I neither own nor have any right to any of this. I am just using it to amuse myself and others.

A Change.

True to his word, House was in, almost, and out, most definitely, of the hospital as quickly as he could go. It was not; however, quick enough for Foreman who had the misfortune of encountering House's taxi as it arrived.

'How's Cameron?' Foreman asked casually as he watched House pay the driver and retrieve his motorcycle helmet from the seat. 'I called her apartment last night, but no one answered.'

'That's because no one was in her apartment.' snipped House as he limped towards his motorcycle, motioning Foreman to follow. He stopped at the bike and began checking it for damage after its overnight stay at the hospital, while Foreman looked on in a bored manner. 'Aren't you supposed to be a neurologist or something?'

'You know I'm a neurologist House, get to your point. I have other things to do than to watch you.'

House stood and glared at Foreman, making him squirm.

'If you're actually a neurologist and you didn't just get your degree from back of a cereal box because it had big words and looked pretty, you might have realized Cameron has a Grade 2 concussion. That's grade two, not one. You know. It's the number that is between one and three. You do know how to count don't you?

Foreman's eyes grew wide as he looked at House. 'Grade 2? No way, she has a sever Grade 1 at the most.'

House stared at Foreman as if he were a particularly dense child.

'Oohhh, let's examine this, shall we? She doesn't walk straight because her equilibrium is crap and she has extreme sensitivity to light. If you would have paid attention and actually, I don't know, read the results of the CT and the MRI, you might have realized this if you would have made the correct diagnosis. Then again, maybe it's just me, or her, who thinks a neurologist should know something about concussions. I'll have to ask her over lunch, but hey, there's probably this entire nausea thing happening which will prevent lunch. To be honest, I can't really tell because of that passing out cold thing she keeps doing.' House rolled his eyes in exasperation to make his point.

Foreman stood looking at House in shock. 'Are you sure?'

House swung his leg over his motorcycle, kicking it off its stand. 'Am I sure? Duh? Yeah, Foreman, I'm sure. Little Greggy does his homework.'

'Noticed any signs of brain damage?' asked Foreman, apprehension welling up in him.

'None. Unless of course you count thinking I am a dead man is a sign of a problem.' Turning the key on the bike, House started its engine.

'What about memory? Is she suffering from any memory loss?' Foreman stepped back as House began to roll the motorcycle away from the curb.

'Only if I am really, insanely lucky,' quipped House.

Foreman looked at him quizzically before replying, 'Aren't you coming in?'

House started to put on his helmet.

'Nope. I have errors. Plus, you're going to go tell Cuddy what a monumental misdiagnosis you've made and that I am going to sue you for malpractice. You are also going to tell Cuddy you are covering both my and Cameron's clinic hours until she is feeling better. If there is a major case, you can call me. Otherwise, I think someone needs to be with Cameron, don't you?'

'Yeah, but we should probably admit her.'

House squinted at Foreman. 'Why? She can sleep just as well in our bed as she can here.' Pushing his helmet in place, House revved the engine of the motorcycle ignoring shouts from Foreman.

'Did you just say our bed?'

'Sorry, can't hear you,' mouthed House before pulling away from the curb and heading for home.

Foreman stood stunned as he watched House disappear through the parking lot 'Did he say our bed?'

When House arrived home after making one or two quick stops on his way, he discovered Cameron was still sleeping peacefully. 'Good,' he thought, 'she needs the rest and sleep will give her body time to heal. Plus, it will give me time to prepare.' Satisfying himself Cameron's pulse and breathing were normal, he fled from the room as the doorbell began to buzz.

'Dr. Gregory House?' asked the florist waiting on the stoop.

'Yes.' House grinned broadly at the large arrangement of flowers, 'yeah bring them right in.' He ushered the man into the living room and showed him where to place the flowers.

'Do you want all of them in here?' asked the florist heading back towards the door.

'Yeah, that's fine,' called House already dismissing the florist presence. 'Just put them anywhere.'

