"Post Euphoria – A Time to Grow, Part 12 – Alison"

…a "House, M.D." story by Chicmns

Pairing: Cameron/Foreman

Rating: PG; with some slightly adult scenes

Summary: This is a story about a possible future together for Alison and Eric, after the events of "Euphoria 1 & 2."

Disclaimer: House, MD is completely owned by Fox. I have no connection to the show, other than being allowed to take it out for a spin occasionally on weekends – if I've finished my homework, and eaten my vegetables. I profit not from anything written here. Long live the Fox empire!!

Alison

I've discovered one of the best ways to fall sleep. It's being carried to bed by, and then lying next to, Eric; with the music of Miles Davis filling my ears.

If you asked me to make a "top ten" list … this would be right up there.

This is soooo good. My eyes are still closed; and will stay that way, until the building collapses around us--or until we finally decide to get out of his bed … whichever happens first.

My entire body is relaxed. You know how, sometimes … when you go to sleep after a very long day—and then wake up the next morning, with parts of your body as tense as when you laid down the night before? It's happened to me so much, especially after finishing med school--I'd almost gotten used to the feeling.

Not this time, though.

Every part of me … every square inch … is relaxed. I can't remember the last time I felt this way, or this good.

I feel him next to me … his arm under the pillow my head's resting on. His warm, even breaths caress my forehead and hair. I know that I tend to move around quite a bit when I'm sleeping; yet, here I am … in the same position that I remember drifting off in last night. His other arm encircles my waist underneath the comforter that's covering us. One of my hands is resting on his chest, right above his heart.

That's happened before; when we napped together on the couch in the living room.

It means something.

What, exactly … I'm not especially interested in figuring out at the moment.

I feel him move against me, his legs brushing up against mine in sleep … we're tangled together; our feet keeping each other's warm and toasty.

I've slept with Eric. Well … not "slept with", in the way most people mean when they use the phrase.

We went to bed last night … not even discussing, or dealing with … whether our 'sleeping' together would happen, or not.

He just picked me up and carried me to his bed after I'd drifted off to sleep on the couch.

I'm glad.

I mean, I'm still not sure we're at a point in our relationship where we take things to the next level yet. As fast, and as deeply, as our connection has grown … that's a very big decision to make. Both of us are still recovering, physically. With Eric; from his parasite and the biopsy … and me, from my cold.

Not that any of that would have factored much into things, if we'd decided it was the right time.

No … when we're ready, we'll both know.

Of course … if he keeps touching me, kissing me … looking at me, the way he's been … I'm not sure I'll have much left to fight our mutual desire.

OK … new subject, Alison--quickly.

Wait.

He's awake, and watching me-- I can tell. His breathing has changed (without any cause from me … I promise), and anyway … I can just tell.

God … what's happening between us? How can two people grow so close, so sensitive to one another--in such a short amount of time? Is all this just the upper layers of what's been there, for a long time? Something we both ignored; dismissed … discounted, for whatever reason?

I need to talk to him about this … later.

I can also tell that my cold has pretty much left me; I'm feeling pretty much my old self again. I think it's because of two reasons: I've slept and rested enough since we left the hospital, my body's natural defenses are reasserting themselves. The second reason--is Eric. He's taken care of me, so attentively, so lovingly … it gets me a little choked up. I still can't quite believe he called Lisa to come and look me over—for a simple cold. They're really … something else. I'll have to find some special way to thank her. Eric, as well--he's become more than important.

Much more.

"What evil are you planning for us today, love? I know you're awake."

I can't help it; a smile appears on my face … and I finally open my eyes to look at him. He's watching me with sleep-filled eyes, and one of those maddening little grins that slip past all my defenses at will.

"And a 'good morning' to you, too … sweetie." I stretch luxuriously under the comforter; scooting a little closer to him in the process. "I have no idea what you're talking about—and how did you know I was awake?" I continued … yawning as his grin deepened. God, he has the cutest dimples …

He reaches up, brushing my hair away from my face … gently stroking it a few times, before placing his hand on the back of my head, drawing me in closer for a kiss.

"mmmm … morning …" he whispered. "My 'Spidey sense' was tingling, so I knew evil was afoot. How do you feel?"

"Keep it up; and I'll give you all the 'foot' you're looking for," I jokingly complained. "To answer your second, much more polite question--so good, I'm seriously considering never leaving this bed." He chuckled.

"That might be a problem, after you've had your first few dozen cups of coffee …" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you insinuating that I drink too much coffee, dear?" We've had this conversation a few times before; he's always thought I drank too much tea and coffee for my own good.

"Alison … you're practically dating Juan Valdez!" I broke out in laughter.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not—and if you want breakfast, I'd reconsider my reply to that!" I good-naturedly threatened. He was in the process of hitting one back 'over the net' at me, when he suddenly stopped … grinning.

"You're making breakfast?" I nodded.

"Yes. Even though you don't deserve it; with your base accusations and mean comments … I'm going to make us omelets, if that's OK--once I find enough strength to get out of bed, that is."

"Sounds great to me; thanks. As for getting up--who says we have to, anytime soon--got anyplace you have to be?"

"No … I just don't get to sleep in much, except on the weekends. Guess I'm waiting for the phone to ring, or the pager to go off … or for Martians—injured and in need of our team's help, of course—to land." That got me more chuckles.

"Well, we're both off duty, and supposed to be recovering … according to the Dean of Medicine; remember? I'm not really looking forward to her third degree, when she's here on Saturday--if we're not looking sufficiently rested. So, I say … let's rest!" He gave me another long kiss and a smile … while I was still trying to catch my breath.

"'Rest', huh?" I quipped … raising an eyebrow and giving him a 'look'. He swallowed.

"Well, yeah … I mean, sort of … hey!--you want to put that eyebrow away, please? You're like a Guantanamo interrogator or something with that thing!"

It was all I could do to keep my face straight and serious. Instead, I let my impulsive nature take over … something that I've been doing quite a bit of lately with him. I leaned over him, and lowered my face to his … kissing him, as if I was drinking cool refreshing water from a desert well.

When I finally released his mouth, we were both gasping. I moved the rest of my body, stretching out on top of him … burying my face in his neck.

"You're driving me crazy …" I heard him say in a very 'frustrated' voice.

"Sorry," I told him, smiling against his cheek. "I just wanted to do that."

"It's OK--'Go with the flow,' I always say." I giggled.

"Eric – I've never heard you say that before—ever!"

"You just haven't been paying close enough attention, that's all…"

"No--but I'm sure Chase and Wilson have, though … they're probably wanting some 'chocolate love' in their lives …" I teased him.

"Aauggh—that's just … gross!" His face scrunched up in disgust, while I lay laughing on top of him. Which, as it turned out, left me too vulnerable to what happened next.

Suddenly, he flipped me over on my back … tickling me for all he was worth. I shrieked, laughing and trying to get away from him, but he was just too fast. The next moment, somehow, he held me by my feet … tickling my soles as I fought to escape.

I couldn't get away; he was too strong and fast. Finally giving up all thought of escaping, I just lay there … laughing my head off, writhing around on the bed until he finally gave up.

I'd ended up completely turned around; laying with my head at the foot of the bed; my feet stretched across his chest. The comforter was halfway off the bed entirely, no longer quite covering either of us. It took me a few more minutes to slow my giggles, and get enough oxygen back into my lungs to speak.

"I should … spike your omelet with jalapenos … or something …," I gasped.

He gave me a very expansive, regretful shrug. "Oh, too bad—don't have any in the house--sorry!"

I lifted my head up enough to glare at him. "Idiot," I darkly muttered.

"But you love me, anyway …" he answered, grinning down at me.

I stared up at the ceiling, not speaking, just … smiling. He watched me--smiling, too … I could tell.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," he said. The emotion behind those words energized me enough to sit up, Indian-style—a move he duplicated, facing me.

"What about you, sweetie?" I asked … tracing his strong jaw with a finger. "How's the spatial recognition?" He shrugged.

"Hard to tell; I'll know more when I'm moving around and the blood's circulating. I had a good night's sleep … you were next to me--what could be wrong?"

We smiled at each other; his mood seemed the same as it's been the past couple of days, which was very good. He doesn't seem to be worried about anything; something I was truly worried about, when we finally left the hospital. I'd learned to read his moods much better since this whole thing began, with his illness … and I knew he thought a lot about a lot of things; whether he'd recover enough to remain a neurologist, his dad and mom, his brother … and us.

He was worried sometimes about the fast pace we've been moving at; I could see it in his eyes sometimes. That's why a part of me was surprised he didn't carry me to the spare bedroom last night; even though I'm glad he didn't. I wouldn't have been all that surprised to wake up there this morning.

These thoughts were too heavy to start a new day with, I chastised myself. We both had a tendency--a bad habit, in some ways … of being wound just a little too tight at times. At least, while we were away from work … we both needed to stamp that out as much as possible. Now was as good a time to start as any, I thought to myself.

"Nothing's wrong," I told him … giving him a big smile. "Thanks for carrying me to bed, dear … and letting me stay in here. It helped, sleeping here with you. You know—sometimes I struggle with insomnia a little bit. But, being here at your place … I haven't felt that come on at any time. I was afraid I'd have a rough time with it, with my regular routines changing so much …" He nodded his understanding. Sometimes insomnia tended to worsen in different surroundings, and around different people. "I was worried I'd be keeping you up, if that happened."

"Well, then … it's a good thing it hasn't," he said. "I would have stayed up to help you; if I could."

"Now, see – that's why I was worried," I protested. "I know you would have wanted to, and then we'd both be losing sleep …" He caught my shaking chin in his hand. "We're helping each other heal here … right? I would do anything for you, Alison; just as I know you'd do anything for me. If that meant sacrificing sleep … so what? Sleep's for other people, anyway—we're doctors."

I just looked in his eyes, slowly shaking my head … amazed at his selflessness; then, I slid over to lay against him, as he sat back against the headboard of the bed … holding me.

"Think Cuddy and House would let us practice medicine from here?" I asked, half-seriously.

"Well … they're doing great things with telemedicine these days--never hurts to ask," he responded, with a chuckle in his voice.

"Mmmm..." I didn't want to get out of bed; neither did Eric, apparently.

He sat, cradling me against him; one strong arm wrapped around me … lying across my chest, just underneath my breasts. I was listening to him breathing behind me, along with the sounds of birds just outside his bedroom windows.

"What are we doing today?" he asked, after a few minutes. I thought about the question for a time.

"I'm not sure; but, whatever we do, we should probably try to get out of the apartment … since we're both feeling so much better. Any thoughts?"

"Well … I was thinking I needed to do a little bit of laundry, and clean a bit. I do have a guest staying with me, after all. After that, I'm not sure. Doing something outdoors sounds very appealing; even though I can't go to the dojo to work out, or find a basketball game to get into—my spatial recognition's gonna make stuff like that a little dangerous right now. I feel …" his voice drifted off in thought.

"You feel …" I prompted, hugging him a little tighter.

"Well--I woke up, thinking about you … and the ocean. Isn't that weird?" He shrugged.

My mind suddenly took off in a new direction. "Hey—that's a great idea!"

"Huh?" I could tell he was confused by my mental change of direction.

I was getting more and more excited by the second. "Eric--let's go to the beach!" I was almost squealing in delight.

"The beach, Alison? It sounds perfect, but … you do realize, this is New Jersey—the nearest beach has to be at least—"

"—fifty miles away—I know! Island Beach State Park -– sand, beaches, nice places to walk, lots to see … oh, Eric! It's just what we need! I don't mind driving; I've been there several times already, and I know a few good spots where we can just sit, catch some rays, and just watch the world go by. What do you say, babe?"

