**This one has some R-rated goodies in it, so there's your warning! Nothing too descriptive, but it's there nevertheless.**

What If

Chapter Seventeen - Elle is for Love

House was still at the hospital hours later than he usually would be, finally having a case to puzzle over. His one-patient-per-week quota had gone out of the window lately and he'd only had two in a month. Cuddy wasn't particularly pleased about the downscale but she didn't give him too much grief about it, knowing that working on his personal life was much more important for his mental well-being, as well as Cameron's, than fulfilling his quota. He'd still harnessed his brilliance for his last two patients, but he'd been more thorough with histories and procedure, rather than skipping tests and leaping from one rare disease to the next. Cuddy certainly wasn't complaining about that, because she was landed with less to explain to the hospital suits who were constantly on her back about House's...less than conventional methods.

The lucky patient that piqued House's interest this time was a nineteen year old college student who had presented in the ER with facial cellulitis, high-grade fever and cervical lymphadenopathy. House had been perusing the busy emergency room with disinterest, but her case had caught his attention when he overheard another doctor's request for a referral on the premise of diagnosing lymphoma.

Snatching the chart from the bemused ER doc's hands, House skimmed the details and nodded. Chase and Foreman had been bounced between clinic duty (House's clinic duty) and the ER in the two weeks since they'd solved their last puzzle, so when House whistled loudly to get the attention of his Aussie fellow, waving the chart like a flag, the relief on the younger man's face was palpable. He quickly handed off his heart attack patient to another doctor and caught up to House.

Stopping by the clinic, House pointed his cane at Foreman, just as he was walking out of an examination room with an elderly patient.

"Daddy's come to pick you up from day-care. We've got work to do."

Foreman rolled his eyes but was nevertheless glad to get away from wiping noses and placating overly protective parents.

"So, what've we got?"

"Nineteen year old college freshman. Right sided facial cellulitis, cervical lymphadenopathy and high-grade fever. ER doc thinks it's lymphoma; I think he's a moron."

"He's got a point-"

"Thanks for playing. Wanna go back to the clinic? Plenty interesting patients there."

Foreman scowled and folded his arms, silently relenting and accepting the fact that one apparently-obvious case was better than thirty runny noses.

"ER ran the labs," House slapped the sheet of results down on the table in front of his two fellows, "Reactive histiocytes, granulocytopenia, raised ESR and CRP."

"Lupus?"

Chase offered, already steeling himself for the onslaught of abuse they'd all come to expect when they cried Lupus...every single case. But to both his and Foreman's surprise, House gave a succinct nod and moved toward his office.

"Run the ANA, and while you're wasting time with that, get a complement analysis done. Foreman, get a full history again and find out what the ER missed. Oh, and jump the line for a chest CT."

With that, he disappeared into his office to cocoon himself in the comforting silence and let his brilliant mind run in overdrive. He was aware of the fact that Cuddy had been letting him fall short of his quota for the last month, and he was entirely sure that was more for Cameron's benefit than his. Cuddy wanted him to spend more time at home being Cameron's keeper than holed up in his office puzzling over a new case every week. And what unnerved him was that he didn't mind being at home with her. He actually looked forward to the end of the day now, even when he had a case.

Christmas was less than a month away now and the closer it was getting, the more apprehensive House was becoming. He didn't do gift giving, and the gift he'd bought for Cameron wasn't just a token. It made him nervous every time he thought about giving it to her. Even more so after she'd told him she was looking for a new place that morning. Pushing it out of his mind, he threw his oversize tennis ball against the wall and focused his mind back on his patient.

Cameron had decided after their less than pleasant parting that morning that she'd cook a romantic dinner that night (as romantic as she knew he'd be comfortable with) but when House still hadn't walked through the door at ten after seven, she presumed he had a new case. The only time he stayed at the hospital after 4pm was when his focus was solely on a puzzle. She couldn't help wishing she was there too, trying to figure out whatever combination of symptoms were baffling her co-workers and House right at that moment.

