She Likes Him, Not Just the Color of His Eyes

Tuesdays would never be quite normal for Cameron after Chase. Neither would the phrase "I like you." More than once she'd wondered what the result of her acting that pathetic with House once a week would have been. She's sure it would not have ended with a relationship. She had been into needy then. So, somehow, it seemed like a good enough substituted for the needy bastard she really wanted to need her.

Chase. God what a colossal fuck up she'd made of that. And she might deserve an oscar for convincing her own self that her reasons for leaving were noble. Honestly, she did need to get away from House. But not for the reasons she claimed. Working with him again had only reminded her that she loved him, wanted him, more than her own husband. House's lack of moral compass was an easy target for the blame and she took aim and shot a bullseye.

Cameron nodded to the owner of the little Bed and Breakfast as she refilled her coffee cup, then turned to House. "I'm glad you talked me into this. It's nice. I haven't had a real vacation in a long time." What was the point? She didn't have anyone to spend it with. Awkward family visits were her only breaks from work these days.

House had convinced her the night before, as she popped the cork on the third bottle of wine, that both of them would benefit from not being locked in her apartment all week. She wondered if he'd suddenly mastered the subtle hint, but then he handed her his glass to be filled and didn't blink when she filled her own.

He went on to explain that he was always worried about random encounters with people who might know him in large cities. He had former colleagues in most the major hospitals in Chicago. Been to conferences there many times as a speaker (yet another thing he resented Cuddy for).

And, of course, the massive numbers of cameras everywhere in the modern world. Not just security, but nearly every person had a smartphone pointing it around documenting every sip of coffee, every plate of food, every random thing of interest might inadvertently catch him in the background and be seen by a friend of a friend of a friend that knew Gregory House.

Compounding those factors with wandering around with someone he'd known from his old life made the odds of something happening while they were out together that could blow his cover far too high. He liked his new life. He wanted to keep it.

Not long into an internet search, they found the little farmhouse B and B out in the Indiana countryside, somewhere between Gary and Roselawn. They drove there after breakfast Tuesday morning and made it by lunch. Though it wasn't part of the 'internet package' for the first day, they arrived to find food prepared for them. Full country breakfast for lunch. Cameron wasn't sure if that qualified it as a brunch. Somehow the term seemed pretentious in this setting.

Their hostess, Margaret, was a stocky woman in her mid-sixties who dressed in jeans and flannel with her once dark hair, now half grey pulled back in a ponytail. Margaret was the kind of gal that could chop her own wood or stack a literal ton of hay bales. She worked what was left of her husband's family farm alone.

Most the fields she'd rented out to neighboring farms for income, save the south forty where she still farmed soy and raised a small stock of sheep and a few cattle. Around the farmhouse, she had a henhouse and made breakfast with eggs from her own chickens. With it she served thick cut bacon and brewed Folgers coffee in a percolator that looked like it could have been left to her from her own grandmother.

She took to 'Donny' immediately as his Jesus look apparently reminded her of her late husband, who'd died in a farming accident when he was around House's age. House laid on a layer of charm he normally reserved for working girls, ass pinching and all, and coaxed out Margaret's true nature, rather than one she might normally put on for company. Taking him in, her language quickly became coarse and laced with, as Spock might say, "colorful metaphors." And she teased him like they'd know each other their whole lives.

He loved every minute of it.

Cameron had never known this side of House. She liked him this way. Honestly, she liked him any way he came. She definitely liked him when he was coming inside of her. With that thought, she blushed while she sipped coffee and observed him affectionately over the rim of the cup.

"Better watch out Donny boy. Ally's got bedroom eyes." Margaret teased him with a nudge of her hip to his shoulder as she refilled his cup.

He smiled. Allison found him ridiculously charming in his flannel top that he'd bought at Wal-mart along the way so he'd 'blend in', his longish yet uncombed hair poking out from a green John Deer cap. She even loved his currently brown eyes. "You know, Marge, she's into threesomes. So maybe we both need to be careful."

