Title: Uncle Greg

Author: Mother Nature's Daughter; Sam

Summary: Gregory House is a lot of things: arrogant, sarcastic, rude, brilliant. The one thing he is not, however, is a babysitter to his young niece. But that doesn't stop his sister from forcing him into taking the girl to work with him while she's away. "She really did it. She stuck me with the little bugger…all day."

Rating: PG-13 for mild language

Author's Note: This is my first House story, but I worked hard on it and even got it beta'd, so I hope you won't find it too OOC. Also: I've been told that in canon House is actually an only child, so this is a little AU-ish, I suppose.

One more thing: This is a oneshot, but it actually ended up being too long to post at the same time. So I've split it into two parts—this is the first half of the story, and the rest will be posted in the next few weeks. Reviews are very much appreciated; constructive criticism more than welcome.

And a special shout out to the talented Jinxeh for beta-ing all of this; you rock my socks, girl!

-o0o-

Gregory House was not a people person. It just wasn't in his nature to be kind, loving, or portray any of that oh-so-heartwarming stuff that other people seemed so fond of. He was cold, and sometimes callous to his team of doctors, frequently came close to verbally abusing his best friend, and didn't even speak to his family.

Except for one member. Unfortunately.

House didn't want to have a relationship with his younger—and dreadfully annoying—sister, and he wanted to have a relationship with her seven-year-old daughter even less. The girl's father left them a long time ago; what happened, or why it happened, House didn't know, didn't care, and could only smile smugly that his theory about 'true love' proved true once again.

But that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that his five-year-younger sister, Natalie, refused to leave him alone. She lived a few hours away, across the state line, and was constantly trying to meet him for lunch or something…except, House didn't do lunch. He was a very busy at the hospital, after all.

At least, that's what he told her.

The other thing Natalie always tried to get him to do was to be a loving uncle to her daughter—House couldn't even remember her name: Lindsay, Lauren, Lexy—and instead of making up an excuse about work, he just flat out told her…no.

House was not a people person…but he was even less of a little children person.

-o0o-

It was completely dark outside on the cold winter morning. There were no streetlights on; no windows in any houses or apartments were lit, except for one.

The light in Gregory House's flat was on, and he was home. He always got up early, and this morning was no exception. It was eerily quiet, and usually nothing made any sound. But this morning was a bit different, because something did disturb him this morning—the phone rang, jolting him out of his bleary reverie as he sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He made a strange, unidentifiable noise to attest to his annoyance at this, and grabbed the telephone sitting on his desk none-too-gently.

"Who are you and why are you calling so early? Have a good reason or I'm hanging up now."

"Greg?"

House lowered the phone down from his ear, resisting the urge to groan. He almost hung up then and there, without even hearing the reason why his sister would be calling so early. He really wasn't in the mood to fight off another 'we should have lunch' or 'you need to drive down soon', he really wasn't...

"No," he said automatically when he brought the phone back to his ear.

"No lunch this time, Greg," Natalie Williams assured her brother. "I have to go out of town for work—"

"What do you do again? Dan—never mind."

"I'm a lawyer." Natalie sounded annoyed.

"Bet you don't save lives," House said. "I do."

"I'm not in the mood to fight with you, Greg. I have to go out of town to meet up with a client. The nanny that usually watches Laura is sick…"

"Oh, no." House knew what she was getting at. Why was she even bothering to ask him this, he wondered?

"…And it's only for today. I'll be back by tonight…"

"I won't do it."

"And...I need you to watch Laura for me."

"I knew it!" House declared. "But I won't do it."

"Greg," Natalie pleaded. "It's only one day."

"Well, then, if that's the case, I'll have to think about it for a minute," House told his sister. "…No."

"I have to go to this meeting, Greg," Natalie said from the other end of the line. "And Laura can't go with me. It'll only be for one day—I'll be back late tonight, I swear."

"So just give her a bag of chips, pop in a movie, and set her on your couch—there's a nine out of ten chance she'll still be there when you get home."

"She's seven, Greg!"

"Old enough to open the 'fridge if she gets hungry. Perfect."

"Gregory House." House assumed he was supposed to be intimidated by the use of his full name, but Natalie never could never really 'scare' him. Only annoy.

"Only watch her for today. One day."