I gave him one of my best "forlorn" looks; sensing he wasn't quite sold on the idea. For myself, though; I was ready and raring to go. Who wouldn't want to spend time at the beach?

"You're really excited about this," he said … with a gleam in his eyes. Ok, he might not have ever seen me so excited about anything quite like this before. What he didn't know about were all of the weekends my family, friends, and I spent at the lakeshore in Chicago during late spring, summer, and early fall. We'd hit all of the great, scenic places up and down the shoreline; from Kenosha, Wisconsin, all the way to the sand dunes on the beaches in the northwestern-most part of Indiana. Those were great memories for me, growing up; and I wanted to build some, like them … with him.

"Yes, I am … please; can we go? I'll even promise not to make fun of you for … let's see--a whole hour after we get there. Of course, I'll have to make up for it after the hour's up, mind you, but…," He rolled his eyes, but I knew I'd sold him when I saw the gleam in his eyes brighten.

"Why not? Let's go! What time do you want to leave?"

I squealed. I literally squealed. Eric--idiot that he is--actually covered his ears; pretending that I'd hit some terrible note or something during the aforementioned squeal. I playfully pulled his arms away from his head, laughing … then I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. Pulling away, before another heavy makeout session started up … I held his face between my hands.

"Well, let's both get cleaned up and have some breakfast … and then I'll need to swing by my place to pick up some stuff; check my messages and mail, and make sure things are OK; then, I can pick you up. You can even start some laundry, if you want; by the time you start the dryer cycle, I'll be back. Sound good to you?"

He nodded, grinning. I could tell he was getting into the spirit of the day. I had no intention of letting him tire himself out, or anything like that; there were some nice, relatively secluded places I knew of, near the beach …where we could relax and spend time together, without either of us being overtaxed.

"OK", I told him. "You stay here and rest some more, while I catch a quick shower. Then, I'll make breakfast while you're getting ready … afterward, I'll go by my place, and give you some space for a couple of hours. I'll pick you up around … noon, or so … and we can be at the beach just after one. What do you think?"

"I think you've been planning this for longer than you let on, is what I think," he complained with a grin; teasing me with a little shove. I pushed him back, smiling. "No, I haven't—really. You were the one who brought up the beach, sweetie—and, by the way, I'm going to want to hear more about that dream you mentioned, about me and the beach … sounds kinda hot!" We both laughed.

"You might say that…," he told me with a wink. I raised both eyebrows, watching his expression.

"Oh, yeah … you're spilling ALL the details, my friend!"

"Think you'll be able to get it all out of me, huh?" he challenged. I returned his look with one of my own, equally challenging.

"Eric—you haven't even seen half of my moves, yet … I almost feel sorry for you—almost, that is." He snorted.

"Yeah, right… you should go shower, maybe get some of those delusional thoughts out of that beautiful head of yours; while I stay out here and laugh!"

Deciding to give him a little 'preview', I suddenly pulled him over to the middle of the bed … flipping him over and bending one arm behind his back, while I climbed on top—immobilizing him.

"What was that, mister?" I whispered in his ear, trying to use my weight to pin him. He was laughing while trying to free his arm at the same time; but I have a brother in the Navy, who's taught me a few things about wrestling.

Especially about how much leverage can overcome physical strength, if applied correctly.

I was laughing, too … as we wrestled each other, each of us looking for an advantage. Once he'd told me about studying karate, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold him for long; and I was right. Barely thirty seconds after I'd surprised him, I was the one facedown, with one of my arms behind my back. Plus, he held on to me a lot easier than I could hold him.

Releasing my arm once we'd both stopped laughing, I remained lying on my stomach across his bed, trying to get my breathing back. Before I could get there, I had another reason to breathe heavily.

Eric leaned over me; dropping small, soft kisses on my neck that made me forget my own name … then gliding down my back, he kept going … moving my hospital top out of the way, so that his lips settled directly on my skin. I squirmed underneath him, not in any attempt to get away … but in reaction to what he was doing.

Running his hands up and down my shoulders, I let out a groan as he started massaging and kneading me wherever his hands touched me. His hands were … wonderful. He was sitting on top of me, but not crushing … even though I knew he outweighed me by close to a hundred pounds. He sat high enough on his knees so that I didn't feel like I was being smothered; but I barely noticed … considering what his hands were doing.

He took his time, finding every knot and tight area, rubbing and massaging until I was beginning to feel like a spineless jellyfish under his ministrations. I heard myself sighing and moaning with almost every pass of his fingers and palms on me … especially when he reached my lower back; lifting my top out of the way enough to slide his warm, soft hands underneath.

Oh, lord … it felt so good.

I didn't remember when I'd closed my eyes, but I had. No need to see … when feeling was so much more important right now. My head rose up from the bed when I felt Eric's thumbs gently run up and down either side of my spine … then, the next moment … I was moaning again when he replaced his fingers with his lips. He'd slid down my body a little, still stretched out on top … but now with his face over my exposed back, kissing and nuzzling wherever there was uncovered skin.

I was a moment—just a tiny moment—away from whispering to him not to stop, to keep going … when I felt him slowly pull my top down over my back, and move to my side … stretching out next to me. I turned my head towards him, resting it on my folded arms as my eyes slowly opened, and our gazes met. He brushed my unruly hair away from my face, moving some strands behind my ear, and the rest he combed with his fingers … while I watched him from under half-closed eyelids.

If what he just did to me was a taste of--well, what we seemed to be heading towards … then I'd better schedule a heart stress test when I went back to work, just to make sure I could handle it.

Wow.

"Just for the record: I had trouble stopping myself just then …," he whispered … his eyes bright with passion and desire.

"Just for the record … I almost wouldn't have let you …," I replied, sighing. "You have incredible hands, doctor." He grinned.

"Thanks. I was … inspired, by the incredible beauty in front of me at the time; as I always am."

"That's such a sweet, wonderful thing for you to say; did you get an 'A+' in compliments, too, at Johns Hopkins?"

"Yep; you know how much of a 'Type A' I am—can't stand coming in second in anything!" I snorted, not being able yet to muster enough energy for a full-blown laugh. That's how much he's taken out of me. We continued gazing at each other, neither of us saying a word. We were getting very, very good at this gazing thing. Several minutes passed before he cleared his throat, shaking himself as he looked away.

"Hey, girl … if we're going to hit the beach today, you're going to have to start moving that sexy rear of yours, and get it in gear!" he said, poking me in the ribs. I pushed his hand away.

"Stop it! I'm going, I'm going …," I groaned as I slowly got up from the bed … slowly heading to the spare room where my stuff was. "Eric, can I throw my robe in with your laundry, after I get out of the shower?"

His voice came back to me across the hallway after I'd passed through the door of his spare room. "Sure, hon—and anything else you want to wash. Just put it in the hamper here, and I'll take care of it."

"Thanks—you're great!" I called back to him.

"Don't I know it!" was his snarky reply. I chuckled.

"Careful, there, 'Superfly' … you don't want to get too big a head. Some kid might try to fly it as a kite when we get to the beach!" I was rustling through my things from the travel bag I'd brought … trying to separate things that were still good to wear, from the things I planned to add to his clothes hamper.

"Very funny, 'Miss Thang!'" I laughed as I pushed the door closed with a foot, then undressed … getting ready for my shower. I started humming as I began thinking about the things I needed to collect from my apartment for the beach, and suddenly dreaded checking my answering machine; I was sure there would be plenty of calls from my family, as well as a few from the hospital. I hoped that none of them would dampen my spirits; I was really looking forward to spending the day with Eric at the beach.

Wrapping myself in my robe, I left the spare room, padding back down the hallway … when I heard Eric in the living room watching the news on his TV.

"Be out in a few minutes, dear!" I called to him as I went back into his room.

"Take your time, love!" I saw that he'd pulled his hamper out of his closet for me, and I smiled … both at his cheery mood, his use of the name 'love' for me, and his sensitivity. He'd pulled out a set of clean towels, including a gigantic-looking fluffy one I definitely planned on using. Closing the bedroom door, I could hear exclamations from him, over what sounded like a sports report. Shaking my head in fondness, I entered the bathroom, slipped out of my robe … hung it on an empty hook on his door, and started my shower.

Fifteen minutes later, I was finished … reluctantly leaving the hot, relaxing shower. I was a little miffed; as well as having a larger place than mine, his bathroom was bigger—and the hot water was luxurious! My apartment, while comfortable, felt like a matchbox in comparison.

On top of all that, I typically only had about ten minutes of good hot water at home, before it usually ran out.

Unfair--very unfair, I thought to myself.

Sitting on his bed, wrapped in towels … I carefully dried off, spending more time on my hair. I definitely didn't want to reacquire any chills; especially today. There was nothing worse than not feeling well while you're at the beach.

Slipping my robe back on, I opened the bedroom door to the magic aromas of fresh-brewed coffee; Eric must have taken pity on me. Following my nose instead of finishing getting dressed, I moved like a zombie down the hall … heading directly for the kitchen. I didn't even look in his direction when I passed through the living room; so intent I was on getting some coffee into my system. I heard his knowing laugh behind me, and immediately added it to the list of "things to get Eric back about." When I entered the kitchen, I came to a stop; Eric had set out a mug for me, along with some milk and sugar. Quickly filling my mug and adding the needed ingredients, I took a few long sips … closing my eyes in delight. Holding the cup in both hands, I drifted back to the living room … immediately sticking my tongue out at Eric, who was laughing at the expression of bliss on my face. I walked over to where he sat on the very end of the couch, smiling my thanks … reaching down with one hand to caress the back of his neck, while I watched the rest of the sports report. When it ended, I leaned down and kissed the top of his head, and then turned back to the spare room in order to finish my morning absolutions.

"Bathroom's all yours, sweetie," I told him in a raised voice, before shutting the door to finish dressing.

Once I'd finished getting dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, along with my sneakers … I headed to the kitchen to start breakfast--and get a refill of coffee. Eric was in the shower, so I slipped into his room to add my contributions to his hamper on my way to the kitchen.

Pulling out the eggs, some vegetables, sliced ham, and a couple of peppers from the refrigerator, I arranged everything I needed before placing a large no-stick pan on the stove, adding vegetable cooking oil—along with a few drops of olive oil to thicken the eggs once they were added, and turned the burner on to heat.

Pulling out a mixing bowl, I began dicing the vegetables, peppers, and ham on Eric's cutting board, and then added several eggs to the mix. Whisking the mixture while the pan heated, I brought the mix to a good consistency; enough to make two good-sized omelets. Humming to myself while going over the layout of the beach in my mind--mentally looking for the best spots for us to relax in, I started preparing the omelets. They came out pretty well, I thought to myself; golden-brown on the outside, with the multicolored veggies mixed consistently throughout.

By the time I heard the shower stop, I'd finished the second omelet—a slightly smaller one for me, since I almost never ate large breakfasts—topping them off with sprigs of parsley … and started to plate them.

I'd just finished rinsing the mixing bowl, pan, and utensils I'd used for the omelets, placing them in the dishwasher … when I heard Eric coming down the hall. He came into the kitchen wearing gym shorts, white socks, a well-worn Patrick Ewing New York Knicks jersey, and a large smile. He looked so handsome and healthy-looking; it was hard to remember that he'd been so close to dying, just a few weeks past. I smiled back at him, holding out a large glass of juice that he took from my hands before kissing my cheek. As he passed me, I was enveloped in a cloud of soapy male aromas that seemed to take away the other scents in the kitchen, and I took a deep breath … enjoying the sensations I was experiencing.

"You look great, Eric—sit down, and eat", I managed to say, without having to clear my throat.

"Thanks—so do you, girl. This looks super, Alison—you really didn't have to make breakfast, you know." I sat next to him, smiling as I started my omelet.

"I know—but I wanted to. You've been putting up with me here in your place; I'm just lucky you like my cooking."

