House paced the floor like a caged animal. He walked a circuit from his living room, in and out of the kitchen, down the hall and back around the couch then, began again. He had made three laps before the boy spoke again.

"Um, can I watch the TV or something while you're digging trenches? It's interesting work, maybe, but really dull to watch."

House stopped and huffed, but began again without answering. Minutes before, House had let the boy in and allow the kid to deposit himself on the couch. House had sort of figured that in this world he had offspring. He hadn't always been careful. So even though this was a shock it wasn't too much of a surprise. He chuckled to himself that at a time like this he could split hairs regarding terminology. In the background he heard his son sigh loudly. The shock was that he had been looking at her picture just minutes before her son had arrived. Was the god that he didn't believe in chuckling at the irony of it all at this very moment? He would be, if he wasn't too stunned to do anything right now but pace.

House forced himself to stop again; then again, he paced another circuit. This time when he arrived at the couch, he shoved the boy, his boy, over and sat down.

"I suppose you have a name?"

"Yes" the boy sounded vaguely annoyed.

"Spill"

"Gregory Alan House-Dubois"

"This is a joke right? She knew the Gregory and the House, never the Alan."

"My grandpa's name," he responded. "It isn't all about you, you know."

"You're right, it isn't. So, how is Renee?"

"Dead."

House's head took a spin. "How long ago?"

"Five years. She was helping other hurricane victims and caught some sort of illness. It wasn't the illness that killed her. It was the allergic reaction to the antibiotics."

"She should have called. I would have cured her."

"I'll pass that along."

House's mouth quirked into a slight smile; he was going to like this kid!

"So, why did it take you so long to look me up?"

"I had what I needed. My grandparents continued to raise me. My mom and I always lived with them. My grandpa died two years ago and my grandma died a month ago. I found your picture cleaning out the house and I figured that it was time for a change. Mom always said that adventures were for the taking. Once the house sold, I left. This can be just a visit. I have enough money to support myself and …."

"No need. You can stay. I'm interested in you. You seem…entertaining. I need to get home, though. Wilson is waiting."

"You're gay?"

"No, idiot, I had a psychotic break brought on by my Vicodin usage and it was recommended that I live with someone for awhile. Wilson took me in."

"Should I worry about you going 'psycho' on me and murdering me in my sleep?"

"Not until I start sharpening the steak knives."

"Good to know."

House turned at looked at his son in surprise. They even sounded alike. At least he wasn't going to need to spend money on a DNA test.

"Like I said, I need to go. Order a pizza or Chinese, or whatever. I keep the menus in the kitchen on the counter. There's be- Coke in the fridge. Clean bedding is in the closet. I haven't slept here since my break, so the bed is clean, really. It's just dusty. See you tomorrow…probably. I might get a case and then it could be awhile."

House left and, out of habit, locked the door behind him.

Fourteen year old Greg House-Dubois shook his head and smiled after his dad left the apartment. In all of his imagining, he had never considered a reaction like that! Crying and a few "Oh my son!" scenarios had past through his mind. Flat out denial was what he had expected. Instead, his dad had freaked and resigned himself in a matter of about twenty minutes. Cool.

After considering his options for a bit, Greg grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the top. He took a big gulp then proceeded to spew it back into the sink!

"This tastes like weasel piss! My old man won't need to worry about his son becoming an alcoholic if it all tastes that bad!"

"Good to know. I forgot my helmet and had to come back." House held up the helmet to show Greg. "I keep the rest of the liquor in the kitchen cabinets, if you care to make any decisions regarding your alcoholism tonight. Oh, and if you find any pills, flush them. I won't be needing them any more." House nodded to the boy and left again.