A week had passed since House and Cameron's encounter and neither one of them had said another word about it. This put Cameron even more on edge than if House had just come out and said it. She knew that he hadn't forgotten. He was just waiting for something, although what it could be Cameron had no idea.

The Jenkins case had been solved by House pulling some crazy theory out of the bag when all three family members were at the final stage of the disease, assuming it were to progress in the same way as it had with Mrs Jenkins. Chase had joked that he just did it for dramatic effect but Cameron didn't believe him. He was cruel but he wasn't that cruel, was he? Then again, the way he was behaving around her now to make her anxious did add some plausibility to Chase's theory.

House knew that by not saying anything Cameron would be on edge and, as cruel as it sounded, he knew that was what she needed in order to admit to her problem. They both knew she was too ashamed to admit it the last time they spoke. He would have to try and different tactic to get it out of her. If she was scared that at any minute he would bring it up again she would be more likely to try and hide it, making her subconsciously act more suspiciously than she would have done otherwise. Of course, it was a very twisted plan but House knew that it would work because he knew his employee - what makes her tick and what makes her crack. Right now he was trying for the latter. Once she admitted to what she was doing he would find out why she was doing it and solve this damned puzzle. If he managed to help her along the way it was only a bonus in his eyes, right? At least, that's what he knew he had to keep telling himself. He couldn't let himself feel any more for her than that.

When Alison entered the office the following Monday, after the first relaxing weekend she'd felt she'd had in ages, she could feel House's eyes on her, studying her every move and hoping for her to slip up. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she went about her morning routine as usual, making coffee and then moving to the desk to drink it whilst going through the ever-growing pile of unopened mail on House's desk.

Determined to catch Cameron slipping up, House had purposely arrived at the office five minutes after he knew she would be in. Foreman and Chase wouldn't be in for at least another half hour, giving him time to observe her and try to get something out of her. He noticed that, as she had done for the past week, Cameron was wearing a dark coloured blouse. If she had done anything, she was obviously trying her utmost to hide it.

The second that he was sure she'd noticed him staring, he moved over to the desk and leaned against it, resting in a position that was comfortable for his leg whilst still making it clear he was studying her.

"What do you want, House?" Cameron asked.

"Nothing." He smiled back when it was obvious that they both knew he was lying.

"Then can you stop looking over my shoulder?" She requested, as politely as she could in he irritated state.

"I'm not looking over your shoulder." House pointed out.

Alison sighed. "It's a figure of speech."

"I know that."

"Then please stop trying to make me uncomfortable and let me get on with doing your work." She hinted heavily.

"I'm not stopping you." He said, knowing that she was getting annoyed. Annoyed was good, it meant she'd be less careful but also that there was minimal risk of her hurting herself. Cameron was the sort of person to get emotional when she was upset but not when she was angry. She would just bite her tongue and carry on with her work, which is what she did until the rest of the team arrived about ten minutes later.

As they didn't have a case, Cameron continued to sort and answer House's mail after exchanging pleasantries with Foreman and Chase when they entered the office. House soon got bored and headed next door to Wilson's office, presumably to try and annoy him. For this, Cameron was grateful. That was until Chase started to talk.

"What's going on with you and House?" He asked. "You could cut the tension in here with a knife."

"He's just being an ass as usual." Alison replied with a hint of irritation in her voice.

"I thought you liked that." Foreman joked.

Alison didn't justify his comment with a reply but the words rang loud and clear on repeat in her mind while she tried to work. Her attention was soon drawn away from the stack of letters in front of her as she tried to figure out what it was about House that she actually liked. Sure he was good looking and she had no doubt that there were other who were attracted to him on a physical level but for most people that stopped when they got to know him. It wasn't as if he was nice to her for the majority of the time and she was sure all he wanted from her right now was the answer to another puzzle. There was a part of her that wished he really did care and wanted to help but even she knew that the chances of that were so slim it was barely worth her time thinking about. Instead she forced herself back to the tedious task of responding to every consult request in the same manner. At first she'd read them all in an attempt to find a case that House would willingly take on but three years worth of experience had taught her that he wouldn't listen so she'd given up trying.

