AN: Something scary happened this week and without going into details I would like to say that I am so very blessed to still have my friend and beta atavares with me. I know we are thousands of miles apart in distance, but you are always close to my heart. And, though you have a long journey ahead of you, I am glad I can still be a part of that journey.

She a big reason I write on a regular basis now so all of my readers should give a shout of thanks out to her as well. For my part, I want to thank her for just being her as much as I thank her for keeping me on the path with my writing. The stories are just the vehicle. Our friendship is dear to me.

And to my reviewers, I don't even remember if I was able to write anyone back since the last update. It's not from a lack of appreciation. Real life is more important sometimes and I had one of those weeks. Thanks to all of you for your words of encouragement. They are appreciated!

Greg House

The drive back on Friday morning was quiet. Between the snow muting the sound of everything and their lack of conversation, it seemed like the only sound in the world might be that of the car's heater.

They'd had their fun. Even spent most of the day Thursday dreaming up a lovely little scenario in which she would steal away Little Greg, run off into the sunset with House and they'd live happily ever after. The End.

He'd shown her his real self. The part he saved for Wilson. The part he had once shared with Stacy and, for a short time, Cuddy. Now that she'd tasted it, she was even more sure she would never be happy without him. She'd been completely happy for the first time since she could remember, but that happiness was fading away more every mile closer they came to Chicago.

An hour into the journey, he was the first to break the silence. "I meant it, you know. All the joking aside. If you wanted to run away with me, I could make it work, get you both a new identity and passport. I think it could work. We could work."

She stared out the window and sighed. He sounded hopeful. The House she'd known from before never sounded hopeful. It broke her heart to have to have the roles reversed and be the one who had to crush the hope for once in their relationship.

"I do love you; you know that. But you know it could never really work. I can't just leave without a trace — steal my son from his own father. And even if I had the… I dunno… guts? Or screws loose to really consider it, Greg is a smart kid and he's just old enough to ask all the questions we'd rather he didn't. And, he loves Ray." She pauses for a moment to consider their relationship, before conceding that "Ray, despite being completely wrong for me, is a good father to Greg. And what about my parents? We're not super close, but it would kill my mother if I disappeared."

House huffed, "Greg is also young enough to believe a well-crafted lie and young enough he'll forget most of everything that's happened to him thus far. As far as parents go, I told my mother. Can't you trust your mom and dad?"

"Mom!?" She let out a cross between a sigh and a ha. "Not with this. She could never condone my taking Greg from his family."

Cameron paused for a moment and thought about her father. He wasn't exactly the kind of Dad that little girls grow up and write love songs about. Not that he was a bad person. He was a depressed person. An 'if only this had happened, then I would have been' person. The guy that sits at the local bar with his high school letterman jacket on every Friday to watch the local sports recap and talk about how when he was quarterback they were primed for the state championships, if only he hadn't dislocated his shoulder things could have been blah blah…

He did, however, hate the earth that Ray walked on. He also was the one person who, for better or for worse, told her it was obvious she wanted her boss. And that she should stop being a 'pussy' and just ask him out already. Given the aftermath of their date, he also had a love-hate opinion of the man he knew held the keys to his little girl's heart. On the one hand "the dirty old gimp" was a good guy for not wanting to drag Cameron down with him. On the other, he was "an idiot" for not letting Cameron love him.

"My father is an ass, but strangely, I think he'd be the one person who'd be okay with it. He hated Ray from the start. Then again, my father has hated all my husbands."

"Even more reason for me to steal away with you under cover of night. I've never been the kind of man other men dream of for their little girls."

"Oh, he'd like you," Allison assures House, who glances at her with a little frown. "He's that fucked up." She winks back. "Mom would probably want me to have an intervention. If you think I'm too nice, you'd have a field day with her."

His eyes stayed glued to the road and she could tell he was about to lose his mask. His voice was quiet as he finally spoke. "I'm sorry I'll never get to meet them. I'm sorry about a lot of things."

She dropped her bags at the front door with a sigh. He closed the door and pulled her around into his chest, facing him. She buried her head in his shoulder and cried. "Hey, now." He cooed and placed a kiss on her head. "We have one more night before I have to go. You can still call me on the burner phone. I can't stay, but we could do this again in a few months if you wanted to."

She sobbed harder. He sighed, "Or I can leave now. Maybe this was a stupid idea. I… I don't know what I was thinking. I never wanted to hurt you. I just wish you could be happy without me, but for whatever reason, you're just as fucked up as I am. I feel like it's my fault."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but you don't get to claim the glory for it. You were right. I'm damaged. I'm drawn to other damaged people. You are the only one who understands that. I didn't even really believe it until recently."

He lifted her chin and kissed her tear stained cheeks. "Even covered in snot, you are still the prettiest piece of lobby art I've ever laid eyes on."

