This story is due to the encouragement I received from a great writer here. I don't want to say who, as I joked with them, if the story is horrible or no one reads it, I don't want them getting the blame :P

Standard Disclaimer: I don't own House, cause if I did Cameron and House would have ended up happily dysfunctional ever after.

I should also mention that I stopped watching the show after season 3; I think I saw a few episodes here and there but I just hated what the writers did to the characters that we knew and loved from Season 1 to 3, especially House and Cameron that I couldn't watch anymore. As a result, I'm setting the story in an indeterminate point in time, obviously before season 4 and I'll probably reference random episodes from season 1 to 3.

Now, I realize that the Cameron/House fandom has mostly moved on, which is completely understandable and I'm not one to hold chapters hostages for reviews – no shade directed at those that do, just not my thing – but I would like some sign that people are reading the story – cause if no one is reading it doesn't really make sense to keep writing, so any follow or even a review that says "I'm reading" or "I'm reading now but make it better" would be greatly appreciated. Thanks…and now on with the show…..

ACGH

House listened to the familiar slap and shuffle combination of his feet and cane echo along the empty corridors of PPTH. He knew where his steps were taking him, but he wasn't sure why anymore. The echo seemed to ping around the empty spaces inside him, searching for an answer. He'd given himself until the end of the year to figure things out or hand in his resignation. To quit medicine altogether. Wilson had asked him once why he didn't just quit. If he was so miserable, why did he stay? Lately, House had started to ask himself the same question.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in."

House grimaced. Dr. Cuddles. Great. There goes seeking in unnoticed.

"What are you doing here so early? Hmm, no new bruises from another jealous husband. What exactly did you do this weekend?"

"Oh, just the usual. Hookers and General Hospital. And I told you the black eye was a misunderstanding. Stacy told me she was going to separate from Mark. The divorce decree got lost in the mail."

"Sure. I mean how could any woman stay away from you? With your sparkling personality," she walked towards him with her nose in the air, sniffing with a smirk. "What a seductive scent. Sweat, Vicodin and Scope that almost disguises the subtle hint of too much Scotch."

"Come on, Cuddles, even you can't smell Vicodin."

"Just look at yourself. What a waste. Forty eight years old and nothing to show for it."

"Forty four."

"The way you look today, fifty would be a generous guess."

"As much fun as it is to spend time with your fun bags, I'm not really in a mood for a lecture on overindulgence, complete with your pathetic hand wringing and your sad eyes doing your best Oprah impression pleading me to 'live my best life.'" He mocked her, giving his best Disney doe-eyed face as he continued down the hall towards his office.

ACGH

Cameron re-crossed her legs and reminded herself not to swing her suspended foot. It was a sign of nervousness, and something that House would notice immediately. He could already rip her apart without breaking a sweat, no need to give him any extra help.

She reached down to tug at the hem of her skirt and watched it snap back into place a couple of inches above her knees. It was an impractical choice, she wasn't Dr. Cuddy, who could come to work in her thousand dollar Chanel suits and low cut tops only to sit behind a desk all day. No, Cameron would be doing hands-on work all day, working in the clinic, running gels in the lab… Oh, well, no use second-guessing her fashion choice now. She didn't want to focus on the her short A-line skirt. She knew exactly why she had picked it out this morning.

Or more specifically, who she had picked it for.

She laughed softly to herself. It was pathetic. She was pathetic.

After everything he had done, after everything he had said, Cameron still wanted House.

Please like me.

Please love me back.

Her skirt practically screamed "pay attention to me."

She figured if she couldn't get him to admit his feelings for her, she could at least get him to admit his lust, which would be a step in the right direction.

Despite everything that had happened on their date from hell, Cameron still believed in happy endings.

What she had never believed in, despite what House thought, were the stories she was told during her childhood; the stories of the prince who rescued the princess from the evil queen and killed the dragon before they rode off into the sunset together. She was no princess. She didn't need rescuing. She wasn't perfect. She was a damaged, flawed person looking for another damaged, flawed person to love and accept her for who she was, just like everyone else in the world.

She knew there was a happy ending for her. For her and House. She knew it in her bones. She couldn't give up, couldn't simply walk away. There were many negative things a person could say about her, House had practically said them all already, but Cameron was nothing if not tenacious.

Lost in thought, Cameron almost didn't hear the door next to the conference room open. Looking up Cameron caught sight of House walking into his office wearing his familiar worn jeans, a wrinkled t-shirt, with waves of hostility rolling off him.

"Good morning, House."

Silence.

Slowly House turned towards her, his eyes travelled up Cameron's body, taking in every part of her new wardrobe choice. His eyes on her made her feel naked. She fought the urge to tug at her skirt again. And just when the silence had stretched her nerves to the breaking point, House moved away from her and took a seat behind the desk.

Something was wrong. There was no smart ass remark. No biting comment to reduce her to tears. Nothing. Just Silence. The tension in the office was palpable. Almost a living breathing entity. Suddenly it felt hot. And it was hard to breathe. She tried to swallow without gasping out loud.

House saying nothing was a million times worse than his most biting comment could be. A silent House meant an uninterested House. And an uninterested House meant her plan was dead in the water already.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

"Coffee?"

"What?"

"Have. You. Made. Coffee?" He pronounced each word slowly and deliberately as if talking to a moron. Or a patient.

"Oh..yeah. I'll get you a cup."

"Hmm," he muttered in acknowledgment.

"Oh, and Cameron. Nice skirt. Can we expect a low cut top tomorrow well? I'd love to see you and Cuddy try and out Hooter each other? Her fun bags might be bigger, but I bet you've got her beat in the perky department."

Cameron walked into the conference room with a small smile on her face. Now there was the jackass she loved.

TBC…. If there is any interest in the story, I do plan to update once a week.