He grabbed my hand. "I'm not 'putting up' with you, Alison … I love having you here with me—and I love your cooking, too. We're both pretty lucky—we don't seem to be driving each other nuts, staying together; right?" He searched my face for any sign I was uncomfortable here, and I nodded, quickly agreeing with him.

"It's pretty amazing—and a great feeling. I feel … very 'at home' here, with you. Part of your 'charm', dearest."

I quickly looked away from him, moving my attention to my food. I'd just called him "dearest" – that's what my mom usually called my Dad.

Oh … my.

I've never before called a man "dearest" – not even my husband. It's never … felt right, for some reason.

Until just a moment ago, that is. Of course, he immediately sensed the change in my mood.

"Is everything OK, Alison? Your face changed, all of a sudden—did I--?"

Taking his hand, I shook my head, giving him an encouraging smile. "No, Eric … everything's fine—really. I just … suddenly thought of my parents. I haven't talked to them for a while, and I'm sure there's going to be lots of messages on my machine at home…" my voice trailed off. He nodded, looking relieved that he hadn't said something that bothered me, or disturbed our shared good mood.

"You should call them, then … take all the time you need, too. Maybe later you can tell me more about them; you started to, the other night … but you cleverly changed the subject on me. I'm more ready for your tricks, now, so you can tell me more about 'Alison—the early years'!" Shaking my fork at him, I laughed.

"You're the sneaky, underhanded one in this couple, sweetie--while I'm the virtuous, pure, innocent spirit; spreading peace and love wherever I go…" He was faking choking on his food by the time I'd finished, and I glared at him.

"Something to add, Eric Foreman?" I asked in a threatening voice. … leaning towards him.

He quickly busied himself with drinking some juice, and continuing on devouring his giant omelet … while I pretended to glare at him out of the corner of my eye.

We ate in companionable silence for a while, trading grins occasionally as we worked through the omelets. When we'd both finished, he got up, and started to clear the dishes away … waving off my help with a smile. I drank some more of the coffee he'd made for me, and wandered out into the living room while he finished up in the kitchen.

I stood there, staring at the couch. I knew that if I sat and waited for him, we'd be there for a while … focused on each other. As much as I would have preferred that, I knew I had to leave soon, then come back to get Eric before we headed to the Jersey beach. Sighing, I went back to the spare room to finish getting ready to leave. It was a strange feeling … my reluctance at leaving him for the first time since he'd regained consciousness in the hospital. I knew this would happen eventually; I was more than surprised at the strength of the feeling I had … to stay with him.

Shaking my head, I collected my purse, cell, and beeper … and headed for the living room.

He was standing there, waiting for me. After moving my purse's strap to my shoulder, I walked up … wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Wanna hear something weird?" he asked me … his chin comfortably resting on the crown of my head.

"What?" I murmured, my face buried in his chest.

"Even though I'll see you in a few hours-–I don't want you to leave." We stood there for a few seconds, both considering what he'd just said.

"I don't want to leave you, either, Eric ... and I don't think that's weird at all."

"No?"

"No. I'm missing you already, and I haven't even left yet." I suddenly laughed. "What's going to happen when we're back at work?"

He laughed, too. "We'll … find a way. I have the feeling, too, that we'll be the subject of a few betting pools and conversations."

"Oh, no doubt," I chuckled. This was silly; if I was going to get back to him any sooner … I needed to go, already.

Before pushing myself out of his arms, I kissed him … and then turned away, heading for the door while pulling out my keys.

"Drive safely, babe. Call me if you want to." I turned at the door, meeting his eyes. His hands had slipped into the pockets of his shorts as he stood there, watching me.

"Be back as soon as I can, sweetie. Love you."

There. I'd said it. It was out there, in the open.

He smiled … a deep, slow smile that looked like a second sun, even on this bright sunny day.

"… love you back," came his soft answer. I stood at his open door, my own smile threatening to break my face in two.

"I know," I told him, sending my feelings through our gaze … before turning and passing through the door, closing it softly behind me.

The walk to my car wasn't made on my feet; I glided there, feeling as if I was floating above the ground. The strange feeling in my chest now felt … familiar. My heart had come fully alive again.

We hadn't said the three words to each other; not word for word, at any rate.

Still--we'd said … expressed … what we felt for each other; what we both knew was growing between us.

My car drove itself to my place from Eric's … my mind and heart taking off on their own jaunts. I was shocked when, what felt like a very short time later … I realized that I was already pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex. Parking the car and then walking to the common mailbox stall near the complex offices, I checked my box to find it completely stuffed with mail. Shaking my head, I gathered it up and then climbed the stairs to my second-floor apartment.

Letting myself in with my keys and then dropping the pile of mail on my kitchen counter … I went to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water to drink. It was already developing into one of the warmer days of the year, so far … another perfect reason to go to the beach. The almost-empty fridge stared back at me when I reached in for one of my last bottles of water, reminding me again that I would have to go shopping soon.

Reaching over to my answering machine sitting next to the pile of unopened mail, I hit the "Play" button. Ugh—twenty-four messages. Sipping the cold water, I sighed as they started to play. When I'd gotten through all of them, most were from family and friends; a couple from Chase and Wilson, and even one from House—demanding to know where I'd hidden the sugar for the office coffee. And, there were a couple from Cuddy, too: the first, just "checking" up on me—the second making me burst out laughing at the thinly-veiled innuendoes she teased me with, having figured out that I was spending time at Eric's.

The ones from my family were all pretty much the same: we haven't heard from you; what's going on; are you OK—stuff. I decided to return those first--beginning with my parents. Dialing my parents' home in Naperville, IL, I got the machine there; apparently, no one was home.

"Mom, Dad; it's Alison. Hey, guys. I'm sorry I haven't called in a while; things … got interesting at the hospital. One of my teammates contracted a life-threatening disease that we barely diagnosed in time. You remember me telling you about him; Eric Foreman? Yeah, the one who stole my article--him. Well--he almost died. It's a long story, and I promise to tell you all about it later. Anyway, I'm his primary physician, and … well, that's where I've been. He was finally recovered enough to be sent home to rest a few days ago, and I've been watching over him … until he gets better. He's doing great, and I'm fine as well. Sorry to have worried you; I'll call back tomorrow, OK? I'm calling Frank and Lizzy next, so please don't pester them for any more details—wait until we talk tomorrow. All right; I love you both, I'm fine, and I'll call back tomorrow. Bye!"

My next two calls were to Baltimore, and NYC … trying to reach my brother and his family in Maryland, and my sister in New York. Shockingly enough, I got both of their machines', too—I figured I'd at least get a hold of my sister-in-law Dana; who worked part time from home. I left pretty much the same message with both of them that I'd left with my folks in Chicago … knowing that I'd still be facing long, expensive phone conversations with everyone soon.

If only I could get them all in the same online chat, I'd save a lot of time and money! My brother and I chatted quite a bit that way; but neither Lizzy nor my parents had quite caught the technology train yet—no matter how hard Frank and I tried to teach them.

Deciding to call a couple of friends as well, just to let them know I hadn't dropped off the face of the earth … and having to endure the "you sound different; what's going on?" stuff … I finished my phone work with a quick call to Cuddy.

Once I'd been transferred to her office, she picked up almost before the first ring ended.

"Alison! So, you are still alive, after all! How are my two wayward doctors doing? Feeling better?"

"Yes, Mother … we're both fine. Listen—thanks for coming all the way over to Eric's to check on me; you didn't have to—"

"Yes, I did. First, because you're a friend, and second … I was worried about you, knowing how exhausted you were. I suspect you can tell me the possible consequences of an overtaxed immune system, hmm? Eric was worried, too—and he gets a gold star, for letting me know that you were sick! I know you'd never admit to such weakness! And, by the way … I heard that 'Mother' crack—you just bought yourself a whole day in the clinic when you get back!"

"But—"

"Wanna shoot for two?" I sighed. Lisa liked to remind people occasionally who was really in charge. I decided to go the "meek" route; maybe she'd forget about the clinic day at some point.

"No, ma'am."

"Better; much better! Now that I've straightened you out … what's going on with … you and … him!"

She'd thrown me for a loop. "Who 'him'--what are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on! You know exactly who and what I'm talking about, little one! Spill it! Have you two done the 'wild monkey dance' yet?"

It was all I could do to keep from laughing. She was in rare form this morning; even for her. I decided to try to take some kind of moral high ground with her; I'm not sure I was ready for this particular subject, yet … and it bothered me a little bit that people would assume something physical between Eric and I; apparently discounting any possibility that we truly liked and cared deeply for each other.

This, however, wasn't the time to be lecturing my boss's boss on our relationship. They'd all see, and understand, soon enough. Keeping things light was the order of the day.

"You're an evil, vile person to even suggest such a thing; while we're both struggling—mightily, I might add—to get back to that sweatshop of a hospital you run!"

I heard her overly-dramatic sniff over the phone. "And there I was … rushing to your side, when I heard you were sick. Spending my own money on the most advanced medicines we have, so that you'd get better …," she said in an affronted voice; mixed in with a little chuckle that only someone who knew her would hear.

"NyQuil—'advanced'?" I asked, in a mocking, puzzled voice. She snorted—barely stopping herself from laughing... then continuing with her "lecture."

"Don't mock modern medicine! You owe me ten bucks, missy--I got you both kinds! Don't worry, though—I'll just collect it from you Saturday night; after you feed me."

"Yeah … to the neighborhood dogs …" I muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Hey—I heard that! Two days, missy!"

We both finally burst out laughing. I'd missed her snarky, offbeat style of humor … and the easy way we teased each other.

When we'd caught our breaths, she continued talking.

"It's good to hear your voice, Alison—you sound a lot better. I have to admit, I was looking over Chase's shoulder as he ran the tests on your swabs … I just didn't want anything happening to you, too …"

I swallowed a few times. One of the many weird things that had happened these past few weeks during Eric's illness, was Cuddy and I getting closer than we'd been before. Ironically enough, I think it started when I'd chewed her out in her own office--right in front of House and Eric's dad--over her refusal to allow us to biopsy the cop's body. I think … it let us reach a new level of comfort between us.

Of course, House had loved every second of it. The bastard. Me--I was convinced I'd just lost my job. She and I'd never talked about it again … until I apologized over it later.

"You're a good friend, Lisa … and you worry too much. It was just a cold, anyway; and I'm practically over it now. I do appreciate you and Eric taking care of me the way you did, though. He's doing a lot better; he's gotten most of his energy back already. There's still a few spatial recognition issues, but that's it. His memory, behavior traits, sleep patterns … all seem normal."

"Thank God …" I heard her whisper.

"Yeah … you're welcome."

There was a moment of silence, and then she exploded in laughter. I chuckled along with her.

"You know … ten minutes after we hang up, I'm going to remind myself that that joke really wasn't all that funny—but, for now, I'll laugh; for your benefit, if for no other reason." I raspberried her over the phone.

"Hardy har-har—Dean of Medicine--AND a comedienne, too! Sounds like a personality disorder to me!"

"You're just wanting to spend all of your time in the clinic, don't you?" she mock threatened.

"If it keeps me away from House, sure--speaking of, how're things going there—any interesting cases?"

"No … and he's driving everyone even nuttier than usual. No challenges for him, you see … with no one to take it out on, either. I'm shielding Chase from him as much as I can, but he sneaks down there occasionally when my back's turned. Even Wilson's having trouble talking to him." She immediately changed the subject. "Feel well enough to come back Monday?"

I almost told her no … so that Eric and I would have more time together. Almost. With my cold gone, and having caught up on enough of my lost sleep … there really wasn't any reason for me to stay at home any more—work related, that is. To be honest, a part of me dreaded being there, alone … trapped with House--while Eric was still off work. None of that really mattered, though—I'm a doctor, and I had work to do.

