Chapter 1

Wilson stormed into his office in PPTH. The hospital was calm, quiet, and nearly empty except for the nighttime nurses and on-call doctors. Right now, Wilson couldn't even THINK of going back home to his empty apartment. He didn't even want to see House. He just wanted to be left alone. That's how he felt, after all, alone.

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Well, they'd cured their latest patient, solved their latest case, and it was time to head home. Cameron had been busy in the clinic for hours. She had no one to go home to, anyways, and nighttime clinic hours were much easier than the day shifts. Less people (don't tell anyone, but she picked that tip up from House). She was heading back to the Diagnostics Office when she heard rustling in the office next door, Wilson's office. Being the kind-hearted, overly caring person that she was, she had to poke her nose in the middle of it all. Cameron set her things back down and knocked on Wilson's door.

"Come in," he said rather flustered, not really caring who was about to enter his office.

Cameron walked in slowly to see Wilson, head in his hands, deep in thought. "Wilson?" she asked, "What's... what's wrong?"

Wilson didn't answer.

"Wilson...?"

"It's House," said Wilson finally. He didn't really want to talk, but he knew the young immunologist would never give it up.

"House?" she asked worried. "What's wrong with House?"

'Figures,' thought Wilson. He was all she ever thought about. "He... stole some of my patient's meds."

"He what?!"

"He overdosed."

"Is he okay?!"

"He's... passed out in his apartment," said Wilson unsure, "He threw up though, so I think he'll be fine."

"You just left him there?!" said Cameron in shock. "What if he's not okay?!"

"He'll be fine, Cameron," said Wilson in agony.

Cameron stormed in anger, in terror, in grief, out of Wilson's office. Looks like she wouldn't be spending Christmas night alone after all. She was about to leave the hospital, to head for House's place, naturally, when she noticed a farmilliar face.

House was inside talking to Tritter. God, Cameron hoped he was taking the deal. She stood there, just watching them talk. By the looks of things, it wasn't going too well. Tritter smirked, and House looked angry, surprised even. That was never a good sign when it came to House. She stood there in silence, watching them go at it. Finally, Tritter left, walking past Cameron.

"Merry Christmas, Dr. Cameron," he said smiling.

Cameron just scowled and stormed into the room where Tritter had just left House, motionless, alone.

"House?" she asked, afraid of what she might hear. "House? Are you... are you okay?"

"Why do you ask?" said House rather calmly. He didn't even look at Cameron.

Cameron took a deep breath. "Wilson told me that you overdosed... I was just..."

"Worried?" smirked House. "Worried... As usual..."

"Well forgive me for caring," muttered Cameron. She felt so bad for him, and yet so angry. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"What were you talking to Tritter about?"

House didn't answer.

"House..."

"He won't let me take the deal."

"What?"

"He... won't... let... me... take... the... deal..."

Cameron rolled her eyes in desperation. She sat down in a nearby chair and cupped her face in her hands.

"Why do you care so much?" asked House.

"Because," said Cameron a little upset (because of House's question AND because of Tritter), "Because I care about YOU."

House didn't answer. He just stared down at her for a minute or so; then he just left her alone in her grief.

Cameron cried and cried and cried. She couldn't help but wonder... what would happen to House?

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House sat alone in his apartment, thinking about Cameron. Why did she care so much about what happened to him? He was her boss, nothing more. He thought about their non-date, their real date, everything they'd been through. He thought about everything she'd ever said to him, done to him. He thought about everything he'd ever said to her, done to her. Okay, maybe he was more than just a boss.