?" she asked, causing Cuddy to roll her eyes; Rachel was also at the age where she thought snot was funny.

House nodded.

"The grossest. Snot and spit up everywhere, not to mention the crying. You were a pro-crier. Always knew just the right moment to really let those tears loose," he teased.

Rachel beamed triumphantly.

"If babies are gross why do people want them?" she wondered out loud, her head tilting to the side once more.

Cuddy smiled.

"Because," she began, taking her little girl's hands in hers and moving them up and down, "they grow up to be sweet little toddlers just like you. And you get to see them take their first step, and speak their first word, and watch as they grow up. And you," she said, squeezing her daughter's hand, "you get the best job of all."

"What's that?" she asked excitedly.

"You get to be the baby's best friend. You'll look out for each other, just like House and I do."

"Will we fight like you too?"

Cuddy let out a slight laugh.

"Probably more," she answered. "But you'll love each other. Just like how we love you."

"Sounds like a big job," Rachel said, sighing nervously as she bit down on her bottom lip. "What if I'm bad at it?"

"Don't worry, kid," House interjected. "You'll be fine. You're bound to screw up at some point, but it won't matter, because everybody screws up. You just can't quit, okay? That's the worst thing you could do."

Cuddy sat in silence, watching as House interacted with her daughter, opening up to her in a roundabout way; he was giving her advice while simultaneously hinting at his own fears.

Rachel nodded and held out her pinkie towards House, gesturing for him to take it. He rolled his eyes before begrudgingly lacing his pinkie through hers. Their interlocked hands shook and Rachel giggled before looking over at Cuddy.

"Mommy," she said, crawling over to where Cuddy sat. She placed her tiny hands on Cuddy's knees. "Do you think it could be a baby dinosaur? I've always wanted a dinosaur."

"Sorry, your mom won't let me. I tried to check the dinosaur box, but she insisted on a tiny little human instead," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Rachel sighed.

"That's okay I guess. Maybe we can just name it Pterodactyl instead."

Cuddy let out a slight laugh and kissed her daughter on the forehead, muttering something along the lines of how they would absolutely not be naming the baby Pterodactyl before getting up to leave.

And later that night, when she was snuggled up against House, her arm draped across his chest and her head resting in the crook of his shoulder, Cuddy looked over at House and said:

"I don't want you to worry. You're going to make a great dad."

"How do you know?" he asked, his fingers running up and down her arm, stroking it lightly. He rested his hand at her elbow and she closed her eyes, sighing as she inched closer towards him.

"Because you already are one."

February

"This is the second one you've missed, House," she accused, fuming as she shook her head to the side and rooted around in her desk, looking for a distraction. "How do you think that looks?"

"I think it looks like the father of your baby has a very busy schedule, most of which involves saving lives. I don't always have time to go stare at a picture of a bunch of clumped up cells."

Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"I'm five months pregnant, House. That excuse won't work anymore." She sighed, her shoulders dropping as she looked up. "Is this your way of telling me that you're out? Because if that's the case, could you maybe be a little more upfront about it? I'm too exhausted to try and figure out all of your hidden meanings."

"You know that's not it," he said softly, looking her up and down. "I got held up with the case, that's all. It won't happen again."

Cuddy nodded.

"Good," she said. A small smile escaped her lips. "You want to see the picture?"

House eyed her skeptically. Usually when he missed one of these, Cuddy refused to let him even glance at it, claiming that if he really wanted to see it, he would have shown up in the first place.

And he smirked, because that could only mean one thing.

"You can't see it, can you?"

Cuddy's eyes widened.

"That's not what I said."

He smirked.

"Did you have to pretend to see it again when the technician turned the monitor towards you? Because if that's the case, I really am sorry that I missed it."

Cuddy sighed.

"I'm so glad one of us is taking enjoyment out of this," she muttered. "I saw it eventually," she clarified, "just not…right away. You owe Wilson fifty bucks, by the way."

House groaned.

"What for?"

Cuddy smiled.

"You lost the bet. We're having a girl."

House smiled and pulled out his wallet, thinking that he'd never been so happy to lose a bet in his entire life.

May

"This is all your fault," she accused, groaning as she tried to make herself comfortable. "We are never having sex again. Ever."