"Ah, g'on now. Hush! Pretty girl like her isn't likely to have a granny fetish, but the likes of you… no tellin' what kind of nasty shit a son of a bitch like you might like. I've already locked up the sheep." Cameron snorted up her coffee. It burned like all hell, but she couldn't stop laughing. House wasn't far behind with a belly laugh the likes of which she'd never heard from him. Ever.

All the while, Margaret was the picture of calm and serious. "It's not funny. Little Anne is a trollop and if she caught wind of Don Juan here, she'll be battin' those big round brown eyes right back at his and tossin' on her harness. You might never get 'im back."

Sucking in air, and straightening her hair, Allison did her best to compose herself, but broke down again as soon as she made eye contact with House, whose eyes sparkled back at her even through his brown contacts. It's funny, she sometimes wondered if the whole attraction thing was because of his blue eyes, but his looks still conveyed every undercurrent of emotion in dark shades of brown.

Later in the day, they stood by the picture window in the living room. It had snowed heavily early in the morning and white stretched out for as far as the eye could see. "Let's build a couple of snowmen." He suggested in her ear as she leaned into his chest and enjoyed how he freely wrapped himself around her, showing her an affection she'd always wanted from him.

"Okay. Think Margaret has some dressing for them?"

"Oh, I bet that old bird has all kinds of stuff around here. Wonder if she has some sex toys? We could make them anatomically correct. Ooohhh, we could make them having sex with each other… or maybe a snow-sheep!"

"God… you're like a 12-year-old boy."

He hugged her to him and kissed her temple. "You love it though."

She had no idea what to say to that. She did love it. She loved him. Her arms were wrapped around his in a way she could feel his pulse quicken as she stood there silently — his words still hanging in the air. It almost made her think he might mean something by them, but she couldn't risk her own heart any more than she was.

With a sigh, she turned and smiled. "Let's go ask… just not about the sex toys."

"Spoilsport."

Margaret did have all the traditional trimmings around and they built two very dashing snowmen and decided to call them Patrick and Ian, since they seemed to look like they might have a bit of a bromance between them. Afterward, they played in the snow like kids, tossing balls and making snow angels. That is until House had a muscle spasm in his bad leg that quickly ended their perfect moment.

Lucky for them, Margaret was a stout woman and used to having to do heavy lifting around the farm. Cameron couldn't have gotten him back in the house otherwise. When Margaret asked what had happened with his leg, he just muttered out "war wound" and she took it a face value, though Cameron knew it was from a war of a completely different sort.

The pain became so bad he passed out.

"Hey, there. Welcome back." Cameron said in soft voice as she held his hand and observed him from her seat on the edge of the bed. "I tried to find you something for the pain, but you didn't have anything in your bag stronger than Advil."

"Yeah… I promised Wilson. I do regular P.T. now too. I guess I've been neglecting my routine in favor of sex." She looked instantly guilty, although she knew he was joking. "Hey, now. It wasn't that. It was the cold and rolling the snowmen. I haven't been out in the cold for that long in years. Much less pushing around a giant snowball."

"I thought you seemed to be moving better, but I didn't pay any attention to what kind of pills you were popping. I just assumed Vicodin, I guess. It's not like you generally came off as being high…"

"Yeah. Look, I know, you know, that House never did well with… sympathy, so before I forget that Don Johnson is not nearly as big a bastard as his predecessor, maybe you could give me a few minutes alone to get up and stretch out. Then we can go on with our sex-cation because this really isn't that big of a deal."

She could see he needed his space and, though she wanted to take care of him, she respected that his request. "Okay. I'll be downstairs. Margaret is putting up her Christmas tree. I offered to help."

She stood and walked to the door as she was closing it, he called out. "Save the topper. I want to see your stunning little ass as you tip-toe on the ladder to put it on the tree."

A half-hour later, House wandered out of the bedroom and took a seat by the fire. The women had the tree placed in front of the window and were busy adorning it. "I see you're back in the land of the living." Margaret called to him which caused he and Cameron to share a knowing glance.

"So it would seem. You got any bourbon in this place?" He was still in pain. Both women could see it, but neither showed him pity. "Got something better. How d'ya feel 'bout moonshine?"

House smirked and his eyes sparkled. "I think you're a very naughty lady, Marg. Santa is going to leave you extra coal this year for sure."

