A/N- This is just a re-load! Sorry if I have disappointed anyone (I wish). Okay, so, I have re-read and edited this story so many times, my life has been taken over by Wilson, Cameron and House... not that that's a bad thing. Hopefully everything is fixed and okay, but if it's not... don't tell me. I took too long fixing it all up again... Enjoy (hopefully!), new readers, who I love!

PS- I also love reviews... the more the better... I'm so greedy.


CHAPTER ONE – THE TRUTH ABOUT ESPN

"Knock knock," she pushed open his office door and tapped on it, verbalising the sounds in a sing song voice. He looked up from his charts and smiled.

"Hey, come in,"Wilson leant back in his chair and pushed his hair off his face. "How's it going?"

Cameronsmiled back and ventured into the room. "Good, good. I just wanted to see how you were doing. Are you okay?"

He sighed and his face adopted a defeated look. "Well, I was trying to keep it so that the whole hospital didn't find out…"

"No chance. We're our own community, there's too much in-house gossip for secrets."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess… and speaking of House, did he tell you about this?"

"No. For once, I think he actually respected your wishes."

"Now why do I find that so hard to believe?"

"Because it's House. Respecting people isn't his thing. Neither is keeping secrets." She sat down in the chair opposite him and crossed her ankles, smoothing out her lab coat. "Actually, this time it was Cuddy. She sent me here to check on you."

"Cuddy? How does she know?"

"Well, I think we've established by now that everyone knows about your divorce. Or if they don't, they could easily guess by the way you've locked yourself in here, all day, in the dark."

He grimaced. "Yeah, that is a bit of an indication, isn't it?"

She spoke softly. "What happened?"

"If you were wondering, I didn't cheat. Not this time. This time Boy Wonder kept it in his pants." He paused and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I really thought that this time, she would be, you know, The One, or whatever. You know, third time lucky and all… I guess I was wrong."

"I guess," was all she said, before waiting for him to continue.

"Maybe… maybe I'm just not supposed to be happy," he mused. Maybe it's my fate to be miserable and alone." He finally looked up at her. "I didn't cheat on her this time, unless you count the hospital… She cheated on me. With some guy she met shopping."

"Shopping?"

"Yeah, that's what I said. Shopping. This must be how my other wives felt… Used and stupid and insignificant and betrayed… man, I'm a bastard."

"So's the other guy," she said sympathetically.

"Don't try to make me feel better – I don't deserve it. I'm not trying to get your sympathy, I'm trying to tell you what happened, to get it out and just…"

"Hey, it's okay. Keep going."

"I mean, I know I'm the bad guy. I could feel our relationship changing, I could feel us growing apart, but I just… I ignored it, just spent more time at the hospital. I left her plenty of time and opportunity to find Shopping Guy…" He groaned and reached up to rub at his stiff shoulders.

"Sore?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I've been spending the last couple of nights here."

"What? You can't keep sleeping here! Why didn't you tell someone?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Who? House? He's dealing with his own crap right now, he couldn't give a damn about mine!"

"Well, me then," she said indignantly.

"You? What would you have done?"

"Invited you over to my house to sleep on the couch," she said, a matter-of-factly.

"Really? Seriously? Even with my… reputation?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please, Wilson, when have I ever been one to work off reputations? If I had, I would never have applied for House's fellowship, I would have stayed with someone boring, but safe, like Yule, or something. Reputations don't really mean much to me."

"People will talk. They see us together, they'll automatically assume we're an item… you said yourself how much of a gossip mill it is around here."

Her eyes flashed with her characteristic fire. "So? Who cares? Let people talk. At least then we'll have livened up their lives a little."

He cocked his head to the side as he considered her offer. "Are you really sure? I mean, if House gets wind of this, he'll never leave us alone."

"So? I don't care. I'm sick of doing things all the time with House in mind. There are other people in my life aside from him. I have other friends, and if one of them needs something, I'm not just gonna let them go wanting because of him!"

He looked at her admiringly and nodded slowly. "Okay. Thanks. I think I might take you up on it."

"Great," she said, beaming at him. "I'll swing by your office again later and lead the way to my apartment."

"Great. See you then."

Cameron stood and smiled at him one last time, before nodding and leaving the room.

James again leant back his chair, though he was a little less pensive and upset than before. He was looking forward to a nice, long, hot shower, a proper home-cooked meal and a comfortable night's sleep.


Unlocking the door, she pushed it open and dropped her bag onto the bamboo stand near her door. "Welcome to my humble abode."

He followed her in, closing the door after him. He surveyed the room and carefully set his briefcase on the floor next to the wooden coffee table as she moved into the kitchen.

