Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd certainly be okay if House owned me. Hehe.
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and concern. Hmm, I've been slightly obsessed with watching NCIS—it's not my fault its addictive. Hehe.
October 3rd
Smile fixed in place Greg waited for his parents to step into the room, his mother whom he was quite fond of and his father who most days didn't qualify for the title in House's book. In an attempt to avoid any direct conversations House glanced around his own apartment. The clutter he had proudly accumulated had disappeared over night, and instead of the musky book smell the room was filled with a strong vanilla cinnamon aroma. He grinned stupidly to himself, only Buffy could get away with this sort of makeover.
"Ow," House winced when a light slap to the back of his head was administered by Buffy herself.
She rolled her eyes at him, "If you want to be a drama queen you can go across the hall. Take their coats."
He smiled something closer to a genuine grin and took their coats, "Mom, Dad."
"Hello dear, so this is her," his mother asked brightly.
House sighed at the ground, "Mhm, Buffy these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Buffy, my fiancée."
"Call me John and that's Blythe," Greg's father extended a hand.
Buffy grasped it with a smile, "It's nice to meet you."
John chuckled, "Nice strong handshake, I like that in a woman."
Buffy blushed lightly and then stepped further into the room, "Would you like something to drink?"
Blythe shook her head, "We're fine dear, now tell me about you."
Buffy's eyes widened with a tinge of fear as Blythe led her to sit down on the couch. John rolled his eyes at his wife before patting his son on the shoulder.
"Better save your girl from the Mother Wolf."
Despite his strained relationship with his father, the man had a point.
"So how did you meet Greg," Blythe was still smiling.
House plopped down on the arm chair, "Wilson introduced us."
John quirked an eyebrow, "So why are you engaged to this lump and not James?"
"Too clean-cut-pretty-boy for me," Buffy smirked at Greg.
The snort of laughter seemed to be an agreement from Greg, "The boy-scout wouldn't be able to handle you."
Buffy narrowed her eyes playfully, "And you can?"
"Didn't say that," Greg answered quickly.
Blythe giggled happily, "Oh Greg, she'll keep you on your toes."
"She tends to keep everyone on their toes," he replied.
"So why didn't you tell me about your new babe sooner," John questioned.
"Things have been busy," House answered without his usual snark.
Buffy rolled her eyes and rose to go back to the kitchen, "I have to check on dinner."
"Let me help, dear," insisted Blythe.
Smiling sweetly Buffy nodded her head, "Okay. We have meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn, and bread. Oh, and salad."
Blythe chattered amicably though what really made Buffy happy was John's crowing laughter about good comfort food.
"Eat your corn," Buffy scolded Greg.
He stuck his tongue out ignoring that his parents were watching the byplay with more than interest.
"But its healthy food," he complained.
"Then I'll just have your desert along with mine," Buffy retorted.
"What's desert," Greg asked.
"Chocolate mousse."
"Give me the corn," he ordered.
Buffy shrugged and handed him the bowl before turning back to Blythe and John.
"So when's the big day," Blythe broke the comfortable silence.
"The thirty-first of this month," Buffy answered.
"Halloween," John asked a little incredulously.
Again Buffy blushed. The idea behind the date had come from the whole anti-Halloween feelings the supernatural world had about the day. Buffy and House figured that it would be the least likely day to be struck by lightning, well now that she didn't live on a Hellmouth.
"Inside joke," House provided dispelling any awkward questions.
John chewed on a bite of meatloaf before setting his fork down and watching Buffy closely, "Military?"
She followed his eyes to the picture frame of Buffy and Riley's squad dressed in army greens, on the wall in the living room, "Not really. I was attached to a project for a period of time."
"Civilian contractor?"
Buffy nodded, "Of sorts."
"And Greg puts up with that. He doesn't like the military," John spoke bluntly.
Buffy chuckled dryly, "I know. He can't change my past and I can't change his so why worry about it."
She didn't miss House rolling his eyes, "Yeah, except when Captain Cardboard calls you up needing backup in Guatemala, then I really wish he would've gotten a hematoma from that book."
