Day broke, and House was drafted into service by Colleen to drive Randy and Sarah Beth to summer school and to call the list of babysitters to find someone to mind the infant. The drive was successful, but the calling was not. Following Sarah Beth's written list (meant for the babysitter) to the letter, House had endured two feedings and three diaper changes before the Campbell's, minus Philip, arrived home.

"No luck finding a sitter, huh?" Kelly removed the sleeping infant from the chest of the dozing House who was propped up and stretched out on his bed.

"I'd share some choice words, but I don't want to corrupt the young crap factory. Does that thing have a name, by the way?"

"Eli."

"Whatever."

Colleen entered the room then and gushed all over the doctor who'd saved her husband and then dealt with diapers. He tried, "You're welcome", "It was nothing", "Anything to help", and several variations of a humble expression, but nothing placated her until he stood to accept a firm hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Well," she said finally, "I suppose you two will be leaving soon for the city. Be sure to come upstairs to say goodbye before you do."

House raised an eyebrow in Kelly's direction and when her mother was gone she explained. "Your flight leaves at 9:05 from Sacramento. It's a two hour drive to get there, plus security, so I had Eric book a suite at Le Rivage. It's about 15 miles from the airport. I could have got you in the Four Points, but I think you'll like Le Rivage - very ritzy."

He just shrugged. "Without you there I'll probably -"

"Why wouldn't I be there?"

House's eyes lit up. "I thought you'd want to stay here with your dad."

"My dad is going to be fine thanks to you. So you won't be rid of me until your plane leaves the gate."

They did stop at the hospital on their way out of town however, at Kelly's insistence. "My dad made me promise," she'd told him, "and trust me, he has ways of getting what he wants, so it's easiest just to do what he asks."

After a few minutes of pleasantries Kelly was expelled from the room by her father and Philip motioned for House to approach his bedside.

"I don't think I need to tell you how grateful I am for what you did for me."

"No, sir."

"And I get that you were just doing your job and all that. So let's not linger there."

"Yes, sir."

"But I would be remiss if I let you leave here without thanking you for what you did for my daughter."

"That was still just doing my job."

"No, I'm not referring to restoring her physical health, though I'm certainly grateful for that as well." Philip struggled to sit up, and House helped him manage the bed controls. "Dr. House, you saved her life in more ways than one. And my wife and I - " His voice caught in his throat, and it took him a moment to compose himself. House looked away, embarrassed and yet warmed by the sentiment. "My wife and I will never be able to thank you enough for bringing our little girl back to us, whole and happy." Philip offer his hand and when House grasped it he held on. "You are always welcome here, you understand? And anything you need, you just let us know."

House merely nodded, not trusting himself to respond. But Philip seemed to understand.

"God bless you, Greg. And safe travels."

House continued in silence as he left the hospital room and found Kelly waiting down the hall. He took her hand and she let him be.

He drove the first hour and she the second, both exhausted but determined. And when they arrived at the hotel it was like they had jumped back in time a week, travelers bent on enjoying every moment of their stay, making it part of the adventure.

Yet after the gourmet meal and the pampering in the spa, they found their way early to their room, and for all they had shared together in the past month it was only then that things became truly awkward between them.

Kelly's first clue that House shared her uncertainties was that he locked the bathroom door when he was in the shower.

House's first clue was when she told him straight out how she was feeling. "Greg, I'm kinda freaking out. Is that weird?"

"No."

She was sitting cross legged on the bed, the covers thrown back. She was fully clothed. He was bare chested and bare foot, a towel around his waist and his hair wet and spiky from the shower. And he was standing as far from her as he could get without leaving the room altogether. Neither moved, and neither could seem to find the right words to continue.

Finally: "I guess I'll take my shower now."

"Okay." But he didn't move until she was safely in the bathroom. And after a long pause he didn't miss the sound of her locking the door behind her.

"Dammit," he muttered. His mind continued to mull over earlier reasonings. Yes, it was too soon NOW, but time marched on. To push now when they were both vulnerable might mean an end. To show patience now might leave things open for later times... or it might seal the distance and merely usher in a long and permanent goodbye.

Kelly was dealing with the same internal struggles, weighing the same options. But she was sending him home to a woman he had obvious feelings for. A woman his own age and with similar life experience. A woman he had much in common with and would never have to ask him to change his whole value system to fit into her life.

Was it fair to ask him to wait? Wait for a time when she was able to remove her wedding rings without guilt and put Mark's memory to rest? Perhaps it would be fair if she could assure him the time would come. This year. This decade. Ever?

She turned off the water and left the shower stall. She brushed her teeth, she blow dried her hair, all with deliberate slowness. She might have stayed holed up in the bathroom forever if he hadn't pounded on the door. "What?"

"Gotta pee."

"No you don't."

"Yeah I do."

She fastened the terry cloth hotel robe at the waist and opened the door. "No, you don't."

"No, I don't." And with resolve he brought his lips to hers.

The next words to pass between them some time later were, "Do you have a condom?"

"No. I purposely..." It had seemed like such a valiant decision at the time. "No, I don't."

She sighed with as much frustration as relief. "Thank God."

So they sought release by other means. Finally sated, skin to skin and a tangle of limbs, House couldn't help but point out: "According to Wikipedia, that was only second base, which I earned fair and square. So I refuse to feel guilty. Just so you know."

And when she laughed and kissed him and settled down to sleep, any worry that might have resurfaced in House's mind was banished. He slept deep and well, waking only once to pull her closer.

They didn't talk about it until they were sitting in the terminal waiting for the flight to board. ("Wait; why are you allowed past security?" "My dad may have contributed some money to the airport's renovations a few years ago." "Really." "And he may also own some stock in the airline you're flying with today." "Remind me to send him a bill for my medical services...") A flight attendant had already informed House that he could pre-board whenever he wished --- this was even before the other first class passengers had been paged --- but he chose to wait until the last possible minute.

He told himself it was for her sake. And he'd been lying to himself long enough that it was easy to believe.

"So what now?" It was she who asked the question.

"I'd say that's up to you."

She was standing at the large windows overlooking the tarmac, watching planes take off and land. He remained seated, watching her.

"If things were different..."

House's memory harkened back to their first night together.

"Do you believe in fate?"

"You mean, do I believe that something conspired to take my husband's life through a series of unrelated events and made me the unwitting catalyst? Or are you asking me if I blame myself?"

"If things were different, we never would have met." He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm going to get on the plane. And tomorrow if you decide you want to bear my love child, you know where to find me."

"And if tomorrow you decide that this was just a fling and we should move on?"

"You're hot and you're loaded. Both factors make that scenario very unlikely."

She laughed in spite of herself. "And if tomorrow *I* decide that this was just a fling and we should move on?"

Several humorous and completely inappropriate remarks presented themselves for expression. But when he paused and she turned in his arms to face him, all he managed to say was, "I know you well enough to believe you've got more sense than that."

They didn't kiss, but held each other tightly until he had no choice but to let go. As though they'd both determined nothing else needed to be said, it wasn't until House was about to turn the corner and enter the plane that she called to him.

"Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"Goodbye."

"The answers are "no". And "sometimes", depending on the day. But not today. Usually I don't regret my request. But I always regret not having made the last moment count, to feel like there was closure. After that day, I promised myself that whenever I was with someone I cared about or was starting to care about, I would always be sure to say "goodbye", just in case."

She too must have been remembering their first night together. He could hear the meaning in her voice, and while he nodded to show that he understood, he didn't reply.

He didn't want closure. And they had already made the moment count.