A/N: Imagine that House had done nothing but sit at home for two weeks after he was shot. That the ketamine had been given to him and the pain in his leg had subsided. Imagine House, at home, in the dark, with his thoughts and scotch. That is the plot for this two shot. Will be rated M for hot sex in the second chapter. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Greg House and Allison Cameron belong to me for this short piece of fiction. They will be happily returned after this story is over although their characters will continuously be the focus of all my stories, so in a way they belong to me….screw it. I DON'T OWN, SO DON'T SUE!!!!

It had been two weeks since he had been shot and he still could not shake the images of Cameron shuddering underneath his touch. It had not been his actual touch, it was that of a robot and still yet she had trembled under the touch. The hallucination had been so real, so vivid that he could still see the look on her face as he maneuvered the robot over her body. He could still hear the sigh that she emitted when he lifted the hem of her button down and better yet he could still hear the warning moan of his name that came from her lips when he cut the top of her shirt open.

Although it was only a figment of his imagination, the thought of her on that table was what had kept him up the past two weeks. There had not been a night since when he had not dreamed of her, under his own touch and not that of a robot. It was during a particular heated fantasy that she had chosen to knock on his door six days ago and when he had opened the door to her and had to immediately excuse himself to the bathroom to relieve himself.

Wilson had been his most frequent visitor, stopping by at least once a day, generally after work to make sure that he was still making it. House had yet to tell his friend of his hallucination, to tell him that his feelings for Stacy were now gone and had been replaced by much stronger feelings for his subordinate. There had been ample opportunity with the frequent lulls in conversations that the two had when they watched The L Word, but House still had trouble admitting the fact to himself, let alone let someone else in on it.

So here he is, fourteen days into "recovery" and he had barely left his town house. Wilson had been bringing him groceries and just as the clock reached seven he heard a knock on the door that signaled his friend's arrival. After turning off the television he slowly lifted himself from the couch and trudged over to the door, wondering why he hadn't used his key like usual. He was given an answer when he opened the door to see her standing there with two paper sacks of groceries.

"Wilson asked me to run to the grocery, he had an emergency of some kind." She offered with a smile, extending the bags to him. Taking one of them he pulled the door open and stepped aside, much to her confusion.

"He offers complimentary cuisine as well." House informed her, his voice gravelly from not using it that day. He turned and walked through the apartment, leaving the door open for her to follow.

Her mouth made an "o" formation at this and she slowly closed the door and followed him into the apartment, smiling as she looked at his legs and saw a much lighter gait to his step. He sat the bags on the counter top and began emptying the contents and his lips twitched slightly when he pulled a fifth of Wild Turkey bourbon from a smaller brown paper bag. He held the bottle up at her and gave her an intriguing look. "You should know now that I can handle twice your booze consumption so don't think that you can get me drunk and take advantage of me."

Surprisingly she did not miss a beat and he was disappointed when a blush did not creep across her face. "Damn." She sighed, snapping her fingers together to enunciate her point. "There goes my whole evening." Letting a small smile come across his features he gave her an inquisitive look before setting the bottle on the table and drawing out the contents of his paper bag.

"Why aren't you emptying that one?" He asked her, pointing to her untouched bag.

"I don't know where anything goes." She replied, leaning back against the counter and watching him.

"It doesn't matter." He replied. "I usually just leave it all on the counters."

"That doesn't surprise me." She replied, shaking her head.

"Ever heard of organized chaos?" He retorted.

"I see it on your desk five days a week." She informed him, beginning to empty the contents of her bag. When they had finished and Cameron had placed all the perishables in the refrigerator and dumped half of what was in the refrigerator in the trash, House admired his booty. Cheez-Its, Little Debbie Sugar Donuts, Lasagna noodles, chicken Snack Ramen Noodles, various Chef-Boyardee's, Eggs, Milk, a carton of Dr. Pepper, eggs, bacon, sausage links, pancake batter, mac and cheese, three boxes of Captain Crunch, cheese (of both string and sliced variety), Ritz crackers, onions, three rib-eye steaks, butter, and finally four pieces of pork tenderloin.

"How did you pay for all of this?" He asked of her, watching as she began opening counters and searching for the utensils to begin cooking.

"Wilson gave me his credit card and a list of things to get." She replied, her head reemerging from behind a door, a cast iron skillet in her hand. Moving to the stove she sat the skillet on the front left burner and retrieved butter and the steaks before finding his spice cabinet. Pulling out salt, lemon pepper, and Worcestershire sauce she then hunted until she found a pair of tongs and a butter knife. "Do me a favor?" She asked as she turned on the burner and put a tablespoon and a half of butter in the skillet.

"What's that?" He asked.

"Cut one of those onions into slices for me?"

"I told you that Wilson does the cuisine, you are Wilson."

"House," She sighed. "Does Wilson eat with you?"

"On occasion." He replied.

"Great. I've been craving a good steak." She told him, adding the pepper, salt, and Worcestershire sauce to the sizzling butter and opening the steak.

"Who said that you could stay?" He asked.

"You did when you told me I had to cook. I'm not doing all this work and not getting a piece of the end product."

"I'll be watching TV." He informed her, turning to head back to the living room.

"Ok." She replied, waving him off and beginning work on their meal. House could not have left the kitchen soon enough. The very sight of her was getting him aroused and the aroma wafting from his kitchen to him did not help anything. Allison Cameron was in his kitchen preparing their dinner. The thought in itself was sexy. Cameron could cook and she was cooking for him, she didn't have to but she was. Bits and pieces of the past two weeks played in his head, all involving the kitchen and the tirades that he and fantasy Cameron had enjoyed on the counter top, in the chairs, against the wall…his eyes closed in a vain attempt to clear these things from his mind. It was obvious from the tent in his pants however that this evening was going to be a long one.