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  Reaganomics cptr 15 -end 
 by gorblimey2	

 Chapter 15

Where There's a Will There's a Way

I was to start work on Monday, September 1st and so Greg took me shopping.
He insisted that if I was going to write Grants and hit people up for
grant money, I had to look expensive, beautiful and hot. We went to Neiman
Marcus in the city. I think I tried on thirty outfits that he, yes he,
picked out. Who would know looking at the way he dressed that he had such
good taste? He bought me an Ellen Tracey Poplin Shirtdress in black, a
Tory Burch knit shift dress in deep blue and white stripe and a Diane Von
Furstenburg Darcy crossover dress in tan with white edging. They were
gorgeous and if you added the shoes that he bought me to match them, it
came to way more than my monthly income. I resisted but he said that it
was my birthday present. 

On September 1st , we drove in together and walked through the clinic hand
in hand to the clucking of a lot of people. I had chosen the shirt dress
for my first day and was suppose to check in with Human Resources. I
wanted to go see Chase and Foreman first. I got onto the elevator with a
very chipper Gregory House. We walked into the office and Chase jumped up.

Chase put his wrists together in front of him as if he was going to be
cuffed, "Whew! Officer Grogan!" He started laughing. 

"Was it Cameron or House who told you about that?" I asked with a smile.

"Cuddy! She came in and said that House has finally found a cop that liked
him. Hey, bad cop is one of my favorite fantasies. If House gets paroled,
you can arrest and frisk me."

House looked at him, "Dream on. I've been committing a string of felonies
for the last week. I have a rap sheet at home as long as my arm."

I looked at House and smiled slyly, "He's been a very bad boy."

Foreman shook his head, "Well it's great to have you back."

I went over and hugged both of them. Cameron had been quiet. I turned to
Cameron and smiled, went over and gave her a quick hug. Cameron gave me a
quick hug back. 

I walked over and gave House a hug and a kiss on the lips. I turned to
Cameron, "Cameron, today you and I start fresh. But there is one thing,
you French kiss House again and you won't have a tongue for the next one."

I left, went down to human resources, filled out the paperwork and went to
my new office. My new office was on the second floor but at the opposite
end. It was about the size of Wilson's office. I remembered my office at
college, it was half the size of this one. I asked Cuddy which department
needed the most money and she prioritized the departments for me. I
grabbed newsletters and journals off of her desk and began.

For a month I worked like a dog and House was getting pissed. I was coming
home late and dinner was usually take out. He was starting to pout. I was
so tired that sex slipped to twice a week, which, granted, was twice more
than House had been getting before I moved in, but still down from the
five plus times a week before I started work. 

I wasn't making much to start, just minimum wage. It was going to take
three months before we started getting any of the grants awarded to the
various departments. Since House was pouting, I decided that I needed to
make him feel better. 

The annual fall "PPTH Medicinal Ball" (nice play on words) was being held
at the Hyatt. I didn't have a ball gown or cocktail dress to wear. I
didn't want to ask House to buy me one, he had already been extremely
generous. So I went down to the consignment shop and found a very sexy
dress by BCBG for only $75.00. It was a nice red full length halter dress
that plunged to my waist in the front. I got dressed and helped Greg with
his bowtie, which was difficult because he kept sticking his hand in the
front of my dress and fondling me. 

I was giving him dirty looks, we were already late. He wasn't fazed. "Your
eyes say no, but your breasts say yes."

I sighed, "We're not going to make it on time are we?"

With a sexy look he shook his head no. 

"Can I keep my dress on and just hike it up?"

"Works for me."

I laid down at the end of the bed, several pillows under me, hiked my
skirt, took off my panties as fast as I could while he dropped his
trousers. He was standing at the end of the bed. I undid my halter and let
the girls out to play much to Greg's delight. We started out nice and slow
but I was in a hurry so I picked up the pace. I wasn't as wet as usual
because I was just thinking about getting to the gala. Bad move. Without
my head in the game I was a little on the dry side and when you're tight
and dry, it's not a good combo. House wasn't having the same problem.
Screwing me in this dress was going to make his night. It was his teenager
logic, knowing all night long that he had "tapped that." But I knew it
would help make him behave at the gala so I went with it. He got out the
condom and put it on and in my haste to get things going, I contracted my
muscles as tight as I could to get him to come quickly. It worked. House
tilted his head back and enjoyed the sensation for about a minute. He
yelled out as he came over and over again. It had been awhile since we had
done it so he had been holding back for almost a week. When he came I
didn't think he was going to stop; it seemed like an endless ride. When he
was finished with his last thrust, he smiled at me and said, "Okay, we can
clean up and get going, I can last until we get home." He pulled out and I
could feel semen seeping down my leg.

"Greg, where's the condom?""

He looked down and said, "Damn, the condom is still inside you."

I turned white. "You can't mean that, how did it happen?"

"Gee, could it be you're tight and got tighter by clamping your muscles
down which jerked it off of me?"

"Oh my God, get it out!"

"Alright, lay back." He put his fingers up me and searched around, making
faces all the time. He started laughing, "I'm going to have to do a pelvic
exam to find it."

I must have looked mortified because he said, "This happens. More often
than you'd think. I need to go get my desk light."

So there I was, in my new formal, getting a pelvic exam by my boyfriend
who just lost his rubber inside me on the night of my first big gala. I
was so tense that Greg was having trouble examining me. He rubbed his
forehead and then yelled at me, "You've got to relax. I can't get inside
you if you're clamped down tight."

"Well yelling at me isn't going to do the trick!"

He calmed his voice down, "Do you want a Vicodin?"

"No, I want you to get that condom out of me so we can get going."

"Okay, scoot down to the edge of the bed, further, further...okay now drop
your knees to the side." He started searching inside with his long
fingers. Ten minutes later and a lot of yelling he found it and pulled it
out. Not a drop of semen was inside of it which meant all of the semen was
in me. 

We arrived an hour later than I had planned. But at least Greg was feeling
a little sheepish and much nicer to me than he had been just an hour
before. 

The rest of the night went well. When we got home we collapsed and went to
sleep. I try to get to sleep before Greg so that his snoring doesn't keep
me awake. It's strange how you develop your own little rituals and habits.
We tend to brush out teeth together or at least he tends to be in the
bathroom doing something while I brush my teeth. He leaves the toilet seat
up to piss me off. I tend to run to the bathroom in the dark at night and
have fallen into the bowl because of his little joke. I hate coffee and so
he makes me a cup of tea in the morning. I make dinner as often as I can
but not as often as he would like. He moans that when I don't make dinner
there's no leftovers for him to take to work for lunch. I simply remind
him that he has two hands but he hasn't made me dinner yet.

Sex is strange these days. We have weeks where we hump like rabits and
weeks where we barely kiss. But he's always generous in bed, I always
come. He goes to sleep within a few minutes of sex like clockwork unless
we're going somewhere. I like to lay there and feel his body, how hairy it
is compared to mine. I looke at his profile and how angular his nose is
and how long his eyelashes are. Everyone loves his eyes, well I do too,
but I love his nose. I think it's perfect for his face. He's always warm
and he has that musky smell but it isn't overpowering like some men. His
feet stink at the end of the day, but not too bad unless he's been on them
all day long. 

But the thing that I notice the most is his pain. I cannot imagine living
with the pain that he does. I've read his file and I've watched him when
he doesn't know it and it's always present. It's the 800 lb. Gorilla. I
wish I could take the pain for him, bear it so he could get some relief.
But he tells me it has been better over the last few months. Jim says
that's because he's living with me and the pain in his leg is worse when
he's having some emotional crisis. 

I had to get up early in the morning to get to Atlanta for a medical
seminar on writing grants. It was going to go for three days and I needed
to be there by 10:00 a.m. I left before he got up, but he woke long enough
to give me a kiss and pinch my butt. 

When I got back from the seminar I found my mail on the table, all opened.
One of the letters was from the trustees of my Aunt's trust. 

Dear Ms. Grogan,

The legal department of Washington National has now reviewed your aunt's
trust and you are the sole beneficiary. However, there were conditions
that your aunt drafted that determine when the trust can be distributed to
you. 

Your aunt indicated her concern about your prison sentence and her hopes
that you have, in her words, "gotten your life together." She has
instructed us to release the monies held in the trust to you over a period
of five years starting when you are forty years old or upon your marriage,
whichever comes first. Your Aunt's estate, after the sale of her house in
San Diego is currently $720,300. Please contact this office as soon as
possible to discuss the trust and, if you are married, please provide us
with a certified copy of your marriage certificate. Yours sincerely,
Donald Cavanaugh.

I couldn't think. It was upsetting to be reminded that my aunt was dead,
shocking to find out that she believed the drug charges against me and
lastly, that her estate was worth so much. But then I realized that her
house alone in San Diego was worth $650,000 even though it was only 2100
square feet and not even close to the beach. $720,300 over five years was
approximately $12,000 a month. 

I would be forty in just three years, I could hang on for that. I looked
around, picked up Greg's dirty clothes, took the dishes out to the kitchen
and straightened up. I laid down on the bed and called the hospital.

"Greg House."

"Hi, I'm home."

"Just a sec." House put the receiver down and I could hear him talking to
Cameron and Foreman about a patient. I waited, and waited and then
realized he had either forgotten I was on the phone or he just had
something more urgent. I hung up after ten minutes. If he had a patient,
he would be home late.

About two hours later he called, "Hello?" I answered.

"I'm sorry, I just got carried away. I'm not going to be able to get home
for awhile. Why don't you come down here and have dinner with me? You
could pick something up on the way down."

"Ugh...I was hoping to just stay in." 

"The honeymoon's over, you'd rather stay in than come see me after three
days away." He sounded disappointed.

"Oh, Okay baby. I'll pick something up, Chinese, Thai, pizza?"

"Chinese, that Special Shrimp from Dragon Blossom. Bye."

I changed from my pajamas and back into my street clothes. I grabbed my
purse and drove to Dragon Blossom. I bought enough Chinese food for four,
just in case his Team wanted some and made my way into the hospital. I
parked in my spot and walked past his motorcycle. I almost went over and
touched it, but concluded that in a minute I would be touching the real
thing. I walked up the stairs and it hit me how tired I was. 

He wasn't in and the outside office was empty too. I put the food on the
table and went and sat down in his easy chair, putting my feet up on the
ottoman. I fell asleep. The next thing I remember was waking and looking
out at Greg with his team, they were all eating Chinese food and talking
about the differential diagnosis. He looked in and smiled at me. I waved
and then went back to sleep, he wouldn't come up for air until he had
given them their marching orders.

I knew the long fingers on my breasts meant one thing, he was waking me up
to have office sex. He liked office sex but I found that it was usually
uncomfortable. I opened my eyes.

He tilted his head and squinted at me. "If I didn't know better, I'd say
you had a boob job. But I think you're just naturally bigger." He
straightened up and said with a look like a college professor and one
finger to his lip, "Now let's see, bigger breasts, stomach flu and
fatigue. Oh, not to mention a migrating condom."

"Oh come on. You're jumping to conclusions,"

"Did you read the title on my door? Diagnostics? That's what I do for a
living."

"Greg, I can't be. What would I do?"

"We'll do what millions of people do all over, we'll get married.'

"We're not ready for marriage."

"Speak for yourself."

I thought about the $12,000 a month and wondered if he was suggesting
marriage because of the money. But then, Greg made over $16,000 a month,
so it wasn't that.

"You want to get married?"

"If you're pregnant." He seemed so nonchalant.

"But only if I'm pregnant?"

"I love you, but I've never thought anyone should get married unless
they're going to have kids. Well, looks like you're determined to make me
a father, so let's get married."

'Let's not get ahead of ourselves, I'll pick up a test on the way home." I
thought about it and didn't know what to say to him. I wondered how he
felt about it. He could read me.

"It's okay, I've known for awhile.'

"What?"

"Stomach flu? Give me a break. Plus, the timing for the condom mishap was
perfect. I always knew we should have had a backup. I guess if remaining
childless had been that important, we both would have taken some further
precautions."

"Greg, being a Dad requires a lot of ..." I wanted to say sensitivity,
patience, gentleness.

"Money?" He saw the horror on my face, "I was just joking. You were going
to tell me that I'd have to learn to be "in touch" with my feelings. I
like kids before they can speak...I'll learn to like ours even when it
learns its ABC's." he smiled, "You do know our kid is going to have a
mouth on it. I have to get back, the team is probably done with their
tests. You go home and sleep." He reached down and kissed me.

I bought the test and I was so anxious I kept waking up all night. Greg
had gotten in around midnight and was dead to the world. At 5 am I
couldn't take it any longer. I went into the bathroom and peed on the
stick. House opened the door. "I'm taking a pee here if you don't mind."

"I know, I can hear the tinkle." I got up and he took my place to pee
while I put the wand down on the counter and washed my hands. I couldn't
watch the wand change. So many things went through my head. Do I want to
marry Greg? Do I want to be a mother? Isn't this going a little too fast?
I'm living in an apartment with a man and I have less than a quarter of a
closet for my things. Doesn't that say something about him.? Is he
committed to the relationship or is he just lonely and doesn't care who
crawls in bed next to him at night?

"You're really nervous, aren't you?" He was surprised.

"Aren't you? How can you be calm? This is going to effect you for the rest
of your life."

"I guess because I went through all those feelings two weeks ago when I
knew you were pregnant."

"Why didn't you say something then?"

"I wanted to think it through without any pressure one way or the other.
Did I ever tell you about the operation we did on this fetus? I was taking
him out of the womb to put a monitor on him when he grabbed my finger? I
thought a lot about babies and legacies after that. I always wondered why
the trailer trash of the world had more trailer trash than bright people
have bright kids? I figure our baby is my gift to the gene pool. It will
raise the level of it substantially."

"And my genes wouldn't?"

"Let's face it, Dr. Grogan, I never said you weren't smart. You just use
the wrong side of your brain. I like science, you like words. But I am
hoping the baby has your big right toe." He picked up the wand and said,
"Congratulations Mommy." My blood pressure dropped and so did I. House
caught me and started laughing. "Why don't we get you back to bed and I'll
bring you some tea?"

