IF I FELL

CHAPTER ONE

"If I fell in love with you
Would you promise to be true
And help me understand
'cause I've been in love before
And I found that love was more
Than just holding hands

If I give my heart to you
I must be sure
From the very start
That you would love me more than Chase

If I trust in you oh please
Don't run and hide
If I love you too oh please
Don't hurt my pride like her
'cause I couldn't stand the pain
And I would be sad if our new love was in vain

So I hope you see that I
Would love to love you
And that she will cry
When she learns we are two

If I fell in love with you"

The soft, melodic tones of the song drifted to her ears as she stood frozen at the door. The deep, heart-felt voice that accompanied each key dug into her as if she were being stabbed. With every note – with every word – the knife twisted repeatedly into her flesh…deeper and deeper until it pierced her heart.

Was he singing to her? About her? The 'Chase' reference? Come on! Cameron wasn't stupid! Or was she?

Her heart stopped beating. Her fisted hand that was just inches from the door began to shake. She closed her eyes tightly and realized how ridiculous it had been to come here instead of going to see Chase. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and stared at the door, her fingers caressing the cold, painted wood as if it were House's chest. She turned and walked away from the door.

"Did you bring beer and pizza?"

Cameron stopped dead in her tracks, her face grimacing as she realized House had busted her of her un-scheduled visit. Turning around slowly, she finally faced her ex-boss. Her voice caught in the back of her throat. She was speechless.

Although it was only September, it wasn't chilly enough to be wearing what he had on: a thick, deep, rich blue turtleneck and navy slacks. He looked hotter than she'd ever seen him. He looked more irresistible than she'd ever expected.

"I…um…" Cameron stuttered.

"What? Pepperoni caught your tongue?" House smirked.

Taking a few more steps closer to the doorway she said meekly, putting her hand out to him, "I forgot to give this to you."

House looked down at her hand, frown lines appearing on his forehead, a thin, small smile slowly crossing his lips as he took it and read the label of the 45 record.

"How did you know…"

Cameron cleared her throat, interrupting his 'she knew he was going to ask' question. Wilson told me Hector ate your copy. It's mint condition. I was going to save it for Christmas but, uh, I won't be around."

He looked at her amazed – at her thoughtfulness, generosity and her stupidity. Just because of an unwarranted kiss she had the nerve to show up at his place, like she wanted something more? Or was she just being nice? He abhorred nice people. It made him feel he had to be nice, and he hated being nice.

"Thanks."

She smiled shyly at him. "You're welcome."

The two doctors stared at the other for several moments before Cameron said, "Well, good night." She turned and walked towards the steps to the walkway.

House stared at her blankly. She silently berated herself for being such a girl and regretted stopping by.

"Cameron, uh, we can always order pizza and I already have the beer," House offered, skewing his face as he regretted saying the words.

She took a few steps before what he'd said registered with her brain. She turned around and shook her head. "It's late. I have a lot of packing still to do."

"Then come here," House ordered.

Her head flung back and she instantly grew angry. She stormed closer to him, choosing just the right words to blast the man she'd wanted to tell off for three years.

"Look, House! I am no longer your…

Suddenly, House stepped back in the doorway, leaving Cameron's words hanging halfway out of her mouth. He left just enough room for Cameron to slip by him, if she was going to accept the invitation. She looked at him confused.

"Well, are you going to come in?" he asked impatiently.

"What makes you think…"

"Because if I didn't get you back up here then you would have gone home."

"That was the plan – still is," Cameron retorted.

"Come on. It'll take the pizza 20 minutes to get here, we'll eat; you immediately leave. Any harm in that?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "It depends on what you do," she challenged.

"What makes you think I'd do anything? Seems to me you are the aggressor with that kiss of yours."