"Yeah, I do. Is it true Eric's board review hearing is set for next Friday?"

"Yes, it is. I see House has been running off at the mouth. I was going to call Eric next week to tell him, but you can go ahead and let him know. Barring any changes in his recovery, both of you need to meet me, and the oversight board, at 2PM next Friday in the main conference room. Alison … between now and then, you need to keep me informed about anything that might keep him from getting his privileges back. I'm serious. I need both of you back here and in good health, so that we can make that meeting a formality. Understand?"

"Yes, I do. He'll-we'll both be ready, I promise." My voice was filled with certainty.

"Good. I miss you two. Hey—lunch, on me, Monday—no excuses; all right?"

"Lisa …" I started to protest.

"That's an order, Dr. Cameron. Must I get out the electrodes as well?"

"No," I replied in my snarkiest voice. "But judging on how that morning goes with House, I may be asking you for shock treatments by lunchtime!"

Lisa laughed. "Don't worry … I'll be threatening him a lot between now and then, to warn him off. Anything you want me to tell anyone here?"

"Nah … oh; tell Wilson and Chase thanks again for the pizza and beer the other night, and for visiting us. It was what we both needed."

"Oh, wait--yeah, now I remember … that was the gathering whose invitation I must have misplaced, or otherwise lost …" her voice trailed off. I couldn't believe it.

"For Christ's sake; will you please get off of that, already? Naturally, Eric and I assumed beer would be too 'lowbrow' for your queenly tastes! Jeeze!"

She started 'tsk-ing' me over the phone. "My, my; such language! I'll be sure to bring a bar of soap with me to lunch."

"You're gonna have to catch me first," I growled, "and I'd bet my practical shoes over your heels, any day of the week!"

"We'll see, little one. We'll see! Listen; this has been all sorts of fun, but I see House coming this way. Gotta run. What time Saturday?"

"Six, I think. Don't worry about bringing anything. We'll see you then."

"Oh, yeah—like that was gonna happen! I'm kidding! OK—six; got it. Bye!"

I was listening to a dial tone … chuckling at the conversation. I wonder what people will think of the new "dynamic" between Lisa and I; it'll probably be put down to me becoming more "mouthy" all of a sudden … or some crap like that. And, of course … House, with his inevitable lesbian-tinted jokes.

Swell.

Sighing, I rolled off the bed to start getting ready for the beach. I pulled a backpack out of my closet, putting a couple of towels in, along with some sunscreen, a paperback I've been reading, a nice large blanket for lounging on … and a few other things. Picking up my sunglasses from the top of my dresser, I set them next to my purse.

Standing in front of my closet again, I tried to decide what to wear. My one-piece bathing suit (in case we decided to swim), underneath a yellow print sundress, with comfortable sandals completing my outfit. Sitting down on my bed, I decided to put my hair into a ponytail; first brushing it out to soften the strands. While I brushed away, I sat cross-legged on my bed … going through the mail that had collected over the past several days. Bills, a letter from one of my nieces, a card from Frank (my brother knew I was a sucker for the weepy Hallmark cards, and continually made me cry by finding and sending me the weepiest cards he could lay his hands on), and a letter from my sister. I included the card from Frank and the letter in my purse; I'd read both of them later at Eric's.

Then, I changed clothes, checking myself in the full-length mirror in my room. The sundress clung and swayed in all the right places, bringing a smile to my face. I was hoping a certain guy would like me in it; and actually giggled like a teenager getting ready for the quarterback to come pick me up for a date.

Wow; I am done for; toast; hooked. He'd better like the dress.

As well as the other surprise that I was planning for him.

You see, I knew about this great place in town where you could get made-to-order picnic baskets for one, two, or more people. You could order just about anything you wanted in them. Sandwiches, whole entrees, sweets; even champagne. We would probably not need the booze—at least, not this time, I smiled to myself—but some sandwiches, maybe a few brownies … along with plenty of iced tea, would be perfect. I knew Eric liked most cold cut sandwiches, but he really liked roast beef—as well as pastrami; something he had in common with House. In fact, House had gotten so uncannily good at finding out when Eric bought pastrami for lunch, and then sliding by to steal most, if not all, of his sandwich … that he'd practically stopped ordering it at the hospital in disgust.

Well, today … I'd make sure that there was some excellent pastrami included in my basket order.

Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was getting pretty close to eleven … and I still had to gas up the car, as well as go by to get the picnic basket. Gathering up my backpack and purse, as well as exchanging my reading glasses for my sunglasses, I was ready to go. I wondered whether I should call him, to let him know I was leaving my place and running a couple of quick errands before coming to pick him up. No, I decided; I didn't want the type of relationship where we were calling each other every five minutes … and I was sure he didn't, either.

I turned off all the lights, except for one lamp in my small living room, gathered up my bags, and left the apartment … carefully locking the front door.

Piling the backpack in the back seat, I drove to the nearest gas station, filled my tank, and then headed for the picnic basket shop. Afraid that many other people would have the same idea I'd had on a day as beautiful as this one was turning into, I expected to see a long line when I arrived. Surprisingly, though, there were only a couple of other customers in the store, which looked and felt much like a supermarket; except you left with your purchases in either a regular wood-sided, wicker, or plastic basket. I was able to get a great basket for two, with my specific items; including some freshly bakes brownies.

Finally finished with my preparations, I headed back over to Eric's. When I pulled up a few doors away from his place, he was standing outside… talking with some people I hadn't seen before. A young couple, I saw … with a very young baby in a stroller. I got out and waved; knowing he'd seen me pull in to the lot, and had been watching me out of the corner of his eyes. I adjusted my sunglasses, shut the car door, and walked over to the group.

Eric was grinning as I walked up, and the young woman standing with the man next to her was glancing back and forth between us, an intrigued look on her face. Eric held out a hand to me as I drew closer, and I smiled … taking it. We kissed, and then I told him hi.

He was wearing cargo shorts, a loose white t-shirt, roman-style sandals on his feet … and sunglasses, as well as a well-worn baseball cap. I gulped; he looked so healthy and handsome, with his muscular arms and legs. I was in danger of swooning right then and there.

"Hi, yourself. You look wonderful", he told me. "So do you, handsome," I replied … smiling again. He turned to the other three people standing there with us. "Alison, these are some neighbors of mine; Aaron and Jenna Harrison, and this little princess is their daughter Jennifer. Guys, this is Alison; she's a doctor at PPTH." We shook hands, while Eric held Jennifer cradled in his arms. Obviously, she was totally enthralled by him; she kept touching his face, especially his dimpled smile.

"It's good to meet you folks," I said. "Wow … Jennifer's beautiful—how old is she, and is she planning on letting go of my guy anytime soon?" I asked in a teasing voice. Everyone laughed, except for Jennifer … who just smiled at me with the most angelic look you could imagine.

"Nice meeting you, too, Alison. So--you're the Alison who saved this 'playboy's' life, huh? We've heard a lot about you." Aaron replied, grinning at me. "Eric's already put our girl under his spell; she never had a chance, I'm afraid." It was true; Jennifer seemed quite taken with Eric; her head, full of curly hair, laying on his shoulder as she gazed up at him, while he stood in place … gently bouncing her in his arms.

I was, well … a little surprised. I'd never seen him with a baby in his arms before, and he looked entirely natural with her … as if he'd been doing it for years. He watched as I reached over to shake Jennifer's hand—she immediately grabbed hold of one of my fingers, grinning as if she'd found a pot of gold. I laughed at the expression on her face.

"She's an angel," I gushed. Her parents beamed at me. "How old is she?"

Eric answered. "She's almost two; her birthday's in a couple of weeks." Obviously, Eric spent a fair amount of time with these folks.

"And you're both invited to her birthday party—with the appropriate protective coverings, of course", Jenna said. We all laughed.

"That's very kind of you—thanks." I told her. She still had an inquisitive look in her eyes as she glanced between Eric and me … helping to explain the sudden invitation to a perfect stranger. I got the feeling she wanted to find out more about us. Aaron's bemused look at his wife's obvious curiosity was a big clue, too.

Looking down at Jennifer, who had released my finger so that she could put her thumb in her mouth … Eric let out a sigh, and met my eyes. "We should probably get going, love…" I nodded, watching as he carefully lowered Jennifer back into her stroller—giving her a tickle as he did, which brought a peal of giggles from her.

"What's your specialty, Alison?" Jenna asked me. "Immunology; I work on the same diagnostics team as Eric," I answered.

"Did that help you find out what was wrong with him? When he told us what had happened …" Aaron shook his head.

"Actually, our boss and I found the answer at about the same time. It was touch and go there, for a while … but Eric's tough, and fought it every step of the way," I told them, taking his hand in mine … the pride and relief apparent in my voice.

"Well … thanks for taking care of him, and being such a great doctor. He sings your praises constantly. It was nice meeting you--can we send you two an invitation, then, to this little monster's party?"

I laughed, nodding along with Eric. "Sure; we'd love to come. Thanks so much for inviting us. I hope that we won't have to work; we'd both love to be there. See you guys later." Eric and I waved at all three of them, before turning away to walk over to my car.

"And once again, the Cameron charm comes to the forefront," he teased me … grinning one of those grins of his. I shrugged.

"Can I help it if they like me more than you?" I innocently replied. Hearing him snort as we got into the car made me giggle.

After we'd been settled in our seats, Eric continued. "Jennifer's really something—she's so smart for her age, it's amazing."

"Well, she's a beautiful little thing—such great eyes, and a killer smile. Aaaand …" I paused a moment, before continuing, "she's certainly quite taken with her 'Uncle Eric'; she never took her eyes off of you the whole time you were holding her." He adjusted his seatbelt … raising one shoulder in a shrug as he settled in his seat.

"You don't mind, do you—sharing me with another woman, I mean?" I gave him a considering look, before turning back to concentrating on the right way to the highway out of town, and towards the beach.

"As long as they're all under the age of two; knock yourself out! If you hook up with anyone older … I'll have to kill you; of course."

"Oh, of course … goes without saying", he laughed. Noticing the covered basket in the back seat, he turned to me with a questioning look. I gave him my best secretive smile.

"It's a surprise—and no, before you ask … you can't touch it, or try to figure out what it is before we get there!" I'd reached over to slap his hand away, after he'd tried to uncover it from the blanket I'd placed over it.

"Oww!" He jerked his hand away … rubbing it as if I'd dropped a hammer on his fingers, or something.

"Don't whine—it's unbecoming of a neurologist. Now, if you were, say, an intensivist--yeah, maybe …" I felt the smirk on my face grow larger, as I chastised him.

Eric chuckled, shaking his head.

"Think his ears are burning right now?"

"Who cares? It's a beautiful day … and we're going to the beach!" I used my free hand to punch the air in front of me as I drove. Eric raised an eyebrow of his own in my direction.

"Been dipping into the NyQuil a little too much, hon?" he teased.

"Oh, shut up--and don't bother me!"

"Sure; whatever you say," he replied in an even voice, "… it's just that, I was going to say next how amazingly drop-dead gorgeous you look in that sundress--but since you don't want to hear me talking …" his voice drifted away.

Playing along with his little game, I placed a panicked look on my face. "Wait—the ban's lifted! Please—go on with what you were saying, by all means!" We both laughed.

He paused after a few seconds … and then turned towards me in his seat, leaning his back against the door frame.

"When I saw you get out of your car, and walk over to us … I knew that I was looking at the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in my life."

My throat seized up, making it almost impossible to breathe … let alone speak. I stole a glance at him, to see his face … and he carried the most serious, emotional look I'd ever seen from him. I took my sunglasses off for a moment, meeting his gaze.