I recovered and as we were laying in bed drinking I must have looked dazed
because House kissed my forehead, "I assure you, women have children on a
daily basis. Some even do it several times in their life. You will make it
through this."

"Greg, when I was in prison, I thought it was all over for me. I had lived
with a guy in my twenties and we actually tried to get me pregnant, for
all the wrong reasons, and we couldn't do it. You know how statistics say
you're less likely to get pregnant as you get older? Well, I was in prison
during the last of my really fertile years. I thought God was sending me a
message that I wasn't motherhood material if I could let some jackass
convince me to be his mule. I spent a lot of time dumping that dream of
motherhood. I spent a lot of time turning off the part of me that wanted
to look through baby clothes, smile at kids in strollers, watch kids on
Santa's lap get their photos taken...you know. It was too painful. I just
can't believe that I get to be a Mom." I had tears coming down my face.

"You're going to be a great Mom. You're already a beautiful pregnant
woman."

I hugged him. It was times like these when, out of the blue, he would be
so romantic. It wouldn't last long but it was like that plant that only
blooms every forty years. It's a beautiful bloom but it stinks so much
when it opens that you're glad when it closes back up. Well, Greg as a
romantic was touching and I loved having glimpses of what was really going
on inside of him; but he was so corny, you kind of felt embarrassed for
him. But this was one time I didn't want him to close up. I could handle
the stink.

"We need to get married soon. Let's fly to Vegas next weekend, can you do
that now that you're no longer on probation?"

"Yeah, I can go anywhere now. I've served my debt to society for being
stupid and in love. I like the idea of going to Vegas, but I don't want an
Elvis wedding."

He looked terribly disappointed and started singing, "Don't be cruel to a
hear that's true... Come on, it will be fun. I'll buy you a big ugly
diamond that you can show off."

"Gee and I'm all about the jewelry. I don't care if you give me a cigar
band."

"I have a ring, it was my Grandmother's, my mother's mother." He jumped up
and went to his dresser and found it. He brought it back and opened it up,
"Reagan Grogan, will you marry me and have my baby?"

It was starting to stink, but I went along. "I will Gregory House." I
looked at the ring and it was perfect. It had a half karat diamond with a
circle of rubies and diamonds around it. It was petite enough to not
overwhelm my hand. It was a little large for my ring finger but we put a
band-aid around it as a spacer. And since we were both romantics and now
engaged we did what romantic couples do, we made love, twice.

I wanted Sadie to be my maid of honor but she still had two years left on
her sentence. So I was resigned to just using the paid witness at the
"Chapel of Love." House had convinced Wilson to fly out with us. We had
all asked for the Friday off. It was Thursday afternoon and Lisa Cuddy
came into my office.

"What's going on? You, House and Wilson have all asked for tomorrow off.
Why?"

"Nothing. House and I are just going to kick back and relax."

She was suspicious, "Well, since it isn't a big deal, I think I'm going to
need you to work on that M.A.R. Grant. It's due on Tuesday and I'd like to
review it first thing on Monday.

I tried to keep it together but my hormones were raging. I burst into
tears. Lisa lost her poker face, "I was just testing you. I'm sorry, you
can have the weekend off, no problem. But I'm just dying to know what's
going on...please?"

I dried my tears and sniffed a little before saying, "Greg, Wilson and I
are flying to Vegas. Greg and I are getting married at the Bellagio."

Her mouth dropped and her eyes widened. She didn't take a breath. Finally
she exhaled and said, "Oh my Fucking God. How did you convince House to
marry you?"

"He knocked me up."

She shrieked so loud that a couple of people ran to the door. She waved
them away and then came around and gave me a hug. "That is too funny. Greg
House a father! Oh this is going to ...I'm floored...only you could get
him down the aisle. Oh, can I come? I'd love to see you two get married."

"Really? I don't have a maid of honor. My female friends in San Diego and
I drifted apart when I went to prison and my prison friends are still in
prison. Would you like to be the maid of honor?"

She smiled widely, "I'd love to! What should I wear?"

"I'm going with a short cocktail dress that Greg bought me. You can wear
anything as far as I'm concerned."

"Going to the chapel and we're...going to get married...going to the
chapel... this is so cool."

"I'm really glad you're going with us." I gave her the details and we made
online flight reservations.

I told Greg that Cuddy was coming and he almost swallowed his tongue, "Who
are you inviting next? Cameron? Stacey? Chase?"

"No, but I needed a maid of honor."

"We've already paid for a maid of honor."

"I WANT MY OWN MAID OF HONOR."

He put his hands up in defeat, "Okay. Okay. Never argue with a pregnant
woman or is that an ex-con?"

We flew to Las Vegas and checked into the Bellagio. That evening at 7:00
p.m. we had our service. It was short, sweet and the photos show four
pretty happy people. We partied all night long, me sucking orange juice,
the others drinking champagne and tequila. All in all, my wedding night
was great, no sex, one passed out husband, but great. We spent Saturday
morning having sex and then we ate and the four of us went shopping.
Finally Greg's leg was giving out so we started gambling. We went to see
the Blue guys Saturday night, gambled some more and then went to bed.

On Sunday, the three of them had reservations to fly out at noon. I took a
plane at 8:00 a.m. to Sacramento and drove to Dublin to see Sadie. I was
so excited to tell her all the news. But I was worried, prison can really
screw with you. I was hoping I'd still recognize her. I didn't have to
worry. Sadie was as lovely and funny as ever. Prison hadn't sucked the
life out of her. She hugged me with those two long, thin arms of hers and
looked over sunglasses at me.

"You're look terribly happy. I'm glad to see that. When you wrote me last
you said that you and this Greg guy had moved in together. But I see a
ring on your finger...does that mean you're married?"

"Friday, in Vegas."

She let out a familiar little squeak, the one she gives when she finds
something deliciously interesting. "Anything else you want to tell Sadie?"

"I"m pregnant...due June 25th! I am so excited."

"Did you bring any photos?" I pulled out the wedding photos taken at the
chapel. She looked for a long time at the one of just me and House. 'He
doesn't give his feelings away easily, does he. He's happy but he doesn't
want anyone to know it in the photo."

Sadie had always been a good judge of character. She could read people
like no one else. She knew right away that I was innocent even though I
never said anything. Everyone in the Pen is innocent, just ask them. But
she pointed me out and said, "You don't belong here, do you pumpkin?' From
that point on she took care of me. The only time I ever ran into trouble
was when I wasn't with her.

Sadie was only two years older than me but she was decades ahead in
wisdom. She was the madam of the largest international house of
prostitution in the world. She serviced only the richest and most powerful
men. They paid well for it too. She was brought down by an eager beaver
D.A. in Los Angeles but he ended up losing his job over it and Sadie, was
sentenced in the federal rather than the state court so that she could
come to the Dublin Country Club.

We talked for an hour and then I left. I wanted to take her with me. She
was so funny and irreverent and House would have enjoyed her company. She
taught me how to take care of myself. She had worked her way out of East
Los Angeles, a pretty tough neighborhood. Sadie knew how to fight and she
taught me some tricks. She had naturally auburn hair with lighter streaks
of red in it. Her eyes were green and her body was naturally voluptuous.
It was round, no angularity whatsoever. She wasn't fat but she didn't
believe in being skinny, "Men aren't fashion photographers, they want a
soft place to land and grab on to."

If I was going to have a lesbian love affair, I'd have it with Sadie. But
she was straight as they come. She loved the feel of a man's penis in her
hand, mouth and body. She loved it. She really enjoyed sex, a lot. I hated
to leave her but I had a plane back to Princeton to catch. I think she was
shedding a few tears when I left, I know I was.

Chapter 16

Wooing Elephants

House walked through the clinic with his wife. His wife. He never expected
that he would have a wife. He had even dodged the bullet with Stacey,
convincing her there was no need to be married when you didn't have to be.
But House was no fool. He knew that when Reagan got pregnant she'd want to
have the baby and she'd want to get married. If he didn't marry her, she'd
eventually leave him and for some reason, the idea of losing her scared
the hell out of him. 

He felt alive again. She made him go places and do things he hadn't done
in years. She knew just when his leg was giving him too much pain, how to
massage it and how to take care of him. She spoiled him but she did it
without letting him get spoiled. She always kept him on his toes,
wondering what she would do next. Sometimes when he would wake up at night
from the pain in his leg, he wanted to touch her, make sure she wasn't
part of a hallucination. Will all of this last? I'll be here, waving my
bloody fist, firmly entrenched in this relationship until the bloody end,
but can she stick it out? I'm not the easiest person to live with. I tend
to test the most patient of souls. I wonder if she'll have the baby and
then get tired of my crap and leave? I don't leave relationships, I make
sure they leave, they carry the guilt, I get to be the one that was left.
He worried about Reagan leaving and just the thought made his leg ache.

House unlocked his office and put down his knapsack, walked into the outer
office and threw the files for the new patient on the table, went over and
poured himself his usual coffee. Cameron looked up and saw it right away,
the simple gold band on his left hand. She couldn't move at first but then
she swallowed and said, "Congratulations."

House stirred his coffee and considered her demeanor, she was clearly
upset, "Thanks."

Foreman looked back and forth at the two of them, "Am I missing
something?"

Chase looked and saw the ring, "So that's why you took Friday off, you
went to Atlantic City and got married?"

"Now if you could just apply that deductive skill to your work. Vegas, we
flew to Vegas." House said.

Foreman jumped up and shook House's hand while House stared blankly at
him. "You're a very lucky man. I don't care if she is an ex-con, she's an
incredible woman, you're very lucky."

"Thank you," he said tentatively, "now can we get back to the patient?"

Within an hour people were stopping by and offering their congratulations
to House and their condolences to Reagan. "Are you sure you know what
you've gotten yourself into?"

Reagan didn't know. She just knew the thought of not having House in her
life was unfathomable now. She loved him as much as the child she was
carrying and that scared her. You have to be mentally unbalanced to love
someone like House so much.

At noon Reagan went up to House's office and found him reading journals.
"Ready for lunch?"

House put his reading glasses down and followed her to the cafeteria. They
had been stopped by several people who wished then well, including Virgil.


"You are the luckiest man in the world House. I envy you.
Congratulations."

"Thanks Virgil." Reagan lifted up to kiss his cheek. 

By late afternoon, several of the doctors and staff wanted to meet at the
Triumph for an impromptu round of congratulatory drinks. House just wanted
to go home but he could tell by the way Reagan suggested they go that he
had no choice. So this is what marriage is like. Two equally vicious
dictators sharing power over one domain, except for one thing, she
controls the sex.

When they showed up, House was shocked by the number of people who were
milling around. He and Wilson were at the bar when he mentioned this.

"Half of them are here for Reagan, a quarter are here out of curiosity, an
eighth are here for you and the other eighth are here because they hate
you and have a morbid curiosity about your life."

"You're such an optimist. Always putting the best spin on things."

There were toasts and it was Tara who noticed it first. "Reagan, you
haven't had a drink of your champagne. You're pregnant aren't you?""

The entire crowd was silent. It was House that spoke up, "Yes, I have some
pretty healthy swimmers and we practiced a lot before the heat. My
swimmers won the match and the trophy is a small infant at the end of nine
months,"

There was still dead silence and then Tara started laughing. The whole
crowd started laughing and clapping. There were more rounds of
congratulations and more drinking.

The months passed and every chance he could get, House would drag Reagan
into the clinic and listen to the fetal heartbeat. He would find it and
then smile as they heard the rapid woosh-woosh of the heart. They didn't
want to give Reagan her first sonogram until she was twenty weeks. But in
the meantime, all the bloodwork was normal and House monitored Reagan's
health like a hawk. 

He bought a new digital camera and photo printer. Reagan was getting a
little tired of every time she turned around he was taking a picture. Even
the bathroom wasn't sacred. She had to admit it was interesting to watch
her belly expand. House made her stand every week in the same place
wearing the same sweatpants while he took a photo of her profile. In just
four short months her body had morphed into this round bubble, safely
holding and growing their baby. House had called the baby a fetus and
Reagan went ballistic.

"You're not going to make our baby your science project. You call it a
fetus once again and I'll go Oz on you and you'll regret it. I'm good with
a shank. Entiendes?"

"It's a fetus."

House never saw her so upset or angry, "Gregory House, you say that one
more time and I walk. I mean it...I'll walk out of here and not look back!
You have to commit to the idea that this is your baby or I'm outta here."
she stared at him with such determination that he knew there was some
truth behind the threat.

It was a baby from then on out.

Reagan was enjoying her new job immensely and as a result of it, got to
meet all of the staff in the hospital. She frequently met with the heads
of various departments to find out their needs and to have them help her
with terminology. By the third month of her job, the grants were starting
to come in, including a $250,000 grant for oncology. Reagan had worked
especially hard on it for Wilson because he had always been so good to
her. In appreciation, Wilson bought her a mother's locket in 18kt gold and
encrusted with several rubies and diamonds to match her wedding ring. The
Board was impressed when they held their quarterly meeting and Reagan
reported that two more grants for $30,000 and $50,000 had been awarded.
Most grants were between $5,000 and $40,000. But Reagan went for the big
ones. They took more time to prepare and more creativity, but they were
worth it in the end.

The New England Journal of Medicine had written a letter to House about
his first article, the one submitted on June 1st. The letter made no sense
to him and so he took it down to Cuddy, "They say they're going to print
it just the way it is, with minmal editing. They found my style to be very
unique." 

"What does that mean?" She asked. 

"How the hell do I know? I just dictated it and let Reagan do the spell
check and editing. I thought maybe you knew."

"Well, I guess we'll have to wait until it comes out." Cuddy shrugged and
then went back to work.

On the morning the Journal came out, House came in a little early to get
his copy. He was a little worried because, as he walked down the corridor,
people would point and laugh. A few would say, "Great article, I really
enjoyed it." Joy was not something that House usually elicited. House
walked into the office and saw the Team, Wilson and Cuddy all reading
their New England Journals of Medicine and laughing. Something was wrong
with this picture.