Blythe reached across the space to gently slap her son's arm, "Oh behave."
John was still focused on Buffy, "You get that call often?"
"Every once in a black moon, I don't mind though. It can be a bit of fun watching the boys trip over themselves during field training."
"You do training, aren't you a bit young for that," he questioned still being 'friendly'.
"Sometimes."
"Classified?"
"And then some," Buffy responded happily.
"Where were you stationed," John asked moving back towards less tense questions.
"Small town in California, I knew it like the back of my hand," Buffy fired back.
John smirked slightly, "Most exhilarating moment—sterilize it if you must."
"Underground tunnels tracking these two, thugs, and my weapon—it was like a super-taser—was faulty. I had to electrocute the pair of them or be toast myself."
The warm chuckle wasn't quite what she expected, "Ah, what I would give to be young again. Lot of adventures I wish I'd had. I'll say it again Son, you're damned lucky to have Buffy."
"Oh I know it. Especially after meeting two of her exes," Greg conceded.
Buffy rolled her eyes before glaring playfully at her man, "You and Spike get along better than I would like young man."
"Spike," Blythe questioned as she watched Greg being taken to heel.
"Nickname, he's got spiky hair, refuses to change it—his real name is William," Buffy explained. "The pair of them are a whole barrel full of trouble."
"It's not my fault we both like to antagonize the Sea-Monkey," House whined.
"Family," Blythe asked.
"Ah, no. Well sort of. He's as close to family as I have."
House grumbled something before taking a long draught of his beer, "If he's even human."
"My Mom passed when I was—20 and my baby Sister was, um, killed in a bombing just about a week ago," Buffy's own words sunk in, tonight just before midnight would make it a week.
It seemed like so much longer. So much had happened. Buffy felt a little guilty for not being more broken up about all the death that had happened. Shaking herself she turned back to her future in-laws.
John patted her hand, "You're a strong one."
Blythe was a little teary eyed, "I'm so sorry dear."
"It's all right. I'd already lost her. She resented me for living when our mom didn't. Haven't a clue where my father is so I just kind of adopt people into the family."
House's foot inched up her calf in a comforting gesture she smiled softly at him thanks shining in her eyes.
"Well now you have a family, dear. And what about children," Blythe asked sweetly.
Loaded question. Buffy smirked, she was evil deep down inside, kind of like Angelus—she just couldn't resist it.
"I have three already," she responded with a grin.
House snorted while his parents were in what he could only guess was extreme shock. After a moment Buffy smiled and tapped him lightly on the chest.
"Our little joke," She smiled laughingly, "I'm the legal guardian of two teenagers and one of my best friends—Sea-Monkey—has the emotional maturity of a teenager."
John joined in the laughter, "How'd that happen?"
"The company I work for has a school attached to it. I'm to teach the girls self defense before they go back to England."
John frowned, "You aren't part of that company that got blown to bits on the 25th, are you?"
Buffy nodded, "The one and only."
John nodded in understanding, "So, do you want kids?"
"Yeah, I do," Buffy responded happy to be off the more serious subjects.
"Good luck convincing my Son," John hooked a thumb at the younger man, "Never liked the tykes."
Buffy covered her mouth as she giggled helplessly, "Oh really. Well he doesn't know I know, but every morning before he goes to work he rubs the head of this fertility statue I inherited."
"Hey," Greg yelped at being found out.
Buffy just quirked an eyebrow at him, he sighed and started to help clean up the dinner table. Blythe and John spent the time regaling Buffy with some of the funnier adventures Greg had taken as a boy, as well as probed her life.
A sharp knock at the door made Buffy whimper everything had been going so well. Rushing to the door she sent a quick threat up to the PTB that it wasn't Spike, Angel, or anyone that might cause trouble.
Pulling the door open she found Andrew holding his hand, wrapped in a red spotted towel, high above his head.
"I know you said to stay over there tonight, but I was making a crudités platter for when Emmy and Melody and I watch Star Trek, and I cut myself," Andrew whimpered.