"Ha! Good. Coal prices have been high as hell this year," she puts down her bobble and heads to the kitchen talking all the way. "Besides, I'll just leave him a little snort in his eggnog. It's a cold trip. Helps keep 'im warm." A minute later, she is back with a coffee mug with a three finger pour. "Careful. This is the high octane stuff. I'd offer to cut it with something, but you don't strike me as the type."

He nodded and took a sip, his eyebrows raised in in approval of the harsh burn. "That'll either kill the pain or kill me." With that, he took another more normal drink, now that his expectations had been set.

Cameron could feel his eyes on her as she stretched and bent while decorating the tree. Marge let her top it off. House whistled and catcalled. Afterward, she joined him on the sofa, by the fireplace, curling up and enjoy the glow of the flames and the newly lit tree.

"I've gotta feed the livestock. I'll be back in a half hour or so. Try not to get into too much trouble and don't do anything I wouldn't do," she winked. Donning her heavy coat and high mud boots, she headed out the door and jumped on her ATV to head toward the barn on the south forty.

As soon as they heard the vehicle pull away their hands began to wander, and lips began to kiss. She gave him a look of concern as she climbed into his lap. She'd not given his leg any thought during sex until now. He waved off her look and pulled her down onto his hardening cock. "This isn't what hurts. I forgot my limits today. This—" he pushed against her through the layers of jean "this only feels good."

She took him at his word and began unbuttoning the flannel shirt, revealing a more familiar red graphic tee underneath. His chest was warm and firm under her hands, his lips soft under her own. He tasted like alcohol and she liked it just a little too much as she sucked his tongue into her mouth and ground herself against the growing bulge in his jeans.

"We really should go to the bedroom." She protested weakly, with no real intention of leaving the couch.

"We really should do a lot of things, but it's more fun to do the things we shouldn't." He replied and pulled her sweater and camisole over her head together and had her bra following closely behind. "Motherhood suits your boobs. I would have liked to have sucked them while you were still nursing." He emphasized his lude confession by demonstrating before continuing "It's always been something I've wanted to try. Since my mother denied me the pleasure."

"Yeah, no way you were breastfed. Oh fuck, baby, that's good. Mmmm just like that!" She moaned as his mouth latched onto her left tit and suckled gently.

"Like that? I bet I can make you come just from sucking on your nipples. But don't think we have the time right now, unless you really do want to get caught fucking on Marge's couch."

Cameron laughed and shook her head. "No, not on the agenda for today."

"Get up and take your pants off, go grab a condom, then get back here and fuck me. We don't have all day." He ordered with a smack to her ass and watched her get up, drop her pants and then run to the bedroom to fetch the condoms they'd wisely decided to purchase on their way here. They'd been a little buzzed and a little stupid when he'd quickly run out at her place.

She was right, he couldn't wear normal sized condoms with any level of comfort and the one time they tried, it killed his boner. She'd never gone back on the pill after her bad episode with them. Why bother figuring out if another kind worked? She didn't have a regular lover. She wasn't so out of it she'd not use a condom with a stranger. She'd always been on the pill with her steady boyfriends, which is how she managed to forget the condom with Ray, having been used to condom free sex with him.

The dangerous game of pull and pray was something she'd never done with another man before House. Grand plans for her to hit the drugstore after breakfast on Monday were forgotten when breakfast turned to sex play. They did it on a whim like horny teenagers playing with fire. Of course, they liked it and did it again. Many times, in fact.

She trusted him. She had not idea why. As a doctor, she knew better than to think the method was safe but she wanted — no — needed to feel him raw. Needed to know what he felt like skin on skin. She was frightened by how much she craved for him to come inside her.

Having a child with House was about the worst idea in the history of humanity. At least within the confines of whatever 'relationship', for lack of a better term, they were currently engaged in. He would call it a matter of biology. They were compelled to breed because of compatible pheromones. She knew it was more than that. If he didn't stop himself, she would have let him.

Lucky for her, he had more willpower.

On Tuesday morning, soberer and less horny, they'd wisely decided to get a big ass box of Magnums on the way out of town and he seemed determined to be a good boy and use them.