In reality, to Cameron, anyway, it appeared that at that point in the game House was the one being the aggressor. He'd never asked her over, much less 'begged' her to stay for supper. The words of the tune he had played picked at her brain once more. What would she lose if she simply ate pizza with him? That's all he was asking anyway, right? He wasn't asking her to stay the night. He wasn't suggesting they sleep together. Just pizza. Pepperoni and cheese. What harm can pepperoni and cheese cause?

"Fine." She took a few steps into the living room of his apartment and stood nervously by the couch.

"What do you want?" House asked as he walked by her.

Reacting nervously, she jerked back and would have fallen over the arm rest of the couch if House hadn't caught her, yet he didn't immediately release his grip on her forearm, either.

"House! Didn't we just…"

"On your pizza, Cameron?! What do you want on your pizza?"

He stepped away from her, reached to the side table, grabbed the phone and waved it, indicating that was his true intention.

"Oh, um, anything but anchovies, pineapple, olives, sausage, green peppers, mushrooms…"

"Damn! What's left? I'm just getting a plain cheese. That should satisfy you."

Oh, if House only knew what those words meant to her. She berated herself for being so weak. She could do it. She could have a pizza with House – no more than an hour – without attacking him or returning his embrace.

"With pepperoni," she finally said.

He gave her a nasty look, hit a speed-dial number, placed his order then hung up the phone.

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"I don't know. Guess I've been working with you too long."

He eyed her for several seconds before he said, "Touché! Beer?"

She nodded her head and watched him walk into the kitchen before she sat down on the couch. He came back a moment later, handed her a beer, sipped his own before he sat down on the couch beside her – with ample room between them, of course.

"So, what do we do now?" House asked devishly.

His lips were around the head of the bottle taking another sip when Cameron looked at him. While his head was partially down, his eyes were drilling into hers and she swore holes were beginning to form in the back of her skull.

Before she realized what she was saying, she asked, "What were you playing before you, uh, answered the door?" Cameron was in deep now! She knew what the words were, and she knew the implications of them. But what she really wanted to know was if he meant them for her.

"Oh, you can't tell me you've never heard of the Beatles!"

"Of course I have! I just…don't remember the words."

Again, House eyed her suspiciously. He knew she was up to something, just as she had been when she'd kissed him in his office to fake him out drawing some of his blood.

"Sorry. I can't play on an empty stomach."

"Then I'll play it."

Cameron boldly stood, placed her beer on the coffee table, walked to the piano, sat on the bench, and began the first few chords of If I Fell.

"Isn't that how it goes, House?" She glanced over at him. He didn't answer her; he just eyed her in amazement. Without another word Cameron began again and played through the entire song. When she was done, she stood and returned to the couch, sitting after she grabbed her beer.

House looked over at her amused. He reached for his bottle of Vicodin, dropped two out into his palm, popped them in his mouth then took a sip from his beer; Cameron watched him the entire time.

"I'm impressed," he finally said.

"With what?" she asked nervously.

"You're quite good. Why didn't you…"

"You never asked."

Trumped by Cameron twice in one night. Oh, House was in for a long hour.

"You really don't know the words?" House asked.

House was relieved she didn't know the words because although he was singing it while he played, he had hoped that the words couldn't be heard through the door. It was a risk, he knew that, and it had paid off, apparently.

"What if I said yes?" Cameron asked after a long moment.

"Huh? Yes that you know the words or yes you don't know the words?"

"What if I said yes to the lyrics of the song?"

House's heart skipped a beat. The little minx had backed the Great Gregory House into a corner. He swallowed hard. Sweat began to form on his forehead.

"Beer?" he asked, hoping the switch in conversation would help derail where they were currently going.

"No. And yes."

House rolled his eyes and appeared genuinely irritated at Cameron beating around the bush. "Do you or do you not want another beer?"

Cameron smiled. And again, it irritated the hell out of House.

But Cameron had nothing to lose at that point. And she had him right where she wanted him. And she would get an answer from him – before she left…after the pizza, or right after sunrise.

"Uh, I have to go to the bathroom."