After the man had finished depositing the floral arrangements, House stood examining the room. 'It looks like the botanical gardens,' he mumbled to himself looking at one of the card from the nearest arrangement. 'Get well soon, Love, James.' House glared at the card. 'Love, James? Love?' He glanced at it again, making certain he were reading it correctly. Discovering he was, House ripped the card to pieces, throwing it into the trash. 'Love my ass. Just wait till I get my hands on you Jimmy.' Quickly, he then rushed around the room removing any cards he could locate, and rearranging the flowers in a more pleasing manner, or at least more pleasing in his opinion.

Once he was finished, House gave another quick look around the room. 'One down, three to go.' Grabbing his bag from its spot inside to the door, he limped down the hall.

Cameron awoke to the sounds of a piano. She could tell it was late at night, and wondered how long she had been sleeping. She tried to stretch and then winced, as her various aches and pains reminded her of the incident which had occurred with the Idiot Patient.

Lying back in the bed, Cameron mentally assessed her wounds. It would take weeks for her hand to heal, but already it, like her throat and head, were feeling much, much better. She didn't feel as light-headed and dizzy as she had before, but, she told herself, she wasn't actually out of bed. She listened to the music. It was Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, one of her favorite works.

Unfortunately, the sound of the music instantly brought House to mind, followed rapidly by a flood of anger. How dare him, she thought. She knew he was worried, and that he hated to feel anything really emotional, but it still did not give him the right to scream at her in the way he did. Cameron knew she had scared him. She knew the moment he played knight errant, running, at least his version of running, into the clinic. It was sweet, and loving, and totally unlike him. She wondered if he realized it put his feelings for her on display for all to see. She understood why he had screamed and acted like a total ass, but it still hurt her, deeply.

Rolling over, Cameron reached tentatively for the light, being careful not to pull her body or move her head quickly. She was feeling a lot better, and she really needed to go to the bathroom. As she reached, Cameron's hand hit something, knocking it off the nightstand as she switched on the light. Carefully swinging her legs out of bed, Cameron stood and carefully retrieved the fallen item. It was her husband. In fact it was the picture she kept beside of her bed, the one she talked to when she felt lonely or when she missed him. What was it doing here?

Cameron cast her eyes around the room. House's bedroom was always so masculine. She had tried to add a few feminine touches to it here and there, but each time she did, he would having a screaming fit. Cameron rubbed her head lightly. 'I must still be seeing things,' she thought. The room had been transformed. The furniture was the same, as were the carpeting and curtains, but now there were little things which were different around the room. Her things were around the room. Items from her apartment were neatly mingled with House's. The doll porcelain doll her grandaunt had given her when she was a very small child rested neatly near antique boxing gloves. A broken bookcase filled with playboys and movies was gone. In its place was her dressing table from her apartment. The entire room looked and felt different. As Cameron tried to take it all in, she had to admit, it really looked nice. Her things blended with House's perfectly.

Cameron found she could not ignore her bladder any longer and rushed to the bathroom, pleasantly pleased she could again walk in a straight line. Her head still hurt, but at least now it was a dull throb. After relieving herself, Cameron was again shocked. There was a new floral shower curtain hanging across the tub, with a matching bath set on the floor. Holding her breath, she opened the small linen closet next to the sink and looked inside. The sight caused her to nearly faint. Tampons! It had tampons, make-up, and other female items House despised sitting neatly on the shelf. Pulling back the shower curtain, Cameron discovered her brand of shampoo and favorite soap, sitting next to the one's House liked to use. Flabbergasted and dazed Cameron blinked. 'I'm in the Twilight Zone.'

Daring to see what else had occurred while she was sleeping, Cameron made her way from the bedroom towards the sound of the piano. Chopin. She loved when he played Chopin.

The sight which met her eyes astounded her. Cameron stood, one hand resting on the back of the sofa for support, with her mouth hanging open in astonishment.

House stopped playing the piano and turned to grin at her.

'I see you're awake. How do you feel?'

Cameron, eyes wide, just looked at him, unable to speak.

'What?' House glanced around the room. 'Is it all the flowers, or your things I had brought over? I dared Jimmy and the gang to wake you.'