"Thank you, Eric." I managed to get out … feeling the blush on my face spread down my pale skin, to my neck and upper chest. He'd embarrassed me yet again. My mind was bouncing all over the place … driven along by the beat thundering in my chest. Luckily, I managed to not run us off of the road at his declaration.

It was hard for me to believe that he was the same emotionally remote, closed-off doctor I'd gotten used to. He was … much more accessible, and now, always willing to show me his true feelings. To me, that was one of the best signs he was really committed to our new relationship—not that I had doubts. I could say things to him, now … talk to him … in the ways I think I'd always wanted to—and not get rejected, or otherwise turned away for my troubles.

By the time we'd gotten onto Route 37 heading out of town, towards the town of Seaside Park—where Island Beach State Park was located—we'd settled into another of those deep, wide-ranging talks I'd come to cherish and look forward to with him. Also … true to both of our personalities … we also rode in silence for about a third of the time, both of us enjoying the scenery we were passing. Eric had adjusted his seat again, so that he could lean back as far as he could, and I thought he was going to nap for a while. He didn't, though; he just spent the time looking out of the window.

I wondered what he was thinking, and asked him … sensing he was still in a mood to talk.

"Nothing specific, really … just trying to keep my mind uncluttered so that I can enjoy this time with you … without bringing down the mood of the beach party" he wryly answered. I reached over to take his hand in mine.

"You're not bringing anything down, sweetie. I love every minute I get to spend with you, too; it doesn't matter what we're doing. But, Eric … if you have something on your mind, and you need some space to deal with it … that's fine. I'll be here when you 'get back' out of your head; I hope you know that."

He shook his head … chuckling for a few moments. "What?" I asked.

He quickly glanced in my direction before answering. "Well … most women I've spent time with usually had steam coming out of their ears when I'd go into one of my 'introspective' moods; I guess they thought I was thinking about someone other than them, or something that they didn't understand. You're not that way at all. Was your husband the same way?"

It was ironic; I was with one of only two people in Princeton that I didn't get a little nervous when asked about my late husband. I'd told Eric little bits and pieces over the months since he'd come to work for House, small details about my short marriage … and widowhood. For some reason, I'd always trusted him to keep what I told him to himself; even from the others … and he'd never violated that trust, as far as I knew. The only other person who knew any details about my life "back then", was Cuddy.

She has a way of getting you to talk about yourself; and unlike some other bosses I've had in the past, I knew she'd never reveal or use what I told her against me.

"Yes, he was … a little", I told Eric. "He was a very introspective person, like you … but he tended to retreat into himself much further." I sighed, thinking about my late husband. "He wasn't nearly as sensitive about how others might react to it as you are. He just … assumed that people would accept that part of his personality; and if they didn't, it was their problem. It could be a little … off-putting, sometimes. I learned to understand that part of who he was, but I was sad that he'd never seemed to see the problems it could cause."

Eric was quiet for a few miles … thinking about what I'd said.

"You seem able to talk about him a lot easier, than when we first met. Back then, I would've apologized for bringing it up; now, though … I sense you're more at peace about his passing. I could still apologize, if I need to …"

I shook my head, smiling in his direction. "No, that's not necessary. We're past that, you and I. Anyway, I know that whenever you ask me about him, it's always with a lot of sensitivity and caring. You don't want his memory to hurt me, and I appreciate that--a lot."

He reached over … absently touching my hair, and playing with the strap of my sundress. It was something a close friend might do, yes … but there was an intimate side to it that meant more. Much more.

"I don't want anything to hurt you, Alison." I heard his words … and I knew that he would protect me, and whatever I gave to him, in trust..

He'd never let anything, or anyone, hurt me … if he could prevent it.

The traffic had slowed enough to let me focus on him a little more. I reached over myself, laying a hand on his bare thigh … gently squeezing his leg. I loved the sensation of my fingers on his skin. As we got closer to the coastal area, the traffic grew heavier … allowing me to keep my hand where it was, for a while longer. I picked up the thread of our conversation again.

"I think I'm finally at a place where the grief isn't as … sharp … as it once was. It's still there, and I'm sure it will always be there," I told him, "but it's not defining my emotional responses as much as it might have before; if that makes any sense".

He slowly nodded. "You're saying … that it's staying more and more in that part of your heart where grief eventually goes, and doesn't come out to overwhelm you as much anymore."

My heart skipped a beat at that moment; that someone I have deep feelings for … looked into me, and saw the truth of something I'd been dealing with for a long time. It was a … liberating experience; knowing that another person knew … really knew, what I'd been experiencing.

"Yes--exactly. You nailed it on the head, darling. No one else … seems to understand that--not even most of my family. But you; you do … don't you?" My voice ended in a whisper … my attention back on the cars and vehicles around us … but with all of my sharply attuned senses focused on Eric.

"I may not have seemed at times like I wanted to understand, or even tried to … what you were so obviously struggling with, Alison--but I did; I do. I'm sorry I wasn't supportive, before; we …" he shook his head.

"…were different people, to each other … and didn't have what we do now." I finished, in a whisper. He nodded … rubbing his face with a hand.

"Yes."

"I think you already realize this, but … I've forgiven you for that, too."

"I know you have, and I'm happy that you did. I'm not sure I would have, if our positions had been reversed."

I sighed. "Not to change the subject, but this sounds like too much like a look into our past; just something to learn from, and avoid. Anyway; I think you would have, as well. Because it's the kind of man you are."

I felt him shake himself, as if he were throwing off a too-heavy coat. "You're right."

Deciding to lighten things up a little, I answered in a wry, grateful voice, "At least we can say one thing …"

"And that is---?"

"We haven't talked about, or commiserated over, our boss in days now!"

He suddenly laughed, lightly slapping the palm I held up. "Amen, sister!" I grinned at him; then glared at the car in front of us that had suddenly decided to slow down for no apparent reason.

"Oh, Eric … I hope—really hope—you don't think of me as a sister--cause that would be just too weird, considering some of the thoughts that have been passing through my head lately!" He stared at me for a moment; and then burst out laughing.

"Good point. Don't worry; I think we both have enough siblings, anyway." I glanced over at him, a wry grin on my face.

"Don't remind me; just wait until you meet my sister. Ever wonder what a version of me—without all of the 'stick-in-the-mud' tendencies—would be like? That's 'C2" … and God help us when you two meet!"

"C2?" he asked in a puzzled voice. I chuckled.

"Sorry … our family nickname for Cheryl Cameron, my younger sister. We all call her 'C2'—possibly a prayer that there is never a 'C3' –- indeed, I've taken certain steps to make sure my niece, Lizzy, doesn't turn out like her!"

Eric turned again in his seat to face me. We were only a few miles away from the state beach here in Seaside Park, the town surrounding it that we'd entered a while back. I headed for the main entrance, hoping beyond hope that we'd find a decent place to park that wasn't a long trek away from the sand and water.

"Okay; two questions … why are you afraid of me meeting her … and what kinds of 'steps' do you mean in regards to your niece?"

I gave him an exaggerated shrug, trying to hide the glint in my eyes … but knowing he'd see it—as well as the change in my voice pattern. He was maddeningly good at doing that, already … making it harder to slip things past him.

"Well, dear … between her crazy mental insane outlook on life—and your 'sneaky, underhanded' ways … trust me, it's not a mix anyone who knows you two wants to see—hey, stop it! Still driving here!" He'd reached over to tickle my side, or at least try to … before I moved out of range with a laugh. "And as for Lizzy, well; I'm her favorite aunt, I give her the best presents at Christmas, take up for her with her sometimes too-strict dad … and plus, I gave her a stern talk about the subject; with plenty of threats--including physical violence--if she started taking on Cheryl's … less than savory character traits. But I'm sure you'd know more about that than I!"

He'd crossed his arms during my little speech, after I'd fended off his tickling attempt … and now he looked as if steam would be coming out of his cute ears before too much longer. I smiled beatifically at him, which only seemed to make his expression worse. It was all I could do not to laugh, as we pulled into the park and I followed the road to the parking lots.

"You know what? Just for that, I'm going to make it my business to forge an alliance with your sister; and once we've driven you nuts with it, we'll proceed to the second part of my evil plan—which is to turn your niece against her 'favorite' aunt; replaced, I think, by … ME!" Now it was my turn to glare and steam at him.

"You … no way, no how; pal! If you know what's good for you, you'll put that plan back into the evil recesses of that sick mind of yours—pronto! And there's no way you'll turn Lizzy against me—she loves her Aunt Alison!"

He was quiet for a moment, thinking his evil thoughts, no doubt … and then he turned to me with a grin I'd last seen on a Jack O'Lantern at Halloween.

"Not even if I find out what her favorite things are—and buy them for her? She's a teenager, right? Well, what teenager can resist a handsome, mild-mannered doctor who—to her, at least—is flush with cash; and who's perfectly willing to spend lots on her?"

I found a decent parking spot a few hundred yards away from the beach, and switched off the engine. Turning to him, I gave him what I hoped was my most disgusted look … even with the laughter I knew I couldn't hide from my eyes for our little 'game'.

"You … evil man! You'd corrupt a poor, innocent, sweet teenage girl--just to get back at me! And you wonder why I call you sneaky and underhanded!"

We'd both unsnapped our seat belts and exited the car. I stared at him over the hood … shaking my head.

"Yep." Somehow, his one-word answer was enough, and I faked throwing my keys at him as I opened the rear passenger door, placing my purse in the backpack I'd stored behind the seats. Pointing at the picnic basket that I'd just uncovered by pulling off the blanket I'd used to surprise Eric with it, I growled at him.

"Make yourself useful, Satan … and grab our picnic lunch—and try not to melt it with the hellfire coursing through your veins, huh?"

As I rolled up the blanket, slipping it under my arm … Eric studied the basket for a moment with a little smile on his face, before retrieving it from the back seat door on his side, and hefted it. Adjusting his sunglasses underneath his cap, he stepped away from the car, facing the path towards the beach and waves … holding out a hand to me as I came around to him from my side of the car, making sure the doors were locked as I went.

Smiling up at him, I took his hand, and we padded off down the sand and grass path towards the beach. I breathed a small sigh of relief; there didn't seem to be nearly as many people as I thought there would be out here today.

"You packed us a picnic lunch?" I shook my head, giggling.

"Not 'packed', sweetie--purchased. From this great place downtown, that sells them either pre-packaged, or special-ordered. I was lucky enough to get one specially made; there are sandwiches in there, along with cold tea, brownies … all the fixings. I thought our first picnic should be a special one." I stretched up to kiss his cheek as we walked along. He smiled at our touch; he always did, whenever we were in close contact with each other.

"It is, Alison—but not just because of the great food you got; just being here with you is enough for me. I couldn't think of a better way to spend such a great day." He looked around, his face relaxing even more as I watched him … obviously a 'kindred spirit' in our love of beaches and water. Remembering his hesitancy this morning when I'd first suggested the idea, I thought maybe he wasn't much for spending the day at the beach. I was so glad to be wrong.

"Me, too, sweetie. Come on—let's find a good place to sit and eat, and then I'll take you exploring."

We looked around, both noticing a grove of shade giving young trees fairly close to the beach … separating it from other parts of the state park we were in. Without a word spoken, we headed off in that direction. There were more and more people arriving by the minute, so we quickened our pace to what looked like a perfect spot; a few dozen yards away from the edge of the water, surrounded by trees … and somewhat private; at least, as far as this beach was "private".

There was a nice patch of grass and sand right underneath one of the trees, and I started to spread our blanket out for us, as Eric took a long look around. There were mostly families and couples around; no one seemed to be paying us much attention, or looked as if they were too inquisitive about a mixed couple among them. Once I'd gotten the blanket spread out, I plopped down on it … making room for Eric beside me as we faced the water, the sunlight glittering off of the crashing waves; instantly relaxing both of us. We took some time just getting used to our surroundings; I'd been here several times before, as I'd said to Eric … but this seemed to be his first time.