Fifteen minutes later, Reagan had been called into the room. 

The office was warm from the central heat. She looked at everyone sitting
and standing with their journals in their hands, "Well, hello everyone."
She smiled unknowingly. Each of them noted that she was starting to look
pregnant.

Cuddy responded, "Hello, Reagan, take a seat. I understand that you edited
House's article in June?"

I typed it, spell checked it and," she paused and looked at everyone, "I
might have added a few things." She looked around at everyone. They were
having a hard time containing their laughter. "Come on guys, what's up?"

"Just how boring did you find typing the article to be?" Cuddy asked.

"Pretty boring." She was looking at House who looked extremely annoyed.

"Well you certainly made it interesting for everyone else." Cuddy said.
She picked up the article and started reading, "The patient was Asian, a
handsome man with angular features and a frightened stare. He asked in
halted, stunted breaths, if what he had could be the avian flu? From the
rales and wet cough, I knew he had to have some type of respiratory
disease, but I was unsure if it was related to the avian influenza. I
needed more proof. I noticed his daughter. She was young and gorgeous,
probably early twenties, a student at Princeton. She had a slight tic in
her right eye and the beginnings of a cough. She seemed worried. "My
father just returned from China in an area where the avian influenza HN51
has been present for the last two years. She stopped, took a breath and
continued. "My mother died and he took her ashes back to her home to
Szhang Zee in China."

They all started laughing except for House.

"I don't get it, what's so funny?" she asked, worried about the look on
House's face.

"We don't usually describe the patients and their families in such poetic
terms." 

Wilson broke in, "This is my favorite, "The surgeon, Dr. Ty Mowbray,
entered the patient's room at a quick clip. His Ralph Lauren blazer and
Nautica pants screamed success..."

House asked her one question. He wanted to know about the second article,
the one he had worked so hard on, "Did you embellish my second article in
the same way?"

"Only a little," she said sheepishly, "I knew you had already done a lot
of editing on it."

He dropped his head in his hands. "Are you a moron? This is a medical
journal, not a Harlequin Romance novel. What was going through that wacko
head of yours? Do you have any brain cells?"

Wilson was feeling sorry for Reagan, "House, don't be so harsh. Your
article got published. Out of the hundreds of articles they get, yours got
published." 

Everyone else was giggling, trying not to break out into a full on laugh.
House looked at them, "Don't forget she's been typing your articles too!"

That sobered Foreman up. Chase still laughed and Cameron just looked
satisfied.

"Well, let's just see what the fallout is." Cuddy said to House.

House shook his head and his arms in frustration and yelled, "Aaaagh..."

Reagan looked at the floor like a broken child. Her bottom lip started to
quiver and House could see it coming. The tears fell from her eyes
directly to the tops of her feet. She didn't say anything, didn't sniff,
didn't breath. It broke his heart. He had hurt her feelings deeply. 

"Okay, you're not a moron. You're just...creative, too creative for your
own good." He took out a hankie and handed it to her. Everyone was now
quiet. It made them sad to see the perky, funny Reagan crying because of
them.

Chase came over and put his arm around her, "I loved it, I didn't think it
detracted from the medicine one bit and I actually wanted to read it and I
rarely want to read medical articles. If you want to type my articles,
I'll be happy to give them to you."

House was agitated, "Brown nose."

Reagan looked up and shot House a dirty look and then turned to Chase,
"Next time Chase, I'll marry you." She got up and walked out.

Chase laughed at House.

It turned out to be the most popular download of the New England Journal
of Medicine, making them thousands of dollars in download fees. It also
earned House some notoriety. Several magazines, including Time interviewed
him. House was in the doghouse at home for almost a month. 

House tried to make her stop punishing him. He came at her from different
angles, "Don't be a baby, you're an adult. You should be able to take
criticism." "For God's sake you can't pout the entire pregnancy." "You
screwed up my article and I'm suppose to thank you?" But his anger lost
steam as he became the darling of the medical field for his journal
articles. His second one was also picked up and printed the following
month. It wasn't as flowery as the first but it turned out to be the
second most downloaded article. The reality was that the articles not only
had great medical information but the writing was so unique that doctors
all over took the time to read them. It turned out to be a win-win for the
Journal and House.

House couldn't get Reagan to acknowledge him at home. As a result, he was
in such a foul mood at work that Chase came in and sat down across from
him. "She's still pissed, huh?"

"She's an elephant."

"Huh?"

"Doesn't forget."

"Oh. Well here's what you do. You call her and tell her that the landlord
has said you have a leak but you can't get away. She'll have to go home.
When she gets there she finds that you have nice, romantic candles lit, a
bath drawn for her with bath oils, rose petals everywhere, especially on
the bed and a dozen of them on the table with a card that says, "You can
edit my articles any day, because in the end, you are all that matters."
And you have her favorite meal catered. That's what it's going to take.
You humiliated her in front of us for something she considers herself good
at. She's a writer House...it would be like chastising you for being a
great diagnotician." Chase got up and walked out.

House thought about it. Reagan was certainly punishing him . They hadn't
had sex since the article came out. She wasn't cooking his dinner or
washing his clothes. She would clean one sheet and one pillow case, then
tell him that he had to do the other. She didn't watch television with him
but read in bed each night. He was lonely and wanted her back. He had
tried to be nice to her and had even washed her clothes for her, but she
wasn't buying it.

House bought the roses, the rose petals, a DVD, and some expensive
earrings. He ran a hot bath, added some oils from Bath & Body, had some
massage oil by her side of the bed, had a meal catered and in the evening
and even bought 1000 count sheets for the bed. He filled out the card just
as Chase had told him to do. He had candles in the living room, bathroom
and bedroom. He made the call from his cell.

"Reagan Grogan."

"It should be Reagan House."

Her voice turned edgy, "What do you want? Make it quick, I have work to
do."

"The landlord called, we have a leak and they need you to be there to let
the plumber in. He should be there in a few minutes."

"Why me?"

"Because I have a patient that's about to die if I don't figure out why."

He heard her sigh, pissed that she had to leave. "Okay." click.

He smiled and waited. Her car pulled up outside the apartment and she got
out. She looked around for the landlord or the plumber but there was no
one. She was pissed. It was 4:30 p.m., even if they didn't show, it was
too late to go back and get anything accomplished. She was home for the
day. 

She opened the door and could smell the rose candles and roses on the
table. House was sitting in the bathroom waiting for her to make it back
to him. Why are all these candles lit? Did the power go out too? Is Greg
here? Roses, rose candles, what is this? She went to the table and looked
at the roses with an envelope that said, "To my darling wife." Dearest
Reagan, "You can edit my articles any day, because in the end, you are all
that matters." Oh God, how sweet! I hope he means it.

She followed the petals to the bedroom and saw her robe laying out and the
bed turned down with new sheets. Then she followed the roses into the
bathroom and he was standing there with a glass of orange juice. The room
had more candles and scented bathwater. House was standing in just a pair
of boxer shorts and a bow tie.

"Madam, your bath awaits you."

She thought hard about it. She wasn't sure she wanted to give in yet, but
this had been quite an effort. If I take the orange juice from him the
game is over. I'll have won but has he paid enough of a price? God, he
looks so handsome and repentant. I desperately want to screw him. 

Reagan took the orange juice and sipped it. He smiled, obviously relieved.
He helped her take off her coat and unzip her dress. She sliped out of
everything while he hung the coat in the closet. When he came back she was
naked, her four month belly protruding sweetly. He motioned to the tub.

"Aren't you going to join me?" she asked.

He had the boxers off before she finished the question. She laughed. He
got into the water, "It's just right, I've been topping it off with hot
water every five minutes." She got in, laid back against him and let him
wash her. She sat for what seemed like an eternity just relaxing with his
arms around her. 

House bent down and whispered in her ear, "Honey, I need to get out, the
dinner needs attending."

"Dinner?"

"Lobster Thermidor from "Laurel's"." 

"Really?"

He nodded. 

"You really know how to apologize, don't you?" She scooted forward and
stood up so that they could both get out. He wrapped the robe around her
and then went to the kitchen. She blew out most of the candles in the
bathroom and followed him. Reagan took another look at the roses and
smiled, they were so beautiful. He brought their plates and sat them down
on the table. House removed the large bouquet so they could see each
other. 

Before he said anything else he produced the earrings, diamond and ruby
studs. They matched her wedding ring. She reached over and kissed his
lips. "This wasn't necessary, but I really do love them. Thank you honey."

"How was your day?" he asked as the attentive husband.

"It was crappy until a half hour ago. This was so sweet. I love you so
much. I just want to eat and go to bed." 

"Sounds like a plan."

They ate and went to bed, making love with her on top.

Chapter 17 

Demons

Reagan was scheduled to have her first ultrasound in a week. Both House
and Reagan were excited, House kept telling her that he wanted one of
those grainy polaroids of the ultrasound that he could frame saying, "My
Fetus can Kick Your Fetus's Tail." Reagan corrected him gently, "Unborn
Baby."

Reagan had been instructed by Cuddy to focus on the Emergency Room grants.
Reagan found two grant proposal requests that she was pretty sure would
work for the Emergency Room. She went down to talk to the head of the
department, Kurt Simindinger. 

She had found him waiting impatiently in the ambulance bay waiting for
three ambulances full of victims of an automobile accident. While they
were discussing the grant proposals, an ambulance pulled up not associated
with the accident. There were no sirens, but the drivers still worked
quickly to get the patient out of the ambulance. 

Kurt yelled at the guys, "Hey, I need you guys out of here as soon as you
unload him. We have several busses coming in. What have you got?"

"Male, caucasion, 40, unconscious. Called in by his girlfriend."

"Insurance?"

"Yeah, here's his card."

"Okay, Cathy." Kurt yelled to the nurse who was running in their
direction, "Here's his card, Robert Jakes, put him in room 3."

Reagan was writing down some budget information that Kurt had given her
when Reagan heard the name. The paramedics wheeled him by and she tried to
get a good look, but she couldn't see him, the paramedics were in the way.
Her heart started pounding and her head was screaming. Robert Jakes? It
can't be. Robert Jakes? How old would he be now? He was about two or three
years older than me. That would make him about 40. Robert Jakes was here?
Why? 

Reagan stumbled back and would have fallen except that Kurt grabbed her,
"Reagan, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Kurt. Can we do this tomorrow?" Her voice sounding constricted and
small, like a child's.

He could see she was dazed. Her upper lip had small beads of sweat and she
looked gray, like she was going to faint, "Sure tomorrow's fine. Are you
sure you're okay? Let one of the doctors look at you."

"I'm just a little sick to my stomach. Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow." She
turned and felt wobbly, the walls were closing in on her.

As she left Kurt yelled out, "Hey Reagan, thanks for your help, I
understand you've already submitted one grant for our department. Thanks,
no one else seems to care about us down here."

"They care, they just haven't had time before to do anything." Reagan
smiled and left Kurt to wait for the ambulances. She went to Emergency
Room 3 and saw a nurse hooking the patient up to monitors and an I.V.
Reagan looked at the face and knew she wasn't mistaken. The man in front
of her was almost 6 feet with handsome features. His face reminded her of
Robert Redford when he was younger. The brown hair was, grayer, his eyes
and upper lip had more wrinkles. He was thinner and his skin slightly
yellow, but it was him. Robert Jakes was laying on the white sheets of the
gurney like an apparition from her past.

Reagan's body felt heavy. It took all of her energy to drag herself back
to her office and sit down. Her stomach rolled over and over. She sat in
the chair staring out the window at the cold, dove gray sky. It was
snowing. Reagan looked at her cheap Timex watch and saw that she had been
sitting there for an hour. She called Cuddy, "Lisa? It's Reagan. I'm not
feeling well, I'm taking off. I'll be in tomorrow.'

"If you're feeling sick maybe you ought to have someone examine you? Does
House know?"

"No, I'll be okay. I just need to lay down."

Reagan was lucky to get home. In fact, she didn't even remember how she
got home. The drive was a blur to her. She sat down in the easy chair and
stared ahead remembering the scene at customs with the damn beagles. She
had been looking forward to getting home. Her mother was waiting for her
at LAX to drive her to San Diego. But as she pulled her bags from the
carousel, the good looking customs agent with the beagles was being
dragged towards her. Their yapping and excitement was unnerving. She
couldn't figure why they were barking at her. She felt an arm under her
shoulder pull her towards a door as she dragged her luggage with her other
hand. I was put in that small room, that horrible little room. Just me and
my claustrophobia. 

She flashed to the look on her Mom's face when the sentence was
pronounced. They had worked on the plea bargain for a month but her
mother's face was still distraught when the judge said five years. It was
as if her Mom was hoping the judge would see what a sweet, innocent girl
Reagan was and miraculously dismiss the charges. He didn't and Reagan
kissed her Mom on the cheek as she was led away to jail and then to
prison. The tears were streaming down her mother's tired and stressed face
like a a drip from a water tap that couldn't be shut off.

The monthly visits from her Mom in prison were even more painful. Her
worry about Reagan's health and happiness was an anchor that pulled her
mother's face down further and further with each visit.

Reagan never forgot the day her Aunt called her in prison. The guards came
and got her and took her to an office, not the normal reception room with
the telephone, but the counselor's office. Her aunt was crying, "Your Mom
has cancer, lung cancer. Honey, it's stage four, they can't operate. They
aren't even going to give her chemo." The guilt and pain of not being able
to be with her Mom through the cancer came flooding back. The fact that
her Mom died alone had been a huge cross to carry. Reagan hardly spoke to
anyone the year after her Mom died. At one point they put her on suicide
watch but Sadie had kept her from doing anything stupid.

She thought of Robert Jakes and the many years of her life he had taken
from her; not to mention the feelings of worthlessness she felt when she
got out. The pain as she was turned down over and over for a job. She went
numb.

House got home at 5:45 p.m. "Cuddy said you went home sick, is that true?"
Reagan stared up at him but there was no recognition. "Reagan? Honey? Are
you okay?"

She didn't respond. House bent down and looked in her eyes. She was
tracking him but she seemed spaced out. He yelled, "REAGAN!"