"Come in," Buffy practically pulled the man-boy into the apartment.
Guiding Andrew to sit on the couch Buffy dropped down to sit on the coffee table before fishing one of the dozens of first-aid kits out from under the couch. Buffy gently unwrapped the towel to find a nice gash on the side of Andrew's wrist.
House leaned down to take a look for himself, "Do you want me to stitch him up?"
John and Blythe watched as the new guest flinched at their son before shaking his head vehemently.
"No, it always hurts when you do it," he whined.
Buffy chuckled and pulled out a syringe, "Deep breath," she instructed.
Andrew squeezed his eyes shot and barely yelped when Buffy slid the needle into the raw flesh.
Glancing across the room to the kitchen she shook herself, "Sorry, Andrew is a bit accident prone."
"Am not," the subject whined.
"Oh really, what about last Christmas in Rome when Damien told you to put the angel on top of the tree," Buffy reminded him.
"I don't like heights and the ladder was really shaky!"
"The time you tripped down the stairs running after Faith?"
"She shouldn't have taken my Hot-Pocket!"
While Andrew had been trying to argue in his favor Buffy had skillfully started to suture the cut. John watched in appreciation. This girl would be a good addition to the family. She was clearly a good influence on Greg. He seemed less ornery than normal maybe even a little less hateful.
Taking the gauze and ace bandage from House Buffy smiled as she wrapped Andrew's wrist.
"Okay, all good. No more knives tonight. Go watch your movie and tell the girls not to laugh at you too much, huh," Buffy smiled as she stood up.
Andrew rose and wrapped Buffy in a quick hug, "Thanks," and then he was gone.
House rolled his eyes as he cleaned up the med-kit, "That was the Sea-Monkey."
House's favorite jazz album was playing softly in the background as the quartet sipped wine and discussed travel. Everything had calmed down significantly, although Buffy was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. And drop it did.
Somewhere between Minsk and Helsinki the telephone rang and House excused himself, half hoping it was Cuddy demanding he hurry to the hospital because some idiot had gotten the sniffles.
"Yellow. She's here. Yeah," House spoke quickly before chucking the phone at Buffy, "It's the C-man."
Catching the phone deftly, she huffed slightly before smiling apologetically at John and Blythe, seriously people needed to get better timing if they didn't want her to lock them up for good.
"Charlie," She asked as she rose from the couch, "Yes sir. Of course, thank you. Two, and Faith. The fifth it is. Alright, have a good night, Charlie."
Hanging up the phone Buffy slapped House upside the head, "You should be nicer to him, especially after that bottle of whiskey he gave us."
"Yeah, but if I was nice to him the world would turn backwards," House reasoned.
"Charlie likes you," Buffy rolled her eyes.
House scoffed before leaning towards his parents conspiratorially, "The president, Charlie, just likes my music collection."
Buffy sighed at the childish antics. Though she could tell he was wearing thin. John and Blythe didn't seem quite sure what to think of their Son's declaration. Buffy just picked up the bottle of pills from his coat jacket and tossed them his way.
House grinned tightly at her and dry swallowed two of his vicodin, "Thanks, Babe."
John saw his wife's smile widen into a full blown grin. Greg was known for never accepting help. Ever. Seeing him allow someone to worry over him cemented his like of the girl. Rising John clapped his son on the back.
"We'd better be going. Let you two kids have some fun," John smiled as he gave Buffy a light hug before leading Blythe out the door leaving two rather stunned people inside.
"Do you know what just happened," Buffy asked an equally puzzled House.
"Pod-people," he questioned almost hopefully.
Buffy bit her lip to keep from smiling, "Well now that we're all alone, I think it's about time I make it up to you for kicking you out last night."
House eagerly followed his girl into their bedroom, the devil's light played in both their eyes.
"You know," he mused as she stripped, "That was probably the least painful visit of all time."
Buffy glared at him, "Shut up and get your pants off," she demanded in a tone that booked no argument.
Hope you all enjoyed—this chapter irritated me and it felt a little off. But you know…hopefully it isn't too bad. Please review.
