Cameron watched him stand in his office staring out into the white wonderland that had descended on Princeton. She watched the glint of merciless humour in his eyes that covered something deeper. She watched his sly smirk spread across his lips, not fully reaching the entire soft expanse of pink flesh.

She knew he was looking at his parking space.

That which he'd fought for.

She didn't get it.

She didn't get him.

When it was the blood stained carpet that he fought tooth and nail for she thought it was just House being House. Or at the very least a desperate attempt to piss off Cuddy and reaffirm his alpha male status within the hospital after his 8 week recovery.

Cuddy lying to him had hit him hard. That lie had made him doubt himself which was the extra twist of the knife that was bedded deep in his back. House's brilliance relied on his confidence, or perhaps more accurately, arrogance. The lie had tarnished this brilliance, and Cameron found that a House that second guessed and took the safe path was practically non-productive and really quite unsettling after the relative ease and speed that they normally solved cases.

But this; so many months later and after Cuddy had saved his ass from going to jail, troubled her far more.

And by the looks of things House was troubled by something deeper than mere parking spaces and carpets too.

His actions seemed like a desperate attempt to control things around him, even if it were indirectly by means of guilt and guerrilla tactics, which invariably meant that something out with his control had changed and he was more than unhappy about it.

There where very few changes that she'd ever seen House agree to, more often than not, it was merely disinterest and indifference that allowed the change to proceed. But recently, the slightest little thing, from the way she filed cases in the cabinets in his office to the blood-stained office carpet was meet with both fury and petulance.

Cameron gave in for the sake of a placated and relatively happy boss, but that didn't mean she wouldn't question his actions.

And at this latest display of childlike drama she had even more questions than usual.

The office was cool, filled with the bite of bitter morning air that filtered through the windows waiting to be dispelled by the hospital's economical heating system that had turned on automatically not even an hour previous. Still, she refused to put on her lab coat as she was not moving around the hospital and knowing it would offer little warmth compared the body hugging pullover she'd picked out that day.

It was morning, early morning. It was too early for Foreman and Chase to breeze into the room with good mornings and complaints about the detrimental affect of the weather on the traffic. It was too early for House, and yet he was standing in his office staring at his parking space.

It was another measure of control.

With a sigh she closed down the e-mail box on her computer screen, moved to the coffee machine and prepared two mugs.

A peace offering of sorts for the battle she knew was about to ensue.

She stepped into his office without a knock.

She placed the mugs on his desk with two dull thuds.

He didn't turn. He didn't speak.

She didn't leave.

"What changed?" she asked in a smooth confident voice.

"What?" he said turning slightly, eyeing her with an almost incredulous look.

"What changed?" she repeated, her voice more insistent.

"Nothing, nothing's changed. Didn't you see my parking space has my name on it again?" he said sarcastically before he scoffed, "And you call yourself smart."

"Something had to have changed." she spoke in a curious and determined tone, "Why else would you doing all this?"

"All what?"

"The carpet, the parking space."

House stood silent, his eyes never wavering from her inquisitive gaze. After a moment he moved, hobbling around the desk to stand in front of her just inches apart, challenging her with his proximity, hoping to drive her from his office, or at least steer her away from the current topic of conversation.

"I like things the way they are." He said in a low and almost dangerous tone.

"You never used to be like this. At least not this bad. Something had to have changed, something you couldn't control so that now you try to keep everything you can the same in the hope that everything will stay the same and you won't have to deal with what changed."

He remained quiet, a frown marring his features as he audibly gulped before lowering his gaze.

She saw something in those eyes before they dropped to the ground but she let it lie as she sensed weakness in his resolve to elude her questions.

"So, what changed?" she continued, "And more to the point why don't you like it and why can't you change it back."

His eyes returned to hers, the desperation of his recent actions mirrored in those icy depths.

"I..." he started quietly but stopped, the words almost unwilling to be spoken, but with resolute a sigh he continued, "I changed."

"Was it the surgery?"

"No." he murmured.

"The shooting?"

"No."

"Then what? How?" she asked in a quiet and encouraging tone.

"No." he spoke firmly, his shoulders squaring and determination shinning in his eyes, "You know that something changed, you know that that something was me. Isn't that enough for your curiosity for today?"

