A/N: Sorry for the long wait in updating! Holadios and I have both been busy with other stories/life. Reviews would be wonderful!

Disclaimer: Niether one of us owns CSI or House, as sad and heartbreaking as that is.

He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently for her to arrive. He was sitting at a table for two, currently only a table for one, watching the various people passing him by and settling down to their own meals. He noted with a fleeting hint of annoyance that none of them were sitting by themselves. She had clearly wanted him at this restaurant because it was a place for couples.

Couples…The word resounded emptily in his head. Being part of a couple was not something he had thought about for a long time, and since Stacy had left, it was not something he thought he would ever think about again. Even as it was, he didn't really think about being a couple with his co-worker. Her request had been unexpected, surprising, and yet, he felt himself oddly contented by it.

That someone would want him again, that was a new feeling. That someone wouldn't completely reject him, take one look at the cane and stare him down. He wasn't one to really care what people thought of him, but at the same time, he wasn't about to pretend that he wasn't lonely. Maybe it would be good to get into the dating scene again.

Of course, that only worked if the date showed up. It was now nearing seven thirty – she had said seven – and Cameron was half an hour late. From what he could see at work, she was not one to be late. She was too much of a perfectionist, cared too much, simply cared too much, and while he sometimes found that quality about her rather irksome, given how little he himself cared about anything, he knew it was one of her defining traits. So the question hung there, in the air, empty.

Where was she?

Had she stood him up? Pain shot through his chest at the very thought. He didn't want to pretend that he cared enough to care about whether or not she stood him up, but at the same time, being stood up was never fun. He had prepared too much, had thought about this too much, had second-guessed himself and consulted Wilson, and even bought that damn corsage for her – he had done much too much for it to end this way.

Did she really not want the job that badly? Was she having second thoughts about coming back to work for him? He sighed angrily. Even if that were true, would she hurt him over the job? He supposed he didn't really know how much she cared about him – he supposed it had been a lot. She had cared enough to be blunt and say that he had feelings for her, even though he said he didn't. She had cared enough to ask him whether or not he liked her. He had said no.

He wasn't really sure what to think about her. Young, pretty – no, gorgeous – and make that not young, but half his age. Caring. Gentle. Kind. Talented. She should have been a model. But she had become a doctor. He had to admit that was as sexy as it was intriguing. He may not be a man of principle, but he didn't think Cuddy would approve if he suddenly started dating his fellows. Besides, what would Foreman and Chase say? The two males would probably shout something about favoritism, they'd blab to Cuddy, and he'd be forced to let some of his team go, probably Cameron. No, he couldn't have that.

He checked the clock again. Now Cameron was forty-five minutes late. He was only going to wait another fifteen, he decided. One hour was more than enough time. He stopped a passing waiter and asked for another drink. The waiter gave him somewhat of a sympathetic smile as she walked off to fill the order.

House knew he looked pretty pathetic sitting there by himself. He pulled out his cell phone, which he had for once turned off, in anticipation for the date. He turned it back on now, thinking he would call Wilson and just be absolutely sure that he hadn't heard anything House hadn't.

Wilson picked up on the second ring. "Hello?"

"It's me."

"House?" Wilson sounded shocked. "What – Why are you calling me on your date with Cameron?"

"Because I'm not on a date with Cameron," he answered quietly, twirling the silver fork between his fingers as he tried to look inconspicuous and unconcerned. "She isn't here."

"She stood you up?"

"No, she didn't stand me up!" he exclaimed angrily. He sighed. "I don't know. Have you heard anything?"

"No, I haven't," Wilson responded. He sounded a bit worried now. "Do you think something happened?"

"I don't know," he muttered. He looked at the clock. "Think I should leave?"

He heard Wilson sigh heavily on the other side of the line. "It's been fifty minutes, House," he said gently. "I don't think she's coming."

"All right." There was no point in pretending any longer. He had been stood up. Maybe Cameron would apologize tomorrow for some unbeknownst crisis that had arisen that had prevented her from telling him anything or showing up. Or maybe Cameron would just avoid him altogether. Perhaps she had run? Maybe she had changed her mind about this, about everything. He sighed. Even though he had told himself he wouldn't get his hopes up, and even though it had only been the slimmest chance anyway, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. Let down. Rejected.

He signaled the waiter for the check and paid the bill in cash. He then left the restaurant, trying to pretend that there were no sympathetic stares from any of the other customers. But for once he knew they were not staring at him that way for his cane. That knowledge made him feel even worse.

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He awoke in a cold sweat with his sheets and blankets tangled around him. Breathing heavily, he turned on the lamp beside him. The warm light flooded the room, throwing everything into sharp relief. Though it had just been a dream, it had been his worst nightmare.