---)(---Hope---)(---

Time's running out. She's not happy with the cost.
There'd be no doubt, only she's forgotten
much more than she's lost.—Elvis Costello, This Year's Girl

Allison Cameron rises from her bed at precisely 5:35 am, as she does every morning. The only remains from the night before are a slight headache and the ring on her table where glass had and still sits…these and the resolution she's made to herself.

She showers and dresses standing in front of the mirror, she surveys and contemplates. She's changed, changed more than she thought, she discovers. There is no kindness in her eyes, no warmth—no joy. The soft lines that have started to form aren't laugh lines, no they're scowl lines, ones she desperately wants to erase or even just ignore. She sighs long and low—she doesn't like what she sees, she doesn't like that the lies have eaten their way to the front.

She resolves to hope, to change, to overcome. She wants to go back, back to what she was—back to what she was before she was liar.

A black Sharpie catches her eye; it's rolled from somewhere unknown into the white and blue bathroom she picks it up thinking it a sign. Pulling off the cap she gains a brief whiff of the bitter acidic ink and it makes her eyes water. Leaning on tip-toe she stretches to scrawl in tall wide, slightly loopy script "I WILL NOT BE A LIAR". It's down on paper—well mirror, but perhaps that is better—even more permanent. It gives her a slight smile, the gesture is small but perhaps it's changing her already, she swears she feels a little lighter. She swears she feels that faint glittering of hope.

---)(---

"Dude, is there tension here…or is it just Chase?" House had been watching them through the window for the last ten minutes Cameron was sure as he came from his office to the conference room table.

"Three little ducklings all in a row…but wait, no, one little ducky is all by his self…hmmm. Trouble in duckling paradise?" he was verging on some of his sarcastic best.

"House…" she pipes in softly hoping to turn his focused attention.

"Yes, duckling number three who obviously stopped putting out to duckling number 2, hence his whipped browbeaten look, you have something to add?"

Allison Cameron of recent disposition would have kept quiet, would have let House rib and pry at Chase and derive some sick twisted pleasure from it. Allison Cameron of recent would have piped in with something scathing and snarky just to be ornery after House let up. But the Allison of old would have said nothing, done nothing, perhaps just glared and silently sympathized. But thankful the Allison Cameron of current had reverted to the Cameron of old but with the benefit of lessons learned from the Cameron or recent.

"We're not the case House, I think there is scared little girl in room five who would much rather we focused our efforts on curing her, instead of picking at somebody's bad morning…" her words were rough but her voice was soft, it was gentle and it tamed the beast—at least for the moment.

"Fine, Chase do some more of those tests that we do, Foreman go to her house do that thing that you do…Cameron, my office—and perhaps you can do that thing that you used to do with you-know-who," he shifted sly eyes toward Chase, "Oh and bring me some coffee while you're at it."

Foreman looked from Cameron to Chase and back again, he shook his head with bemused understanding. He left to check the house.

Chase didn't say anything or look anywhere as he went out of the conference room but Cameron just knew that he was hurting and she felt a little bad.

House's red coffee cup sat where it always did in the morning, right where she had put it at the end of yesterday, rinsed and upside down on the clean dishcloth. She had finally got smart after suffering a few pots of horrid coffee that were made on the seldom occasions when someone got in the office before she did, she bought a coffee pot with a self start timer. Every night she would rinse House's cup, put a new filter in the pot, and fill it with her special mix of Vienna and Komodo Dragon coffee then set the timer. The Diagnostic department never again suffered a lousy cup of coffee.

Coffee in hand she ventured toward the lion's den. She was actually kind of glad that he was giving her a reason to talk to him alone, not that she was really looking forward to it, but it had to be done and she was going to do it.

"Knock, knock," she said cheerily opening the door.

"Have you ever 'knock, knocked' the whole time you've been here?" House was leaning back in his chair twirling his cane as she entered.