She laughed and looked around for the box of tissues she kept on the coffee table. He let her go, so she could compose herself. A few moments later she was leading him by the hand to her bedroom. She only had a few more hours and she planned on spending them loving him.

"Be Greg House with me, just for tonight. Whatever happens tomorrow with Don, give me one night to love you like I've always wanted to before I have to let you go again."

"So, call you an idiot, order you to make my coffee and to do my charting."

"Mmmm, now I'm getting all tingly," she teased and put her arms around his neck. He peppered kisses from her lips to her jaw and down her neck as she bit his earlobe.

"House?" she whispered breathlessly into his ear.

"Yeah, Cameron?"

"I love you."

He nipped at her ear in return and whisper back "I know."

"Ass."

He took that as a cue to grab hers. "You asked me to be Greg House."

"Touché."

"Shower, then sex?" He asks hopefully.

"Okay." She agrees, smiling up into the brown eyes she'd become accustomed to the last week.

"Give me a head start. I need to cut my hair, trim the beard and take out these contacts. Greg House doesn't like the Jesus look."

"But, aren't you worried someone we know might…"

"See a guy with a limp that looks like me waltzing out of your building in the morning? I parked in the garage, remember? And I can toss on a hoodie. I always keep one for getting by cameras. I can walk against the wall like I'm drunk and avoid the cane. I had to do stuff like that for six months with Wilson. I'll be fine. I want this too. You're right. It might be the only time we ever have to do it."

"I'll wait here then. Just yell when you're done preening."

"Beauty like mine doesn't come easy. It takes work to be this sexy," he said as he flipped his hair and shook his head like a supermodel.

With a laugh, she told him, "Just don't clog my sink with your feathers."

"Believe me. I've learned my lesson with plumbing," he winks and limps away, leaving her to sit on her bed anticipating seeing him as House again. She was wet from the idea of it.

After he called her in, she took her time looking him over. He was still in his jeans, t-shirt and a baby-blue button down. She could better see how his face had aged, she tried to memorize each new wrinkle. Then she dared to look at his eyes. The lack of drug use made the skin around them appear less puffy and somehow also younger. This was the man she'd wanted for the last 11 years.

His beard was trimmed to a couple of days worth of scruff and, being mostly new growth appeared mostly gray with the colored haircut away. His hair was clipper cut short and like with his beard, but not to the same degree, she could see more gray with the darker long hair removed. It suited him more with his thinning hair, she thought. Although she had to admit, she did like grabbing his long hair when he'd gone down on her. However, the man standing before her was the man she fell in love with.

"I miss you House — Greg," she tried the name out for the first time outside the throws of passion. It felt oddly right that he should share the same name as her son. She wished again House was his father, then maybe…

"I'm here now," his words pulled her from her reverie.

She began undressing him slowly. He let her. They were in no hurry now. The frantic mating from earlier in the week was past them. Tonight was about making a memory to sustain them; maybe forever.

She took his blue buttoned shirt off first. Taking each of his hands, in turn, she ran her fingers over them, up the inside of his forearm and back again. She explored the calluses on his right hand. She recalled all the times she's tried to leave him with a handshake and he wouldn't acknowledge the gesture. She kissed the rough skin and sucked a finger into her mouth, before giving a similar inspection to his left hand.

Satisfied she'd seen ever line and callus, she pulled his t-shirt from his jeans. He lifted his arms over his head, to aid her removal of it and she set out on a slow exploration of his chest. She loved his chest, with the small patch of hair. The perfect amount, she thinks as she licks each of her thumbs and puts them to work on his nipples. He'd been so quiet up to that point, but this caused him to break the silence with a sharp intake of air. His small tits harden under her thumbs and she set to sucking each in turn, then blew on each of the small, ultra-sensitive peeks.

He was in great shape. Not cut from hours at the gym, but obviously took care with his figure. His pecs were well outlined under a thin layer of soft tissue. His stomach was long and flat and his belly button turned inward a few inches above his belt. She longed to circle it with her tongue. She preferred men this way. Naturally strong, without looking like a meat-head. His upper arms wrapped around her. His strong, beautiful biceps pulling her into his embrace as he kissed her on the head. God, how she loved his arms.

It was his turn to even the score. He pushed her away, then backed up toward the toilet. He dropped the lid and sat, looking up at her heavy-lidded. "Strip for me. Slowly. Top first."

She pulled the v-neck sweater off first, then slowly unbuttoned her white top, revealing her milky flesh to him one inch at a time. Once fully open she let it slide from her shoulders, and reached between her breasts to unfasten her light purple bra. He was right about her breasts, she thought. She had gained more than a cup size when breastfeeding and only lost about half of it back after weaning her son. She felt like they finally fit the rest of her body. His eyes showed their approval.