She blinked and looked up at him, "Greg?"

'What the hell were you thinking about? You were in another dimension."

She stood up, looked at him and said, "I was just thinking about the
ultrasound next week. How real it will be to us after we see it."

"Dinner?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't cook anything."

He was disappointed, "Well let's get something ordered in."

"Yeah, okay."

House ordered in some Chinese and when it arrived he fixed himself a
plate, but she didn't move from the chair. She's just sitting there, why?
I guess I should make her a plate. House got down another plate, put some
food on it and took it into her. He sat down on the sofa and looked at
her. She was just staring. He put the food down in front of her on the
coffee table. "Reagan, it's the shrimp we like." He watched as she just
sat there staring at the food. "Aren't you hungry honey?"

There was a pause and she finally looked in his eyes, "Huh? Oh, no. I'm
not hungry, thanks." 

He leaned over and put his hand on her forehead. She wasn't running a
fever. He tilted her chin so he could get a good look in her eyes,
"Reagan, you're worrying me. Come on, what's happened?" She was apparently
in shock over something. 

He grabbed her hand and pulled her over with him on the couch. He held her
and kissed her on her head. He just kept holding her until she finally
went to sleep in his arms. He had to wake her up an hour later to get her
to bed. They went in and she just sat on the edge of the bed for awhile
doing nothing. She finally laid back and stared at the ceiling. House
pulled her over to him and held her tight, really tight. He felt the
belly, rubbed it over and over to soothe her. She's asleep. She's so
beautiful. Her body is rounder, her belly is rounder, her breasts rounder.
This pregnancy thing is so overwhelming, so interesting. She smells so
good, like almond hand lotion. Maybe I should call in sick tomorrow and
stay home with her. Something has upset her. He kissed her ear and fell
asleep.

When the alarm went off Reagan was already in the shower. House came in to
take a leak and see how she was doing. "How are you feeling?'

She yelled over the shower curtain, "Okay. I'm going to take my car today,
I have some errands to run."

"I'll be home around 5:30, I have that department heads meeting."

"Fine." she had stopped the shower and was getting out. She put the towel
around her and grabbed him. She looked in his eyes for an inordinate
amount of time and then said, "I really love you Greg. Just the way you
are. The most important thing in the world to me is that you try to be
happy. Okay?"

He scrunched up his face. She was trying to say something without saying
it, "You're not making sense."

"I know." She reached up and kissed his lips and then hugged him.

"Reagan, you're acting weird. I don't think you should go in to work. I'll
call in and we can stay home, watch some old movies."

"No, I have things to do. I love you honey."

He didn't know why, he wanted to say something funny or biting, but
something inside told him that he needed to let her know. He held her by
her shoulders and said it slow and deliberately, "I love you and the baby.
You're everything to me, you do know that?"

She just nodded and went into the bedroom to get dressed. House had a
horrible feeling that he was being flung into a fate he had no control
over. He almost grabbed her and held her down, keep her from leaving, but
he had no logical reason for doing it, so he let her walk out the door.

Chapter 18

Baggage

I drove to work debating what to do in my head. From one moment to the
next I would talk myself into it and then out of it. I parked my car and
spent the morning tidying up all the loose ends that I could. I made sure
that all the grant proposals I had in process were in the mail by noon. I
was suddenly hungry. I hadn't eaten since noon the day before. I went to
the cafeteria and had a really big lunch with Tara. She asked me if I was
okay, I seemed out of sorts. I was.

I got back to my office and just sat there watching the tic tock of my
clock count down the minutes. The phone rang. "Reagan Grogan."

Greg's voice was hurried but concerned, "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, I've got to go but I'm okay."

"I'll see you tonight." He said.

Normally I would have responded with something about seeing him , but I
just said, "I love you, bye." I wrote the letter, a short one, put it in
an envelope marked 'Greg" and then in my purse. I was surprisingly calm
and ready. I looked around at my life, the photos on my desk, the art on
the walls and smiled, turned out the light and walked into my destiny.

I took the elevator to the fourth floor where he had been transferred. I
looked around. Everyone was too busy to notice me. The camera in the
corridor, was taking everything in but I knew that there was nothing I
could do about it. They would watch the tape and know it was me. 

I was past being nervous, I was resigned. I walked in and saw the machines
he was hooked up to, I saw the drips going into his arms. I looked at th
SOB and my heart grew cold and black. I hate him, I'd never hated anyone
in my life, but I hated him. With every rise and fall of his chest I felt
the hate flow through me. His face, still handsome, was slightly yellow.
It was a beautiful cover to a cancerous soul. I looked out the window for
a brief second. It was snowing. Every fiber of me wanted this man dead.
Something in the back of me was begging me to run, get out, not do it. But
I looked back at him and my mind went blank. I leaned over and grabbed the
tube and used my thump to turn the roller as I stopped the drips. Then I
went over and turned off his respirator. I figured he wouldn't die right
away, I would have time to get off the floor. 

I turned and calmly walked out the door, keeping my eyes on the door to
the stairs, I walked until I reached the knob, no one said anything, not a
word. I opened the door and ran down the stairwell to the bottom. I pulled
my keys from the purse. I drove home as fast as I could, opened the
drawer, found the key I needed, ran to the garage across the alley where
we kept our things. I grabbed Greg's camping backpack and ran back inside.
I called the nurses desk on the fourth floor and they confirmed that
Robert Jakes was dead. If I didn't get out of her, the police would
probably be here soon and arrest me. I'd go back to prison.

I opened the backpack and threw in some clothes, a toothbrush, toothpase,
a brush, and my vitamins. I climbed the step stool and took the money we
stashed in an old hollowed out book. I packed my passport, emptied my
purse and took my wallet, a pen, my cell phone and a tube of chap stick. I
put the letter on the table, grabbed my mother and aunt's picture off the
wall, packed a few photos of Greg, one of our wedding and took some fruit
off the counter. I took a look at a website for the train tracks
throughout the United States and then turned off the computer. As I ran to
my car I realized that I had forgotten to erase the history on the
computer, but I wasn't sure that House would even think to look there. I
started my old car and drove as fast as I could towards Texas. I felt the
baby kick me hard as I left Princeton.

 ********************** House was worried about Reagan, but things were
going south with his patient on the fourth floor and he'd have to check in
on her later. He was just coming out of the patient's room when he saw his
wife, in a trance, walking from a patient's room with the emotionless face
of a robot. It worried him. He went to the patient's room and saw that he
was breathing but the respirator was turned off and the drips had been
stopped. He looked at the chart, there were no notes ordering them stopped
or stating why they had been stopped. Did Reagan do it? He turned them
back on and started the drips again until he could figure it out, just in
case. He called a nurse in. 

"What's the story with this guy?"

"He's just being given palliative care. Lung failure, Hepatitis. The
doctor told me he'll be gone within the hour. His last BP was 55/30 so
he's slipping fast. We've got him on saline and morphine. The respirator
isn't breathing for him, it's just assisting."

House looked at the guy. Why was she turning off his morphine? Respirator?
Was this euthanasia? He looked at the name, Robert Jakes. Why did it sound
so familiar? Who was this guy?

"How'd he get the Hep?"

"His girlfriend said he used to be a big time drug smuggler, but the drugs
got him. That's why he didn't get a new liver, he's still hooked on the
drugs." It clicked, this was the guy who had put Reagan in prison. She
wasn't trying to put him out of his misery, she was trying to kill him! No
wonder she had been a basket case.

"Here's my card with my cell phone on it, let me know when he dies."

"Yes, Dr. House."

House ran as fast as his bad leg would let him to her office. Before he
got there, the phone rang, "Dr. House, Mr. Jakes just died."

He thought about it, "Thanks."

He opened the door to the office and it looked like someone was working
but it also looked empty, tidy. He dialed her cell phone but she wouldn't
pick up. He went down to the parking lot and got into his car. The snow
was coming down in whirling flakes and sticking everywhere. It's damn
cold. When he got home there was no sign of her car. He relaxed. She must
be running errands. I'll just wait for her and try to find out why she did
what she did.

House opened the door to the apartment and immediately noticed the purse
and the contents strewn all over the table. He saw the empty hollow book
on the floor; the money was gone. Then there was the letter.

His heart sank, he was sweating and shaking, God no, please no.

Dearest, Dearest Love,

If you don't already know, you'll probably find out soon what I did. I
couldn't help myself. I'm so sorry. I know what this means and I can't
have our baby in prison. Please don't try to find me. I won't be
contacting you. I don't want you to have to lie to the police about my
whereabouts. 

You have given me the best time of my life. I promise to take good care of
our baby. I love you and I want you to be happy. Divorce me as soon as you
can. Forget about me and the baby and find someone new, someone who isn't
as pig-headed as me. Someone who can give you everything that I can't.

I want you to be happy. Be happy my love. BE HAPPY.

All My Love,

Reagan XXOO

The cry was primal and could be heard throughout the building. He
collapsed onto the dining chair, holding his head in pain. When he was
able to control the waves of emotion he called the police to report a
missing person. 

"...She's pregnant and may be very ill. Please, her license is New Jersey,
23KB055."

"We'll put everyone on notice, but only because she may be ill. If we find
her and she doesn't want to come back, we won't stop her," the cop warned.

"If you find her, tell her that she didn't do what she thought she did.
It's very important that you tell her that. Please."

"Okay, I'll let them know-"You didn't do what you thought you did."
Right?"

"Yes."

House called Wilson, 'Can you come over? I have a problem."

"House, I just got home and I'm really tired. Can this wait until
tomorrow?"

House paused, "She's left, gone."

"Reagan?"

"Reagan. She thinks she killed someone."

Wilson was over in less than half and hour. He had his gloved hands inside
his brown overcoat. The snow was starting to build up and he stepped
lightly through the powder as he made it to House's door. 

House opened it before Wilson could knock and, with a somewhat sad air,
entered the room.

"What's going on? What happened?"

"She was acting strange yesterday. I didn't know why. I saw her on the
fourth floor coming out of a patient's room. I went into the patient's
room and the drips were shut off and so was the ventilator."

"Oh my God. What happened?"

"Nothing happened, really. For one thing I turned everything on within a
few minutes. The drips were morphine and saline; the respirator, just
assisting. He had terminal liver failure, it was a matter of minutes
before he died."

"So the guy was dying anyway. Okay, so she didn't do anything to harm
him."

"He died a few minutes later. She thought she had killed him, she wanted
to kill him. He was the guy who framed her and put her in prison. She left
me this letter."

Wilson read the letter and shook his head, "My God. Did you call the
police?"

"They're looking for her, but if she says she doesn't want to go back,
they won't make her."

"Well what can we do?"

He yelled at Wilson, all the anger he had at Reagan coming out, "I don't
know!" He immediately knew it wasn't Wilson's fault and that he didn't
deserve his anger. He didn't apologize but he gave Wilson a look that told
him he was sorry.

Wilson didn't flinch. He gave House a reassuring look and said, "I think
you need to hire a detective right away. I don't think you ought to let
too much time go by."

"You're right." House brought up the computer and did a search for Michael
Hornsby. "I had a patient who was considered a pretty good investigator,
I'm calling him, if he's still around."

An hour later Michael Hornsby was in House's living room. "Well, she's
traveling light. How much money do you think she has?"

"$300-400 in cash from here, I don't know if she went to the ATM or not.
If she has, she might have more like thousands." House said.

"We need to know if she got to the ATM. When did you go last?"

"This afternoon at lunch." He pulled out his receipt. The balance was
$8,445.90 in checking.

"All right, we'll go check it in a minute but tell me what you think she
took with her?"

House went around the apartment. "Some clothes, her cell phone, some
fruit, the toothpaste, toothbrush. Her heavy jacket, her stocking cap, her
gloves. She took her brush, the money, her wallet....wait, just a minute."
He ran back to the top drawer. He came back out to the living room
frowning, "She has her passport."

"Damn, that's not good." Mike pinched his lips together.

House was pretty sure Mike was going to say that. Michael told him, "Well
let's find out what the damage she did at the ATM." 

It turned out that she had made a stop and pulled out exactly $1000.00. So
she had about $1300 and her credit cards. "Not enough cash to escape to
Europe, but enough to get to Mexico."

House felt a chill go down his spine. He was getting worried. Was she good
enough to cover her tracks all the way? Could he find her? He felt his
world crashing around him. His leg ached liked hell.

 ***** It was cold, really, really cold. It was snot freezing on your
upper lip cold. But the only way I was going to stay under the radar of
the cops was to ditch the car and go on foot. I went to Washington D.C.'s
Amtrak station and parked the car. I called PPTH and left a message on
House's voice mail at work, I knew he wouldn't answer, he'd be at home.

"Honey, the car is down at the D.C. Amtrak parking lot." I hung up. He and
the police would think I was going to hop one of the Amtrak trains but I
wasn't going to take Amtrak. I was going to hop a freight train.

What most people don't know is that freight cars are fairly high up off
the ground and hard to crawl into, especially when you're five months
pregnant. I found some Yardies, (guys who work the yards and are pretty
tolerant of hobos who hop freights) and asked them to show me the first
freight leaving in the direction of New Orleans. They pointed to one that
was leaving in two hours going to San Antonio, Texas via New Orleans. That
was even better. I could cross the border at Piedras Negras.

I threw my back pack in first and then used the lip of the door to pull me
up to a point where I could get my knee up on the platform of the car.
Then I gave a huge yank and rolled myself into the box car. It didn't look
very pretty, but it did the trick. The box car smelled like urine. On long
trips, the guys would use the corner closest to the back, away from the
door, as a toilet. It was just a part of life on the tracks. I was used to
the smell of urine from prison and jail so it didn't bother me that much.

I sat down and looked around, there was no one in the box car with me. I
was hoping it would stay that way, but doubted it. This was a good ride,
going a long way and this was the only box car I could find that was both
empty and not locked. Usually the Yardies opened one of the empty box cars
for the hobos so that we wouldn't break a lock to get into another one.
About twenty minutes before we took off an older guy jumped the car. He
was a nice guy, had a beard like House except the hobo's was white. He
quickly told me his name was Cory. 