After tucking Elle into bed and reading the little girl her favorite storybook, she glanced at the clock for what felt like the fiftieth time. Almost eight. She sighed and covered the two plates of her home-made Spaghetti Bolognese, making room for them in the refrigerator. If he was back before nine, she could always reheat them, she thought hopefully.

Sitting down on the sofa, she switched on the TV, keeping the volume low so as not to wake Elle. The soft hum of the TV lulled her as she sank into the leather sofa, lying on her side with her head resting on a pillow. Bad idea... she thought, as she felt her eyes drifting closed. But she didn't bother to fight it and let herself fall into a peaceful sleep, still in yoga pants and a tank top.

When House got home, he frowned when he saw the TV on but no one watching it, but as he threw his jacket over the back of the sofa, he caught sight of her sleeping there and his face softened. Her hair was loose and her remembered the night before, seeing her looking so small and fragile in the moonlight, sat staring out of his window with her face upturned, as though searching out there for whatever comfort she couldn't get from him in the cold, silent hours before dawn. He loved to watch her sleep, even though he'd never tell her so, because her every worry and sorrow melted away, just for a little while, and he got to see the pure, stunning, unguarded beauty of her.

He silently rounded the sofa, switching off the TV and perching on the table before her, wanting to just hold onto the image of her right in that moment. Her eyes were haunting when they bore into his and he couldn't help but feel like she could see right through to his soul, without even trying. Holding her gaze had always made his heart speed up just a fraction of a second, sometimes faster if she was angry, because pissing her off had always been a thrill for him. She looked sexier than ever to him when he wound her up so tight that she couldn't even fight him with words. She usually just removed herself from the situation to cool down, but not before she'd (unknowingly) made him painfully aware of how hot his lobby art could get him.

And now, she was his. His self-destructive tendencies would usually cause him to push her away, and he knew a big part of him was trying to do so, but for once he wanted to listen to the smaller part insisting he hold on to her and never let go. Perhaps she'd needed him at first, when her marriage blew up - which he'd maybe had a little something to do with, at least as a catalyst - and when her whole carefully-constructed life seemed to be falling apart around her. But now, he most definitely needed her too. Will you be my lifeline?

Her reached forward to touch her cheek, unable to help himself, brushing calloused fingers as delicately as he could across the flawless skin of an angel. She gave a start, eyes suddenly wide and locked onto his. She quickly relaxed when she saw his face and pushed herself up to rest her head on her elbow. Offering him a small smile, she glanced at the clock. Ten fifteen.

"You're home late. New case?"

He nodded. Her voice when she'd just woken up always did things to him. If he was being honest, everything about her did things to him. He wondered if the fact that she was half his age and still wanted him added to his desire for her. She was so much more beautiful than most, if not all, the women he'd been with before and not only that, but she fascinated him. There was something about her that had him addicted to trying to figure her out. He'd come to the point where he was sure he knew every nuance of her...and then she'd do or say something that knocked him all off kilter. She was his favorite puzzle that he would never truly master.

"I made us dinner, it's in the refrigerator. Sorry I fell asleep, I tried to stay up and wait for you."

He knew he should feel guilty, but he didn't. He never did. She was a doctor too, after all, and she knew all too well how he was when he had a new case. But she wasn't mad, or even upset, because she did understand. There'd been nights when Andrew would call her cell all night and she could tell by his tone that he was sceptical about her working double shifts so often. It was kind of refreshing to be with someone who completely understood that their job was so much more than a nine-to-five. If they had a case, they might spend less than three hours at home before being called in again, and most of the time they just found it easier to crash in an on-call room for those precious three hours.

"I'll tell you about the case tomorrow. Let's go to bed."

House pushed himself up, took her hand and gently pulled her to standing. She complied, but instead of moving toward the bedroom, she stood in front of him and draped her around over his shoulders, pulling him down to her for a slow, passionate kiss. Tonight they'd make love and fall asleep tangled around one another...and in the morning she would tell him about Chicago.