"Wow! Beer goes through you that fast?" House asked snottily.

She ignored his comment, though, stood and walked down the hall to the bathroom. She was singing:

"If I fell in love with you
Would you promise to be true
And help me understand
'cause I've been in love before
And I found that love was more
Than just holding hands…"

At hearing those words, House started to sweat bullets. She did know the words! Now all House had to do was figure out what his little Cameron was up to. He stared at the black TV and thought of what he was going to do, and what he was going to say. Words didn't come quickly enough for him. He flipped on the TV and flipped channels absent-mindedly.

A few minutes later Cameron walked back into the living room and plopped down beside House, a tad bit closer than they were sitting a few minutes earlier. House never took his eyes off of her as he absent-mindedly changed TV channels.

"What are you watching?" she asked.

"A mouse getting his ass kicked in his cage by a cat."

"Oh, I haven't seen that. How does it end?" she asked coyly.

Narrowing his eyes even further, trying to determine the cat's next pounce, he answered, "I don't know. It's up to the cat."

The door had just been opened.

"I was wondering when you'd catch on to me," Cameron said as she sipped her beer. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to guess wrong. I hate being wrong."

"You're never wrong."

"Maybe I have been."

Cat – 2; Mouse – 1

"Have been what? A jerk?"

"Not what I was thinking but good guess. What do you want, Cameron?"

She turned to face him, her left knee bent on the couch and touching House's right thigh. "Oh, sorry," she said sincerely.

They stared at each other for several long, crushing, agonizingly painful seconds.

"I want to know if…" Just as she paused to take in a deep breath the doorbell rang.

"…Pizza's here," Cameron said thankfully. Was she having second thoughts?

"Forget about the pizza. Finish."

Cameron stood, stuck out her hand and said, "I don't have money."

"Neither do I."

"Liar," she replied.

There was a loud knock on the door with several rings of the doorbell again.

House nodded his head to the side table by the door. "Side pocket – me, cripple; you, servant."

Cameron sighed heavily, walked to the door and opened it before she grabbed his wallet. She paid the delivery man, and with the pizza in one hand and wallet in the other she walked into the kitchen. House watched from the couch, not bothering to get up, thinking Cameron would bring him a plate.

Several cabinets opened and slammed, then silence then more silence. Cameron walked back into the living room with one plate of pizza, another beer and House's wallet in the other hand. She sat down, placed the plate on the coffee table, took a bite of pizza and opened his wallet to his driver's license.

"Where's mine?"

"Kitchen," Cameron answered with a mouthful of pizza.

Looking over his name on his driver's license, halfway through swallowing the bite, she started to choke. She pounded her chest a few times, cleared her throat and swallowed a small sip of beer.

"Theobald?" Cameron asked aghast. "Gregory Theobald House?"

"Yea! What's it to you?" he answered angrily as he stood, snatched the wallet from her hand, grabbed his cane and went into the kitchen.

A few minutes later he came back out and they both ate their pizza in silence. Cameron finished first, sat back against the couch, let out a loud, hearty burp and rubbed her stomach.

"For a little thing you sure are nasty."

"Thought you liked nasty?"

Cat – 3; Mouse – 1

"Now, tell me what you were going to say," House asked as he placed his plate on the coffee table.

"No. Too late. I'm full, tired and ready to leave."

"Oh, no you don't!" House admonished. "You came over here to give me the record and decided to stay. What is it you want from me, Cameron?"

Cat – 3; Mouse – 2.

"I wanted to know if…if there is any reason why I shouldn't leave N.J."

"None whatsoever," House answered rather quickly.

Disappointment crossed her face; sadness shone in her eyes; her shoulders drooped slightly noticeable; and a small smile crossed her lips. "I didn't think so," she said as she stood.

She walked to the front door, thanked House for the pizza and reached out for the door knob.

"But Cameron, I didn't say you had a good reason to leave me."