"Nice," he approved. "This is great, Allison. Cosy. Tasteful."

"You know, you're like the only person who calls me that," she called.

He inspected a photo in her bookcase, picking it up and squinting at it. "What, tasteful?"

"No," she said, returning with two glasses of white wine. He returned the frame and took a glass. "Allison. I think I'm actually more used to Cameron. I actually get a bit of a shock when someone calls me Allison. For some reason it seems… oh, I don't know…"

"Unnatural?" Wilson offered.

She nodded. "Yeah. Unnatural."

"Same thing happens with me. James sounds alien, from another life. Julie was the only was the only one to call me James… So I guess it applies even more so, now…"

They both stood, silent, absorbed in their own thoughts until Wilson shook his head and took a sip of his wine.

"I'm sorry, I keep getting all self-deprecating and depressed." He moved over and sat on the couch, flopping down and jarring his shoulders.

"Ow," he complained, again attempting to rub them one-handed.

Cameron put down her drink and moved up behind him, removing his hand and replacing it with her own. She pinched the rock-hard muscle between her fingers, massaging it and attempting to relieve some of his pain. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the backwards-forwards motion her rubbing had on his body.

"Aaah…" he sighed. "You really know what you're doing!"

"I took some classes once. My husband… Ben. He was into all of it."

Wilson opened his eyes and indicated towards the picture he had been looking at. "That him?"

"Yeah. That's us, on our honeymoon."

"He loved you. You can see it in his eyes."

"Yeah."

The rubbing on his shoulders began to get rougher and more painful, and he could tell he had hit a nerve. He racked his brains for a change in subject before she ripped his shoulders off, but she seemed to realise what she was doing and slowed down a little.

"Sorry."

He relaxed again, letting his head loll forward. "No problem," he murmured.

She kneaded at his neck for several minutes in silence before Wilson finally spoke.

"Cameron, I just wanna thank you again for letting me stay. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," she responded. "And you can stop thanking me now. Instead, tell me what you want for dinner."

"Why don't you tell me? I'll cook for you tonight."

She paused slightly. "Really? I mean, can you even cook?"

He stopped her hands with his own and turned to look incredulously at her. "Can I cook? I'm one of the best cooks I know!"

Cameron smiled. "Yeah, and modest too."

He stood up and pointed at her. "Just you wait. Whatever you have in the fridge, I'll make something delicious from it, guaranteed." He made his way into the kitchen and opened the fridge door, rummaging around inside. "Now, what do we have here… aha…"

Cameron trailed after him and leant on the counter. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"Yeah," he pulled out spring onions and cream, "I do. Just because I'm… do you have any… no, it's okay, I got it…" he pulled out some bacon and straightened, closing the fridge door with his foot. Placing the items on the bench, he searched through her drawers for a sharp knife and began to skin and cut the spring onions. "Just because I'm bumming off you, it doesn't mean I can't contribute." He looked up at her and smiled. "I refuse to sit around and do nothing while you do everything. What kind of guest would I be?"

"You know what your problem is, James?" she stressed his name to prove her earlier point. "You are too damn nice."

"The same could be said about you, Allison… Pots?" he asked questioningly.

She pointed to the correct cupboard and watched as he deposited two pots on the counter, putting the onions in one and filling the other up with water.

"Oil?"

She went into the kitchen and handed him the oil, before presenting him with a packet of spaghetti.

He raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know?"

"ESPN."

He snickered and resumed his recipe, adding oil to the onion. "Would you mind cutting the bacon into squares?"

"Sure." She got a cutting board and knife and began her duties. "So… who taught you to cook?"

"Which wife you mean? None. My father. He may have been a strict Jew, but he made a mean pumpkin pie."

"Speaking of Jewish, shouldn't you be avoiding the bacon?"

"I should have avoided three divorces, too, but somehow I just can't seem to stop," he joked darkly, putting the pot onto a flame. "No, ever since I left home I haven't been kosher."

She snorted and added some bacon to the pot. "Not big on religion, huh? Me neither."

"I guess it's just because my religion was so strict during my childhood, I wanted to break away from it, experience something different for myself."

"If you're not kosher, then why do you still call yourself a Jew?"

"Truth? Because if I'm not a Jew, then what am I?"

"What are you talking about? You're a doctor, an oncologist, the Head of Oncology at a well-renowned hospital! That's who you are!"

He shook his sadly and took all of the finished bacon from her, adding it to the mixture and stirring it. "Just wait until you've had more experience. Then you'll understand."

She frowned as he suddenly turned quiet and subdued, and she turned back to the lounge. "I'll set the table."