House rolled his eyes. "You said that last week," he mused, flipping through a medical journal. "If you recall, it didn't last very long."

"Shut up," she said, her eyes closing as she moved on to her side, her arm resting underneath her head. She winced as she felt the baby kick, reaching for House's hand as quickly as she could. "She's doing it again," Cuddy said excitedly.

House rolled his eyes.

"She does it all the time," he said, doing his best to pretend that he wasn't interested in his daughter's movements. But he let his thumb traipse above Cuddy's navel and she watched as a slight smile escaped his lips. "Maybe she'll be a soccer player."

"Or a ballerina," Cuddy said, smiling down at her stomach. House rolled his eyes. "While we're here," Cuddy said, yawning softly as she stretched out a bit. "We should probably talk about baby names."

House shrugged.

"We have plenty of time," he argued, not wanting to have the discussion that was undoubtedly going to turn into an argument. Things of this nature rarely ever went smoothly—he thought picking out a crib had been difficult enough.

"I'm due in less than a month," she pointed out, raising her eyebrows at him. "We've avoided the subject long enough, House."

House sighed as he cast his journal aside, sitting up and turning his head towards her.

"Fine. But I'm only doing this if both of us get full veto power."

"Fine," Cuddy agreed, a sly grin forming on her lips. "I'll say a name and then you say a name. Deal?"

He nodded.

"Olivia."

"Sounds too much like Olive," he said shaking his head. "Angelina."

"As in Jolie? I don't think so," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "Eloise?"

"Do I look like someone who would have a child named Eloise?" he asked, scoffing at the thought. Cuddy let out a slight laugh. "Emma?"

Cuddy shrugged.

"Kind of plain. What about Jane?"

"You just vetoed Emma for being plain and now you're suggesting Jane? Your hormones are messing with your judgment. Alexandra?"

"It's pretty, but there are too many possible nicknames. People will automatically shorten it to Alex or Alexa or worse Lexi, and she'll have no say in the matter. How about Miranda?"

House shook his head. "Diane?"

Cuddy scrunched up her nose.

"She'll sound like a thirty-five year old when she's three. Claire?"

"Too many clairvoyant jokes. Scarlett?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "You're just naming Woody Allen muses, aren't you?

House smirked. "I figured that was better than going through my list of hooker names."

She shoved him playfully in the shoulder. "Fine, " he continued. "What about Hailey?"

Cuddy shook her head and lifted her eyes towards him.

"That will clash with her last name," she said, her eyes locking with his. She reached her hand over towards his and took it, squeezing it gently. They hadn't really discussed what her last name would be, but Cuddy had known from the minute she'd found out she was pregnant—this wasn't just her baby, it was theirs. "Hailey House doesn't really work, does it?"

House gulped. He thought back to the night she'd found out she was pregnant; he was scared and confused, and a little bit excited, but seeing her face light up as she got the results brought him to this strange sense of calm; it wasn't going to be easy, but it was going to be okay.

He looked over at Cuddy. Her hair was falling in front of her face and her eyes fluttered as she grew more tired, even though it was barely past nine. And he smiled, because this was the exact position they had been in eight months ago.

"What about Annie?"

Cuddy smiled, her thoughts going back to that night. She didn't say a word. Instead, she leaned forward, pressed her lips against his, and drifted off to sleep.

June

She didn't know why she was surprised. She was having Gregory House's baby—of course it would want to make a grand entrance.

She'd noticed a little bit of bleeding after a meeting with the board with noon. She had her assistant admit her to the hospital and then she'd paged House, who was doing his best to appear calm—the bleeding hadn't stopped yet and she'd started to experience some severe stomach pain. The plan was to keep the bleeding under control and wait for Cuddy to go into labor, but time was running out and House was getting anxious.

Initially she was against the idea of having a C-section, but she knew that considering her age, it was a high possibility. Now, it seemed like the only option.

"Listen to me," Cuddy said, taking his hand into hers. "If I die in there—"

"Don't," he interrupted, shaking his head, unable to find the words to finish the sentence.

"If I die in there," she repeated, gripping his hand even harder, "you have to promise me that you won't hate her because of it. It won't be her fault. It will just be one of those things that life has thrown at us."

"Cuddy," he said softly.