Cameron stared at the door not knowing what to do or what to think. She was afraid to turn around. She was afraid to look at him. The only time she couldn't look at him was when she took the amphetamines and was ashamed with herself for doing so.

"Where do we go from here, House?" she asked. Her voice was low, weak and timid.

"You said yes, right?"

She was confused for only a brief moment until she heard the piano drawing out its sad, melodic tune with House's voice singing:

If I trust in you oh please
Don't run and hide
If I love you too oh please
Don't hurt my pride like her
'cause I couldn't stand the pain…'

The music suddenly stopped. The bench at the piano squeaked; there was a light thump… silence…thump…

She felt his presence loom over her, like the smell of freshly cut grass first thing in the morning; a cooling rain in the late afternoons after a fierce thunderstorm; the musky smell of a man she'd desired – longed for – for three long years.

"Where do we start?" House asked.

His lips were just inches from her ear. Goosebumps erupted over her arms and down her back. She suddenly felt flushed. She also wanted to run out the door like a scared child, but she'd come over for a reason, and although she found her answer, she needed to know what came next. She felt his hands caress her shoulders and she closed her eyes tightly, asking herself over and over if it was all real.

It was.

The question was: Where do they start? The answer was: It didn't matter. It already had started. But the only drawback was: That could either be the best thing that ever happened to her, or the worst. The lovely wheels of fate were finally turning, and she was petrified of where it was going to stop.

Should she give in to him? Should she listen to her head instead of her heart?

"Shall we start here?" House asked, brushing his lips over the enclave of Cameron's neck but not kissing it.

His hands moved down her shoulders, pressing himself nearer her back, his heavy breath breathing down her neck. With his hands at her elbows, moving his head to the nape of her neck, pushing her ponytail away with his nose he asked, "Or maybe here?"

Bravery coursing through his veins, his bottom lip scooped up the flesh of her goose-pimpled neck. Cameron moaned softly. Without warning, he stepped back, leanED against his cane, six inches from her body and stared at her silently.

"House, why…why did you…"

"Because I wanted to…"

"…Why did you stop?" Building her own courage up, Cameron slowly turned and faced House.

"Because I want…" House began.

Her heart stopped again. She was sure she'd have a heart attack. "What do you want, House?" she asked shaken.

"I want…a Scotch."

Silently he turned and walked to his liquor table, poured a half glass, downed half of it before he turned back around and faced Cameron, who was still standing at the door.

"Enough with the games. I'm tired of this," Cameron said, her voice filled with a little anger. "I don't want to have sex with you."

House smiled wickedly at her then strutted to the couch, his back towards her.

"Ah, but you slept with Chase – more than once, I assume."

Cameron walked to the couch and glared down at House. "That was just sex," she stated.

"Hmm-hmm. And I take it you want more from me?"

"Yes. I don't want sex – I want to make love to you."

"Ha! No such thing. But just out of curiosity, why?" he asked.

"That's the crazy part. I don't know why."

After taking another sip of the Scotch he said, "At least you are honest. How about we skip to the sex part and then see if you want more from me," House offered.

"Let's say you take me to dinner and go over the reasons why I shouldn't leave you."

"We've already had dinner."

"No. Tomorrow night."

"What if I don't show up?"

Cameron took a few steps closer to the couch, leaned down over House and brought her lips a millimeter from his and whispered, "You'll show up."

And with that, he thrust his lips at hers, hard at first, but at each passing second of their warm, full lips pressed against the other, their kiss grew softer, slower and more passionate. Neither one touched the other; they were joined at the lips.

Pulling away from his delicious lips, she stood and said, "Elle Château, 8:30. Dinner. We talk – see where it goes from there."

House swallowed hard then challenged, "Again, what if I don't show up?"

Already knowing it would happen, Cameron peered down at House, brought her hand up to the top button of her blouse, slipped the button through the hole and slowly, seductively, pulled back the material to expose the blossom of her breast.

"Again, like I said – you'll show up."