dfja; coffee?

I was smack in the middle of a hallmark-inspired dream when Cleo so rudely pawed my door. I was laying in fields of clover with Wilson and House, talking about poetry. Together, they make the perfect man. I loved House but would die before I told him because he'd just mock me. Then I found out that my sister's baby (I feel superstitiously like jinxing this if I type it out) was going to be stillborn and I was sobbing but went about my work (I worked at the hospital, I guess—I had a white jacket but I knew I was no doctor). I go to see her, and House is there. He's operating on the baby—he's removed it from the womb. He says "it's a boy" and I'm crying insanely, repeat "It's a boy, it's a boy." He's somehow got the baby's heart beating, and I feel then as though I've witnessed a miracle, because it was not alive a few minutes ago. An orderly says the police are coming, that they are coming for House for doing this, and yet again I'm crying because it just seems like the supreme act of love for him to have done this. He looks at me and tells me to put the finger in the baby's mouth, quickly, to get the baby to begin sucking. I do, and the baby turns from blue to pink. The police disappear, and I am amazed and worshipping.