"You pregnant?"

"Yes."

"He beat you?"

"No, he treated me well."

"Why ya hoppin' freights?"

"I screwed up."

"Cops lookin' fer ya?"

"Yep. What about you?"

"Just a drunk."

"Fair enough."

Over the last hour the temperature had dropped into the twenties. I was
cold but I had bundled up. It wasn't pleasant, that's for sure. I was
afraid to sleep, I thought I might freeze or someone might steal what
little I had brought. As I sat, waiting for the train to take off, the
baby not only twisted and turned but now, having discovered the joy of
kicking, was giving my ribs a pounding. I squirmed, trying to get the baby
to stop, but that just seemed to set it off. Finally, the train lurched
and we were on our way. As the train swayed on the tracks, the baby calmed
down. 

The box car just got colder as the wind now pierced the wood slats and
floor. Cory took pity on me. "You stay warmer if you come over here, sit
against the side in the middle, away from the wind and away from the
piss."

"Thanks." So I joined him. He didn't smell too fresh, but I was tired and
needed some sleep and he was right, it was warmer. I curled up in a ball
and used my back pack to put my head on.

I had a dream. I dreamed the Feds caught me and put me in Dublin again.
Sadie delivered my baby and they took it away. I didn't even get to see
what sex it was. I was screaming and crying. It was horrible. I woke up.
Of course the dream would never come true because the murder I committed
was a state offense and I'd be sent to a New Jersey state prison, not
Federal. I wouldn't be in a nice, cosey, minimum security prison either.
Murderers usually do hard time.

It was starting to get light and I was hungry. I pulled out an apple and
ate. I figured I'd be living on water and fruit for a few days until we
got to San Antonio. I soon realized that at each station, I had time to
get out and go to the bathroom and grab a snack. I bought some food
because I didn't know when or where we would stop. Cory and I were joined
by several people who hopped on and off as we would stop to pick up and
drop off box cars. They all thought Cory and I were traveling together.
One even asked Cory how he felt about being a Dad at his age. He told them
it felt great. I laughed at him and he smiled.

Three days later we were in San Antonio. I gave Cory all the water and
food I had so he could catch another freight. I jumped off and decided to
treat myself to a cheap motel to get cleaned up. I found a pretty seedy
one for $30 but it had a bed and a bathroom. I stayed from when I checked
in at 4:00 pm to checkout at 11:00 the next morning. I had washed my
clothes in the sink and waited as long as I could for them to dry before
packing up and checking out.

I caught a bus to Eagle Pass, the border town across from Piedras Negras
and, along with most of the bus of Mexican Nationals, crossed the border.
There was no fuss, I just walked across. I felt some relief. Mexico didn't
extradite if the defendant was faced with a capital offense unless the
D.A. agreed not to pursue the death penalty. I had at least kept myself
from a lethal injection, but now I had to decide where to go.

I knew the west coast of Mexico better than the east. I didn't dare go to
Baja, too many people from San Diego use Baja as their playground. I
didn't want to be recognized. So I decided on Puerto Vallarta, a lovely
city on the Mexican Riviera. I'd been there years ago on spring break and
had enjoyed it. I found the bus station and within three hours I was on my
way to my new home town.

 *******************

Mike and House were in the parking garage of Amtrak in Washington. They
drove up and down until House found her 1996 Ford Escort. He unlocked it
and searched it. There were no clues. Mike checked around. No one knew
anything. Pregnant women going somewhere in this hub were a dime a dozen.
They didn't realize that Reagan had stuck out because of the large
backpack. Had they asked about a pregnant blonde with a large backpack
they would have gotten somewhere. A couple of the train station employees
had thought it was odd for a single pregnant woman to be walking around
with such a large framed backpack. Not knowing about the backpack lost
Mike and House valuable time.

House had filed the missing persons report but there had been no word. He
remembered her always saying that she had learned a lot of things in
prison, he suspected that being able to keep under the radar was one of
them. He was sure that she would go to Mexico. She would think that in
Mexico she would be beyond the reach of the police. She knew parts of the
country and she spoke enough Spanish to get her in trouble. He told Mike
that, if she wasn't going back to California, she was probably in Mexico.

Mike spent the next two months trying to catch a break. It was only when
House was in his garage and noticed that his sleeping bag was out of place
did it register. She might have come out here to get something. He looked
around and noticed his $500 backpack with the light titanium frame, was
missing. 

"Mike I just found out that she took my titanium framed backpack. The type
you use for long mountain treks."

"Christ, I wish we had known that earlier. A pregnant woman with a big-ass
backpack would stick out like a sore thumb. Well, I'll take her photo back
and see if anyone remembers her."

House hung up the phone and sat back on the sofa. He jumped back up and
grabbed the whiskey, something he was doing a lot. Drinking kept him from
crying. And as his Dad said, "Good little Marines don't cry." But
sometimes he did. On those nights when he knew she was out there, alone,
worried about going back to prison and running as far from him as
possible, he cried. 

It was late May and Reagan had been gone for over four months. Cuddy and
Wilson had lunch one afternoon in the cafeteria to discuss House, "Is
there anything you can do? Even his team is saying that he's unbearable.
He's more abrasive and abusive than usual. He's coming to work smelling
like a distillery and his Vicodin intake has increased. I don't know how
long I can keep him. I'm about ready to suspend him."

"I'll try talking to him but he's so miserable, I don't think he cares
what you do to him. The worst has already been done."

"Why did she leave him? I thought they were doing well."

"Despite the rumors, it had nothing to do with House at all. It was a
misunderstanding. She thought she had done something that might send her
back to prison and she couldnt' stand the thought of having her baby in
prison. Turns out she hadn't done anything. All this was unnecessary."

"Why doesn't he hire an investigator to find out where's she gone."

"He has. He's spent over $30,000 so far trying to find her. They only have
one lead."

"What?"

"A guy who works in the rail yards told the investigator that she hopped a
freight train to San Antonio. It sounds like a good lead. He was able to
describe her without the photo."

"So she's in San Antonio?"

"No, she's most likely in Mexico."

"Mexico? Pregnant and in Mexico? Can he trace her in Mexico?"

"He's trying. It's not easy." 

Wilson went over that night to watch The Shield with House. House wasn't
looking well. The closer it got to Reagan's due date, the worse House
looked. He was hardly tolerable. 

"Any word?'

"No, he brought me some photos the other day of a blonde, pregnant woman
living in Sonora. Some fat woman. Not Reagan. He has a possible lead in
San Felipe."

"Well," Wilson said, resigned, "Well what else can you expect?"

"I can expect my wife to come back; for her to be found...I want her
back!!" House was yelling, not at Wilson but at the pain that weighed him
down every day. Wilson just nodded, he understood.

 ***************

When I arrived in Puerto Vallarta I asked around to try and find a place
to live. I stayed in the cheapest hotel I could find until I met a woman
in a local caf,, a Mexican woman with two little girls of her own. She
took pity on me, saw that whenever I ordered I was eating as cheaply as I
could. I wanted to make my money last. 

In Spanish she said, "You need a place to live?"

"Yes. But I don't have a lot of money."

"There is a little place over by me. An old woman lived there. She died
last week. You want to go look at it? I go home at 4:00 pm. If you come
here at 4:00 you can go over there with me."

I went with her and it was a one room house with a bathroom. It had a tiny
kitchenette with old appliances, a little two burner stove and oven and a
tiny refrigerator. It was perfect for my needs. I rented it at $100 a
month from Miguel de San Allende. Now I needed a job. I wanted to find
something where I would be low key, something to pay for the roof over our
heads and for food. I didn't need much, I just wanted things to calm down
so I could find a way to tap my inheritance. I had provided my marriage
certificate to the trustees and the money was going into an account in
Princeton. I knew it might be a long time before I could access it. The
police would probably have it flagged. I needed to find a way to move it
offshore and then get an ATM card for it. But that would take awhile,
probably years and I'd probably have to go to Princeton to do it. In the
meantime, I just needed a job.

I had to buy a bed, a chair, a table with dining chairs and a chest of
drawers. Magdalena, the next door neighbor, found a bed frame for me and I
bought a new mattress. I became friends with several of the neighbors, all
incredibly nice and they took pity on me. One afternoon I had an old table
and dining chairs sitting next to my door when I got home from looking for
a job. 

Looking for a job wasn't going so well. Most of them told me to come back
after I gave birth. As far as I was concerned, giving birth couldn't come
too soon. But I felt so guilty, I wore my guilt like a weight around my
chest. I felt guilty because I was going to have my baby without my
husband having the joy of being there. You know those commercials where
they say that depression physically hurts? It does. I walked around
feeling like a ton sat on my chest. Whenever I thought about Greg I ached.
The only way I could avoid aching was to think about anything but my
husband and frankly, that was all I thought about. I thought about how
stupid I had been to give up everything for a piece of sh!t like Robert
Jakes. I only hoped that Greg could forgive me, that he would move on and
be happy. Knowing Greg, he'd rather call me a moron and figure some way to
make me suffer than be happy. Well, he didn't have to figure a way. I was
already suffering.

On May 31st, I got sick, really sick. It hit me quickly. One minute I'm
washing dishes, the next I'm vomiting until I was blue and then my gut
informed me it was its turn. It was tourista, Montezuma's Revenge, the
Hershey Squirts, whatever childish word you can think of for
gastroenteritis. I had managed to avoid it for four months but when it hit
I was just shy of being thirty eight weeks pregnant. I didn't know what
end to aim at the toilet and within three hours I was crawling on the
floor, too weak to get up. I tried to get to the bed but I passed out,
extremely dehydrated, especially for a pregnant woman. I had been there
for a day when Dorothea found me.

"Reagan, what are you doing on the floor? Oh sweetie, you are hot, very
hot. I need to get you in bed. You need water?"

"Dorothea, what's happening?" I asked as I came to.

"You're sick, there's vomit everywhere. I need to get you cleaned up and
then get Dr. Barbarosa over here."

I went to sleep but woke up in the hospital with a saline and antibiotic
drip in my left arm. The doctors were trying to find a fetal heartbeat and
looking worried. I was so frightened. This was my punishment for Robert
Jakes, a life for a life.

Chapter 19

Easy to Leave

Greg House had learned how to live without love in his life. He was busy
with patients and making Cuddy's life pure hell. In the last few months
Wilson had witnessed the resurrection of his friend from the ashes, but
Wilson was suspicious. To the outside world, House seemed to be House
again. It had been a year since Reagan had left Princeton and he had not
heard from her since that phone call from Washington D.C. saying that the
car was in the Amtrak garage.

"It's damn cold out there." Wilson said as he entered House's apartment.
House was nursing a beer. He'd been waiting for an hour, watching the
wrestling match on the television. 

"Do you want a beer before we go?"

"No, I'm already late picking you up, let's go."

House turned off the television and grabbed his cane. He got up, put on
his coat and hat and turned out some of the lights, leaving just the
kitchen light on.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Wilson asked in earnest.

"Oohhh, do you think I'm going to have a mental breakdown in the middle of
it and start throwing things? That maybe I'll drown the baby in my
despair? Come on."

When they arrived people lowered their voices and didn't look House in the
eye. Wilson saw Cuddy and he made his way through to her. House hung up
his coat and went up to join Cuddy and Wilson. House was talking to Cuddy
when Cameron and Chase approached him.

"Thanks House, we really appreciate you doing this." Chase said as he
patted House's arm.

House looked into his face, "You do know that this will trigger the
Apocalypse? Anyone who asks me to be the Godfather of their child needs a
psych exam."

"Well, Allison and I talked it over and we agreed. You've done a lot for
us in your strange, House-way. And you're the closest thing I have to a
relative in this world so, what the hell."

House joined Chase and Cameron at the baptismal fountain along with
Cameron's cousin, Catherine. Catherine was going to be Charles's
godmother. Catherine held the baby as House stood next to her. As the baby
was being baptized by the priest, both House and Catherine had to swear
that they would ensure that the child would be brought up as a Catholic.
House had no problem swearing that Charlie would be a Catholic, just as
long as he didn't have to swear he was a Christian or a Catholic. 

The baptism itself had been controversial and the controversy had spilled
over into the department. Cameron had been dead set against baptizing
Charles, but House had actually sided with Chase, in a way. 

"Cameron, you don't believe that there is a God, so how can having the
baby be baptized a Catholic mean anything to you one way or another? It
means something to Chase, so why do you care if your child is dunked in a
bowl of water with a bunch of mumbo jumbo spoken over him? It means
something to the man you love, isn't that enough?"

Coming from House, who had lost it all, his wife, his child, his
happiness, Cameron felt sheepish. What did it matter? Chase had said that
he would be happy just to have the baby baptized for now. Whether the baby
would continue to be raised a Catholic and how that would be defined, they
would decide as he grew up. Cameron winced, House was right again.

Once Cameron had let go of her infatuation with House, she realized that
Chase had always been there for her. Chase had started dating another
woman but Cameron managed to torpedo that relationship with one simple
statement, "I made a mistake when I broke up with you." Three months later
they were married in a small ceremony and eight months after the wedding,
Charles had arrived.

House watched Charles, all pink and crinkled. He was dressed in a long
white christening gown and was not happy that the priest was pouring water
on his head. House smiled, the kid was wailing. Chase took the baby and
calmed him down. The priest continued and within half an hour they were at
the reception. 

House wondered what his child looked like and whether the baby was
healthy. It tortured him to know that the baby was out there, somewhere,
without him. Sometimes he was so angry at Reagan for her stupidity that he
didn't think he could ever forgive her. But every so often Mike would show
up at House's door, have a beer and show House photos of blonde, white
women living in Mexico. A couple of them had babies, some didn't. Whenever
Mike showed up House immediately felt hopeful. Whenever Mike left, House
plummeted like a boulder over a cliff. He had thought seriously about
shutting off the money tap, telling Mike to stop looking. He had already
spent over $50,000 on the investigation and there had been no joy. House
couldn't believe that anyone could disappear just like that, but she had.