He didn't want to move. Every time he woke up to the feeling of her warm body pressed against him, her breathing steady and soft, he wanted to hold onto those moments forever, forget that time existed and simply stay surrounded by her for the rest of his days. The first few times he'd woken up beside her, those thoughts had scared him. But now he'd grown used to them and to the warm fuzzy feelings she gave him. He'd never been one to imagine a lifetime with another person; after five years with Stacy, he still hadn't been comfortable with the word 'forever'. But with Cameron, it had all changed. With her, he somehow couldn't imagine anything less than forever. He'd never been so intoxicated by anything or anyone before. Not even Vicodin could make him feel as high as she did.

Cameron stirred next to him and her eyes opened, still hazy with sleep. As she awoke, he turned his head and met her eyes. She could tell he'd been awake a while and wondered briefly if he'd stayed still just so he didn't wake her. It didn't sound like something he'd do, but lately he'd been surprising her.

"Wanna shower together?"

He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. No "good morning, beautiful", because he hadn't changed that much. In fact, she'd be utterly convinced he'd undergone a lobotomy if she woke up to those words from him. Not that he didn't make her feel beautiful, because he did. Every time he looked at her, his intense gaze burning right through to her soul, he made her feel like she was the only woman on earth. And indeed, to him, she was. The only woman he wanted in his arms, at least. The only woman he wanted to wake up to every morning.

She smiled and he watched with growing desire as she climbed out of bed and stretched, her toned body making him ever-aware of the years between them. As her back arched, he couldn't help but let his gaze drop to her ass, small and pert and perfect, accentuated by the simple black boyshorts she was wearing as underwear. Her smooth skin was like fine porcelain and he knew he could easily admire it all day long. She looked over her shoulder at him then and smiled innocently. He realized then that she knew exactly what she was doing to him and he scowled at her, unable to fight his body from involuntarily responding.

She turned to face him, that sweet smile still on her lips, and pulled her hair tie out to release her brunette locks. She shook her hair loose and bit her lower lip as she found his gaze once more. She knew he preferred her hair down, so he could run his long piano-player fingers through it, and everything she was doing right now was purely for his enjoyment. She could tell from the look on his face and the way his ice blue eyes were almost black with arousal that he was already hard as a rock...and that knowledge was really turning her on.

Torturously slowly for him, she lifted her spaghetti strap cropped top over her head and threw it at him, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her boyshorts. She turned and made for the door, her hips swaying ever so slightly. Stopping at the door, she looked back at him.

"I'll get the water hot. Then you can get me hot."

With that, she disappeared and he swallowed hard while trying to regain some composure, listening as she turned the shower on and let the water heat up. He didn't know how she managed to make him so uncomfortably aroused without even touching him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be able to make it into the shower unless he regained control of his own body. Thinking of as many horrible medical procedures as he could conjure up was actually working, until Cameron's voice floated out to him, her singsong, sultry tone making his heart rate pick up once more.

"House, I'm wet and ready for you."

He quickly made for the bathroom, knowing they had about a half hour before Elle would wake up. He'd cleared out the closet in the hallway and they'd taken the door off it, which had provided just enough space for Elle's crib to fit snugly inside without blocking the whole hallway. They'd certainly made the most of what little space they had.

Shedding his pyjama pants and t-shirt on his way into to the bathroom, all the good work he'd managed in calming himself down was quickly undone when he saw her in the shower, flawless skin glistening in the harsh fluorescent light. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd watched porn before, because the way she was running her hands across her body and lathering the soap, her eyes locked onto his, made him feel like he'd just walked into his own personal porno.

