Christmas Visitors

Cameron had no trouble sleeping that night, but the excitement had her up early, considering the time she fell asleep. By 1:00 in the afternoon, she had the place cleaned and the spare bedroom set up for an adult. Lucky for her she already had a case of Merlot. No place that sold alcohol was open on Christmas day, so the scotch was a challenge, but she asked a couple of neighbors and lucked out on the third try procuring a Dalwhinnie 15 Year Old, not top shelf but far from rotgut. It would have to do, because it was the only game in town.

She hoped that House's mom was as fond of Chinese for Christmas as her son, because she hadn't planned on more than that for herself. Before she could shoot off a text to ask, a knock came at her door.

Looking out the peephole she spied a tall man in a heavy blue hip-length coat with the hood pulled over his hair and the neck zipped up over most his face. Brown eyes looked into the opening and he waggled his eyebrows as the shadow come over the other side of the port. How the hell he kept making it past the doorman, she'd never know. But he was House and that was part of his charm.

Opening the door she greeted him "I think we need to fire our doorman."

She stood aside and he picked up his duffle bag and walked in past her. "Or fire the little old lady that couldn't figure out how to put in a code to the garage entrance." She rolled her eyes, knowing just the type, shut the door and locked it as House continued with a bit of a gay-man-swing to his vocal cadence. "Her grandson lives on three. It's his first time hosting Christmas. Big to do, she was late and I was a good samaritan who obviously must live here to know how to use the confusing computer door." He tossed his duffle bag on the floor, unzipped his coat next and she took it from him and hung it on the rack by the door.

When she turned back he was facing her and she got the first look at his ridiculous Christmas sweater, which looked like it escaped a bad crossover of the Cosby Show and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. "Oh. My. God. That sweater is hysterical. Is that Rudolph?"

"This," he pushed a finger into his chest and Rudolph's nose lit up red "is something that I inherited from Wilson," Cameron smirked at the trick. "That Jew had a thing for gaudy Christmas wear. I guess it keeps me from missing him too much when I continue to make fun of his bad Jew behavior."

She smiled at him softly and didn't press the matter, because she honestly didn't want to make him sad, and too much missing Wilson would do that. "I see you're working on the Jesus look again for the holiday." His beard was full again and his hair, while not long, hadn't been cut since last time she'd seen him almost four weeks before. Both had the gray dyed to a chestnut brown.

"I figured anyone who saw me before saw me like this. Best to be consistently not looking like me. Back home in Germany, Don is generally a clean-shaven, blue-eyed fellow with glasses and super sexy more-salt-than-pepper hair. But like I said before, I know too many people in Chicago to risk that. At least with it being cold as a witches tit in an iron bra out there, I can just zip up the coat over my face and not have to shoot for homeless."

"Oh, I'd like to see your hot professor look. I'm not sure I've ever seen you without at least a day's worth of scruff… Or with your hair combed," she teased. In some ways, she almost felt like him looking less scruffy would have been a better disguise but he also had to consider his current life as much as his former.

"Well, now you have something to look forward to."

She was afraid to ask if that was another invitation, so instead changed the subject. "So, Don, I hope you don't mind Chinese for dinner. That's about the only game in town on short notice."

"I'm practically Jewish when it comes to Christmas and food. And Mom was expecting Chinese in a motel, so having it here will be a big step up."

"Speaking of your mother… you said she'd be here around five?"

"Yeah, she has an old friend she's visiting early this morning. Old military-wife friend. I gave her the address and your name and told her to have the doorman call up to buzz her in."

"Great. So in the meantime, wanna unwrap your first gift?" She asked as she ran her hands up his chest and around his neck, the whole time struggling to keep a straight face while more or less feeling-up Santa's favorite reindeer.

"Ummm hmm." House agreed with an exaggerated nod. His left arm wrapped around her and slipped down to grab her ass.

"Get rid of those brown eyes, and meet me in my bed."

"Yes ma'am."

As soon as she entered her bedroom, she tossed off her shirt and jeans leaving on only the red teddy she'd put on just for him and jumped on the bed with a smile. He took his time and she thought about everything. She wanted to leave with him and never come back. As soon as he had told her he was coming to see her, she'd been happy again.

She'd thought a lot about her conversation with Cuddy. Maybe it should have scared her off, but all it did was make her more curious to see House with her son. She'd spent most her life trying to be there for everyone. Be the person people could count on. She'd run away once, and it backfired. More and more she was realizing it was all the wrong things she had run away from.

She loved her parents but she didn't have a real relationship with them. Hadn't since she married a dying man. They'd be hurt when she went missing, but they'd go on. Her brother would see to it. Her brother — now there was another story. They hadn't been on regular speaking terms in years either, so whatever he felt would be more guilt than grief. Ray. Well, fuck Ray. If he had his way, she'd be the one left with no son. Let him make another with a good little church wife who knows her place.