"You didn't know about this, huh?" I asked … our shoulders touching as we stretched both pairs of legs toward the ocean … the food and drink forgotten for the moment, still sitting in the basket by his side.

"Nope," he answered, looking around. "Never even knew this park was here, as a matter of fact. I guess you know more about the lay of our 'fellowship' land, than I do". I shook my head.

"I wouldn't quite say that; I generally stay pretty much in Princeton and the area around it; I found this place on one of my longer, exploring drives."

He gave me a wicked grin. "'Out 'trolling' for men, huh?" I laughed, nodding happily—to his surprise.

"You caught me out—I'd track a hunk down, strap him to the hood of my sensible, efficient sedan, and haul him back to my place—where unspeakable things sometimes ended up happening!" I'd scooted closer to him, and now laid my head on his shoulder as we talked. His strong arms were propped up behind him; supporting both of us, as I took the opportunity to be in contact with him. He nuzzled the side of my head with his cheek, and I sighed in happiness.

"No wonder you'd drag yourself in to the office sometimes; looking like someone who'd been out all night!"

"I'll have you know, Mr. Foreman, that I've never 'dragged myself' into the offices—wait, well, there was that morning I had trouble getting out of my 'Catwoman' suit…" We both chuckled. I slid one arm around his waist, idly rubbing my now bare toes against his legs.

"We have great shade here, hon--this is a perfect spot!" I could tell he was getting even more into the idea of a day at the beach, and I smiled. I wanted him to love this as much as I did; my family has a long history with the sea, and I sometimes think that I would have followed my brother Frank into the Navy; if I hadn't wanted to be a doctor so much.

I wouldn't have gotten as far as he has, though … the Navy being what it is for women.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a group of kids splashing around in the waves, accompanied by their parents. They were so carefree--laughing, taking turns pushing each other into the water. There was even a small girl with them who couldn't have been more than seven or eight … and who was presently riding on the shoulders of her dad—trying to avoid being pushed into the water, along with his 'passenger', by the other kids. Eric and I laughed when she launched her tiny legs and feet into kicks towards any of her brothers or sisters who got too close.

"She looks so cute; can you believe how much hair she's got? She can't be more than eight!" Eric told me, nodding towards the group.

"I want to find out whatever her mom uses on her hair; that kind of growth demands some kind of medical study…" I replied in a wry voice … bringing more laughter from him.

"Think you'll have one like her someday?" I glanced at him, and then back towards the beautiful little girl … who by now had gotten entirely soaked; and as a result, was laughing her head off. Sighing, I leaned closer to him. "I hope so."

"Before or after you make Head of Immunology?" he continued, casting a grin in my direction. I shrugged.

"Don't know. I'll have to see how my guy--who by then will be on his way to becoming Head of Neurology--feels."

He was quiet for a few moments … our sudden 'multilayered chat' leading both of us into some serious contemplation of the future.

"I think … that he'd say that family is very important to him, and that family would take precedence over career; so the timing would be based on that; rather than promotions."

It was my turn to quietly think about what was being said.

"She'd definitely agree; she wants her own family, too. She just wants them to share everything--including these types of decisions." We nodded at the same time … glancing with smiles at each other.

"Well … he'd want the same thing. Especially since he thinks she's such a great decision-maker, and trusts her judgment."

I was careful not to look at him as I asked, "He does?" Eric nodded.

"Totally. After all … her hands were the ones he put his life into."

I swallowed a few times, trying to get some moisture into my throat. I didn't know if I could actually say what I wanted to say next; unless I stayed within our "oblique" way of speaking. I cleared my suddenly-dry throat a few times, carefully not looking in his direction.

"She never told him this, but … she was scared out of her mind; afraid of making a mistake that would take him away from her. She … doesn't think she would have survived that."

The single tear that rolled down my cheek fell from my face, onto his shorts … leaving a dark dot on the light cargo shorts he wore. He wrapped an arm around me, drawing me tightly against him. I closed my eyes, fighting off the too-close tears I could feel coming. I listened to his deep, quiet voice come from his chest, where my head lay.

"He knows … he knows how scared she was. He saw it in her eyes, right before he went under for the biopsy. He wanted to tell her then that everything would be OK, but there wasn't enough time. He also knows that … if things hadn't gone well … that she would have survived. She's one of the strongest, toughest people he knows." He began rocking me, slowly, in his arms.

My eyesight was blurry as I looked around for something to focus on; something I could re-channel my emotional flow onto. Finding the beach-combing family again a little further down the shore, I watched them in silence for several minutes … looking to regain some inner control, before I spoke again.

"So many things, so many … possibilities, were given back to her; when he came back to her."

He sat still for a moment, and then spoke. "Strange", he answered. "He was just thinking the same thing. Does she think that's a good sign for the future?"

I suddenly decided that this, somewhat offbeat conversation—as pleasing as it's been—needed to come to an end.

"She does—definitely." I giggled, deciding to find another subject to latch on. "Are you hungry?" I started to reach across his body for the food basket, when I let out a yelp … suddenly feeling myself lowered to the blanket, with two soft, warm lips attaching themselves to a spot underneath my ear.

"Mmmm … baby …" I whispered in his ear, so close to my own mouth that I couldn't resist nuzzling it, breathing against its' soft/hard ridges—getting a moan in reply. I felt him throw a leg over mine, as one of my hands ran over the hard muscular chest back underneath his t-shirt … while my other arm cradled his head.

He laid a hand on my stomach, tracing circular patterns over my sundress … as we lay there, enjoying the feel of each other's bodies. I shivered against him when he whispered, "yes, I'm hungry, love …" knowing, as well as I knew my own name … that he wasn't just referring to the food in our basket.

Unfortunately, we were on a public beach, in sight of at least thirty people … and it wasn't nighttime …

Once my body's shivers stopped, I slowly sat up … with Eric's hand in my lap, as I glanced down at him with a tinge of regret on my face … matching what I felt at that moment in my heart. Reaching over and pulling the basket closer to me, I started exploring the contents—taking out a large, wrapped sandwich with an "E" on it, and handing it to him with a smile, along with a paper cup. Once I'd found my sandwich (tuna fish with celery chunks on multigrain bread) and a cup for me, I pulled out the container of iced tea … filling our cups.

By then, he'd sat up as well … stretching his long legs out in front of him again; watching me like an audience watches a magician on stage … while starting to open his lunch.

I almost laughed out loud at the way Eric tore off the foil wrapping around his giant sandwich--glancing at me, once he saw what kind it was. Taking a bite out of my own, I watched his eyes with pleasure, as they lit up at the sight of the hot pastrami (with extra mustard) he liked so much.

Giving me another look of pleasure and thanks, Eric went right into devouring his lunch, while I maintained a more "civilized" pace of eating. Even though my sandwich tasted wonderful--with the right amount of celery mixed in with the fresh tuna salad, I wanted to do to it what Eric was doing to his sandwich.

Appearances, though, must be maintained; I thought to myself with a grin … one of us had to look civilized to the rest of the world.

"What are you grinning about, Alison?" was the first thing my companion had said in a while … having busied himself with stuffing his handsome face in the meantime. I rolled my eyes, swallowing a bit of celery and tuna.

"I am not smiling—I'm eating, Eric. There are significant physiological differences between those two acts, you may remember from med school!"

He threw me a look that said, "Duh!"

"I know that, Alison … don't be a smartass. I can tell when you're smiling about something—I see it in your eyes. You can't hide it from me, so fess up. And don't tell me it's because your sandwich is better-tasting than mine, cause I just don't think that's possible." I watched him drop a particularly large piece of pastrami, smothered in mustard … down into his waiting mouth—like some kind of seal at Disneyworld. Shaking my head at him, I took a sip of tea … glaring over the lip of my cup.

"The way you're eating that sandwich is cause enough for laughter, pal … I'm surprised the whole beach isn't pointing at you, and giggling their heads off. I guess we were taught better manners back in Naperville. Hey-I have an idea! Why don't you make some seal sounds while you're doing that … you know, entertain the kids so that they won't be afraid of you eating them!" I was laughing for real, by the time I'd finished my little speech … while Eric just sat there beside me, glaring.

"Oh, veryyyy funny! Just because I'm not afraid to eat good food with gusto—unlike some people I could name—doesn't mean I should be ridiculed in public! And another thing, I—wait, hon, you have some tuna on your cheek…" I immediately stopped eating, and started to reach up to brush the food off … when he struck.

One of his fingers flashed to my sandwich, scooping out a portion of the tuna (the sandwich was particularly stuffed with it, to my delight), and then he smeared it across my cheek … grinning like a Cheshire cat all the while.

"ERIC!" I shrieked, setting my tea down to grab a napkin to wipe the wet, gooey tuna off, almost dropping the rest of my sandwich in the process. "You … this … I'm going to …" I was so surprised, and flustered, I couldn't get any coherent words out. The tuna left a wide swath across my cheek, and I could already feel the mayo start to dry against my skin.

"Whole sentences, love … and take your time—it's important to form descriptive sentences when speaking." Eric said in a dry, normal voice … tinged with laughter at the state he'd put me in. Not that I especially minded having food thrown at me, mind you … it was just the insufferable look on his face that I couldn't take.

Wetting some of the napkins from a bottle of water I'd included in the basket, I carefully cleaned my face … meeting Eric's gaze with a languid, easygoing smile. Rather than immediately retaliating, as I was sure he was expecting … I decided to let him suffer a little bit … by confusing him with my reactions.

"Oh oh ," he whispered to himself … no doubt seeing the murderous intent in my eyes--that didn't quite match the smile on my face--as I looked at him.

"Alison", he began, "I was just playing around. You're not mad, are you?" Good—he was having trouble 'reading' me. This was going to be fun.

I quietly sat next to him, calmly picking up and finishing the rest of my sandwich, along with my tea. I could feel him getting more and more nervous beside me with each passing minute, and it took all my concentration not to let him see how much I was laughing—on the inside. I didn't even meet his nervous glances, instead watching the water, sand, and people strolling past our picnic site.

"Are you even speaking to me? I'm sorry, Alison … I was just joking around--I didn't mean to upset you." He really sounded contrite, and I almost decided to forget about the holy wrath I had planned for Eric Foreman, M.D.

Almost.

Deciding to confuse him even further, I leaned over and kissed his cheek … noting with satisfaction the stiff way he held his face for me to kiss, along with the desire to bolt I saw in his eyes.

"Everything's fine, dear," I told him, turning back to the ocean. "You were just playing around." I was reaching into the basket again, pausing to look over at him with a smile. "Would you like a brownie?"

"Um … sure. That's be great." I nodded, went back to the basket … quietly twisting off the caps on two bottles of water as I pretended to be searching for the brownies … which were packed in a plastic container at the bottom of the basket.

"Need some help?" I quickly shook my head. "Nope—just getting a couple out here …"

The next second, I'd grabbed the now opened bottles, and suddenly spun around … pushing his baseball cap off, pouring the water from both bottles over his head—squeezing them in my hands to get more water pressure directed at him.

"Hey!" He tried to shield his head with his hands, so I shifted the bottles … pointing their openings directly at his face. In a couple of seconds, he was drenched from head to waist. Even his cargo shorts hadn't avoided the deluge, I noticed … as I rolled in laughter.

I stretched out on the blanket facing him, grabbing his cap and putting it on … all the while still laughing my head off as he glared down at me. Then, he slowly started to take his wet shirt off, showing his muscled chest, back, and arms as he spread out the shirt to dry in the sun.