"Come here. I'm hungry," he called to her and she stepped forward to stand between his legs. His face was at the perfect height to suckle her exposed breasts. His mouth latched onto her left as his arms wrapped around her exploring every inch of her back with feather light touches. He sucked them into long hard peaks and admired his work before sucking again. She was beginning to think he wasn't joking about having a bit of a nursing fetish. She wishes she could fulfill his fantasy. All his fantasies. She would be at his mercy sexually, 'if only…'

She pulled her mind away from depressing thoughts and focused again on simply enjoying his talented mouth on her. Loving her. Thirsting for her like a dehydrated man lost in the desert thirsts for water. His mouth and face felt so different now, with the shorter beard. Her hands stroked his hair; she loved the feel of it short. This is how it was in her dreams of him.

His hands circled around and met just below her navel. He pushed her back gently and began unbuttoning her jeans. He took forever with the zipper, a shit-eating grin on his face the whole way down, then he looked up at her and said "Off."

She stepped forward and turned around, peeking back at him seductively over her shoulder. He gave her a wink and she pulled down her pants and panties together, bending over to give him the full view of her ass and her labia. He grunted approval and she saw from the corner of her eye rub himself through his jeans.

She finished kicking off her pants, and then pulled off her socks, finally standing naked before him. Turning, she told him, "You're wearing far too many clothes, Dr. House. I need you naked to fully examine you."

"Okay, Dr. Cameron. I've been having this funny feeling, right here." He rubbed himself again through his jeans.

"Oh, well, that's troubling. I'll definitely need to have a look."

She extended a hand and helped him stand, and then unfastened his belt and jeans. Pushing them to the floor with his underwear she positioned herself on her knees before him. His massive prick weeping right in front of her face. "Oh, this is a problem. But lucky you, there's a cure."

She swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock, and he hissed. "Fuck, Dr. Cameron."

"I concur, one hundred percent Dr. House," teased and took him fully into her mouth, sucking and bobbing, sliding her lips over his length, rubbing the tip of his prick against the ridges on the roof of her mouth.

"I'm not going to last if you keep that up." He confessed. She was enjoying his taste too much to listen. He tugged her hair gently, "Allison, baby, I want this to last." With a small, moan of disapproval, she pulled away. "Believe me, I love it. But I don't want to come yet. Let's shower, okay?"

She nodded, took his hand and stood. He pulled her into another embrace and she reveled in the feel of his wet, hard dick pressed against her stomach. 'Cuddy was stupid.' She thought, and then immediately felt bad both for the sentiment and for thinking of the other woman in the first place. But she would never understand how her friend could have given up on this man.

Her thoughts continued to drift as they started the water and stepped into the spray. Yes, he was far from perfect, perhaps even certifiable, but no one had ever made Cameron feel so important before. He made love to her as if she were the center of the universe. She imagined he loved Cuddy this fiercely as well. Otherwise, why would he have gone off the deep end when she dumped him?

Maybe he wouldn't be so damned lost now. Alison couldn't have him either way, at least if Cuddy had not fucked him up he would have never had to die.

"Hey. Where are you right now?" House asked her as he gently washed her hair.

"Sorry. I was just thinking about things I shouldn't."

"No more of that. Let's not waste the last of our time together."

"Sorry. You're right," she agreed and focused her mind on enjoying the feel of his strong fingers massaging her scalp.

After showering until the water ran cold, they dried and headed for bed. He'd become playful, snapping his towel at her and causing her to run from the room giggling, him limp-sauntering behind, smiling at her girlish behavior and the lovely way her feminine flesh bounced as she ran. She loved how he looked at her like a cross between a hungry wolf and a lost soul in need of a savior. She was sure she looked at him in the same way.

She pounced on the bed before him, rolled over and pushed back to the middle of the bed. He crawled in after her and on top of her, pulling her hips to meet his, sinking himself first try. 'God, he fills me perfectly.'

His rhythm was slow, excruciating and exquisite. His eyes held hers as he made love to her. She clung to him like a vine to a brick wall, wrapping her legs around his ass, pushing him deeper with her heels, she felt like he couldn't be deep enough. She needed all of him.

"Fuck." He broke the moment. "Condom."

"Don't."

"You know we can't do that. The timing is too close now. If this wasn't so fucked up, I'd fucking love to come inside of you. I've always wanted to 'go all the way', all the way, actually. I was just too scared for most of my life that I'd turn into my Dad. Come on" he pulled out "I can't do this to you or me or a kid we might make. It's not fair, but that's life."

"You're right, I just… I just wasn't thinking clearly."

"I'm sorry this is all fucked up."

"Me too."

He slipped on the condom and she pushed him on his back and took position atop him. He held himself in alignment and she sank on him and missed the skin on skin contact. He sensed it and sat up to hold her as she rode him. They couldn't get close enough to one another, neither wanted it to end, both shed tears before their final release.

Long into the night, he held her. He whispered he loved her after he thought she was asleep. She didn't break the spell and remained silent, holding his words close to her heart. When she woke up the next morning, he was gone.