Her mind came to a stop as House walked into the room. He hung his cane on her door frame and limped forward undressing as he went. He tossed the awful sweater to the side and limped forward again as he untucked his Van Halen tee and sent it flying to join the sweater. God, how she loved his chest! She opened her legs wide to him, getting a smirk in return as he reached the edge of the foot of the bed and started to crawl up to meet her.

He grabbed an ankle as he went and nibbled his way up the long lean appendage, slowly working his way up to his present wrapped in red lace, complete with a little bow just between her breasts. She knew how much he loved her in red and he was very clearly showing her his appreciation with every gentle nip at her thighs.

He paused for a moment at the apex. His mouth hovering over her as he inhaled her scent. His hot breath on her was almost more than she could take. "Damn, you're so wet already." He remarked as he gently bit her mound through the lacy garment. She moaned lowly, dripping even more with the heat of his mouth on her, the pressure of his teeth sending waves of pleasure out from her clit.

His hands found the latches and he unfastened them with well-practiced hands, pushing the now open teddy, up her body, so he had nothing in the way of his Christmas feast. She'd often cursed his wicked tongue, when she'd been the subject of its harsh lashings as his fellow. Now she cursed, begging for more of his wicked tongue. Begged for it to lash her again and again. It was a double-edged sword that she endured gladly, both edges making her more than she was without him. She needed him like she needed air to breath. It was all so perfectly clear with his mouth sucking her, adoring her, making her come for him.

She came twice before he'd had his fill and began working his way further up her still twitching body. He tugged at the top of the garment, pulling the cups below her breast, which pushed them up for him to devour. As he sucked, she began to tug at his belt, unlatching it, opened his jeans and pushed them down just far enough to claim his hard cock with her hand.

He groaned into her breasts and moved up to latch onto her neck, it would leave a mark, she was sure, but she didn't care. She wanted him to mark her — to claim her as his while she stroked him. "Left front pocket. Condom. God, damn woman, that's fucking… yeah…"

She released him long enough to fish out the condom, and he ran the tip of his cock over her clit a few times to spur her on and began kissing her, his mouth and beard still wet with her come. She had him covered a moment later and he was inside her. Both let a moan out into the others mouth and he started moving, slow and deep.

Her hips met his pace and they were one again. He kissed her like she'd never been kissed. Every pass of his tongue a promise of love. She answered back with hers, tasting herself on him, exploring his warm mouth and drinking in all the pleasure it offered her.

She put her hand between them as she felt him get close. He smiled at her wickedly and encouraged "Yeah, babe, touch yourself. Come with me." He pushed up off of her as his thrusts became faster and more erratic, his head tossed back as he came and she followed just as he began to collapse his weight fully onto her.

Cameron pulled her hand from between them and wrapped every limb around his limp body, willing him to never leave. She could barely breathe under his weight, his belt buckle dug into her hip, but she didn't care. She could die here and be happy.

After a shower, they laid on the couch together, fighting over the television remote and necking like lovesick teenagers. She wanted to tell him she'd run away with him. But she knew once she committed there could be no going back. House wouldn't forgive it. His other relationships lay as testament that House was an all or nothing at all commitment. This thing they had now, if she didn't make up her mind soon, wouldn't last. Neither of them could do halfway for very long. Just getting to halfway was such a big step, that he'd learned to avoid it all together. Settling instead for the company of women he paid, because at least then he knew exactly where he stood.

She'd decided that she'd give it the night. Meet his mother. Maybe talk to her, if she could find a way to somehow skirt around the topic with him in earshot. For now, she'd enjoy pretending a little while longer.

Halfway through South Park Christmas (House obviously dominated the remote and picked his favorite and really, in his mind, only tolerable Christmas movie), they fell asleep on the couch, Cameron on top of his long body. They were awakened by a call. Cameron grabbed her phone from the end table and muttered a "Thank you," before hanging up and placing it back.

"Your mom's on her way up." She told House as she tried to sit up, but he pulled her back to his chest and kissed her head. "You can't leave now. I have a boner." He rubbed against her playfully.

"Um, you must really have a different relationship with your mom if you are good with my inviting her in mid-sex." She teased, and he let her loose then got up himself and headed to the bathroom, showing his true lack of desire to show off his boner to his mom.

The doorbell rang before he was back and on the other side she could see Blythe Bell and the doorman who'd taken the time to show her the way and carry her overnight bag. Cameron opened the door and welcomed the women she'd met twice before, calling her by Mrs. Johnson, which was the name the doorman had used when calling to confirm her as a guest.