"Greg, I've gotta ask. We know she's in Mexico. We know she's not on the
East coast of Mexico. I can name several towns and cities that she's not
in, but that just means we have dozens to go. We know she'll stick to a
town because she's not geared for the countryside, especially the
countryside of a foreign country. But Greg, I feel guilty that we haven't
gotten any closer. She's proven to be a formidable fugitive. If she had
really been on the lam, I pity the detective trying to find her. The
question is, when do we stop the hemorrhaging?"

House looked at him and said nothing at first. He rubbed his forehead and
looked as if he was in pain. He was. He nodded, he knew it was time to
stop searching. He knew it was time to file for the divorce, he knew it
was time to let go of her. But how could he let go of his child?

"Let's cut back. Instead of an actual search, send her photo to all the
Mexican Investigators you know, tell them we'll pay for any leads. In the
meantime, you can pull off the guys who are actively looking for her."

"Have you considered that maybe ...maybe something happened to them? Maybe
something happened during labor?"

"Boy, you're just full of pleasant thoughts tonight. Let me deal with one
disappointment at a time. You can bring up their untimely deaths next time
you come over." House said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ...well you know."

"Yeah, I know."

The next morning House woke up and his leg was not just aching, but
throbbing too. House popped two Vicodin and got up. By the time he got to
work the pain was back to just a normal ache but he felt slow, unfocused.
He didn't want to be at work and he didn't want to be at home. He didn't
want to be conscious. He wanted to be floating somewhere, anywhere.

He sat down at his desk and looked at the photo of Reagan and him in
Vegas. He picked the photo up and threw it into his bottom desk drawer. He
straightened up and saw Wilson come through the door. 

"Hey, I was thinking you might like to go to the new Tarantino movie? It
opens tonight."

Wilson stopped, saw that he was particularly somber and noticed right away
that the photo was gone. This was big. "What happened to the wedding photo
on the desk?"'

"She' gone. I have to make room for the next photo, for the next woman to
leave me."

"House, you know she didn't leave you. You know she loves you
desperately."

"Yeah, she loves me so much that she hasn't even tried to contact me and
let me know if I have a son or daughter." House switched on his computer.
"Face it Wilson, I may not be the easiest man to fall in love with, but I
am the easiest to leave."

Chapter 20 Run For the Border

"She thinks she's protecting you and the baby."

"Right." He turned back to the monitor and clicked on his email. A photo
popped up immediately. It was a photo of a freckled and very blonde Reagan
with a blue eyed laughing baby trying to stand up in her lap. Reagan had
the baby's arms outstretched and over his head to help him stand. House
jumped back out of his chair screaming, "AHHHHGGG." He took several steps
back, staring at the photo with such a pained look Wilson was worried he
was going to collapse. 

Wilson took a step around the desk to see what he was looking at and had
to stifle his own scream of surprise. "Where did that come from?"

"I hit the email and it popped up."

"They look healthy." Wilson leaned in and looked carefully, "You
apparently have a son. He's beautiful, gorgeous...look at those eyes."

House pulled the chair back and sat down, looking at the photo without
expression, without saying anything. He looked numb to Wilson.

Cameron came in and saw House staring at the computer, apparently zoned
out, expressionless, "Are you okay?"

Wilson shook his head to indicate to Cameron to let it go. Instead she
looked at the screen, "Oh my God. When did she send that? The baby is
adorable. What's his name?"

"We don't know; we don't know who sent it or why. House needs a moment,
would you mind stepping out Cameron?"

Cameron left. House started dialing the phone. 

"Who are you calling?" Wilson asked.

"When she left she wanted to leave me a phone message. She didn't want to
talk to me so instead of calling me at home, she left a message at work.
I'm calling my voice mail at home, just in case."

He went through the messages, one from his dentist, one from Wilson and
then the voice. She sounded tentative, concerned, worried, "I sent you an
email with a picture of Gregory. He was born June 1st. He's gorgeous,
sweet and happy. I didn't know if I should send it, if it would make
things worse...but I figure you can delete it if you want. I just wanted
you to know that we're okay." Her voice started to tremble, "And I'm so
sorry. There isn't a day that I don't wish I could go back and live that
day over; do things differently. I hope you're sleeping through the
night." Her voice went really soft, "Find someone who can give you those
hugs and kisses you never would admit that you loved so much." And then
she was gone.

Wilson could see from the pain in his friend's face that he had been
right; that there was a message from Reagan. "What did she say?" House hit
the repeat button and let him listen. 

House closed his eyes and then looked again at the photo. He saved the
photo to one file. He cropped the photo and saved the cropped image to a
separate file. He had cropped out Reagan and just kept the baby. He
printed it out and taped it to the wall behind his computer. He wanted to
memorize his face.

That afternoon he called Mike. Mike brought in a forensic computer expert
to try and locate the origin of the email. There wasn't much to get off of
the phone message, there was no way to trace it. The noises in the
background didn't sound any different than the noises he heard sitting in
his apartment.

House was both excited and desperate. The fact that he had a son, they
were healthy and happy, meant a lot. Some of his worry had dissipated, but
now he felt like he was back to square one, back to the feelings he had
when she had bolted. The only thing he could do was to numb it with
whiskey, his piano, and his Vicodin. 

He laid down on his couch fingering the photo he had printed after he had
stopped and bought some photo paper. She must be somewhere sunny, her face
was so freckled and her hair so light, bleached by the sun. The bulk of
her hair was in two braided pig tails that just barely hung over her
shoulder. She wasn't wearing makeup and she was dressed in a peasant's top
with a little string gathering the blouse around her shoulder. 

The baby looks nothing like her. His hair is too brown, not blonde like
hers. He's so cute, that laugh takes up his whole face. He looks so damn
funny with just those two teeth showing. His cheeks are round and pink,
healthy. He has, what was it my Mom said? A cupid's bow for a mouth, just
like me. God, those are my eyes, blue, large and, of course, intelligent.
Gregory is sure trying hard to stand in his mother's lap. I wish I could
see his feet, they were cut off at the bottom. I guess the photographer
was trying to get close enough to capture their faces more than their
bodies. Gregory. Not very imaginative. I didn't want him named after me
and she knew it. Well, she got her way, as usual.

House and Wilson were just about ready to go to the play when the phone
rang in House's apartment. "Hello?"

"Greg, it's Mike. We've got something."

"What?"

"Dublin, California. The email came from Dublin."

Then it hit him, Sadie. She was in communication with Sadie. "From the
Federal Prison?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"She has a friend in prison, Sadie Thompson, the famous madam."

"I'll get someone on it."

"No, I need to talk to her. She won't talk or believe you. I can get her
to believe and talk to me." **** House flew to Oakland and drove a rental
car to Dublin. Reagan had been right, there was minimum security and it
looked more like a campus with dormitories than a prison. House waited for
Sadie in the waiting room. He was surprised when she walked in. She was
dressed in khakis with her shirt buttoned to the top. She was probably 40
and very beautiful, even without makeup and fancy clothes. Without even
trying she walked towards him with a panther-like grace.

"Dr. House, I'd recognize you anywhere. Those eyes are as beautiful as in
the photos. How can I help you?"

"Thank you for meeting with me. I've had a rough year or so. Reagan thinks
she's on the lam, running from authorities, but she isn't. She thought she
killed Robert Jakes by stopping his medicine and turning off the medical
equipment. But the equipment and drugs she disconnected were for
palliative care only. Jakes was dying from liver failure, there was
nothing more the doctors could do. Even if the measures weren't just
palliative, I saw her come out of the patient's room and went in to see
why she had been in there. I saw what she had done and started it all back
up within minutes. She didn't kill him, there are no charges, never will
be. You can convince her, she'll believe you. Do a web search for Robert
Jakes, you won't see any mention of suspicious death or suspected foul
play. The guy died naturally. 

She ran for no reason and I've spent $50,000 trying to find her and the
baby. I know she sent you the photo and asked you to send it to me two
days ago. Please, please, I can't live like this. I worry about her every
day. If she won't come home and live in Princeton, I'll go anywhere she
wants and live there. I just need to know where she is. She needs to know
that she and my son can come home."

Sadie listened, not without sympathy. She saw a man who had lived hard and
appeared to be in pain. He wasn't easy on himself or the world. But he was
desperate. He clearly loved Reagan and his son and wanted them home. If he
was right, then Reagan had made a horrible mistake and had dragged this
poor man into a nightmare that probably seemed to him to never end. Sadie
was a good judge of character and this man wasn't lying. Reagan had
screwed up.

"Dr. House, I'll tell you everything I know. She called me from San
Antonio and told me what she had thought she had done. It was all said in
code because our conversations are taped, but I knew she had killed the
man who had framed her, or so she thought. She had hopped freights from
Washington D.C. Imagine a pregnant woman hopping freights in the middle of
winter," she stopped and shook her head. "She told me she was going to go
somewhere warm that she had been to when she was in college. She never
told me the actual city but I know from our previous discussions that she
has been to Acapulco, Puerto Vallarta and Manzanillo. I'd start with them.
She sent me the photo by email just asking me to send the photo only at a
specific date and time. The email address I recognized as a relay address,
it's not hers. She sent me a letter using a relay mail station in Mexico
somewhere, no return address. I threw the envelope away. You can have it,
I don't know if your investigator can get anything from it. I do know she
loves you. I know she was happy when you two were married in Vegas. I know
you're a lucky man, she's an incredible human being and I love her like a
sister. I hope you find her and bring her home. I get out in two months.
Give me your telephone number and I'll contact you if I hear anything.
Little Greg is gorgeous isn't he?"

House smiled sadly, "He looks like I did as a baby."

"Well big Greg is gorgeous too," she winked.

House actually blushed. "Are you flirting with me? You know I'm a married
man and my wife is the jealous type."

She just laughed and handed him the letter. "Good luck Greg, tell her to
come see me when she comes home."

"Thanks Sadie, I will."

House took the letter and went outside to the parking lot, got into the
rental car and read it,

Dear Sadie, 

I screwed up royally, didn't I? I can't believe what I've done. Worst of
all, I have hurt my husband deeply and may never get the chance to make it
right for him. I told him to divorce me so he can move on, but how can he
move on when I'm sitting here nursing his son? The son he hasn't met. My
husband can be an ass but he's surprisingly committed to the people he
loves and I know he loves me and he wanted to be a father. I've taken that
away from him and every time I look at Gregory my heart aches. Greg
probably hates me and I wouldn't blame him one bit if he never forgives
me.

I live in a cute little house, not fancy, but enough for Gregory (the
neighbors call him Gregorio and I call him Greggy) and me. I had to make a
living and I couldn't find a job. I was getting desperate, running out of
money fast and about to be evicted. It was so bad I was using regular
diapers because I couldn't afford disposable ones. My neighbors were kind
and watched Gregorio while I went to look for a job. They tend to dote on
him because of his blue eyes, they're just like his father's. I wasn't
eating much, I was so stressed and so my milk slowed and I was having a
hard time nursing. Greggy was having a hard time getting full. I was ready
to do whatever it took to make money so that I wouldn't be so stressed and
my son could eat.

I went down to the tourist area. There is a brothel for the high ranking
Mexican officials and Mexican tourists down by the ocean. I met with the
manager, but he didn't think I had enough meat on my bones for his Mexican
clientele. I told him I wasn't looking to be a prostitute but could help
him with his paperwork. He didn't need clerical help but he did need a
waitress and cleaner and I got the job. It's perfect. I work from 7:00 pm
to 3 am, Monday through Saturday. On Sunday it's closed but I go in and
wash the patio floors in the afternoon for extra money. I don't get much
sleep but it lets me be with Gregorio while he is awake. Gregorio can walk
now and he babbles. Occasionally he says Mama, agua, leche, banana and
several other words. I speak English to him but, of course, Spanish is his
first language.

I am going to send you a photo by email with instructions on what to do
with it. In the meantime, I know you're getting out of jail soon so
congratulations! I'll try you at your yahoo address next time. 

Lots of Love, Reagan

House was glad to hear that she wasn't a hooker. But it was good to know
that she was working at a brothel in either Manzanillo, Puerto Vallarta or
Alcapulco. That should help Mike narrow things down considerably. House
was feeling optimistic for the first time in over a year.

 ******* Mike went to work on the new information. He hired an
investigator in each city. Late one gorgeous Saturday in May, House was
lamenting the fact that he was indoors working with the team on a patient.
He had just stopped whining when Mike stuck his face into the office. He
had a brown envelope and he was smiling. 

"Dr. House, when you have a minute I need to talk to you. We've found
her."

The team all jumped up, looked at House then looked at Mike and then back
to House. House looked at them, "Well, scoot, you guys all have tests to
run now."

"But we want to know where she is." Chase said.

"It's none of your bloody business."

"She's our friend too." Foreman said. "This patient is stable, come on
House. Don't be a jerk."

House smirked and then nodded for Mike to come in. He handed House an
envelope. "Take a look."

House opened the envelope and there were four photographs. The very first
one almost made his knees buckle. It showed Reagan in a peasant blouse and
a skirt down on her knees with a scrub brush in one hand. It was taken
from her profile and she's laughing, with her arms outstretched to a
little toddler, about six feet away, who's trying to balance himself with
his arms up in the air and a big laughing grin on his little face. He's
obviously trying to run to her. 

House handed the photo to Foreman who shared it with the other two.
Cameron spoke up, "Oh, that's so sweet. He's so cute. They look so happy
and normal. It's just a photo of a Mom playing with her baby."

The second photo, taken just moments later, showed Reagan sitting on the
floor with the baby in her lap, both of them looking at a set of keys that
the baby was trying to put into his mouth. The next one showed her walking
through the market with the baby on her hip. The last one was a shot from
behind her with the baby's head peering over her shoulder at the camera.
The shot was a tight one on the baby and there was no mistaking those blue
eyes.

As House went through them he let out a little chuckle, enjoying not only
the fact that they looked healthy but that they had found them. He handed
the rest of them to Foreman and then looked at Mike, "Where are they?"

"Puerto Vallarta."

"Tell the guy to back off, give me the information but I don't want her
scared away."

"Gotcha."