House made a face at the phone and spun around in his swiveling chair. "You keep saying that—and I keep saying 'no.' It's a fun game, and as much as I'm enjoying myself…"

"You've probably only seen her twice in her life, Greg," Natalie growled, stopping House from hanging up the phone.

"Once," House corrected. "The last time I sent Wilson."

Natalie sighed. "Just do this for me."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm a busy man," House said. "In case you've forgotten, I save lives. I can't just bring your little bugger with me. Saving lives just doesn't leave room for much else."

"But she'd love spending the day at the hospital with you…"

House snorted. "You don't actually think I'd bring her there, to the hospital, do you? That is, provided I was watching her. Which I'm not."

"You wouldn't leave a little girl out in the street would you?" Natalie asked slyly.

"What…" House started suspiciously, knowing that Natalie was planning something—she always was, even when she was little. Probably why she became a lawyer, the brat.

"Well…" Natalie's voice hid a smile. "Say someone came up to you and pushed a little girl into your arms—then split. You wouldn't just toss the girl out, would you?"

"Actually, I woul…" That was when House heard the sound of a motor humming in the background from Natalie's end of the phone. "You're in your car," he accused.

"Close." From wherever Natalie was, a car door slammed. "I just got out of it."

"Where are you?" House was beginning to figure out what was going on. For once, the trickster was being tricked…and he didn't like it. "God, you're here."

"Right you are, dear brother."

"...Damn."

-o0o-

The doorbell rang only a moment after Natalie spoke, and House didn't even have to think about who it was on the other side. He knew.

The doorknob turned. House wished he had locked it. He wasn't sure why it wasn't locked, anyway; he didn't really trust the other people who lived nearby. The door opened a crack. House wished he was closer so he could slam it closed and then lock it.

But the door wasn't locked and wouldn't be locked; instead it opened to reveal House's blasted sister and her little brat. The latter of the two being sound asleep in her mother's arms.

"Hello, Greg." Natalie smirked.

"Oh, hi," House greeted her sarcastically. He stood up and grabbed his cane from its post near the desk. Limping over to the door that Natalie had just kicked closed behind her, he told her, "I'm glad you could stop by—but if you have to leave, I get it. I know how busy you are." With that he opened the door with a gallant sweep.

"You can't make me leave, Greg." Natalie shifted her daughter to the other hip.

"I can't," House admitted. "Judge can. I swear, I'll sue."

"And if I go bankrupt, you'll have custody of Laura."

House shut up.

Closing the door with a sigh, House stared at the little girl in Natalie's arms. Eyeing her distastefully, House made a face close to a wince. "I don't want her."

Natalie didn't humor House with an answer. Instead, she lowered her sleeping daughter, Laura, from her arms to the couch.

"Don't—" House started, but it was too late: Natalie had already settled Laura comfortably on the couch. With a sound much like a whimper, the doctor looked mournfully at the couch and then his sister. "I sit there."

"You're intolerable." Natalie didn't even sound amused. She sat down on the edge of the couch next to her daughter and fondly brushed the hair out of her daughter's eyes. "Laura, sweetie, wake up. We're at Uncle Greg's house."

The affect of her words was immediate. The little brown-haired girl flew up like a shot and glanced wildly around. "Uncle Greg?"

'Uncle Greg' was a name commonly spoken by Laura. The seven-year-old girl had only seen the man once in her life, about a year ago, when Natalie cornered House into having lunch. But she'd had such a good time (House not enjoying himself nearly as much) that she hadn't stopped asking her mom when they could see him again.

Her blue eyes settled on House and she gave a little squeal. Scrambling off the couch she raced towards him, yelling as she did: "Uncle Greg! Uncle Greg!"

"…Isn't here." House put his cane on Laura's chest, stopping her in her tracks, before she could come any closer. There was no way he wanted her hugging his leg, or something.

"You're going to go to work with Uncle Greg today, Laura." From her spot on the couch, Natalie smirked at House's glare. "Won't it be fun?"

Laura's eyes grew wide and she spoke in a whisper. "Really?"

"No," House said. "Not really. You—and your mom—were just leaving."

Laura's face fell. Her eyes filled with water. House wouldn't have cared if she'd cried, so long as she didn't get his cane, still pushed up against her chest, wet. But Natalie cared; before her little girl could even sniffle, the woman picked her up.

Shooting a glare at House, Natalie said, "Oh, Uncle Greg is just kidding, I'm sure…"

"Yeah, kidding…" House mumbled.

