The backyard was half-covered in pink and blue decorations, balloons tied around tree trunks and streamers swaying lazily in the breeze. House stood at the edge of the deck, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the chaos unfolding before him. His cane tapped against the wooden planks in a restless rhythm. Cuddy was kneeling by one of the tables, adjusting a stack of pastel plates with an intense focus, like the fate of the world depended on proper cutlery alignment.

"Just because you're allergic to joy doesn't mean you get to ruin it for everyone else," she said, but her voice softened when she looked past him and saw you standing near the gift table, holding a clipboard. Her hand moved to your belly, five months now. A bump House pretended not to obsess over daily.

He shifted his weight and made his way down the steps, grumbling with every third step. He stopped when he saw you start dragging one of the folding chairs across the grass.

"Hey, stop. What are you doing? You're not supposed to be lifting anything heavier than a throw pillow," he barked, then added with a half-glare, "And even that's pushing it."

Cuddy walked up behind him, folding her arms and exhaling. There had been too many close calls. Too many losses. The image of those cold ultrasound rooms still haunted her. She didn't say anything at first, just glanced between the two of you, watching House's jaw clench even as he tried to act like it was no big deal.

"We're past the danger zone," she said quietly, mostly to reassure herself, but it didn't stop the anxious tightness in her chest. Her hand brushed House's arm. "But maybe just... let someone else set things up. Just this once."

House scoffed and turned back toward the party setup, waving a hand at one of the hired staff.

"Hey! You with the man bun. You're on chair duty now. The pregnant one is off the clock." He turned to Cuddy, deadpan. "Next thing you know she'll be trying to hang from the tree to string up confetti bombs."

Cuddy smirked despite herself, though her eyes were still watchful. She walked over to you, murmuring something under her breath, guiding you to sit. Meanwhile, House hovered nearby, tapping his cane and keeping an eye on everything like a hawk in a lab coat. For all his sarcasm, every moment he wasn't pretending not to care, he was mentally counting down the seconds to the reveal, trying not to hope too much.