"Promise me," she pleaded.

He sighed, running his thumb across the top of her hand.

"I could never hate anything that was a part of you."

Cuddy didn't have time to respond. The blood started to pool around her, and she could feel the room spinning as the surgeons wheeled her out of the room and into the OR as quickly as possible. House limped behind them, barking out orders that no one was paying attention to. He pulled out his phone and called Wilson, ordering him to get his team and meet him in the OR gallery—Forbes had already told him that he wasn't allowed to be in the room during the surgery.

He watched as they rushed Cuddy into the OR, sighing as they issued her the anesthesia and cringing as the metal blade sliced into her stomach. Wilson walked into the gallery and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, a gesture he acknowledged with a curt nod. He turned towards his team, who were standing there with nervous looks on their faces, unsure of what it was that they could—or should—do.

They all turned towards the screen when they heard the sound of a monitor flatlining. A surgeon was carrying a tiny baby towards an examination table on the side, while another team of surgeons huddled around Cuddy, hanging bag after bag and pushing drug after drug.

House banged on the window but nobody answered.

"What the hell is going on in there?" he barked, banging his fist on the window.

"We've got it under control, House," Forbes called, yelling into the microphone. "You need to stay where you are."

House clenched his fist even tighter. Wilson gave him a warning look, but House ignored him, dropping his cane to the floor and rushing out the gallery doors as quickly as possible.

"You and I seem to have very different ideas of what 'being under control' means," House said, busting through the doors to the OR.

But the minute he stepped through the doors, the sound of crying filled the room.

"I told you we had it under control, House," yelled Forbes, reaching for an oxygen bag and placing it over Cuddy's face. She pumped the oxygen through the bag, but Cuddy's vitals had yet to improve.

"One out of two Cuddys is not good enough!" he said, exasperated as he frantically looked around.

Two surgeons and three nurses tended to his daughter; they were checking her vitals and cleaning her off, making sure everything was okay before handing her over to House. But Cuddy was lying on the metal table, unconscious and barely alive while her daughter was taking her first breaths.

He grabbed the paddles before anyone could stop him. He shoved everyone out of his way, pressing the paddles onto Cuddy's chest as quickly as possible. He watched her chest rise and fall in tandem with the current, simultaneously cursing and praying to every god that he didn't believe in while he tried to revive her. The surgeons exchanged worried glances after the fourth shock, but he eventually heard what quickly became his second favorite sound: the slow beeping of the monitor.

His favorite was the sound of Annie crying for the first time.

"You're a little troublemaker," House said, cradling the baby in his arms. "Not that there was really any doubt, but you are definitely my spawn. Alive for thirty seconds and already giving your mother a heart attack. I'm almost impressed."

"Maybe that should be her middle name," said Cuddy groggily, stirring in the uncomfortable hospital bed as the anesthesia slowly wore off.

House's face softened. "You're awake."

Cuddy nodded, a weak smile on her face as she sat up. House slowly walked over to her, sitting down at the edge of the bed and gently placing Annie in Cuddy's arms. "Now don't be alarmed, but I just want to warn you that Annie and I have gotten really acquainted over the past couple of hours. So don't be too upset if I'm the favorite parent from here on out."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Shut up, House," she said, beaming as she took her baby into her arms. Annie reached her tiny hand up, her fingers latching on to the material of Cuddy's hospital gown.

House sighed and inched closer towards Cuddy, his hand reaching out towards the both of them. He gently took Annie's foot in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it and running his thumb over her soft skin.

"Caroline," he said softly. "That should be her middle name. I'd say we could just use Cuddy, but I know how you feel about hyphenated names. And I can already tell she's going to be just like you."

Cuddy let out a slight smile. "You think so?"

He nodded. "If she knows what's good for her."

Cuddy lifted her head up, an unapologetically wide smile on her face and a tear running down her cheek. House let out a slight laugh and leaned forward, pushing a sweaty curl off of her forehead and pressing his lips against her skin.

"House," she whispered, her eyes locking with his as she cradled their daughter in her arms. "Thank you for saving my life."

He smiled down at her and ran his hand across Annie's cheek.

"Thanks for giving me one."

Let me know what you think. Sydney, I hope you enjoyed this! :)

-Alison