disclaimer: don't own them...wish i did.

A/N: this is me, being severely pissed off at this weeks episode. because vogler is a CENSORED!

"Maybe I should just quit."

The response was immediate, laced with the usual scoffing tone that was associated with him by now. "You can't quit."

Cameron lifted her chin in defiance. "Why not?"

House's eyes darted around the room until they came to rest on her pretty, upturned face. The reasons flitted through his mind.

'Because I lied. I like you.'

'Because I can't stand Chase anymore.'

'Because you're a breath of fresh air...I hate that.'

'I need that.'

'Because we need you here.'

'Because I couldn't stand it without you.'

'Because I really can't stand Chase right now.'

"Because I say so," was what came out of his mouth, and the shutters, the ones that had been masking her emotions since two week before, closed, when a moment ago they had almost been opened again.

She rolled her eyes and spun on her heel, heading for the door.

By the time he had called out "Dr. Cameron!", he was talking to a closed door.

THE NEXT DAY

Cameron didn't even flinch when House hobbled into her office with a BANG of the door into the wall and threw a manilla folder onto her desk. "What is this?"

"I think you know what it is," she replied, continuing to pack her desk contents into a box.

"I do," he admitted, beginning to take items out of the box and setting them on her desk again. "But why are you doing this?"

"I told you," she said, putting the items back in the box. "That I was going to quit."

"You said maybe you should. Plus, it requires a two week notice, so I didn't take you seriously."

She slapped his hand away and smacked her two hands, palms down, onto her desk. She raised her eyes to meet his. "You never take anything seriously, Gregory. That's what's driving me away."

"And here I thought it was my sunny disposition," he quipped. She glared at him darkly, placing tape over the two card board folds. "Jeez, take a chill pill."

"Coming from the man addicted to Vicodin," she muttered. Then, in her normal voice, she said, "And I gave my two weeks notice to you two weeks ago. Remember the file that I told you I needed you to read?"

He squinted at her. "That's what that was?"

She sighed. "Dr. House, please, can you leave so I can finish packing?"

He watched her pack up for a few minutes, the knuckles on the hand gripping his cane beginning to pale. Making a decision, he reached with his other hand and ripped the loose tape off of the first box.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"Helping you unpack."

"I don't want to unpack," she said. "That's why the tape was on the box."

"Was it?" He furrowed his brow. "Whoops."

"House." She sounded tired as she sat down. "Will you go away? Please?"

He frowned. "Fine. But don't think I'm giving up."

"Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy looked up from her desk to see Cameron standing in the doorway, labcoat folded over her arms. "Yes, Dr. Cameron?"

"I just..." She cast an uneasy glance at Vogler, who was standing in his usual position as Cuddy's shadow. "I came to tell you that Dr. House made a decision." She held up her labcoat. "And it was me. I've already packed up, and I'm ready to go." She turned to leave. "I just wanted to tell you."

"Allison," called Cuddy, standing up. The younger doctor turned around again. "You'll be missed."

Cameron allowed a small, sad smile. "Not by everyone," she said, assuming Cuddy knew who she was talking about.

Cuddy did.

And Cameron left the building, and possibly their lives.

"So, House," Cuddy said, jogging to catch up with him as he walked down the hall. "What made you choose?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Choose what?"

"Who you fired," she said. When she recieved a blank stare, she elaborated. "Dr. Cameron? She came into my office about an hour agao, saying that you fired her. I filled out her forms."

House stopped, leaning against one of the walls. "I did not," he said through gritted teeth. "Fire Cameron. She quit."

"What?" Cuddy asked. "She loves it here; she likes you, for a reasonI can't fathom. Why would she do something like this?"

Pushing himself away from the wall, he limped down the hall. "I'm going on my lunch break."

"You've already had you're lunch break."

"Fine then. I'm going on my after-lunch-break break.

Allison sighed as someone knocked on her apartment door, and wiped her palms on her jeans. Walking over, she said in a voice loud enough for the person on the other side to hear, "Mrs. Dominguez, I'm fine. As delicious as they are, please stop bringing cook-" She opened the door. "-ies." She stared at the person in her doorway. "You're not Mrs. Dominguez."

"Really?" House furrowed his brow. "Thanks for telling me; I was getting worried about why I didn't look like a middle aged woman. I also wondered why people kept on screaming when I went into the women's bathroom."

"Or, maybe it's because, hey! You're you!" She gave him a brilliantly false smile, and started to close the dor. "And now that that's out of the way, good-bye."

His cane came between the door and the doorjamb, stopping it from closing. Allison groaned, and opened the door, knowing he would probably scare her neighbors if he was out in the hall too long.

He hobbled past her and into her apartment, looking around. "Nice place." He turned to face her. "Come back to work."

The arms that had been crossed over her chest unfolded, and she walked away from him. "No."

When she turned around to face him, she started when she realized that he was less than a foot away. "Why not?" he asked.

"B-Because," she stammered, then shook her head in an attempt to regain her composure. "I'm not respected there."

He scoffed. "Yes, you are."

"No, I'm n-"

"You are," he insisted, interrupting her. He glanced down at his cane hand, an impossible pink tint lighting up his cheeks. "You're liked there." He smirked. "Everyone likes you."

She tilted her head to the side lightly. "Do...you like me?"

He stiffened, recognizing the question that had caused all this in the first place. He stood, thinking of how the last time had gone so peachy. Of course, last time he'd lied in an effort to get her to stay...and look where it had them now.

Right back at square-friggin-one.

He looked up at her, blue eyes piercing her brown ones, and answered in the only way he knew he could.

"Yes."

And then, in an utterly un-House like move, he leaned down and pressed her lips to hers.

And, after getting over her immediate shock, as she twined her arms around his neck, his answer echoed in her mind:

"Yes."

The End