She returned from her condom retrieving mission to find he was now naked, sitting on his t-shirt to protect Margaret's couch. With a wink, she dropped to her knees and rolled the condom on him with her mouth. He grunted his approval, then tugged on her arm to get her to sit on him again.

This time she dared to look him in the eye as she sank on him, hoping the color change would shield her from the intimacy. The feeling in the pit of her stomach told her she'd hoped in vain. But neither of them could look away this time. His demeanor changed. With his hands on her hips he slowed her strokes — forced her to make love to him. She didn't protest. His eyes told her everything — his fear, his pain, his longing. She was sure she even saw love there. She kissed him, and even the kiss was different. Reverent, slow, tender, satisfying.

Their bodies and eyes told each other the story that they couldn't put in words. They were on borrowed time, and they knew it. "I want you to come with me, Allison. I want you to look at me while we come." She could only bite her lip and nod as his thumb found her clit and their pace increased. Their gazes were fixed, both refusing to even blink. When their release came he shed a single tear, and she kissed it away, sure both their hearts were breaking.

Their evening plans of wandering around a small town to do a little shopping and having and drink and a meal in public together were buried under two feet of snow. The snow plows didn't come out this far for sometimes days after a big snow. The Camry House had rented, and insisted they drive so he wasn't seen in her car, wasn't going anywhere in this mess. If they'd been wise they'd have looked at the weather report before leaving. Neither one, however, were known for being wise.

Margaret was under no obligation to feed them more than breakfast, but being the friendly country sort she was, had already feed them lunch and offered a simple home cooked dinner as well. When Cameron tried to pay her extra she gave the younger woman a death glare and told her to put her money back in her pocketbook.

There wasn't much in the form of entertainment at the farm home. She lived too far out in the middle of nowhere to have cable or internet service. Cameron wondered how the hell her place managed to get onto the internet rental site. She did have an antenna that pulled in the local channels for the major three networks, though CBS tended to be fuzzy more often than not.

Cameron was reminded of her father's parents' home. It had been like that growing up. And she'd spent many summer weekends with them, playing board games and exploring outside. It was a nice departure from the city life she was accustomed to now.

The one silver lining was she turned her phone on to find it had a few bars of cell phone reception, though the idea of 4g or even 3g was completely out of the question. She could at least call Greg from her own number later to tuck him in, which would hopefully keep Ray from asking questions she had no desire to answer.

After dinner, Cameron cleared the table and House helped do dishes. Cameron watched his easy way with Margaret while performing this menial chore and thought about all the times she'd imagined what it might be like to live with House. Would he be the same asshole he was at work, ordering her around expecting her to clean up after him? Or maybe he was different there. He did manage to live with a professional woman for five years and Cameron could not imagine Stacy taking orders and cleaning up his shit. Stacy had confirmed he had always been a jerk, but she'd said it in a way that make Cameron think it wasn't that cut and dry.

He did the work as if he'd done it a million times before. Washing as Margaret dried and put things away. He joked and splashed her a couple of times. She grabbed the sprayer once and nailed him right in the face. Cameron wondered if he was like this with his mother as a boy.

It was so entirely domestic and so far from the House she'd worked with. Had he always been like this? Had Wilson's death changed him? Was the answer maybe not so cut and dry? She gave up on the train of thought and resided once again to simply enjoy the moment while she had it. After finishing cleaning the table, she snuck off into the bedroom to call Greg.

Ray, of course, answered the phone. "Hey. I called your work early to ask you something. They said you had some sort of family emergency. I tried your cell and didn't get an answer. You okay? Your folks okay?" He sounded genuinely concerned and she hated him for it. She hated work for telling him her business, when she'd made it clear, more than once, that they should just take a message and be as vague as possible when it came to calls from her ex-husband.

She wasn't sure what lie to spin having not thought that far ahead. Her parents were still close enough to Ray that she couldn't involve them in the lie. So she decided to pepper the truth with just enough of a lie to make the whole thing work. "You remember I told you my old friend stopped by?"

"Yeah. Jesus guy… Don, I think you said."

