A/N: I just want to say a quick thanks to those who have added this story to their alerts and favorites. It means a lot to know that people are actually reading this. And thanks again to Iyimgrace for being my Beta :)

Chapter 2

Malibu Beach

The beach was a bluster of activity but not overly crowded. House found a surfboard rental place, and headed down to the sandy beach.

He wasn't lying when he told Wilson that he used to surf. He was actually quite good at it when he was younger. Good meaning that he could stand up on the board and ride the pipeline. Of course, now being 30 years later, he only hoped he wouldn't make an ass of himself and end up in the ER.

There was also the ugly scar on his thigh that was thankfully covered by his long shorts so he wasn't nearly as self conscious.

He stuck the board in the sand, laid out a towel and sat for awhile, watching the other people surfing. Some had wetsuits and some didn't. It was certainly too hot for a wet suit in his opinion, but then he wasn't used to the hot California sun. After applying a generous amount of sunscreen, he took a deep breath and headed down to the water with his board.

It took a few tries, but eventually he was able to stand upright and surf the way he used to. It was an amazing feeling being pain free after so many years. He literally felt invincible. That is, until a big wave came up unexpectedly and knocked him off.

He found himself lying on his back coughing up a gallon of salty ocean water.

"Are you okay?" a voice inquired. Somewhere in the back of his fogged brain, he registered the voice as female and he opened his eyes.

She seemed startled at first, but then she recovered. She'd never seen eyes that blue before and she was mesmerized.

"I..think so." House sat up and gave his head a shake. "It's been awhile since I surfed. Too much too soon, I guess."

"You looked pretty good out there," she praised.

House's ego was fluffed up a little until she lowered the boom. "For an old guy."

He smirked. "Thanks."

"Oh God..I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I feel like a perfect ass."

"Nobody's perfect."

They stared at each other for a minute, as if they were trying to decide what to do or what to say, if anything.

She was very pretty, and fit the description of the typical California girl. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes were blue and she had quite a body. She was also quite young. House decided she couldn't be more than 25. Finally, she extended her hand. "I'm Karen. Karen Love."

House shook it, and was impressed by the firm handshake. "Greg House."

"Well, Greg, you look like you could use a stiff drink. Or two. Or three. How about it?"

He looked at her like she was insane. "Are you serious?"

She shrugged. "I never joke about alcohol."

"Neither do I. Let's go."

He gathered his things, returned the surf board and followed Karen to her car in the parking lot. When he saw it, he stopped dead in his tracks. "Is that...a woodie?"

Karen grinned proudly and touched the hood affectionately. "Yep. It's my Dad's."

"Wow. This is like...the ultimate Beach Boy car."

"Were you a fan?"

"Still am."

"Cool. Come on."

They walked across the street to a seaside restaurant where they sat out on the deck. The sun was starting to set and the waves were still crashing on the shore against the rocks.

"So you must be new around here," Karen said as she took a sip of her Scotch. "I haven't seen you before."

"I'll bet you know all the surfer boys," he grinned, and she blushed.

"I know my fair share. So what's your story?"

"I'm only here for a couple of months. I'm from Princeton."

"Princeton as in..."

"Princeton, New Jersey."

"Are you a professor there?"

"No."

His short answer perplexed her and she cocked her head to one side. "I suppose next you're going to tell me you're a doctor."

House opened his mouth to answer when a commotion inside the restaurant broke out and a lady started screaming. "Please! Please help, someone! My husband can't breathe! Someone call 9-1-1!"

He cursed silently as he bunched up his napkin and got up from the table.

"Where're you going, Greg?"

"Sorry, gotta do my doctor thang," he said with a shrug and went inside. There was a small crowd gathering around a man lying on the floor. "What happened?" House asked the man's wife.

"He's choking...I think his throat closed up."

"Did you do the Heimlich?"

"Yes, three times! It didn't work."

"Grab me some alcohol, latex gloves, a very sharp knife and a straw."

Someone ran to do his bidding while House rolled up his sleeves as Karen looked on in astonishment.

"Greg..."

"Not now, I've got a dying man here. He's already cyanotic."

A man returned with the items House requested, House donned the rubber gloves and then swabbed the man's throat with the alcohol.

"Oh my God! You're going to cut him open right here?" the man's wife shrieked.

Karen wrapped her arm around the woman to calm her, hoping she'd stay quiet enough for House to do his thing. Before she even realized, House had done what looked like an emergency tracheotomy and had the straw placed in the hole as a breathing tube.

Everyone applauded and cheered as the paramedics rolled up on the scene and took the man and his wife away.

Karen looked at him as if she were in shock. "You're not...the Greg House? The famous diagnostician?"

House sighed. "Yup. In the flesh."

She put her hands to her mouth. "Oh my God. I've heard of you."

He narrowed his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yeah!"

"Great. But I'm starving. Then, while we eat, you can tell me how you know about me."

Karen smiled at him and led him back outside. By then, the sun had set, and someone had placed a candle on their table.

"Your bedside manner precedes you, and yet people come from all over for you to fix them."

