Here's chapter 3. I'm glad you guys are liking this sequel so far. I'm actually happy with the way it's going myself, which is…incredibly amazing, actually. Anyway, not much to say about this one. And as always, reviews are my brain food!

"Ladies and gentlemen, we've begun our decent into the Milwaukee area, and we're about twenty minutes away from landing. The captain has turned the seat-belt sign back on, and will… "

Cameron closed her eyes, tuning out whatever the flight attendant was saying. House was asleep on her shoulder, his deep snores reverberating in her ear. From where she sat, she could see hardly anything out the window, except for the occasional patch of city lights when the plane dipped closer to the ground. Since it was about a forty-five minute drive to her parent's house, she and House had hotel reservations for the night. It was almost a last chance for either of them to change their minds.

Cameron rolled her shoulders, in an attempt to wake House up, but all it earned her was a louder snore.

"God, you are so difficult," she said quietly to the seat in front of her.

"But you love me."

Glancing down, she met those electric cerulean eyes.

Cameron felt her stomach drop as the plane lurched closer to earth. Instinctively, she reached for House's hand, waiting for the moment they would once again touch the ground. She wasn't afraid of flying, necessarily. It was just that she had seen too many horror movies in her lifetime. And…there it was; the first rough contact. House squeezed his fingers around hers, in a silent offering of comfort.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Milwaukee. The local time is eight forty-seven, and the temperature is seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit. For our passengers continuing on to Memphis, please see the screens directly inside the terminal for updated departure information. On behalf of Delta airlines, we hope you enjoyed your flight, and thank you for choosing Delta for all your travel needs."

Hot air danced across her neck as House scoffed at the flight attendant's latest announcement.

"Why do they even bother if their words are just going to drip with insincerity anyway?" he asked lightly.

"Leave it to you to be the cynical maniac," she replied. People around them had started moving for their bags, and she had finally succeeded in shoving House off of her, so she got to her feet to find the backpack.

"Hotel tonight?" House asked, coming to stand in front of her as she rummaged around in the overhead bin, collecting all the things that managed to fall out of the pack during the flight.

"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't be up to driving after the flight." She zipped up the pack and slung it over her shoulder. She focused her attention back on House, who had an evil grin plastered on his face. It didn't take a genius to know what was going on inside that head of his. "For God's sakes House, don't you ever think of anything else?" she hissed.

"I'm a man. Of course I don't think of anything else." He smirked, leaning in to her ear, so that what he said next would not be broadcasted to the whole of first class. "How could I when I've got the best fuck in the state?" The shudder that ran through her body at his words made his breath catch in his throat.

"Jesus, House," she gasped. Her features quickly slid into a glare, and she turned to follow the train of people off the plane. She heard him chuckle behind her as he tapped his cane to the floor, hurrying after her.

House was greatly amused to find a tag that read 'Special attention – DO NOT HOLD' stapled onto his suitcase when it came around on the carousel.

"Looks like they learned their lesson," he said cheerily, holding the bag up for Cameron to see.

She snorted softly, and mumbled something that sounded like, 'No kidding. You probably scarred those poor people for life,' as she reached for her own suitcase. House had, in fact, packed for her, but instead of his promised choice of…attire, he had seemingly thrown everything from the closet that appeared to belong to her into the bag. It amazed her that she could actually lift the thing.

"Come on," she said, hitching the backpack higher onto her shoulder. "Let's go see if we can get us a cab to the hotel." House nodded, a look of grim determination set onto his face and followed, expertly syndicating wheeling the suitcase with walking. Cameron was slightly ahead of him, and he could tell that she was deliberately trying to keep her pace slow enough so he could keep up; plane rides tended to tense up his leg.

They were nearly to the large sliding glass doors (which, strangely enough, reminded him of home), when Cameron stopped dead in her tracks, almost causing House to trip over her.

"Daddy?"

House could hear the mixture of astonishment and apprehension in her voice. He followed her gaze outside, where an older man was leaning against a green pick-up truck, examining the slowly disintegrating cigarette between his fingers. Even if Cameron hadn't said anything, he would've known right-out that this man was her father. The expression he currently wore on his face was the exact same as the one Cameron often sported when she was trying to solve one of his diagnostic puzzles.

Cameron glanced back at House, her face overcome with terror, before hurrying forward and through the door. His legs suddenly seemed to be made of lead, as he went after her with a questionable amount of difficulty. Cameron's father had glanced up as his daughter came stalking out the door, tossing the cigarette to the pavement. Leaning against a cinderblock column, House watched the little reunion before him.