She bit back a snotty retort, that wasn't her anymore, she wouldn't be that. "I was trying to be polite."

"So?" Politeness being a foreign concept to him.

"Here's your coffee," she put the mug on his desk in front him, if he kept it up he could try her best patients, beat her resolve.

He gave a nod of recognition though never stopped looking at her.

"Is there something wrong with my shirt, you keep staring." She was dangerously close to irritable but reined it in at the last possible second.

"You're different today."

She blinked too surprised to answer—at least coherently. "Wh…what do you mean?"

"What I said, you're different today."

It shouldn't surprise her that he notices, but it does. She can't figure out what to say, how to respond.

"And it's not just because you quit letting Wannabe Crocodile Dun-Dee put his shrimp in your barbie. There is something different about you and I'm not sure if I'm okay with it."

Now, Cameron of recent would start an argument on how who or what she did was none of his damn business—unless he had feelings for her. Cameron of past wouldn't have been screwing Chase to begin with so on that front the subject was moot. This Cameron of current wasn't exactly sure what to do, she wasn't yet sure of where in the middle her new person stood.

"You not as frigid as you have been recently…your wardrobe has suddenly perked up, even going a little Cuddy with the top… You have been smiling all morning and haven't said a backhanded word, your normal quota of recent being 5-10. If the circumstances were what they have been the last month I would come up with two pretty reliable diagnoses. One, being that I was in fact wrong about Chase that he wasn't made a eunuch as to sing in the Vienna Boys Choir when he was young and therefore got you enceinte but seeing how you broke up with the schmuck I submit option two; you're hung-over which really wouldn't explain the near giddiness but we're going with it. However, while your eyes are slightly red, a sign you did indeed drink, you did not in fact get drunk enough to get a hang-over. You've left me quite the conundrum Dr. Cameron…"

She watched him carefully; he had put down his cane and was now drumming his fingers on the grey and red ball he had retrieved from the corner of his desk.

"I don't really see that it matters much… Maybe I'm just having a good day. Besides you don't know that I called it off with Chase—that's just your speculation."

"See, right there," House stood taking steps around his desk. "You think that just because you let your voice go all soft and squishy like a girl that the sting of your words isn't caught—wrong. I know you broke up with Chase; it's stamped on his forehead like a damn neon sign. So we can stand here arguing like a bad high school debate team on a subject we both know is pointless or you can tell me what sunshine flower crawled up your butt and bloomed."

Cameron's jaw dropped—then she laughed. "House…I am different, I feel different, I am making an effort to be different and you know what, it really shouldn't matter to you. I am going to check on Lindsey now okay?" she laughed again softly, her smile radiant as she turned to head out of the door.

House just stood there a bewildered look across his scruffy face.

"Hey! Wait," he called following a few seconds behind.

"House, I don't think I want to talk about this anymore…Go bug Wilson, I think he's got a new girlfriend—and I think you'd like her, might even know her…" she was laughing as she entered the elevator, a little voice checked her, that last Wilson comment might not have been the best choice—but she shrugged it off, she was still drawing lines so until they were firm she would allow a few slips.

"I don't want to bug Wilson—I want to bug you." He stopped the elevator door with his cane.

"You're wasting your time."

"Don't care." He entered stood beside her in silence as the elevator began to rise. "I'm going waste yours till you tell the truth," he added cane jutting out to slam the red emergency stop button.

"House…"

"What is going on…I can stand her a long time so you might as well make it easy and just tell me."

Cameron was very close to angry, inside she was burning with rage, rage that really was unfounded, at least in the degree that it was rearing. There were plenty of things that she would love to tell him, things she would love to vent, to rant, but she was trying not to be that person anymore. So instead she clenched her fists and tried to breathe.

"Hello…is everything alright? What is your emergency?" a thickly accented, slightly static voice filled the small space.

"Yes, thank you Jose, I'm with Dr. House who is just trying to hide from Dr. Cuddy, we'll engage the elevator in a minute."