"They do," he nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I'm that good," he smirked.

"And very full of yourself."

"Comes with the job. What about you? What do you do?"

Karen shrugged. "I teach surfing lessons, swimming lessons, stuff like that."

"Fun. Seriously though, how do you know about me? I've never treated anyone from here."

"How would you know? Do you ever talk to your patients?"

He grinned. "Touché. Now seriously, tell me."

Karen sighed. "My uncle is a doctor in New York. You've apparently treated one or two of his patients. He says you're brilliant."

"Smart man. What's his name?"

"Henry Rosen. But enough about him," she smiled, sending shock waves right to his groin. "Where are you staying?"

"Regent Beverly Wilshire. Ever been?"

"No."

He grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows. "Want to?"

"How about I show you my humble abode? I live just a few blocks from here. Do you have a car?"

"No, a bike. I'll follow you."

Before he could even reach for his wallet, she slapped a fifty on the table and began to leave the restaurant. He was unaware that he was being watched as he walked by the man sitting next to the doors, notepad in hand.

X X X

Karen lived in a decent sized bungalow right on the beach. There was a row of about ten, each one with a small patio and steps that went right onto the sand.

"Nice bike," she commented as she got out of her car and admired the shiny black Harley.

"Thanks. It's just a rental though. I have a bike at home. Do you ride?"

"No, but I've always wanted to."

"I'll give you a ride one day," he whispered, his voice husky as he stood close behind her while she fumbled with the key in the lock.

He smelled so good. Like the beach combined with his own sexy smell. It was intoxicating.

When she finally got the door open, she stumbled inside with him right behind her. He kicked the door closed behind him and pushed her up against the wall, kissing her with such a ferociousness it made her weak.

Damn he was a good kisser!

But she didn't want to rush things.

Greg House had his own agenda, however. He was already backing her down the hallway toward her bedroom as he unzipped her windbreaker and slid his arms around her waist.

"Greg..." she breathed as his mouth kissed and bit her neck.

"Hmm?"

"Slow down. There's no reason to rush. I like to...take my time getting to know the men I sleep with."

"Who said anything about sleeping?" he grinned.

"Bad boy, huh?" she giggled as he pulled her jacket off and slid his hands under her shirt, feeling her soft skin and very pert nipples.

"You know it."

When she didn't say anything else, he took that as permission as he shoved her back so she landed on her bed and pounced on her, making her giggle as she fell back against the pillows.

X X X

It was early. Not even dawn when House woke up dying of thirst. He used the bathroom, checked out the medicine cabinet finding not much more than a pack of birth control pills and some other prescription for thyroid medication, and went to the kitchen to find a glass of water. His eyes wandered as he filled the glass and turned off the tap, but he paused with the glass half way to his lips when he noticed what looked like a memorabilia room. He went over to take a look at the photos, record albums and other things on the wall when he heard the floor creak.

"Ah, you found my wall of shame," Karen chuckled.

"Your dad really is a Beach Boy?"

"Yep. Cool huh?"

"Why is all this here and not at his place or something?"

"Oh he has plenty of stuff at his house. But this stuff is my favourite so he lets me show it off."

"Nice. Look, I'm just gonna go. I'm tired and I have some calls to make in the morning. I'll be out of your way in a few minutes."

Karen placed her hands on his hips to stop him and looked disappointed. "Why go now? It's the middle of the night. Was the sex that bad?"

House smiled back at her and placed his hands over hers. "It was amazing. I just...I don't do relationships. And I'm not staying in town for long. Let's just leave things as they are. We met and we connected. I'd rather just...leave us as friends."

Karen smiled ruefully at him. "Does that mean if I see you on the street, I can say hi and you'll acknowledge me?"

House's first instinct was to say "I doubt it," but he didn't feel like being a jerk at that moment. He just wanted out of there. "Sure."

He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Then he grabbed his stuff and let himself out.

As he rode back to the hotel, he sighed heavily. He hated doing that to her but she wasn't his type, and he didn't want her pissed at him. He must have been insane to even come back to her place with her. He was old enough to be her father, and then some.

He chalked it up to being caught up in the whole California experience. That being, surf, sand, sun and sex. He'd only been in town for a couple of days and he'd already had his first fling. He wasn't proud of himself, but he didn't feel guilty about it either. After all, Karen had invited him back to her place. She knew what she was doing, and even though part of him knew it was wrong, he went anyway.

He was back at his hotel before he knew it, and went up to his room with the intent to sleep the day away and stay in. Of course, if the check-in clerk watching him enter the lobby had anything to do with it, that wasn't to be.

A/N: I'd love to hear how you guys are enjoying this. It inspires me to write faster :)

Also, for you young 'uns who might not know, a "woodie" is an old car (think station wagon) with wooden side panels. Most people used em to carry their surfboards. The Beach Boys did also :) You can google it ;)

Songs that went into writing this chapter:

Surfer Girl- The Beach Boys

Catch a Wave- The Beach Boys

Make it Big- The Beach Boys

Yes..I'm a huge fan!