"You really do get to spend the day with him. But Mommy has to go to work—I'll be back tonight, okay?"

Laura nodded, glad she really would be able to stay with her uncle.

"Be a good girl." Natalie gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek, and then, with a quick glance at her watch, she gave a little jump. "I need to go now, or I'm going to miss the meeting altogether—already gonna be late."

"Just you wait a minute," House ordered when Natalie was halfway out the door. "You're not going anywhere without that." He pointed his cane at Laura.

Natalie grinned. "See yah."

She backed out of the door before closing it quickly. House could only stand there as he heard a car start and then drive away.

House's eyes widened in disbelief. She had really done it. He'd doubted that his sister had the guts to leave her daughter with him, but he didn't doubt her anymore. "She really did it. She stuck me with the little bugger…"

All day.

-o0o-

"But mommy said I was going to work with you," Laura whined to her uncle.

"Mommy lied." House bent down to whisper as if he was telling her a big secret. "Mommy lies a lot, you know. Can never trust a woman with a child."

Straightening back up, House told the little girl: "Actually, instead of going to work, you get to stay here. Alone. Isn't that what…you know, big girls get to do?"

"But I wanna go with you!" Laura huffed.

"Little girls aren't allowed at the hospital," House lied.

"But you just called me a big girl. Big girls are allowed anywhere."

"…Except the hospital." House shrugged on his leather coat and headed for the door. With a hand on the doorknob, House added, as an afterthought, "And don't touch anything."

House went out the door, then, leaving the little girl standing in the middle of his living room.

-o0o-

House had one leg over his motorcycle, and was seconds away from speeding away, when he heard it.

House froze, in his one-leg-on-the-motorcycle position. That sound. The crash sound. The sound of something breaking. Something of his.

It was that girl, the brat. She must've done something. Clenching his jaw, House got all the way off his bike and just stood there, looking at his front door. After a moment, House pulled his leather jacket tighter before limping over and into his house.

-o0o-

"It was an accident, Uncle Greg," Laura vowed. "I swear."

Instead of fussing over Laura and repeatedly asking if she was all right, like most adults would have done, House was more worried over his plates. It wasn't like the ceramic plates meant something to him—$2.99 at Wal-Mart—but it was just annoying.

According to the tale Laura had told, which House had only half-listened to, the child had stood on a chair to reach the plates. She wanted breakfast. But the plates had been too heavy for the bugger and she dropped them—all of them—before falling off the counter herself.

House wasn't worried about Laura. If the little girl could stand in front of him, neither bleeding nor crying, she was just fine, as far as he was concerned. He was more annoyed at the mess he would have to clean up later.

"Are you mad?" Laura whispered when House didn't say anything.

"You bet I'm ma—" House didn't finish the sentence because just then, the phone rang. House mumbled something to Laura about it being her mom or else, and then grudgingly grabbed the phone.

"House!"

"Uh-oh." House lowered the phone to his shoulder as Lisa Cuddy called him names over the phone. He could still hear her, though, and by the size of Laura's pupils, so could she.

"Mommy said that word was bad," she told House. "People aren't supposed to say it."

"You're absolutely right," House replied dryly. Raising the phone back up to his ear, he smirked, as if Cuddy could actually see him.

"Hi, Cuddy."

"I'm going to murder you, House!" Judging by the venom that could be heard in Cuddy's voice, she wasn't kidding. Good thing his sister was a lawyer. "You were supposed to be at the hospital an hour ago!"

"And here I thought this was going to be a social call."

"Don't play games with me, House," Cuddy ordered. "Why aren't you here?"

"This kid showed up at my door—" House started.

"You have clinic duty today," Cuddy continued as if she hadn't even heard House speak. And she probably hadn't. "So whatever excuse you can come up with, I won't believe you; I'll just call you for what you are, you lying bas—"

House lowered the phone and covered Laura's ear just in time. She smiled up at him and House raised his eyebrows.

"Don't tell Mommy you heard that."

Picking the phone back up just in time for Cuddy to finish yelling—at least for now—House managed to get out, "Language, Cuddy, language. Don't talk like that—I have a kid."

"You what?"

House stifled a snort, and Laura looked questioningly up at him. He pointed to the phone and grinned. When Laura only looked confused, he waved her away.

"She's not mine." House covered the phone with his hand and mouthed the word 'Right?' to Laura, who just blinked. Raising the phone up to his ear again, he continued, "I'm only watching her."

