Work Text:
House looked at the toddler sitting at his piano. The kid almost looked at home there - almost. He actually thought the boy looked more at home with a book or a puzzle.
He knew next to nothing about this child other than his name and that he – House - was the boy's father. Though that seemed to be enough for him to want to spend time with the kid.
"Gregory," he called to the boy, "do you want to go out for dinner?"
The boy nodded at him, a bright smile that reminded him of Cameron on his face. He had half a mind to tell the boy to stop that.
"Where would you like to go?" he asked. Wait, he asked the kid what he wanted? Whose influence was that?
As it turned out, it didn't matter. The boy's response was an indifferent shrug.
"In that case, we're going to McDonald's."
The boy pulled a face at him.
He grunted. "Look kid, you're going to have to talk to me to get what you want."
The little boy chewed on his lip. "Pizza!" he exclaimed.
"Pizza it is." He pushed himself to his feet, cane nestled beneath his palm.
Pizza, running, bouncing and jumping, then, finally, sleeping, Gregory was laying on the couch with his head in House's lap, snoozing soundly. He brushed his fingers lightly over the boy's hair and realized that the strange tightness in his chest when the boy was around him was love. An unfamiliar feeling to him, but at the same time, a feeling he was interested in exploring further.
He even thought about calling Stacy to talk about the child they almost had. 'Let her know that he would have liked having a child with her to love and raise and mold in his image.