"Oh, okay Dr. Cameron…have a good day…" Jose sounded confused but the click of the box let Cameron and House know he had hung up.

"You're on first name basis with the maintenance crew?" House was clearly surprised.

"That shocks you?" she lifted an eyebrow.

House frowned thinking, "No, actually it doesn't, you probably have lunch with them every Tuesday and every Thursday with Security…question is, where is Jose in the sexual rotation?"

She slapped him.

"Hmm, not sure where that fits into my differential but I just know it has to somewhere…" he rubbed his cheek absently an amused smile tugging.

"You're an ass…and to think I used to think that was comforting." She shrunk away from him crossing her arms across her chest.

"Oh, now that is telling…we are getting somewhere…"

"Can't you just leave me alone? Can't you be satisfied that you drive me insane? Can't you just be happy knowing that you won?"

His face shows shock for just a brief moment. "I didn't know we were even in competition, but it's good to know that I won—now I'd just like to know what exactly it is I've won."

She glared at him, she glared and she glared hard—it was too late to try and stop now he'd broke her resolve. "You want to know why I'm different, why I am trying to do everything in my power to be different? I'll tell you—"

"Oh good, since that is what I've been asking you to do…"

"House…you've made me liar. From moment I came to work for you you've made it your mission to break me, to tear away everything that makes me who I am. You've dissected every part of my life, personal and professional. You criticized my marriage to a man who's been dead over ten years, you rebuked my caring, and you've humiliated me and degraded me time and time again.

"I let you get at me, I let you get under my skin—I changed because of you! I let myself become jaded and hardened because of you! I mean come on House, can you say it wasn't your ultimate goal? I killed a man because of you…I let you change everything that was fundamental about me… I let you destroy me…" she pressed her lips tight with a shrug, "And I've decided that I'm not going to let you do it anymore. I don't like being a liar, I don't like lying to myself, which is what it feels like I'm doing because I know this isn't me, I'm not this person…I'm not."

He silently frowned at her.

"There it is. I should thank you though," her voice said she'd really rather not, "I did learn valuable lessons from you, I mean my experiences have given me a backbone, I'm not going to let myself be the doormat but I'm not going to be you either. And that is the most valuable lesson I take; don't become a sick, twisted, misanthrope, cynical, alone bastard…and I was getting close." She hates that she hears the snide anger in her voice; she didn't want to be that anymore.

He still didn't say anything; he looked at her expression passively blank.

"Oh, so now you are going to be the silent thing…fine, but I really need to get back to work." She stepped to push the stop button. He blocked her with his cane.

"Just like that…you think you can 'fix' yourself just like that?"

She stiffened, his voice was low and so quiet she almost didn't hear it, yet it was so loud it pounded in her ears. "Admission…isn't that the first step to recovery?" she matched him.

"Yeah well we all have problems but since you don't believe in God you're going to be screwed when it comes to step two. And blaming other people isn't really admitting you have a problem, it's pointing out theirs."

"I allowed you to influence me, I know it's my fault, I don't dispute that."

"I've made you a better doctor." He pointed out staring down at her.

"You've made a worse person. I'm sorry I'd rather be a slightly less great doctor but a whole, genuine person. I may end up lacking your suspicious, pessimistic tendencies which I'll admit help make you the best diagnostician in the country and I may not ever be able to look in the face of a parent whose' child dying and call them a liar, like you do so well but I'll be able to hold their hand, give them comfort and still figure out what's wrong."

"If you believe that you're not just naive you're an idiot."

"I'm idealistic and I won't apologize for that. I am choosing to believe that I can be a good person and a good doctor; I am choosing to believe that I can be honest…that while most everyone at some point lies, I don't have to."

He stared at her eyes holding hers, she wasn't teary and he had expected her to be. She wasn't angry, as he had thought she would be. She was resolved—and that was the last thing he had expected.

He dropped his cane letting her go by to turn the elevator back on.


TBC