She didn't fuss over him as he awkwardly climbed into the tub with her, which both surprised and impressed him. She'd come to the realization that every time he struggled with his leg and she jumped to help him, it made him even more aware of his disability. And she knew Stacy's constant fussing over his leg had led to him to push her away and resent her, feeling she'd become more of a carer than anything else. And Cameron swore she wouldn't go down that same road. As much as it was against her care bear nature to watch him struggle and not jump to his aid, he needed her to stand back, for the sake of his pride and their future.

Once he was in the tub, he pulled her closer to him, looking down into her eyes and letting his hands slide easily down her back with the flow of the water, coming to rest on that perfect little ass. Squeezing gently, he pressed her body up against his, letting her feel exactly what she was doing to him and when she smiled up at him, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, her tongue touching his instantly and setting a fire inside him. For endless minutes they made out like teenagers, hands roaming and soft hums and moans coming from both of them.

When she pulled back, he looked at her questioningly. But she simply smirked and dropped to her knees carefully in front of him and he was sure he was about to lose it right there and then as he watched her. One of his hands tangled in her wet hair but he let her set her own pace. She was very talented with her mouth, as much as he gave her a hard time in work for her quick sarcasm and attitude on occasion. But what she was doing to him in that moment with that mouth made his head fall back and a groan of pleasure fall from his lips. Not for the first time, he wondered how on earth her dead husband could have cheated on her if he was getting this kind of bliss on the regular. She seemed to like what she was doing too, which only served to turn him on more.

"C-Cameron, you're gonna have to stop if you want me to last longer than five minutes."

He choked out, reluctant to tell her to stop but knowing that if she carried on, their shower fun would be over far too soon. She stood up and licked her lips as she smiled that innocent smile. He couldn't help but feel it was a damning contradiction that her smile could be so sweet and angelic when she'd just been doing such naughty things with those same lips.

She placed a quick kiss on his lips before turning round and leaning forward, splaying her hands against the wall in front of her and sticking her ass out toward House.

"Let's skip the foreplay, I'm all ready for you."

She told him matter of factly as she looked over her shoulder at him. He smirked and playfully slapped her ass and she shook her head, sighing in mock exasperation but with her tone still light.

"You're not putting it in my ass. But I just thought this would be the easiest position for standing up."

She was right in her assumption, and he found it even easier on his leg than he'd hoped. She helped as much as she could, but very quickly his leg pain was pushed to the back of both of their minds, the pleasure they were creating providing a very effective distraction. She was vocal and he loved that, but with Elle still asleep in the hallway, she was reining it in. He loved hearing her hiss his name every time he hit her sweet spot, and very soon he was speeding up as he felt his own pleasure building to the point of no return.

His fingers were surely going to leave bruises on her hips, but neither of them cared. It wasn't long before he pushed her over the edge, feeling her whole body shaking and wondering if her legs were going to hold her up through the intensity of it. Hearing her gasps of pleasure as her orgasm ripped through her sent him over the edge just a few seconds after and he held her hips tight, head dropped back with a groan catching in his throat. They stayed still for a few moments, floating back down to earth from the incredible highs they'd just reached together. Every time felt like the first time with her; he'd never experienced that kind of dizzying satisfaction before.

She straightened up and turned round to face him, leaning forward and kissing him deeply, which he responded to in kind, his hands cupped around her neck, pulling her closer. He could never get her close enough and the more he had of her, the more addicted he became. They kissed lazily under the warm flow of the water, until they heard Elle's small voice from the other side of the door calling for her mother. Cameron smiled up at House and he gave her one last quick kiss before carefully climbing out of the, grabbing a nearby towel and wrapping it around himself.

He left Cameron washing her hair and quickly dried off in the bedroom, pulling on jeans and a t-shirt and padding into the hallway where Elle was sat patiently waiting by the bathroom door.

"Grag."