"There's my little buttercup!" Mr. Cameron exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. Cameron, who still seemed to be in shock, moved into her father's arms, falling back into an embrace she'd nearly forgotten. It had been so long since she'd been home, since she'd seen her family, yet it still struck her as amazing that she'd managed to forget the way she felt when she was in his arms.

"Hey Daddy," she said softly. Her eyes flitted up to House, who was trying his best not to smirk at her. She could tell, even in the shadows, that he was in pain. She hadn't seen him take a Vicodin since after take-off. Before she'd even confirmed their travel plans, she'd warned her family not to stare at House or ask awkward questions. She was pretty sure how he would appear to them, and she just did not want to have to deal with any of it.

"How was your flight?" Mr. Cameron asked, pulling away so he could toss her suitcase into the truck.

Cameron leaned up against the passenger door, casting an apologetic look at House. "Daddy, what are you doing here? We'd thought-"

"We?"

"Oh." She shook her head and moved closer to House. He could still tell how flustered she was, even with so few words and actions. "Daddy, this is Hou-Greg. Greg, this is my Dad, Jack." House put on his most amiable smile, and held out his hand.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, sir," he said, sounding sincere. If Cameron was taken aback at all by this, she did a good job of hiding it.

"Same," Jack returned, smiling broadly. Cameron was greatly relieved to see that her father's eyes didn't even linger on House's cane. "Well, though it is a beautiful night, I'm sure you two are tired after your trip. What do you say we get you home?" Dropping House's hand, he reached for House's suitcase, lifting it as though it were merely a pillow, and tossed it into the truck alongside Cameron's.

"I am so sorry," Cameron whispered desperately into House's ear as she opened the truck door. He just smiled blandly as she climbed into the backseat, because there was no way he'd be getting back there.

"So how was your flight?" Jack asked once they'd pulled away from the curb.

"Fine, Daddy," Cameron answered vaguely.

"Just fine? Now, Allison…" he prodded with a faint warning tone.

"It was a little bumpy and there was an annoying old man snoring on my shoulder the whole way." Only House was able to catch the faint note of sarcasm in her voice. Jack cast a sidelong glance in House's direction at the mention of an 'old man,' but didn't comment.

"Your mother will be happy to see you."

Behind him, House heard a quiet scoff, followed by a grumbling of, "I'm sure she will," which he nearly missed.

All conversation seemed to have ended there, and House figured he'd escaped any idle chitchat with Cameron's father. He'd pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching darkened fields passing by outside. Cameron had, somewhat mistakenly, convinced him that she'd grown up in the middle of nowhere, spending her days milking cows and such. He'd had a hard time envisioning her on a farm, but then his imagination had gotten a little too carried away and as a result, he'd needed to take a cold shower.

As soon as the sound of soft, even pathetic snoring came from the back seat, Jack began talking again.

"So, Greg, what line of work you in?" House tried not to gape – what had Cameron told her family about him?

"Uh…" he hesitated; maybe there was a reason she hadn't told them? "Medicine."

"Oh? You work at the hospital with Allison then?"

Good thing he was a seasoned liar, or rather, twister of the truth.

"Yeah, we're…colleagues."

"I suppose you can tell that we don't know a whole lot about you, Greg," Jack said seriously. "But, from what we have heard…" His eyes drifted from the road briefly, so he could meet House's. "We're real glad she found you. I don't think she's ever been so happy."

Inwardly flinching, House turned his gaze back out to the black landscape. He knew how Cameron felt about him - she didn't need to say anything, it was in everything she did – but to hear the account from someone who really knew her made it that much more intense.

He may have drifted off after that, but when his eyes had focused again, he noticed that they were stopped beside a three story blue farmhouse. It appeared that all the white trim had been repainted more often than the peeling blue of the house. There were lights on in what seemed to be every visible window. Jack came round to House's door, and opened it, mentioning that it no longer opened from the inside.

"How long was I out?" Cameron asked tiredly as she hopped out from the back seat.

"Sweetheart, you were out before you even got in the truck," Jack informed her, smiling. He lifted their bags out of the back, and carried them into the house.

"I'm going to apologize right now for anything that they may say while we're here," Cameron said urgently, as though if she didn't say it, House would just leave.

"Come on, they can't be that bad." He grabbed her hand, and followed the path Jack had taken into the house.

Cameron felt like she was being lead to her own execution.