"You're babysitting a little girl?" Cuddy responded sarcastically. "I don't buy that one, House. That has to be the sorriest excuse to get out of clinic duty you've came up with yet."

"I'm not lying. But, god, I wish I was."

"You expect me to believe you're taking care of a child because you want to?" Cuddy asked.

"Well…no," House said bluntly. "I don't want to watch her. Her mom just…showed up and left her." He brightened as an idea struck him. "You want her?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I seem to remember a time when you desperately wanted a child," House said. "I have one here, and I don't want her, so you can just take her. No charge."

"Who is she?" Cuddy dismissed House's offered and concentrated on settling her curiosity.

"My sister's girl."

"Your niece?"

"No," House said. "…Well, maybe technically. But that would make me her uncle—a title I'm not willing to live up to. No, to me she's just an annoying brat that my blasted sister stuck me with."

"Wait a minute." Cuddy still sounded disbelieving. "You have a sister? Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I loathe to claim her as a relative of mine."

"I know you're lying, House," Cuddy said. "Stop playing games and making up imaginary little girls and get your ass—"

House covered the phone up again and told Laura, "Don't tell your mom you heard that word, either."

"…Here and do the clinic duty you have to do."

"What am I supposed to do with the kid?"

"Bring your imaginary friend with you, House." Cuddy spoke to him like she would a child. "And I expect you here in no less than half an hour."

"But—"

Cuddy hung up.

House lowered the phone slowly and looked at Laura like he would greet a rattlesnake in his shoe.

"So...ever ridden a motorcycle?"

-o0o-

House hated holding the little girl in front of him on his bike as he sped down the road to reach the hospital. But he hated the thought of having Laura cling to his waist even more. And the thought of taking a bus even more than that.

So he held her.

He had a wince on his face the entire time, and held her with one arm as lightly as he could while still holding her tight enough so she stayed on. He drove as slowly fast as he could—he was in a hurry to get there, but, again, he didn't dare go so fast that she might fall off. He didn't want to face murder charges, especially since his sister would probably be the one prosecuting him. Not that that wouldn't be a conflict of interests, or anything...

Laura, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She sat on the seat delicately, as if she wanted to jump up and down (but House had told her not to do that in the first five minutes of the ride). She was grinning and squealing in a way that made House want to drop her off on the side of the road and leave her there. And, to top it all off, she was clapping her hands together and screaming, "Faster, Uncle Greg, faster! Isn't this fun, Uncle Greg?"

If House heard the words 'Uncle Greg' again, he was going to kill her.

-o0o-

The ride to the hospital seemed to take longer than it had ever done before. House was ready to shoot the girl; even Laura had grown tired of sitting still, and just wanted to be able to move around.

"Hey, Unc—"

"Don't even say it, girl," House warned. "What do you want?"

"Are we there yet?"

"To my and your relief, yes," House said, turning into the parking lot of the hospital as he said it.

"This is where you work?" Laura asked. "Do we get off the bike here?"

House nodded. Muttering under his breath, he parked the bike.

"Thank god..."

-o0o-

"Don't tell your mom you rode on that thing." House pointed his cane to the bike that was parked in its usual spot. "She'll probably never let you near me agai…"

House trailed off as that thought came to him. "On second thought, make sure you do tell your mom you rode on that bike. Tell her multiple times. Make it sound dangerous, okay?"

"Okay," Laura chirped cheerfully, being willing to do anything House told her to. As much as House hated it, Laura idolized him.

Laura skipped on ahead of House as he limped into the hospital. Laura was so far ahead of House that she went unnoticed by the dean of medicine, on her way to the door, but House entered the building just in time to have a front row seat for Lisa Cuddy's fury.

"There you are!" Cuddy stared at him with one of those looks that would go along with a hands-on-hips position…only Cuddy wasn't one to put her hands on her hips.

"Here I am," House repeated casually.

"Alone, I see." The curious glance that Cuddy cast behind House showed that she really wasn't completely convinced he didn't have a girl with him. "Your imaginary friend couldn't make it?"

"The kid ran that way." House used his handy-dandy cane to point at the little girl that was currently standing by the counter, stretching as far as she could to reach the bowl of suckers House loved so much.

"And," House added, "if you don't get to her fast she'd going to tip that—"

The—miraculously—plastic bowl fell with a thud.