She hadn't quite mastered his name yet. The toddler pointed at him with a big smile on her face and he couldn't help the small smile that touched his own lips. He really had grown rather attached to the tiny human who had come into his life quite unexpectedly. He'd never wanted kids, part of him convinced that he'd only end up hurting them the way his own father had hurt him. It just wasn't in his genes to be good at thing parenting thing, was it? He'd never been able to imagine himself as a father, certainly not to someone else's child. But he felt inexplicably protective of the little blonde creature sitting in his hallway. Maybe it was because Cameron came with strings attached, and having feelings for Cameron meant taking on her strings too, in the form of an adorably cute and endlessly endearing 19 month old.

Picking the little girl up as she held her arms out for him, he headed into the kitchen with her perched comfortably on his hip. He was becoming surprisingly adept at juggling a toddler on his hip and cooking breakfast. He made pancakes for the three of them, tossing them onto plates and squirting maple syrup in the design of a smiley face onto Elle's pancakes. He scooted over to the refrigerator and peered inside. Cameron kept his shelves and refrigerator almost as well-stocked as Wilson had when he'd crashed at House's place following his second and third divorces. He retrieved the blueberries and raspberries from the refrigerator and sliced up some banana pieces. Elle watched, mesmerized by the colors on her plate, her face a picture of happiness as he gave her pancakes blueberry eyes, raspberry hair and a banana smile.

Settling the little girl into her high chair, he set the breakfast down in front of her along with a plastic fork and spoon. She squealed with delight and he watched her with that small smile tugging at his lips. Never would he have thought that making pancake smiley faces would become one of the things that brought him a little joy. He turned then and caught sight of Cameron leaning against the door frame wrapped in a towel, her smile warm and her eyes shining. He wondered how long she'd been watching them for and moved toward the cupboard to grab two cups for their morning coffee.

"I love watching you with her."

She said simply, knowing he'd always had doubts about being a father to any child, never mind one that wasn't even his. It made her heart swell with love when she watched them together. He wasn't nearly as awkward with her as she'd expected him to be. In fact, she'd go as far as saying he looked downright comfortable playing daddy.

As he handed her a cup of freshly brewed coffee, she took a deep breath. She needed to tell him about Chicago sooner rather than later. Their flight was in four days and she was only avoiding the subject because she was worried he'd get the wrong idea and not give her chance to explain.

"House, I'm going back to Chicago next week."

He looked up at her sharply, questions in his eyes and a faint glint of hurt. She could see he was steeling himself, his shoulders suddenly tense. Did he think she was leaving him, the one constant other than her daughter in her life right now?

"Just for a week or two. I'm not going back for good. But...my family don't know what happened and...well, it's not exactly the kind of news I want to break to my mom on the phone. If she has a heart attack when I tell her, at least I won't be eight hundred miles away."

The tension in his stance eased and he nodded. She continued.

"I told her Andrew died. I didn't give her anymore than that and if I go sooner rather than later, I don't have to deal with Christmas at home. I couldn't face sitting across the table from Abbie yet. And besides, I wanna spend Christmas with you."

She offered him a small smile and he nodded again, wondering if he was supposed to offer to accompany her to Chicago. But then how would they explain his presence? That was probably something she'd be withholding from her mother, but if he went, the older woman would no doubt see right through whatever explanation they gave for him being there. Regardless, he was still musing over whether he was at least meant to offer.

"Do you...want me to come with you?"

He'd expected her surprise, after all, he never offered to do anything he didn't want to do, and they both knew that meeting her mother was not on his top ten list. She walked over to him and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, running her delicate fingers across his stubbled cheek and smiling up at him.

"I appreciate the fact that you asked when we both know you'd rather do an extra week of clinic duty," he smiled ruefully and shrugged in agreement, "but no, it's okay. This is something I need to face by myself. I won't be gone too long. I got the okay from my shrink and I booked a flight for Tuesday."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and looked down at her.

"As long as you don't decide to stay there indefinitely."

She shook her head firmly.

"I can solemnly swear that after two weeks I'll be ready to commit. I love my mom and all, but she over-cares."

"Sounds like someone I know."