She thanked the doorman, and he wished them both a Merry Christmas, before heading back to his post. The elder woman, smiled at Cameron as she turned from closing the door. "Allison Cameron. I never thought I'd meet you again after the funeral." She embraced Allison lightly, Allison returned it with one arm, having picked up the bag to bring it in, and wondered just what House had told his mother about her over the years, and especially over the last few weeks.

"Mrs. Bell, it's so good to see you. You're right. I didn't expect any of this either, but I'm happy it's happened."

"Yes and it's Blythe. Don has a flair for the dramatic. I suppose nothing he's done has surprised me for at least 35 years." She wielded his new name with practiced ease. Cameron had little doubt House's skill for delivery had been inherited honestly from her. "Oh and there he is! Oh my," she shook her head in amused disbelief, "Don, that sweater is even more hideous than last year's. James certainly had a weakness for the outrageous."

"At least with best friends and Christmas wear." Allison jabbed in, inciting a cheap laugh from Blythe.

"Hey Mom." House greeted his mother, somewhat awkwardly, giving her a hug. It was just as Cameron had remembered him acting all those years ago. His mother seemed to turn him into the likeness of a boy who was hoping to avoid getting in trouble for something he'd already done. "So, I kind of popped this all on Allison last minute, so looks like our tradition of Chinese stands."

"No worries. That's fine. I'm honestly over the traditional dinner. I've had it twice this week already, what with your Aunt moving things up for her children now that they are all becoming grandparents. Then our neighbors popped by with leftovers two days ago after they hosted a Christmas party. Since Greg died, they all cater to us at the holidays. If I'd known just how much free food was going to be involved, I might have had him fake his death years ago."

Blythe winked and he smiled and started to unclench. Obviously, this was some sort of running joke between them. Say what you want about House, at least he told his mother he wasn't dead. The thought of that put knots in her stomach. Cameron wondered if she could let her own mother believe she was dead or worse. She knew for sure, she couldn't tell her. It seemed if she decided to leave, she would have a heavier cross to bare.

Cameron gave Blythe the short tour of the apartment and let Blythe get settled as she dug around the coffee table drawer for takeout menus. There were two choices in walking distance. She handed the menus to House and let him pick.

Allison had never known House to be a Christmas person. At best, she knew that he and Wilson used to have take-out on the holiday. At worst, she'd seen him spend it alone at the bottom of a Vicodin laced bottle of whiskey.

Yet, here he was, slow dancing with her to Ella Fitzgerald's rendition of What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? in his lopsided gate, as his mother finished her dinner and looked on. They were all a little buzzed and he was singing along in her ear, as if he himself were asking the question of her.

What had the death of Wilson, and his own death for that matter, done to him? she wondered. He seemed so very different with her now. His wit was still full of sarcasm. His jokes were all still dirty. But he seemed to be okay with allowing himself a moment of happiness. He was always the person to preach that people don't change. But here he was before her, the same, yet so very different in the one way that mattered.

Perhaps he was somewhat like the Phoenix.

Perhaps she'd had too much to drink again.

After dinner and the dance, they played Cards Against Humanity late into the evening. She'd gotten the game at a work Christmas gift exchange earlier that week. She didn't have any idea what she'd gotten herself into, only having a vague idea that the game was like dirty Apples to Apples. That was the understatement of the year.

Turns out, much to Cameron's surprise, House's mother could be a rather naughty lady. This was not the mother House had described to Cameron years ago. He seemed to feign shock for the most part, but Cameron had the distinct feeling that their relationship had evolved in the past few years. She'd have to ask him about it later. For now, she simply enjoyed the somewhat-drunk-Betty-White version of Blythe Bell.

House snorted as he silently read their cards along with his. He quickly donned a straight face and said seriously, "While I do appreciate, 'Masturbation, kid tested, mother approved,' I feel it is just a cheap attempt at humoring the judge, whereas, 'An Oedipus complex, kid tested, mother approved,' is a far more contextually appropriate. Now, don't tell me which of you…" He points a finger back a forth at each of them as if he was playing a game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe "because I'm pretty sure I know the answer." His final point lands on his mom and he winks and waggles his eyebrows at her. She acted completely innocent. Of course, with only three players, Cameron knew the older woman had given that card and she snickered at the implication.

"That must be why you never were a fan of my taking matters into my own hand. I guess Allison is the kind of mom who'd rather have the dirty laundry than the dirty secrets."

"God, this game is so wrong." Cameron laughed. "Good thing we're all just drunk enough to blame the alcohol tomorrow."

"That's totally what Mom always says."

"Okay, then…" Allison said deadpan, changing the rather inappropriate subject back to the deck of other inappropriate topics. "My turn next." She drew a replacement answer card, as did Blythe and Blythe placed another winning card in her pile. She was certainly racking them up at a record pace, Cameron thought. Grabbing the next card in the black deck, she turned it over and read aloud. "'I learned the hard way that you can't cheer up a grieving friend with' blank."