"Would it be enough for yours?" she challenged, hands sitting indignantly on her hips.

"You are not me." He said slowly, something entirely fierce and threatening in his words.

"Though it almost pains me to admit it, I'm more like you than you know."

"I know." he replied, something indistinguishable in his voice.

She pause briefly considering his words and tone before continuing, "How did you change and why?"

"I can't..." he mumbled his gaze wandering to the floor once more.

"Damn it House! Just tell me already, you're driving me crazy."

"You're driving me crazy!" he yelled, his body stiffening and shivering in frustration.

"What?" she asked thoroughly confused.

"Shit." he muttered, closing his eyes in regret.

"House, what do you mean I'm driving you crazy?" she asked in an exasperated tone, before fear crept through her shining eyes. "Are you going to fire me?"

"No!" he said loudly as if it were the last thing he'd wish, then more quietly and reassuringly, "No."

"Then what? Why..." she said in bewilderment.

"Just stop." He very nearly demanded.

"House." She pleaded softly, worry marring her soft features.

"Cameron…"

House stared at her, a stark seriousness and clarity in his eyes that she'd never seen before. She felt more than saw his hand reach for her, the warmth of it stretching forwards and seeping through her body.

She took a breath.

House shook his head slightly.

"Damn it!" he murmured, clenching his fist and drawing it closer to his body, staring at the appendage as if it had just stabbed him in the back.

"Wha..." Cameron started.

House unclenched his fist and brought his palm to her cheek before descending his lips to hers, half to stop her from talking half because he'd been longing to do the very thing for longer than he'd care to admit.

Cameron was completely in shock, entirely surprised by the sudden intimate contact from the man she'd pined for, for longer than she'd care to admit. His touch was so gentle, his thumb brushing her cheek and the caress of hisl lips, all contrasting with the roughness of his scruffy chin rubbing against hers. Her senses were on fire; the taste, the scent, the sheer warmth of his body so tantalizingly close to her own. Without a single cognitive thought she responded with a slow burning lust, turning her head slightly and leaning towards him. Her left hand reached his neck feeling the beat of a pulse that matched her own and the roughness where a bullet penetrated his skin and threatened to take him from her.

At the touch of the scar their kiss became more intense and insistent, their slightly parted lips moving with purpose and passion. But it was still tentative and slow, House rested his cane against his desk and snaked his right arm around her waist almost nervously. Cameron did the same, slipping her right hand under his blazer, both supporting him and leaning on him at the same time, their bodies touching almost entirely from head to toe.

She hummed contentedly when his tongue touched her lips for the first time, her hand moving to his hair and curling into the already messy locks at the back of his head, pushing her harder against him. His tongue brushed her lips once more, she parted them willingly but he didn't proceed. He touched once again, she moaned in indignation as he teased her once more. She let her tongue dart forward to taste his; he was the one to moan this time before finally complying and deepening the kiss.

They took deep breaths and breathed them out just as quickly as their tongues duelled and they pulled hard against each other desperate for the heat and sensation the other body created.

Reluctantly they pulled apart resting their foreheads against each other.

"Shit." House mumbled between panted breaths and gasps for air.

"It wasn't that bad was it? It definitely wasn't from my point of view." she said her own breath short and rapid.

"No, it was good. Very good, which is bad. Things can never go back to the way they were." he said, the slightest hint of regret in his voice. Then in a resolved tone he admitted with a soft sigh, "Everything is going to change."

"And you were happy for things to go on as they were?"

"Not happy. No." The soft movements of his thumb across her cheek resumed. "And definitely not now."

"Why?"

"Because I know I'll hate every day that I don't get to do that again."

Cameron pulled back to look him in the eye.

She saw truth and fear.

The truth of his words and the fear that she would leave.

The touch of his hand against her cheek a gentle plea.

She leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth, her lips brushing more stubble than skin. He turned his head slightly and met her lips in a soft chaste kiss.

A promise of things to come.

"So, what changed?" she asked sneaking her left hand around his waist, her fingers becoming linked at the small of his back.

Doubts formed in her mind, ideas that House might want some space after what had just transpired but she didn't want to let go of that warmth.

Not yet.

Not ever.

But those doubts where quelled as he brought his arms around her own waist in an almost possessive manor.

"I fell." he said quietly.