Everyone was shocked to see House actually give Mike a strong handshake
and pat on the shoulder in thanks. He turned to the team. "You guys are
going to have to figure this one out. I'm going to Puerto Vallarta to get
my son...and wife."

They looked at each other and shrugged. He assured them that he would
carry his cell phone but this patient wasn't dying, just in a lot of pain.
So he grabbed his things and went next door to Wilson's office. He threw
the photos on the desk and Wilson jumped up when he saw the first one.

"Where?"

"Puerto Vallarta."

"She looks gorgeous as usual and the kid isn't half bad either."

"I'm on my way to Mexico, can you babysit?"

"Sure. Good luck. Give her my love."

House nodded and then went to see Cuddy who was more than happy to give
him the time off. House got on his motorcycle and went home excited and
anxious. He booked a round trip first class ticket to Puerto Vallarta and
a single first class ticket back.

The plane left at 7:05 p.m. and arrived around 1:00 am. Once he got
through customs and checked into Hacienda San Miguel, a very special hotel
sitting above the city in the hills. He was given the keys to his room,
the San Miguel Suite. He entered the room, tipped the bellboy and looked
around. The suite had a king size bed and panoramic views of the town and
bay. He opened the large folding french doors to the patio where there was
a sitting area just outside the bedroom with its own jacuzz. It was a
beautiful room. He turned, went back inside and noticed that above the bed
was a 1920s copy of the famous Monja Coronada from the main cathedral in
Guadalajara. But House was too excited to stay still. She would be home by
now, wherever home was. The investigator said that occasionally on Sundays
she would wash the floors in the brothel. She would get there around 1 pm
and leave around 3 pm. He had the address in his wallet. 

He tried laying down and watching satellite television, but he couldn't
concentrate. He thought maybe he should have some whiskey but he didn't
want to be hung over. He finally decided to go downstairs where he found a
piano. He played until he was sleepy and then at 5:00 am he went up to bed
with a wakeup call at 11:30 am.

The phone woke him and he thanked the operator for the wake-up call. He
showered and changed into some walking shorts and a bright tropical shirt
with a t-shirt underneath. He grabbed his sunglasses and ballcap and
started out the door.

 ******

Downstairs, House found a cab and gave the driver the address,
"Veinte-ocho Calle de la Revolucion." The driver recognized the address of
the brothel.

The driver looked back at House in the rear view mirror. "Mister? You do
know it is closed on Sundays? If you still need the company of a woman I
could give you a phone number."

"No thank you. I'm meeting my wife there."

This confused the driver but he simply shrugged and kept driving. After
tipping the man, House got out of the cab and looked at the club that was
three stories. On Revolucion you entered from street level onto the second
floor. The street slopped downwards in the back where the patios were. The
club appeared dark but House went around to the back, to where the main,
second story patio overlooked the ocean. The tables and chairs on the
patio had been cleared off to the side and there was a bucket of water, a
sponge and a mop. His heart started beating wildly. She had to be here. He
looked around but didn't see her. He put his nose up against the window
panes but didn't see anyone inside, just more tables and chairs around a
dance floor and a small stage with a piano.

But then he heard a voice from the steps leading up to the patio from what
must be the lower patio, "Wait for Mommy." There was a pause and then an
even more frantic, "Greggy, I told you to wait for me!"

He watched as a little head and body appeared at the top of the stairs. He
realized now why everyone commented on his blue eyes. His son's eyes were
mesmerizing. Balancing on his cane, he knelt down and put his arms out for
his son. Without hesitation, he ran towards House laughing and smiling.
"Damn, boy, you're trusting. Just be careful when you're in college and I
ask to borrow your girlfriend." His little body careened into House,
sending House over onto his butt and laughing. The toddler jumped onto his
father, knee firmly in his groin, "Ahhhg. Greg...that hurt."

House looked up and saw her climbing quickly, searching for her errant
child. Her mouth dropped as she saw her son tackling her husband. Her feet
hit the patio at the top of the stairs just as House managed to kneel
again, but not for long. She tackled him too, knocking him and her son
back into a heap. She was smothering House with kisses and hugs as House
tried to look at her but all he could see were lips coming at his eyes,
nose, lips, cheeks. He started giggling as his son tried to copy his
mother and started kissing him on the right side of his face.

"Okay, okay, I get it, you want me to leave."

She had the biggest smile on her face. She looked at Greggy and pointed at
House, "Greggy, this is Daddy!" She pointed down at House who now lay
prostrate on the patio tile, "Daddy, Padre, Papa! Daddy!"

The little boy squealed, "Papa."

"Daddy." He picked him up and held him suspended over his chest. "I prefer
Daddy."

"Oh, God. Does this mean that the police know where I am?"

"They don't care where you are, they never have. You're not wanted for
anything. Robert Jakes died of liver failure, you had nothing to do with
it." He was trying to sit up. Once he was sitting and stable he grabbed
the baby. He held him steady while he looked him over, like a valuable
trophy. He turned to her, gave her a stern stare, "You screwed up, you
made a mess of it all. What the hell were you thinking?"

She couldn't meet his eyes, she looked down guiltily, "You're telling me
that he died that afternoon, but I had nothing to do with it? But I turned
off his respirator, I stopped his medicine."

"You're not a doctor, you're an idiot. If you want to kill someone, stick
to something you know like shanks or guns. The medicine and ventilator
were just making him comfortable, he was dying anyway. Besides, I saw you
playing Florence Nightingale and so I went into his room after you left,
hooked him back up, started his medicine and left. He hadn't been off of
anything long enough for you to kill him."

"Oh God, he won. He took another eighteen months from me. He took away the
joy of having you with me when our son was born. He keeps taking my life
away."

"No, he didn't do that. YOU DID." There was no way he was going to let her
off the hook. She had made him miserable over the last eighteen months and
he was going to make sure that she learned her lesson. He turned back to
his son who was staring at him, trying to grab his nose. "Hey dude, I need
that nose." He buried his face against the toddler's cheek and neck, then
blew into it creating a farting noise that cause the baby to giggle and
squeal again.

House handed the baby to her so that he could get up. He pulled himself up
and she stood up with him. The baby stood next to his mother and looked at
the cane with curiosity. House looked at Reagan who was teary and sad. He
had taken her from sheer happiness to pure hell in less than five minutes.
Now he felt guilty. He had looked forward to this moment for so long and
he had done what he does best, screwed it up.

He grabbed her in his arms and kissed her. He kissed her sweetly, the kiss
of a husband who loves his wife dearly. He wanted her to know that he did
forgive her, that he loved her and was happy to have his family back. "I
can't believe I found you. I've been looking for you for so long. I
thought this day would never come." He touched her cheek, "Let's get out
of here."

"I have to clean this floor before I go. I promised Juan. He's been very
good to me, I don't want to leave him with a job undone."

"Oh, come on Reagan, a dirty floor for one day won't cause any..." he
stopped short. He knew it was useless from the look on her face. "Okay,
I'll sit here and get to know my son."

House sat down and watched as she mopped the floor and occasionally got
down on her knees on the saltillo tile and scrubbed hard until some mess
finally came up. When she stood up he could see her knees were scraped and
calloused from the months of hard cleaning. Her hands were calloused and
cracked from the detergents she used. He thought of her working on her
knees to make ends meet and he felt relieved that he could take her home. 

House watched Greggy crawl on his mother's back, trying to get her to play
horsey. House pulled him off and tossed him in the air to Greggy's
delight. He asked Reagan, "Is there an ice cream shop nearby?"

She stopped, tucked a loose strand of hair back over her ear and said,
"Down the street about two blocks going south. You better take a towel to
tuck in his shirt if you're going to give that monster ice cream.
Otherwise, it will be all over him." She walked over to her stack of
cleaning things and threw House a clean dishtowel.

He nodded and they took off down the street, hand in hand. Greggy was as
slow as his father because he loved to watch everyone and everything.
House was surprised when a man stopped them on the street, "Who are you?"

"None of your business."

"Yes it is. I'm Officer Melendez. It's my day off but you've got Gregorio
and I don't see his mother. Who are you?"

"Look at the kid's eyes. Look at mine. Who do you think I am?" House
picked Greggy up in his arms and gave the cop a silly smile. 

There was no mistaking that their eyes were the same. "Are you Gregorio's
father?"

"Yes." House realized that no one knew Reagan was married. "Reagan is my
wife. I've come to collect them. It's time for them to come home."

Now the cop was suspicious again. Why would Reagan not tell them about a
husband unless she was running from him. He was probably abusive. "Does
Reagan want to go home with you? Does she know you have Gregorio?"

"Yes she wants to go home." It dawned on House what he must be thinking.
"She didn't leave because of me. She left because of other problems. Look,
she's back at the club down there cleaning the patio, go ask her."

The cop let him go but House knew that he was going to go straight to
Reagan. He was obviously single and must have had a crush on Reagan. House
had to pick up Greggy because he was starting to pull away and wanted to
run on the busy street. Luckily, House was only a few doors from the ice
cream parlor. They went inside and everyone turned to look at them. 

The lady behind the counter searched House's face. She came around from
behind the counter, bent down and smiled and said in Spanish, "Gregorio,
where is your mother and who is this?"

House was getting frustrated. He gave an adolescent look of frustration
and said in Spanish, "I am Gregorio's father. I am Reagan's husband. I
love my wife and son. I am not beating them. I came to take them home. Now
can I have some ice cream?"

House took the little ice cream dish and fed his son the ice cream and
laughed at how much Greggy was enjoying it. As soon as one spoon was gone,
Greggy was opening his mouth for the next.

After they were done, House took his son to a toy shop and they bought a
plastic truck for him to play with. When they got back to the club Reagan
was almost done. She looked at the truck and smiled. "Oh, Daddy's spoiling
you already!" She turned to House, "Want a beer?" 

"Sure." 

She went inside, got him a beer and grabbed herself a water.

"I was stopped by the entire city of Puerto Vallarta asking me if I was an
evil pervert come to take your child off to molest him. I said yes."

"I know, Officer Melendez and Lydia both stopped by and asked me what you
were doing with my son. I've always felt safe here. Officer Melendez
sometimes gives me a ride home when I get off at 3:00 am. He doesn't like
me walking home that late without an escort."

"He's got the hots for you."

"Yeah, I know." Reagan smiled at him and wiggled her hips.

She finished up and left Juan a note, telling him that she was leaving.
She grabbed her stuff from the back, stuffed it in a plastic bag and
joined House and Greggy. "Well, shall we go back to the house so I can get
Mr. Nuisance changed and cleaned up?"

"Great."

"Uh, it's two miles from here and I don't have money for a taxi. We
usually walk."

"Mi dinero es tu dinero. Let's grab a taxi."

They sat in the back, House with his arm around Reagan, Greggy still
jumping up and down, climbing on everything. "He's a handful. Have you
thought about drugs?"

"Yeah, I was thinking on starting him on Vicodin. Got any?"

House smiled. There was so much he wanted to know and share with her. He
realized that for the first time in over a year he didn't feel anxious or
worried. That gripping feeling around his heart was gone and his leg was
better. He looked at Reagan and kissed her cheek.

"You're in for a treat." she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"What?"

"Well, he normally takes his nap around 2:00 pm, but on Sundays, he takes
it a little late and so he sleeps a little longer because he's tired.
He'll sleep about an hour, maybe hour and a half."

"Houston, we have lift off." House already felt something inside him
stirring and stiffening. He had to think of something different. He looked
at the scenery. "Did you like living down here?"

"I love it. It feels like home to me. The people have been so generous and
helpful. I don't know if I could have made it without my neighbors. It
would have been nicer if I had more money. I seemed to do nothing but
work."

"Why didn't you take more money out of the ATM when you ran?"

"I figured if I took just a $1,000 it would send you a message that I
wasn't trying to rip you off."

"Rip your husband off? We were married, the money was yours moron."

"We'd only been married four months, I felt strange about taking it."

They drove out to a neighborhood that had homes facing small streets and
alleyways. He did notice there were lots of Pepper trees, Podocarpus and
Jacaranda, adding a sense of age and permanency to the neighborhood. The
people here were poor but took pride in their homes. They got out of the
taxi at the intersection of a street and a small alleyway. He walked with
her down the gravel alleyway and then into a courtyard with four little
homes surrounding it. She opened the one on the east side and stepped
inside. House and Greggy followed.

House was shocked. His wife and son had been living in a room no bigger
than 12 x 15, complete with a little kitchenette. The floors were covered
with a worn black and white linoleum. The bathroom was just a little bit
bigger than one you'd find in a trailer. There was one window on the east
wall and a small one over the kitchen sink. The house was clean but that
was mostly because there were very few clothes and even less toys. It was
a stark contrast to what his son would have in the United States. 

He watched as Reagan wrestled with their son to get him cleaned up. She
was going to put him down in the crib in the corner but he kept grasping
at her breast and was starting to get cranky and whinny. 

"Okay, okay."

She pulled the string on top of the peasant blouse and it loosened. She
pulled it down over the left breast and held him so that he could nurse.
House sat at the table watching her and thinking of all the months he had
missed when he could have been with them. 

"So you're still nursing him?"

"They recommended nursing until two. Do you think that's too long?"

"Right now, seeing your breast, nothing seems wrong at all. I could care
less. Well, if he's still suckling at thirty I might have a problem."

"So will I. He's already trying his teeth out on occasion."

Greggy started to fall asleep. She quickly changed breasts so he could
drain it a little. He sucked a few minutes and then was out like a light.
She took him over and put him in his crib. She looked down at him and then
over at House, "He's beautiful, isn't he?"

He chuckled, "Mothers."

"I need a shower badly, I've been sweating."

"Oh, that's an aphrodisiac. Sweating? Let me lick a little off of you,
come here."

She went over and he patted his good leg. She sat down and put her arms
around his neck. The string to her blouse was still lose, revealing her
cleavage. He pulled one side of the blouse off the shoulder and exposed
her breast. He kissed and licked it, "God, you are salty, tasty. No
showers yet, you smell like a mixture of woman and ammonia. It's a real
turn on. Let's go over to that bed."

