Disclaimer : I don't own these characters (not even House's cane)

It was a Saturday morning when Stacy told Greg about her one-day work related trip to Newark.

"Greg," she called out.

A familiar shuffle preceded Greg's entrance. He appeared in the doorway, his cane tapping rhythmically against the floor. "If you're about to ask me to babysit, the answer is no," he said before she could get a word in.

She turned to him, hands on her hips. "Billy's not a baby. He's three."

"Exactly," Greg said, leaning against the counter with a smirk. "Which means he's a full-fledged human capable of independence. Give him a banana and some crayons, and he's good for hours."

"Greg," she said, exasperated. "I have to go to Newark for a meeting, and you're not even working today. You can handle one day with your son."

Greg made a face. "First of all, I don't handle. Second, I might be busy."

"Doing what?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Important things. Like not going to Newark."

Stacy let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Greg, it's one day. One."

"And yet," he said with exaggerated seriousness, "it's one day too many."

"Jerk," she muttered, turning away as she saw the determined glint in his eye. Fighting with Greg was often a losing battle, and today was no exception.

"You'll be coming with me today sweetheart", Stacy tells Billy.

"Yay!", Billy exclaims, excited to go.

Stacy tied Billy's little shoelaces as he shook his legs playfully, she packed a small backpack, with a few snacks and an extra pair of clothes for billy.

Stacy said, scooping him up. "We're going. Say bye to Daddy."

"Bye, Daddy!" Billy called, waving enthusiastically.

"Have fun storming the castle," Greg replied, his smirk softening slightly as he waved back

Stacy gave Greg a small peck on the lips, and left for Newark with Billy.

The drive to Newark was filled with Billy's nonstop chatter. He pointed out every truck, bus, and airplane they passed, his excitement contagious.

"Mommy, look! Big truck!"

"I see it, sweetheart," Stacy said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror.

"Can we get one?"

Stacy laughed softly. "Maybe when you're older."

When they arrived, Billy sat quietly through her meeting, preoccupied with crayons and a juice box. Stacy kept glancing at him, marveling at how well he behaved despite the long day.

Afterward, she decided they both deserved a break.

"How about we get some lunch?" she asked, taking his hand as they left the office building.

Billy's face lit up. "Cheese!"

"Grilled cheese it is," Stacy said, smiling.

They found a small, cozy restaurant with checkered tablecloths and a case of baked goods near the counter. Billy pressed his face to the glass, staring at the cookies with wide eyes.

"Can I have one?" he asked, pointing.

"After lunch," Stacy promised, guiding him to a booth.

Over grilled cheese sandwiches and fries, Billy talked animatedly about the trucks he'd seen and how he wanted to be a truck driver when he grew up. Stacy listened, her heart swelling at the boundless enthusiasm in his little voice.

After lunch, they headed to a shoe store to pick out sneakers for Greg.

"Let's get Daddy a present," Stacy said as they walked in.

Billy nodded eagerly, his hand firmly in hers.

"What about these?" Stacy asked, holding up a pair of sneakers.

Billy wrinkled his nose. "No."

She laughed, setting them back. "Tough critic."

Billy picked up a bright yellow shoe, holding it up with pride. "This one!"

Stacy laughed, gently setting it back on the shelf. "Let's pick something Daddy will actually wear."

She was inspecting a pair of black sneakers when a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Stacy?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She turned, her breath catching when she saw him. Mark.

"Mark," she said, her voice measured.

He stood just a few feet away, his usual button down shirt with dockers and polished demeanor unchanged. His eyes, however, were tinged with surprise—and something else she couldn't quite place.

"It's been a long time," he said, his tone neutral but heavy with unspoken words.

"It has," Stacy replied, adjusting her hold on Billy's hand.

Mark's gaze shifted to the boy at her side. "And who's this?"

"This is my son," she said, brushing her fingers through Billy's hair.

Mark is surprised she actually had the child, he thought she would abort since she had no one, at the time.

Billy, noticing the attention, held his truck closer and gave Mark a wave.

"What's your name, buddy?" Mark asked, crouching slightly.

Billy hesitated, glancing up at Stacy before answering proudly. "William House!"

Mark flinched at the name, his jaw tightening.

"House," he said bitterly. "Of course."

"Yes," Stacy said firmly, her hand tightening around Billy's.

Mark let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "So, it's true. You went back to him."

"I didn't go back to him," Stacy said, her voice calm but firm. "I chose him."

Mark's expression darkened. "Chose him? The man who can't commit to anything? The man who—"

"Stop," Stacy interrupted, her voice cutting through his. "You made your choice, Mark. The moment you threw me out, you made it clear you did'nt care about how scared I was."

Mark opened his mouth to respond but seemed to think better of it. He exhaled sharply, glancing once more at Billy. "He looks like him," he said softly.

Stacy nodded. "He does."

Mark's lips pressed into a thin line. "You've moved on," he said quietly.

"Yes," Stacy said, her voice unwavering. "I have."

Mark nodded once, his expression unreadable. "Take care, Stacy."

"Mommy, who was that?" Billy asked, his blue eyes curious.

"Just someone Mommy used to know," she said softly.

Billy seemed satisfied with that answer and immediately returned his attention to the truck in his hands.

They left the store after purchasing a sleek, brown and beige coloured pair of sneakers.

The drive home was quiet, Billy falling asleep in the back seat, his toy truck still clutched in one hand. Stacy glanced at him in the rearview mirror, her chest tightening at the sight of his peaceful face.

When they got home, she carried him inside and tucked him into bed, smoothing the blanket over him as he stirred slightly but didn't wake.

In the living room, Greg was lounging on the couch, flipping through channels. He glanced up as she walked in, raising an eyebrow.

"You're late", He said, his voice teasing, "How was Newark?"

She dropped the shoebox on the coffee table, then walked over to him, climbing into his lap without a word.

"Uh, hello?" Greg said, startled as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I missed you," she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

Greg smirked, leaning back slightly. "You just saw me this morning."

"Still," she said softly, pulling back just enough to kiss him.

Greg responded without hesitation, his hand brushing against her back as he deepened the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, Stacy rested her forehead against his. "I got you new sneakers," she whispered.

Greg smirked, his smirk softening. "I noticed."

"They're not bad," Greg said, slipping them on with mock approval. "So how did it go?"

Stacy hesitated, then leaned against his shoulder. "Ran into Mark."

Greg raised an eyebrow. "That must've been awkward."

"It was," Stacy admitted. "But it reminded me why I'm here."

Greg smirked, brushing a strand of her hair back. "I knew you couldn't resist me."

She smiled, snuggling closer. "I can't." She muttered under breath.

END.