I wasn't paying much attention to the shirt, though, because this was the first time I'd ever seen Eric completely shirtless. My sister had a word for the … very pleasing, appealing sight in front of me.

Yum.

His skin, wet from the water, glistened under the angled rays of the sun as he stretched around himself, making sure the shirt was spread completely out—and in the process, his muscles rippled underneath his skin. I could still see the IV marks on his lower arms, and even a couple of places where monitoring sensors had been attached to his chest. The hair on his chest was perfectly proportioned; not too much, and not too hairy. I could also see a couple of older scars on his upper torso, idly wondering what had caused them. They were obviously several years old--probably from his childhood.

His athletic, sleek chest … with well-defined stomach, and arm muscles … brought me up short. I found myself regretting not ever "accidentally" bursting into the men's locker room, to see him change clothes.

"Handsome" was just the start of describing this man. He was also, to me … gorgeous, and very, very sexy.

Getting to know him all over again these past few weeks made him even more so, in my eyes.

"You know you're in trouble now, don't you?"

His sudden voice shook me out of my mental wool-gathering. "What?" I asked, confused.

"Not even being as beautiful as you are will save you, either. My retribution will be a terrible thing to behold!"

I love that he thinks I'm beautiful, and tells me so easily. I've heard that from many guys—not that I'm bragging—and after a while, you can just tell who's sincere, and who isn't. Laughing with him, while shoving his leg … I prop my head in my hand, held up by an elbow … as I stretch out beside him, still enjoying the sight of him. My hands move back and forth over my sundress, smoothing out kinks and wrinkles.

He sat Indian-style, just a couple of inches away from me … when he decided to start exploring the basket that had somehow survived our recent shenanigans. I watched him smile when he discovered the container of brownies, pulling it out along with the rest of the tea. Locating our cups, he refilled them, and then opened the container of brownies … handing one gigantic piece to me, along with my cup. I smiled my thanks, and then we both took bites.

Moaning in delight (yes, both of us!), we watched each other devour the incredibly soft and rich brownies. Once we were finished, he looked down at me, and grinned.

You look good in that cap, dear. Must be getting hot in that dress, though … are you going to keep it on all day? I know you're wearing a bathing suit …" he paused, his eyes slowly running down my body. It excited me, because I wanted him to look. I wanted to see what was in his eyes when he looked at me … especially the way he was looking at me right now.

I sat up, slowly removing his cap from my head. Leaning close to him, I breathlessly asked, "Give me a hand?" I watched, grinning on the inside, as his Adams apple bobbed up and down a few times before he silently nodded.

Turning away from him, I started reaching for the back zipper of the dress—when his hand arrived. He slowly unzipped me, and I gathered up the flows and length of my dress … slowly pulling it up past my body, and then over my head … shaking out my hair after I'd lifted the sundress clear. Carefully folding it, I laid it next to his drying shirt … all the while feeling his eyes roam over my body.

I wore my newest bathing suit, a black one-piece outfit that didn't look as "matronly" as it sounded. It had a plunging dip in the back where it reached my waist … while it hugged and supported me in all the right places. I loved the way it made me look, from the first time I tried it on in the store.

From Eric's sudden indrawn breath beside me, I got the feeling he did, too.

"Oh, great, just great …" he groaned. I looked around us, thinking he'd caught sight of House coming in our direction. "What?" I asked him, in a panicked voice …getting ready to quickly slip the dress back on, while at the same time looking at him to see what had caught his attention. He was staring at me, and shaking his head.

"Now I'm going to have to fight every guy here, once they see you … I'll be back in the hospital before nightfall!" All this he said in a mournful, resigned voice … while I just looked in his eyes, smiling (and blushing). He was grinning at me like an idiot—or like someone who'd just told the world's greatest joke. That's what was on his face, and on his lips.

His eyes, though, held different thoughts.

Our gazes locked on each other's … and not for the first time, I was doing something that was fast becoming a favorite pastime: being with him, and looking into his eyes … while he looked back into mine. We were quickly getting to the point where our subliminal communication was as much a part of our interaction--if not more--than our verbal and physical ways of 'speaking".

Like any extremely close couple, we were discovering that we had so many different levels of sharing our thoughts and feelings with the other person; helping to draw us even closer, as time passed. At this rate, we'd be telepathic before another week was gone.

The whole idea was a … revelation to me. As well as being brand new, in many ways.

None of my other relationships with men had gotten this far … this, deep … before Eric.

And … we still hadn't made love.

I couldn't begin to imagine what that would be like … considering the strength of the connection that had already formed between us.

As much as I suspected others might try to pigeonhole our relationship as being based mostly on the physical attraction we obviously had for each other, though … we both knew there was so much more between us.

If I ever doubted that … all I needed to do was to look in Eric's eyes, to see the truth of us.

I smiled at him, then … a slow, easy smile that filled my entire face … as I saw the same things in his eyes. I also watched a matching smile appear on his dark, handsome face, along with those dimples I loved so much.

Before we could drift into another one of our "locked gazes" moments, I looked at my watch.

"Has it been an hour since we got here—can I start teasing and making fun of you again?" He tilted his head, still watching me with a look I've come to interpret as his "what do you think, Alison?" – or is it the "do I have any choice in the matter, Alison?" look; it's hard to tell, sometimes.

Shaking his head at me while brushing some errant, wind-blown strands of hair out of my face … he grinned, and then turned to watch some kids toss a football back and forth. I watched as his face kept his grin, enjoying the sight of the kids playing in front of us.

There was a large group of about ten or eleven kids, both boys and girls … with a few adults in the mix. The youngest looked about eight or nine, and the oldest in his late teens. They were having a blast; laughing and needling each other about who threw the best, or farthest, or whatever competitive issue they could latch onto. Sitting beside Eric, with my legs stretched out in front of me … I was in the process of laying my head on his shoulder, when an errant throw came our way. Eric immediately leaned in front of me, protecting me from the certain hit I would have taken if he hadn't. Catching the ball easily in a spray of sand, he immediately turned to me.

"You OK?" I nodded.

"Thanks to you, dear … I almost didn't see that coming."

"I barely saw it, myself." Before he could continue, one of the older kids ran up to collect the ball … apologetic.

"God, I'm really sorry. It didn't hit you guys, did it? Jerry can't throw at all—sorry about that!" He looked about 13 or 14, easily one of the older kids in the group. Eric looked up at him.

"We're good. You guys need to be a little more careful; not everyone's going to be paying attention to what you kids are doing." He was direct, but friendly … getting a nod of agreement from the kid in front of us.

"We know … and I'm really sorry. Hey—why don't you come toss it around with us? I mean—if you're not busy, or anything …" and then he glanced at me before returning to Eric's face. Eric looked as if he was going to refuse, when I decided to push him a little. Some exercise would be good for him.

"Go ahead, sweetie … I'm going to read my book, and marvel at your prowess with the pigskin from afar." I started to reach for my backpack, where I'd packed the paperback.

"You're sure? Why don't you come with me?"

"Yeah, come with him, lady … it'll be fun!" The kid was quite the salesman, if enthusiasm was all you needed. I shook my head at both of them, and then held out my hand.

"We haven't been introduced," I told him, giving Eric a reproving look, "I'm Alison, and this is Eric. What's your name?" He gave us both a gigantic grin.

"Wow, cool--my name's Eric, too! It's nice to meet you guys—are you married?" We were thrown by the question; pausing with both our mouths hanging slightly open … and glancing between each other.

"Um, well … no," Eric finally answered. "She's my girl." Eric (the Younger) nodded, intently studying both of us. I was processing the "she's my girl", when the kid added to my state of slight confusion.

"Well, you guys look like you're really close … I'm sure you'll get married soon," he said, tossing the ball back and forth … watching us, while the other kids screamed at him to return to their game.

I shook my head to clear it, and then nudged Eric. "Go ahead, 'fiancé' – show 'em how it's done. I'm gonna stay here and watch, while I get some color in me." Eric (the Elder) nudged me back, giving me what looked like his "we'll talk later!" look, as he scrambled to his feet—removing his sandals, and taking his baseball cap that I was holding up to him … slipping it on.

"Nice meeting you, Eric; don't keep him for the rest of the day, OK? I miss him pretty fast when he's not around."

"I will—I mean, I won't, ma'am…um, I meant to say, we won't keep him that long," Eric the Younger stuttered. His new namesake friend patted him on his shoulder, laughing. "Don't be nervous, Eric—she has the same effect on me. Come on—let's go! Your friends are getting rowdy." I waved as they both moved off … throwing Eric a kiss when he looked over his shoulder at me before they were both surrounded by kids. I could see the introductions being made, and then they spread out over the sand … tossing the football back and forth between them. Some of the adults meandered over to where Eric stood; more introductions and handshakes followed, with Eric pointing in my direction a few times. I received a few more waves from our new acquaintances, and returned them as I watched Eric.

He dropped a few passes sent his way, at first … shaking his head each time, as if he was frustrated with himself. His throws were, for the most part, on target. I wondered if his spatial recognition issues were still affecting him; it seemed obvious that he thought they were. Still, he was boisterous and friendly with the kids; calling them by name, while giving some of the younger ones tips on throwing a proper spiral. He was a patient, encouraging teacher; kneeling next to the younger, shorter kids in order to show them good throwing and catching techniques … laughing and joking with them all the while. As time went on, he was getting more and more popular; some other kids had joined the group from other parts of the beach … and before too long, an impromptu game had started—with Eric at quarterback for both sides.

Adding to the "official' feel of the game was the fact that most of the parents were congregated in a sort of "fan area" … cheering each catch, move, and play from the kids—who seemed to be having a ball. I was astounded at the way Eric conducted the game; he would stop play in order to show a kid something new to learn, or if there was an unintentional collision (I heard him insist on a "touch" game; since several girls were playing, too) … or to break up one or two skirmishes that occasionally broke out.

His throws, and catches, became more crisp and natural as the game wore on; he was getting quite a workout as the permanent quarterback/referee/coach/constable. Barely a half hour since starting, I couldn't see any struggles with his spatial recognition; when a kid (or one of the parents) threw the ball back to him, he always caught it—even if it was poorly thrown. The kids all seemed to respond to him in the same way; they listened when he spoke, and followed his directions with barely a disagreement. A few kids stayed close to him throughout the game; including a couple of girls who watched him in awe; giggling most of the time. I smiled to myself, shaking my head … remembering how I'd been at that age--when there was a cute boy anywhere within a light year of where I happened to be at the time.

I laughed and cheered the most for this one girl … one of the youngest kids, who really wanted to play with the rest—despite the ridicule she got from some of the older kids. Barely four feet tall; she was slim, shy, and reserved. She was also very determined, however, and Eric noticed it right away. He paid special attention to her--teaching her how to catch the ball without getting hurt, guiding her through some simple receiver patterns, and generally encouraging her. He made good use of her in the game, too--sending her on (mostly) screen passes that she caught (most of the time), and gained quite a bit of ground by showing good speed, and some pretty nifty moves. Before too long, she had quite a few of the kids cheering her receptions … along with many of the parents and spectators, as well. For me, though … as much as I enjoyed watching her and the rest of the kids—watching Eric around them was much more enjoyable … and very revealing. I could very easily imagine how he would someday be with his own kids. It made me feel … very proud, and happy, to see him like this.

I think I cheered him as much as I did any kid on the beach that day.

The games went on for another half hour or so; until some of the parents called their kids back to their spots for sunscreen touchups, or to eat, drink, and rest. None of the kids left before coming over to Eric and talking with him for a minute or two, before running off to rejoin their parents; most of them having introduced themselves to Eric as well … shaking his hand while chatting with him. Finally, he trudged back to our spot … sweat glistening all over his chest and head. I watched him, smiling, as he collapsed beside me … gratefully taking the bottle of water I handed him, taking long sips before dousing himself with the last third of the water in the bottle.