She went over to the bed and took the top off completely. House pushed her
down on the bed and continued to kiss her breasts and fondle them. He
looked at them; how different they were now. Still round and pert, but
fuller on the bottom, larger and the areolas were larger, the nipples firm
and tough. They were beautiful, womanly.

He played with them, first with his fingers pinching the gently and then
with his tongue circling them. He finally began sucking them and was
surprised that there was still a little milk left. It was strangely sweet.
He went back to licking them and then raised up to her lips. She started
to take his pants off.

"You take your skirt off, I'll take care of my pants." He said to her.

She stood up and so did he. They both dropped their pants. House revealed
the stiffest hard on she had ever encountered. "Wow. Are you just happy to
see me?" She pulled back the cover on the bed and climbed on top of the
sheets. "F3ck me Greg."

"Christ, don't say things like that. I'll lose it right here. I'm just
barely hanging on." 

She pulled down her panties and when he saw the patch of light pubic hair
that was it. "Oh God, open your legs, quick."

He was coming without even entering her. When he got inside he cried out,
"Ahhh, Oh God, Ahhhhhhhhh." It was so quick that when he was done she got
the giggles. 

"What are you laughing at? Can't you see I'm humiliated here?"

"I just realized that you've been faithful to me and I can't believe it."

"No one would have me."

"Pam would have sent someone who would have had you."

"Jesus Reagan, I'm married. Did you think I'd just give up on you, the
baby and go out screwing anything that moved?"

"No, but it was a really long time to stay celibate."

"Oh, I had Rosie Palm and that little video of you masturbating."

"That's right! I forgot to erase that at work. I'm guessing it's all over
the internet by now."

He laughed and grabbed her. House French kissed her and continued to touch
every inch of her body, looking at the changes brought on by giving birth.
Her pelvic bones were wider apart, her hips rounder, her abdomen not as
flat. She wasn't as tight, but still tighter than most. She was softer.
Her body was more comforting, welcoming. He liked the changes.

"You're beautiful. I missed you."

"Missed me or my yoo-hoo?"

"Is there a difference?" He said. batting his eyes.

They laid in each other's arms and talked for a few minutes about her
great escape. Catching the freight train, crossing the border, her new
job. He looked at her hands, all chapped, cracked and calloused and
winced. They represented all her efforts to keep her son safe and he
wanted to slap her upside her head for doing this to herself. Still, there
was something so brutally honest and loving in the condition of those
hands that he was moved.

She got up and brought a glass of water to the bed. "Let me have some," he
said.

"No. I'm used to the water here but you aren't. You'll get really sick.
I'll get you a coke."

She got up and got him a coke and he had a sip, laid back down with his
hands under his head and was staring up at the cracked ceiling. She ran
her hand down his chest; feeling the familiar hair and skin. She smiled
and kept going, down the side of his thigh into his groin. She played
gently with his balls. He closed his eyes. She reached down and took his
penis in her hand and gently began to lick it, over and over. Then she
sucked and sucked until he was hard again. She didn't want him coming too
soon so she switched to her hand, gently tugging up and down to keep him
interested but not enough for him to come. He turned to her and she pushed
him back down. She straddled him and then guided him inside of her. He
watched all of this, getting harder as he saw her ride up and down for her
own pleasure. He reached down and started playing with her little
cl!toris, rubbing it in rhythm with her up and down motion. 

He could see his penis disappear inside of her each time she came down. He
looked up and saw her eyes closed as she concentrated, her breasts
bouncing up and down. She soon fell over him, her breasts dangling above
his chest. He began speeding up the stroking of her cl!t. She was
breathing hard, quickly. He kept wanting to grab her breasts as they
dangled and danced over him. She caught her breath and whispered, "Oh God,
yeah, yeah...Fuck, oh ...oh Greg. OH, OOOHH.. more, more. Yes, that's it.
Ohhh. God." The contractions were coming fast and hard. Her vagina was
clamping down over and over. Just as the last waves crashed through her he
started to come, thrusting hard and quick into her, faster and faster. He
swallowed a couple of times and realized that he was having a hard time
focusing. Everything was blurry and the only thing his body could
concentrate on was his penis inside of her. He could feel the release of
the ejaculation each time he gave a short thrust. He was done, he was
tired. She pulled off of him and grabbed a Kleenex as the semen dripped
onto his abdomen. She mopped him up and threw the Kleenex over near the
trash can. She rolled over to hug and hold him. He smiled and held her to
him. They fell asleep. 

Later on as he drifted in and out of sleep, he heard something. House
opened his eyes and saw two blue eyes staring back from the other side of
the room. He looked at his wife, her nude body curled in his and knew that
he was going to have to wake her if he got up to get Greggy. He tried to
untangle himself but he was right, she opened her eyes. "What's wrong?"
she asked.

"We're being watched. Do you think seeing his parents in a post-coital
sleep will scar him for the rest of his life?"

"I don't know. Did you do something to me while I was asleep?"

"I don't think so."

"Then all he knows is that his parents shucked their clothes to cool down.
He sees me nude all the time." Reagan shrugged when House wiggled his
eyebrows, "Hard not to in a small room like this. He hasn't complained
yet. I figure when he runs screaming and yelling at me to put my clothes
back on that I'm safe. So now what?"

"We get our asses out of town. I have a hotel room. Let's pack your things
and get you over there."

"I don't have any luggage and it's Sunday evening. We won't be able to buy
a suitcase until tomorrow. Plus, I'm hungry."

"Okay, get dressed, we'll spend the night at the hotel, in the morning
we'll buy some luggage, come back over and pack. Our flight leaves at
7:00p.m."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow."

"Wow, what a difference a day makes-24 little hours." Reagan said to no
one. 

House diverted Greggy's attention while Reagan packed several plastic bags
full of things and his diaper bag to take back to the hotel. She looked
around, feeling a little sad about leaving and then closed the door. House
saw how attached she was to her little home and the people here and it
made him nervous.

The taxi driver looked over the seat at House for his directions.
"Hacienda San Miguel."

He sat back and looked at Reagan who was looking a little stunned. "What?"
he asked.

"Hacienda San Miguel? I filled in for Lucinda one day and cleaned some of
their rooms. My God! $600 a night for a room? I could have given my
neighbors that money and they would have..." She shut up. She realized
that before she had to scrub floors and work her fingers to the bone she
had no concept of what it meant to be really poor. Oh, she knew what it
felt like not to have a job, but she could have gone back to California
and lived with her Aunt if she had wanted. It was no use. House would
never change anyway.

"My money is being spent here. The owners pay cleaners, bell hops, night
clerks, chefs, maintenance men, gas, electric and stimulate the economy in
all kinds of way with my $600 a night. So chill."

They arrived and when she walked into the room she giggled. It was nice to
be staying somewhere with a nice bed. She looked at the bathroom, the room
and the veranda and figured it was twice the size of her house.

House went into the bathroom and she could hear the bath water running. He
came out, started to take off his shirt and was sitting in his t-shirt and
shorts. "I'm drawing you a bath. You go take one and relax until the food
gets here. I'll play with the 800 lb. Gorilla."

"A bath? Actually lay in a bath and soak?"

"I figure you deserve one. What do you want to eat?"

"A carne asada salad, fresh rolls, a glass of orange juice and anything
chocolate. Get some orange juice and bananas for the gorilla."

Soaking in the tub was glorious. She could hear squealing and growling
noises so she knew House was playing and tickling Greggy. She got up and
grabbed a towel when she heard the knock on the door. She really was
hungry.

They ate on the veranda and House seemed to enjoy feeding Greggy. The view
took in most of the shoreline and the tile roofs of the city. She could
see the bell towers of the Catholic Churches and she knew she would miss
it.

House saw her wistful look and felt nervous, "You do want to go home,
don't you?"

"Or course I do. But I wish I could stay too."

House nodded. "It's beautiful. I've always enjoyed Mexico. To think our
son is a wetback." He looked at her and his eyes widened. It just dawned
on him that his son did not have an American birth certificate and until
he was registered with the American Embassy and had papers, he could not
cross the border, at least by plane. "Christ! You didn't register him at
the embassy, did you? He doesn't have a passport."

She turned white, "No. I didn't want them to know where we were. Oh God
Greg, I'm sorry."

"You moron...we're going to have to register him tomorrow."

"But do you have our marriage certificate with you?"

"No. Oh God, that's right. We have to prove we're married and that he's my
son so we can take him out of the country. That's going to take weeks."

House was angry again. Reagan was suppose to have registered her son at
the American Embassy and get an American, "Certificate of Birth in Foreign
Country." She could register him with just her passport and his birth
certificate, but he couldn't leave the country until they could prove the
father was an American or that she had permission of the father for the
baby to leave. That was to prevent mothers from stealing their babies from
their Mexican fathers. House would have to have their marriage certificate
Fed Exed to them, but even then it would take a week or two to process the
paperwork.

"I'll have Wilson get the Marriage Certificate and send it to us.
Hopefully he can find it because I don't know how to contact the Clark
County registrar in Nevada from down here. We'll go register him and then
I'll go back to Princeton and once you have the documents, you and the
little wetback can fly home. I guess we better find you a hotel."

"The rent on my house is paid up for three weeks. Why do I need a hotel?"

"You're going to go back to that hovel?"

"Yes, we've been very happy in that hovel. In the meantime, you better buy
baby furniture for when I get home."

The next day they took the baby to the American Embassy, an unimpressive
white stucco office building. They had no problems registering Greggy.
However, for his American birth certficate to be issues they wanted their
marriage certificate. 

They went back to the hotel to put Greggy down for his nap. The phone
rang. House didn't want to pick it up but it had to be important or they
wouldn't be getting a call. It was Wilson, "Did you ...uhhh...find it?"
House picked up the sheet and gave Reagan a look of desperation. He
covered the receiver, "Go slow until I'm done here, please?" She smiled up
at him and then began licking the rim of his penis. He shuddered.

"I had a hard time finding it but I finally found that box. It's on its
way. But I'm calling on another problem. Your team is working on a
referral from the Emergency room and we're all baffled."

House was floating in and out of the conversation. He realized he could'nt
get head and give a consult at the same time. He made a decision. "I'll
call you back in five minutes." He hung up and laid back until there was a
very happy conclusion. Reagan got up and went into the bathroom, came back
with some toilet paper and then went back in to clean up. The baby was
asleep on the other side of the bed.

House called Wilson back. Things were looking grim for the patient. He
booked the earliest flight he could get, one for the following evening.
House was worried about Reagan. She really seemed attached to the town and
the people in Puerto Vallarta and he was afraid she wouldn't get on a
plane and come home. He knew he had to trust her, because he had no
choice. He was even more nervous when he discovered that Reagan had her
bank wire her $25,000 from her trust account. 

"Why do you need all that money while you're down here if you're coming
home in a week?"

"Because I want to buy some things for the baby. This is where he was born
you know."

The documents arrived and they went to the embassy. They returned with his
certificate of registration but not the passport or birth certificate.
They would take a week at least. They had put it on a rush order, paying
extra to get it processed. The certificate looked impressive with gold
seals and pink ribbons encircling it. Reagan put it in the new leather
portfolio they had purchased for all of their documentation. 

House rode in the taxi with her to the little house, gave her and the baby
a kiss and took off for the airport. Reagan was moved when she saw House's
head turn in the back of the cab as he watched the two of them until he
was out of sight. Reagan turned, entered the house and started to pack
into the new luggage. Greggy was running around like a banshee. She
already missed House's help. 

Reagan realized that as an American citizen, she could not own real estate
in Mexico outright, but her son, a Mexican National, could. She went to
Miguel de San Allende and spoke to him. The little houses around the
courtyard were worth $15,000 at most. She offered him $20,000 if he would
sell it to Greggy. Miguel was short on cash from betting too much on the
Mexican soccer games. He took her up on the very generous offer. The next
day she went to a lawyer who set up a trust for Greggy and transferred
title of the house into the trust a week later.

Reagan asked Lydia if she and her husband would take care of the house.
They could rent it out and keep the income if they did. They promised to
take care of it. "I'll be back at least once a year to check on it, so
please let the renter know I might call in from time to time."

Reagan felt good. She had secured a little piece of Puerto Vallarta for
her son. He could do whatever he wanted with it when he got older, but it
was his. She packed up their few possessions. She left the furniture for
whoever moved in but did give the crib away. She packed their clothes and
toys in the titanium backpack frame and the suitcase they bought. On the
day the documents arrived, she booked a flight back to Philadelphia for
the following evening. She called House. They had talked every day since
he had returned, sometimes twice a day. He seemed edgy, very nervous about
her coming home. He wanted every detail of her itinerary. She could tell
he would not be happy until she was safely back in Princeton.

The next day she took a taxi to the airport, gave her son some Benadryl to
make him sleep on the flight, and flew home to USA. They had a layover in
Dallas and then the final leg into Philly. They were circling Philadelphia
as a very unhappy Greggy was wailing from the pressure in his ears as they
started to descend. Reagan quickly pulled up her blouse and unlatched the
bra so he could nurse. The swallowing action caused his ears to pop and he
calmed down. By the time she got off the plane he was asleep again. She
had gone through customs in Dallas so all she had to do was find House and
get her luggage. She looked at her watch, 7:30 am. She walked out of the
secured area looking tired and haggard, carrying a diaper bag and a
shoulder bag. At first she didn't see him but she did see Cuddy, Wilson,
Chase and Cameron. Foreman was at the hospital holding down the fort.
House was over by the water fountain getting a drink. He looked up and saw
his tired wife, his sleeping son and the cheering mini-crowd and felt the
anxiety of the last few weeks melt away.

He walked over as Reagan was handing Cuddy the sleeping toddler. He smiled
at Reagan and said, "Do I know you?"

"God I hope so or I've just lugged all this crap here for nothing."

He reached his arms around her and kissed her on the mouth, took one of
the bags and walked towards the baggage carousel. Everyone was asking a
thousand questions and all House could think of was whether they should
wake Greggy so he'd be willing to take a long nap this afternoon. They had
a lot of catching up to do.

The End  
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the
ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
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