You leant over the side of the bath while your laughs and squeals filled the house from the small bathroom. Your hair was soaked, which was pretty much the idea, but so was your back, which was less than ideal.

Your mother - Cuddy - was standing beside you as she tried to scrub shampoo into your hair. She was laughing softly at your complaints and grinning with a fondess she only held for you - or House for that matter. Cuddy was half wishing she hadn't agreed to wash your hair at eleven at night if she knew you'd complain so much. But at the sight of her daughter laughing while Cuddy performed such a maternal task as washing her hair, she could never complain.

You would've been able to hear the soft click of a key twisting into the front door if you could hear anything above the running water signalling your father's - House - return. Neither could you hear the small limping steps as he made his way to the bathroom where the sound of laughs could be heard.

House leant against the doorway to the bathroom. His eyebrows furrowed in a bewildered look, yet a slight smile like smirk graced his features as he took in the sight of his wife scrubbing their daughters hair as their daughter leans their head over the side of the bathtub. It was ridiculous to look at, but a small part of it warmed his heart - not that House would ever admit such a thing.