"You OK there, Peyton Manning?" I asked him, laughing. He stretched out next to me, laying on his chest … his head turned towards me with a grin.

"I looked good out there, didn't I?" I smirked, patting him on his wet back.

"Sure did. I think you should hook up with a pro team, make millions of dollars, while also adoring and taking care of me in worship for the rest of my life." He burst out in chuckles, partially muffled by his arms as he rested under the lengthening rays of the late afternoon sun.

"I knew it! It's always about what the superstar can do for his 'trophy' girlfriend, isn't it? I ask you—where is the love?"

"You'll see 'the love' on the days the paychecks come in, mister!" I mock-groused at him.

"Figures. So—are you going to just sit on your magnificent butt all day--or will you actually move off of this blanket at some point?"

"Hey—watch it! I got tired just watching you for the past hour! Especially with you 'flirting' with every girl within range—what have I told you about that?"

"Can I help it, if my public adores me?" he whined, good-naturedly.

"You're gonna be outside, sleeping with your 'public' tonight--if you don't start behaving!"

He lifted his head a little, looking up at me with a sorrowful look on his face.

"You are a mean woman, Alison Cameron. I don't know what it is I see in you."

"Other than the fact that you know you love me?" I raised both eyebrows at him … daring him to deny it.

"Other than that--yes." We were both laughing by then. Leaning over him, I kissed the back of his neck, right where it met his shoulders … a few inches away from his biopsy scar. Putting my book aside, I placed both hands on his shoulders, starting a slow massage. His skin was slick from exertion and the sun, but didn't seem to be any darker than usual. I guessed that he could stay out in the sun without worrying about his skin tone appreciably changing. Moving my hands in circles as my fingers worked over his muscled back, shoulders, and neck … I heard him sigh in pleasure.

"To answer your earlier question; you're going to lay here with me and rest for a while, and then I thought we'd take a walk later … if you want. You haven't seen the rest of the beach, sweetie, and there's lots to see here. Are you hungry—would you like the last sandwich?"

"Mmm … no, thanks. A walk sounds good to me, honey; just give me a half hour or so, and I'll be ready. Any brownies left?" In answer, I reached into the container I'd pulled out earlier--knowing as much as I do about Eric's sweet tooth, his asking for one of those, instead of real food didn't surprise me much. I took one of the last brownies, and handed it to him … before returning to his massage.

"Thanks, Alison … man, that feels so good …" He leaned over and kissed the leg closest to him; in return, I brushed my fingers across his earlobe … knowing how sensitive he was there. He lay there, watching the water, nibbling on his brownie … until I finished a few minutes later. Twisting around to match his position, I settled next to him … laying my head on his shoulder. My feet and toes found his, and we started another one of our foot "dance/massages".

"This was a great idea—coming here, Alison," Eric told me. "I've had the best time, and the day's only half done!" I smiled at the pleasure and relaxed tone in his words; so happy that he was in such good spirits. He's been doing so well since leaving the hospital, but this was the first time I think he let himself completely relax.

Smiling, I changed the subject on him. "You looked wonderful with those kids, darling. I loved watching you play with them, and teach them--you looked so natural, I'm sure you're going to be a great father when you're ready." Watching his face glow from my words, I knew then that he'd been thinking about much the same thing.

"They're great, those kids. Very rowdy at first, but they really got into the game, once we started. And Maggie—that was the girl who was being teased, and followed me around—" he turned to look at me to see if I knew which kid he was referring to, and I nodded, "she's just … so vulnerable and sensitive. So shy, she hardly spoke at all. But, man, she really wanted to play. I just had to help her out. She became my little 'option' out of the backfield, too—she must have caught ten of those passes in a row!" He started laughing. "When she showed everybody how fast she really was, they gave her more room—which made it easier for me to throw to her--I loved it!"

While I was listening to him, I'd gotten myself a brownie myself … not being able to resist, once Eric asked for one. I knew I'd have to walk or run it off, too -- before it settled on my hips.

"Speaking of throws," I began, "it seemed like you were having some trouble at first; judging the ball's position. Then it seemed to … go away?" I tried to keep my voice as neutral as possible, but Eric knew what I was asking him.

He nodded, and swallowed a couple of times before speaking. "Yeah. Everything looked like it was five feet farther away from me, at first. It was really getting to me; I almost stopped playing. Then, things settled down, and suddenly I 'got the range back', I guess. I don't know--increased metabolic rate, along with heightened blood flow to the brain … might indicate there's some blockage somewhere …" He shook his head, the mood of just a few minutes before dissipated.

I shook my head, as well, throwing an arm around his broad shoulders, hugging him tighter. "Eric, we X-rayed, CAT and PET--scanned you a couple of times each while you were sleeping. We didn't find any indication of inhibited blood flow anywhere in your brain. We had the 'gunslinger' Cuddy called in on your case go over the tests, too … along with our own neurology people—as well as Chase, Cuddy, Wilson, me, and House himself. Nothing. Couldn't it just as easily be some kind of … synaptic readjustment of the nerves around the biopsy area? You haven't had any memory issues, or marked changes in personality, right? I think you're fine, and doing just great. God was listening to me, when I asked Him to look out for you."

He turned to look at me.

"You … prayed for me, Allison? You've always, um … kind of made your feelings on that subject known …"

I played with the sand in front of us, drawing patterns in the almost white crystals of the beach. This wasn't a subject that I felt particularly comfortable discussing, even with him—for lots of reasons.

"I know, I know, Eric … but I was spending a fair amount of time in the chapel, keeping your dad company. I guess I found some measure of peace for myself there, along the way. A couple of times, your dad asked me to pray with him—he's one of those men who's faith flows 'outward', you know what I mean. Anyway—", I shrugged, giving him a wry smile. "Blame your dad. I'm … not sure where I am with all of that, right now …" Eric took my hand in his, gently rubbing my knuckles.

"Believe me; I understand how you must be feeling. You can imagine the way I was raised, with religion being so prevalent in our house", he paused as I nodded, "but ever since med school, and then working for House … I just don't know. My dad and I had a couple of … conversations, about my present 'state', right after he arrived. They weren't particularly pleasant." Turning away from me, his eyes found the waves and the water in front of us again; his face carrying a look of pain. My first reaction was to try to take the pain away. I leaned closer, gently kissing his cheek.

"I'm sorry." He smiled, brushing a couple of fingers against my cheek.

"Don't be. It's OK. Dad and I are—cool, now. We had some good talks after I woke up—on the rare times you weren't there at my side!" He grinned again, nudging me as I rolled my eyes at him. "Actually, I think you helped there, too. He told me about the time you spent with him in the chapel, and the both of you getting to know each other a little bit. I suspect he came to understand why I'm where I am with that whole business, because of his experience with you. So … at the risk of sounding like a broken record—thanks--again".

I wasn't quite sure what he meant by his dad's "experience with me"; but I decided not to pursue it at the moment. I sensed that Eric wasn't interested in continuing down that particular vein, either. A change of subject was needed.

"So—did you get Maggie's number?" I asked, squeezing his bicep in what (I hoped) was a painful way. It was like trying to squeeze iron. On top of me almost breaking my fingers, Eric was chuckling.

"Nope—I remembered your 'older than two years old' rule—just in time, too. I didn't want to become a murder victim, cut down in the prime of my life!"

I playfully patted his head, causing both of us to chuckle. "Good man--smart fellow!" He pushed my hand off his skull.

After a couple of moments of easy silence, he whispered, "I only have room in my heart for you, girl."

Glancing at him, I felt tears come to my eyes again. Pulling him to me, we shared a long, deep kiss … at the end of which, he was practically lying on top of me. His hard, muscled chest brushed against the thin covering of the bathing suit I wore, making my nipples tingle. My breath caught in my throat, when our eyes met … and I saw the look of desire in his eyes. I watched as he lowered his mouth to mine again, and I felt my body rise to meet his … before we both slowly settled back down against the blanket.

I moaned into his mouth as he started exploring, slipping his tongue past my inviting, open lips … and then we started dancing inside each other's mouths, our tongues in a slow, passionate, ever-changing embrace. My hands ran up and down his back, past his shoulders to the back of his head … where I held him tight when it felt like he was getting too far away at times … I didn't want him to stop, didn't want him leaving my mouth ever. I was floating, flying … I couldn't even remember if I was breathing or not. Our kiss was that deep, that … complete.

I had no idea … I'd never felt someone else so completely through a kiss before. During it, I had no sense of time, except … the feeling of – permanence, of forever. It was … incredible.

My entire skin was tingling; my hair felt like it was vibrating against my skull. There was a distant sound of thunder in my ears; even though I knew that, if I opened my eyes, I wouldn't see any sign of a storm anywhere.

My body was relaxed against his, and I could feel one hand linger at his waist, where the top of his shorts brushed against my fingertips. Only the far-away sense of us still on a public beach … with people around … kept me from going further and finding the button and zipper I knew was there; like a barrier.

My hand was still resting there, when I felt him reluctantly start to leave my mouth … ending our kiss.

I groaned in protest; until he started to trail kisses down my chin, my throat, across my Adam's apple … his hot breath scorching my skin. Arching my back and neck, I gave him complete access … not wanting him to take his lips away from me at all. I felt one of his hands slide down my side, stopping at the point on my hip where my bathing suit stopped, and my bare leg began. Never stopping his lips from what they were doing, he slipped a couple of fingers underneath the fabric of the suit, massaging and kneading the skin there.

My own hands were still moving, as well … ending up close together on his lower back, just above his shorts where his spine curved upward and away … given his position on top of me. Deciding to go with my feelings, I let my hands slide lower, running over his shorts as I filled my hands with his sexy rear.

Keeping my eyes still closed at what his lips and kisses were doing to my neck and throat, I giggled when I felt him suddenly pause as he felt my hands on a part of him where I hadn't touched before. Instead of speaking, though, he moved his mouth over to one of the sensitive spots he'd already discovered; the back of my neck, where my collar met it. My sighs turned to moans as he proceeded to drive me crazy … with his soft lips, and flickering tongue.

I had no defense, and we both knew it.

All I could do was to hang on tightly to him, riding out the waves of delight and pleasure he was giving me; even though we weren't at home, in bed … with clothes no longer a consideration.

He kept going, until we reached a point where "no return" was the next bend in the road. He seemed to know where it was; knew the point where I would be reaching for him … knew just how far we could go before letting go …

… and I realized, in a small part of my mind not being buffeted by the storm of emotions and sensations flowing through my body … that I trusted him to lead us there—and to take us past, when we were ready. Oh, there were going to be times when I would be in the lead, instead of him; and I knew that he trusted me in the same way I did him; to guide us, and to control our pace.

I couldn't tell you, if you asked me, how I knew … just that I did.

And as I felt my body coming back to earth, coming to rest on our blanket … being supported by his arms, as I felt his hand brushing my hair away from my face … I slowly, very slowly, opened my eyes, to find him looking down at me … his fingers brushing my lips and cheek, trailing little bolts of electricity wherever they touched my skin.

We were both breathing heavily, trying to draw more oxygen from the heavy, salt-laden air of the ocean into our lungs as we lay there, looking into each other's eyes. My hands moved to either side of his head, caressing his face and gently wiping away the tiny beads of perspiration on his forehead, my eyes never leaving his.

His fingers were tracing patterns on my lower neck and collarbone, straightening one of my bathing suit straps that had twisted around in our previous … movements.

Laying there beside him, watching the reflections of the waves in his eyes, I heard him speak with a gentle, easy smile.

"Love you."

Tears began to slip from the corner of my eye, brushed away by one of his fingers … before I found enough breath to answer.

"Love you back."

The smile on my face matched his.

END OF CHAPTER 12