She slapped his arm and scowled playfully at him, breaking out of his embrace and moving toward the hallway.

"Yeah, yeah, my care-bear nature is a genetic gift. Just wait until she comes to visit. My mom makes me look like the Ice Queen."

House feigned horror and she scowled at him again before disappearing off to the bedroom to get dressed. He turned to see that the majority of Elle's pancake smiley faces were in her hair, on her face and splattered around her on the kitchen island. She beamed at him with the same deceptively innocent smile she shared with her mother. He rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself as he freed her from the high chair and cleaned up the pancakey mess she'd surrounded herself with. He wondered for a moment how she'd managed to get quite so many blueberries squashed and tangled in her blonde locks. Giving her face a quick wipe with a damp kitchen towel, he pointed toward the hallway and with his other hand made a soldier salute.

"To the bathroom, soldier! Report for duty!"

He ordered and she squealed with delight, marching in toddler steps through the hallway to the bathroom with her tiny hand in salute, House limping right behind her.

Eleanor Marie Cameron did not like cleaning up after messy play or dinner time. House had witnessed many tantrums to do with cleaning up...and he'd found a way to get around it. Maybe that was because he occasionally shared the mentality of a child, or maybe it was because he'd hated being cleaned up after playing in the dirt when he was a kid and his mother had made it into a game. He was using the exact same game to get Elle to comply. House's father had been a pilot in the Marines and as a young child, most of his games were to do with soldiers or what he imagined his father's job entailed. His mother had made games out of everything he didn't want to do and House had found this strategy very effective with Elle.

Removing her sticky fruit-covered pyjamas, House stood the toddler in the bathtub and removed the shower head from it's holder, heating up the water against the side of the bath before turning it toward the child. She shrieked and he gave her a stern look.

"Soldiers don't shriek. If you want to complete Mission Blueberry, you gotta help out, Captain Elle."

Looking sheepish and pouting a little, she pointed to the kids' shampoo on the bathroom shelf. He nodded.

"You located the shampoo bottle. Good work, soldier."

She grinned and saluted him, which he couldn't help but chuckle at considering she was stood in the bathtub, soaking wet, with fruit in her hair. She really was adorable. After washing out the sticky fruits and turning off the shower, he wrapped the little girl up tight in her pink fluffy towel and lifted her out of the bath.

"Ready for take-off?"

She squealed with delight and enthusiastically nodded. Making airplane noises and carrying her under one arm, he limped toward the bedroom, hoping Cameron had picked out clothes for Elle to wear. That was one area he didn't think he'd ever succeed in. If he was left to dress her, no doubt she'd look like a schizophrenic, colorblind homeless kid, in various clashing colors and mismatched socks and shoes.

Luckily, Cameron had laid out a complete outfit on the bed and turned to flash him a smile as he entered the room with her daughter under his arm, squirming and squealing with laughter. She had the hairdryer on so his airplane noises were drowned out, but nevertheless he completed the journey with a gentle landing on the bed. Elle lay giggling, still wrapped up like a little caterpillar in the pink towel that looked huge in comparison to her.

He stood and watched Cameron drying her hair for a moment and she met his gaze in the mirror, smiling warmly at him. He wasn't sure how his life had suddenly become to comfortable domesticated, but he knew for sure that he liked it. If someone had told him six months before that this would be his life now, he'd have mocked them and sent them for psych evaluation. A lot had changed, slowly and then all at once. He usually fought change, but he'd been the catalyst this time. One gesture. One person. One moment at a time. And those moments of change had added up to his life being a completely different picture now. This new picture wasn't shades of grey anymore, the way the old one had been. There were colors he'd never seen before, and the light Cameron had suddenly brought into his life had blinded him in the beginning. Now, he was starting to adjust to the brightness and really open his eyes to all the little, ordinary things he hadn't even realized he'd wanted. He couldn't screw this up, because he sure as hell didn't want to go back to the black and white picture she'd freed him from.