House smirked and put his card on the table immediately. Blythe took her time and placed hers with a poker face. Cameron reached down, picked up their answer cards and shuffled them a few times then asked Blythe to do the same. After they were mixed she picked them up and groaned as she read the first "'I learned the hard way that you can't cheer up a grieving friend with giving the tumor a cutesy name.' That's just horrible… "

"True, and funny. I've tried." House quipped.

"And I think the winner. Although, 'swiftly achieving an orgasm' was pretty good, but certainly works to cheer up far more friends."

"Sorry Mom." he winked at her again "but maybe I can see if that works to cheer you up later."

"Jesus, Don." Allison groaned.

"Hey, she started it," House whined and stuck his tongue out at his mom, who looked unphased at him over the reading glasses perched on her nose.

"I was just playing the cards I was dealt," Blythe answers innocently and Cameron thinks she might just love her.

By midnight Blythe had retired to the guest room and left Cameron and House snuggling on the couch.

"Your mother is a hoot."

"Yeah, I had no idea how much until I died. Well, I guess, that's not entirely when it started. Did you know my father wasn't my father?" He stroked her long hair as she snuggled against his side, her head on his shoulder, on arm and one leg draped over his chest and legs respectively.

"No. I didn't know," she answered.

"Yeah. I guess most of that went down after you were gone. I'd suspected for years. I confirmed it by taking a tissue sample from his body at his funeral."

"Why did you wait so long? You could have found out years before?"

"I guess I wanted an excuse for not caring he died."

"Oh, come on. I know you didn't like him, but he was still your Dad in all the ways that matter."

"Yeah, it was a delayed reaction. Anyway, the guy I really always thought must be my bio dad, Mom ended up marrying. That pissed me off, and I made a big show of telling him and outing her together. He was pissed and none too happy, but his reaction confirmed they did have an affair around the time I would have been conceived. She continued to pretend she'd always thought I was John's."

"So, I'm guessing that since he's not a part of this life-after-death thing, and since he wasn't at your funeral, you and he did not have a 'Lifetime Movie of the Week' reunion?"

"No. If anything, I realized that John may have been an asshole, but he was a better sort of asshole than Thomas Bell. And then it didn't matter at all again, because Wilson DNA tested him and turns out he isn't my bio dad either. I guess Mom was a bit of a slut."

Cameron smiled at this. Know that House meant the statement as a compliment. And unlike most sons, he respected her more for it. "So that's where you get it from."

"Totally." He snickered and traced a finger over her arm gently. "Yeah, so anyway, I guess that made me start to see my mother in a different light. I called her a little more, started teasing her more and feeling less like I had to pretend to be something I'm not to spare her from my true nature. After Wilson got sick, she started calling me more. I think, she thinks, that he and I were closeted bisexuals and were lovers on the side. Which explains, in her mind, why we both couldn't keep a woman."

Cameron raised her head and turned to look him in the eye with an eyebrow raised. "Were you?"

"Oh, wouldn't everyone like to know," he teased back with a smirk playing on his lips.

"It's not like it'd be a stretch if you were," she stated plainly as she laid her head back in the crook of his shoulder.

"No. Actually, it might have saved us both a lot of trouble if we could have just been as gay on each other as everyone thinks we were."

She couldn't disagree with that. Hell, there were many times she'd hoped to find out they were gay just so she could feel less rejected. She also knew that they love one another more than most couples. To Cameron, Wilson was always the evidence that House had the ability to love and last in a long-term relationship.

"Anyway, after my death," House continued, "Wilson and I needed help, like I told you before. Mom took care of most of that because she was the executor of my will and was able to work with Stacy and handle things while I made sure Wilson got to do all the shit he wanted to do with his last six months. She and I talked more in that six months than we had since I went to college. Turns out, when we both decided to stop with our son/mother act and be our real selves, we really get along well."

"Did she ever tell you who your biological father was?"

"Well, she isn't sure, but there were a couple of guys in this band that rolled through town on a one night stand. Keyboardist and drummer. She thinks they might have been brothers, or cousins maybe, because they both looked alike and she thinks had the same last name and she thinks it was Gregory. I look sort of like how she remembers them. Apparently, she knows she slept with one of them but isn't sure which because she may or may not have slept with both of them. Maybe as a threesome. She doesn't remember their first names and has no idea which might have had the winning shot, but my money's on the keyboard player. She says it's all kind of fuzzy between the weed, the LSD and the number years since she'd really thought about it."

Cameron laughed. She couldn't help it, because it was so very perfectly him. "God, that explains so much."

"I know, right? I'm the result of hot, sloppy, hardcore, band-groupie-sex. It makes the pieces of my life all just fall right into place."