"Too late," House said calmly. "She already spilled all the candy."

Cuddy had turned at the sound of the bowl hitting the floor, and when she spotted the little girl that stood right next to it—trying her hardest to look innocent but failing miserably—she looked like she wanted to throw her hands up in the air in frustration.

"Is she really yours?"

"We've been over this," House remarked impatiently. "She's not mine. But she did just so happen to come with me."

"Then clean the mess up."

House stood there, unmoving. Cuddy gave him a sideways glance.

"I mean it, House," she threatened. "She's your niece—"

"Don't call her that…"

"—you clean it up."

-o0o-

"Well that wasn't half as bad as I thought it would be," House mused as he leaned on the counter. "In fact, I hardly had to work to clean it up at all."

"That's because I cleaned up the candy, Uncle Greg," Laura said.

"But we already had the conversation about not telling Cuddy that, right?" House asked, motioning for Laura to hand him the last of the suckers she had just put in the bowl.

"Yes."

"I couldn't remember." House looked a little more content with his baby-sitting situation when Laura gave him a sucker.

"I'm done!" Laura chirped as she stood on tiptoe to push the bowl back to its spot on the counter. "What are we gonna do now, Uncle Greg?"

"First, you're going to stop calling me 'Uncle Greg'." House pulled the sucker out of his mouth with a pop and pointed the sucker at his niece. "I'm not your uncle in the sense that I'm a cool guy—" House paused. "—well, I am a cool guy—but I'm not a loving uncle that will take you places and buy you things and all that…not-so-good stuff, okay? So don't call me your uncle."

House reached his hand into the candy bowl and pocketed a few more suckers for later before continuing. "Second, I have stuff to do that you can't help with, so you're just going to have to…do something else."

Laura looked a bit puzzled at House's long rants, but, so far, she was following along.

"That's all," House concluded. "I have to go find my team—"

"House!"

"—and avoid the angry owner of that voice." House left Laura standing at the counter as he fled the scene, surprisingly fast for a 'cripple', that Cuddy was currently on her way to reach.

-o0o-

He didn't get far.

Despite the fact that House was a master at moving quickly with a cane, Lisa Cuddy never let him get away.

She grabbed him by his arm and dragged him into her office, but since he had been standing directly out front of her doors when she caught up with him, House didn't see the point of going the extra few steps.

She got him in there, though, and went behind her desk to sit down. Once she did, she looked a little better. She must've been tired.

"You still have to do that clinic duty, House," she told him.

"What about the kid?" House nodded towards Laura, who had followed after the bickering doctors into the dean's office and now stood at House's side.

"Good idea, using a girl you didn't want to watch to get out of clinic duty." Cuddy didn't even look up from rearranging the papers on her desk.

"Nothing like it, I don't think," House replied.

"You're still doing clinic duty," Cuddy said. "It's only an hour, House. I know you can do it."

"I know I can, too," House responded smoothly; "I just don't want to."

"You don't have a case today." Cuddy silenced House's protest before it even left his mouth. "I've already looked; nothing for you. So you have nothing better to do than to go serve your clinic duty."

"'Serve your clinic duty' makes it sound like a prison sentence."

"For you, I'm sure it is." Cuddy smirked at House's glare and told him, "Leave."

House shrugged and turned to go, but when Laura started following him, he stopped and turned to her.

"Hey, I have an idea," he said to the little girl with false brightness. "Why don't you stay here with Aunt Cuddy?"

"Aunt Cuddy?" The dean of medicine shrieked; perhaps she was more surprised at the thought of being married to House in order to be Laura's aunt than the idea of watching the little girl.

"…Unofficial Aunt Cuddy," House corrected, exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

"House!" Cuddy whisper-screamed, flying to the door and opening it before House had the time to go two steps away from it. "I can't watch her!"

"Why not?" House looked over his shoulder at her.

"I don't even know her name!"

"Ask her what it is. She knows how to talk." House looked at the silent Laura; who hadn't said a word the whole time House and Cuddy had been arguing. "She may not look like it, but she can."

"I'm working!" Cuddy was becoming desperate; knowing the battle was already lost. It always was, when it came to arguing with Gregory House.

"So am I," House smirked. "Clinic duty, remember?"

Cuddy glared daggers through House, who only shrugged and walked away, leaving Laura with another baby-sitter, much like Natalie had done only hours before.

"You're a jackass, House!"

-o0o-