"Yeah. Well he came to visit me because of his mother. She's sick and none of her doctors can figure out why. She's been to every specialist and expert in her hometown and they've come up blank. She's refusing to drive into the city to a bigger hospital. He asked me to visit her in her home as a favor to him. He helped me get my first job with House, and well, I felt I owed him and I had a ton of leave built up. She lives out in the middle of nowhere Indiana in a senior living facility. So we drove down last night. Now it looks like we might be stuck here for a while. There's like two feet of snow outside.

"Oh. Okay. Where are you staying?" Now there was the Ray she knew with a hint of jealousy and accusation in his tone.

"With his Aunt Margaret. She's got a little sheep farm just outside Roselawn. Big farm house, lots of empty room to put us up. Anyway, I didn't want to worry you with it. Work shouldn't have mentioned it. What did you need?"

He sighed. "Nothing major, well, actually it's sort of major. Little Greg seems to have misplaced Stuart. I was just calling to see if he'd left him at your place."

Cameron's heart sank for the boy and she kicked herself for being so distracted as to let him forget his stuffed animal. "Oh. Is he okay?"

"He had a bit of a meltdown at nap time today, but we got through it. I hated it for him, but he'd acted like it was no big deal Sunday night and Monday. I thought it's probably a sign he's ready for us to start weaning him off Stuart, but things have been up and down today. If you have an idea where he is… I'm sure Greg would sleep better tonight."

Cameron thought back to the last time she remembered Greg having Stuart. "He had him at breakfast on Sunday. I thought I packed him, but I was distracted, so he might still be in Greg's room at my place." She did a quick mental inventory of how she and House left the place and knew that there was too much chance they'd left evidence of their two-day sexcapades for her to suggest Ray go look for it there. He didn't have a key, but she could call the door man and have them let him in. However, the safer bet was to have her next door neighbor look. She fed the lady's cats now and again and she'd babysat for Cameron a few times when Cameron had been in a pinch. She knew what Stuart looked like.

"I'll call Jane as soon as I hang up with Greg. She can pop over and look. If she finds him, I'll have her leave him with the doorman and I'll let you know either way."

"Thanks. I hope you can help your friend's mother. Here's Little Greg." The phone went silent for a moment then her favorite little voice piped in.

"Hey Mommy! Have you seen Stuart? He's lost and I miss him."

"No honey. Mommy's not at home right now, but she's sending Miss Jane over to see if she can find him for you."

"Okay. I hope he's safe and not scared being all alone and lost."

"I'm sure he's fine and I know he misses you too. You know, that as we get older, we all have to learn to sleep on our own sometimes. It can be scary, but you're growing up and I know you'll be okay. Just remember that Daddy is in the next room and he's always kept you safe. And he can call Mommy if you want to talk to me."

"I know. I… I just don't want 'im to be scared is all. I have Daddy, but he's all alone."

"Stuart is a guard dog. He can take care of himself. I'm sure he'll have a great adventure to tell you once we find him."

"Tink so?"

"Yeah, baby. I think so. I love you. It's time for bed now, so be brave and sleep well."

"Okay, Mommy. Love you too. Bye bye."

"Bye sweety." She hung up before Ray has a chance to say anything more and dialed Jane. Five minutes later the search for Stuart was over and she could breathe easy. Or she hoped she could. No crisis was a small crisis for her these days. She never knows what might trigger another court date with Ray. House wandered into the bedroom as she hung up with Ray for the second time. She rummaged through her bag and pulled the flask of vodka she'd stowed there and took a big swig.

"Trouble in paradise?" He asks, as he looks on at her with concerned eyes, but says nothing about her drinking. Instead, he takes the flask and takes a drink to match as she explains the situation back home.

"Stuart, Greg's security teddy, which you met during breakfast, was left at my place. Apparently, he was okay for a while, but after two nights of not knowing where he was Greg freaked out a little. Ray decided to call me at work to see if he was at my place. Then work told him I had a family emergency so I had to weave an elaborate tale about your sick mother that no one can diagnose and how your lovely Aunt Margaret was putting us up."

"Your lying has improved. House would have been proud."

"And you?"

"I like to think I'm not quite the same level of asshole as my predecessor. I'm impressed with everything about you."

"I like you, Dr. Johnson."

"I like you, Dr. Cameron."