'Neither,' Cameron managed to croak, her throat still painful and dry.

Fearing she was about the faint and fall again, House rushed to her side and gently led her around the sofa. As they both sat, Cameron turned to House. Reaching up her hand, she gently ran it down the side of his face.

'Careful,' smiled House, his blue eyes twinkling, 'I have severe razor burn. Not to mention I cut myself about thirty times. I kept yelping and was afraid I would wake you up from the cussing.'

'I have never seen you shaven,' was all Cameron found she could utter. Her throat was really dry.

'It was your idea,' smiled House. 'Actually, I think I kind of like it. I can't promise I will manage it all the time, but I will try.' He ran his hand through his hair. 'I'll have to get a haircut too, just to show off the new me.'

'The new you?' asked Cameron staring at his face. She couldn't help it, she had to keep feeling how soft and smooth his skin felt. How much younger he looked without the stubble.

'Well, I can't have my kids saying 'you see that old guy who looks like a bum, that one is my dad.''

'Your kids?'

'Our kids.'

Cameron gasped her eyes about to bug out of her head. 'Do you know something I don't know? Did they run a pregnancy test on me?'

House laughed loudly before leaning forward and gently kissing her. 'No Allison, you're not pregnant, at least not yet. We can try though, as soon as you are feeling better.'

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Cameron tore her eyes away from House and looked around the room. The flowers were beautiful, and like the bedroom, her things were nicely merged with his.

'Now I know I am in the Twilight Zone.'

House laughed loudly again, and took her hand in his own. 'Allison Cameron. In the last three days you have scared me to death, reminded me where I stand in regards to your former husband, which may I add, I plan on doing something about, and have shown me just how deeply I love you. While you have been asleep for the last thirty-eight hours, I have transformed myself and my home for you. I want you to love me as much as I love you.' House raised his arm to indicate the room. 'Get used to it. I can have it all hauled back tomorrow, or we can move the rest in. What do you think?' The look of hope in his eyes was unmistakable.

'Greg, I just woke up from a battering and a concussion…I'm also in shock.'

'Okay,' Cameron could hear disappointment in his voice. 'I'm not going to rush you. When you feel better and you have had time to think clearly; you can make your decision whether you want to marry me or not.'

'Marry you?'

'Yes Allison, marry me.'

Cameron looked into his eyes; she could see he really meant it. 'Yes Greg, I'll marry you, but do we have to keep all these flowers in the house. I like them, and they are pretty, but I have allergies.'

His face spreading in a huge grin, House leaned in and kissed her. 'I'll ditch the flowers, if you will let me set the other hubby someplace except next to the bed.'

Cameron pulled away from him, a frown forming on her face. 'Why?'

'A picture of your first husband is a bit of a killjoy when trying to make love your wife,' answered House honestly, 'that's why I shoved him under the bed that night. I looked at him and lost my… you know,' he looked away in embarrassment.

'I can't throw him away Greg; he is a part of me.'

'I know that. I can accept that too. But, can't we set him someplace other than in the bedroom and beside of the bed? I could dig up a picture of Stacy and we can build a shrine just for the two of them.' House took Cameron's hand in his, stroking it gently. 'Allison, if this is going to work, you are going to have to choose between the living and the dead.'

Tears welled into her eyes, as Allison looked at him. 'I love you Greg, and I want marry you.'

There was a long whistle as House let out his breath. He wasn't even aware he was holding it. 'The moment you feel better, we're getting married,' he leaned forward and tenderly and passionately kissed her.

'Allison?' House asked, pulling back 'how do you feel exactly?'

'Greg, I literally have a headache.'

House laughed. His enjoy flooding out of him.

'I really want a bath too.'

House stood, holding his hand out to her. 'I'll run you one. Maybe, I can even join you?'

Cameron smiled as she allowed him to help her to her feet. 'Only if you bring me a bowl of ice-cream and something very cold to drink.'

Finis

Author's note.

That's it. My very first House fic. Sorry its not my best, I wrote it in a hurry.