The rest of the day passed in much the same fashion and the pile of letters on House's desk seemed to be almost all sorted and answered by the time the clock hit 5pm. It had been a quiet day so no one could wait to get out of the door. As much as Alison wanted to be at home, she hung back for a few minutes after Chase and Foreman had left to avoid having to make awkward small talk with them on the way down to the parking lot.

What she didn't count on was House returning to his office a few minutes after 5. She had assumed that he'd just left early or that he was pulling some stupid prank on Wilson or Cuddy because he hadn't been back since earlier that morning. It was either that or he'd been forced into doing clinic hours. The look on his face told that it was most likely the latter.

"I'm starting to think you live here." He commented upon seeing her still sat behind his desk.

"I was just finishing up." She lied.

"I wouldn't mind if you did live here as long as you wore sexy pyjamas." House smirked as he watched a blush creeping to her cheeks.

Alison tried to push down her embarrassment before House noticed but she had a feeling she wasn't having much luck.

"One day someone's going to sue you for sexual harassment." She pointed out.

"But I know it won't be you." House replied confidently. He was probably right and she was starting to hate that.

The pair stayed silent for a while. Alison was trying to think of a way she could get out of there without House asking too many questions while House was content just watching her to see what she did next. Neither wanted to make the first move and it seemed that they would be stuck in this stalemate for a while until Wilson walked in.

"I thought we were going to monster trucks." He said.

"We are, I'm just in a meeting right now." House replied without turning around.

"You have glass walls, House. I've seen that neither of you have moved in a while so you're obviously not in the middle of a very important discussion. Lets go. I'm sure Cameron wants to get home."

Alison shot Wilson a grateful smile, which he returned kindly. She wished both men goodbye and headed out to her car.

"Are you still convinced there's something wrong with her?" Wilson asked.

"I know there's something wrong with her, I just need her to admit it."

"Well that is the first step." He commented, although he was referring to House. The older doctor seemed to have an issue with admitting to a number of problems, not least of which were his drug habit and his obvious affection for Cameron. At least, that's how Wilson saw it and he probably knew House better than anyone, maybe even better than he did sometimes and this was in all likelihood one of those occasions.

"Are you implying I have a drug habit?" House scoffed. "Because I have no idea where you would've got that idea from."

Wilson couldn't help but let out a small snort of laughter at House's obvious indifference to his own problem, a stark contrast to how he was reacting to Cameron's. If that wasn't enough proof to him that he liked her, Wilson didn't know what would be.

Meanwhile, Alison had returned home and was settled down watching a film with a glass of wine. All she wanted was to switch off from worrying about House picking up on her every little movement. She was well aware of his suspicions and was determined to prove him wrong, no matter how much she knew he was right. Her childish fantasies of him being her knight in shining armour and saving her from herself were just that: fantasies. If she were to ever admit to what was really going on with her she had no doubt in her mind that his reaction would be completely the opposite. She imagined anger, screaming, tears (on her part), and a lot of snarky sarcastic comments that, to her once naïve mind, could have been masking his true feelings. Of course, she'd long since moved past her twisted Freudian explanation of his behaviour – it wasn't as if she'd ever believed in his theories anyway. She knew that she had to be realistic in this situation. As emotional as she felt, the rational doctor in her was the one calling the shots when it came to House in order to protect herself from any more pain.

Just thinking about House and the stress that he was putting her under at work seemed to be sufficient to lead Alison to the small box hidden in her bathroom. Over the years she had come to liken the pressure of needing to cut to the behaviour of action potentials at the axon hillock. The pressure inside of her would build up either temporally, as lots of repeated pressure from the same source, or spatially, a combination of lots of small stressors. Once the threshold was reached an all-or-nothing response took place. She knew she had to cut to relieve the pain, just like the axon hillock knew it had to send an action potential along the nerve cell membrane. Her mind ran over these details of her situation in a rational, rather than emotional, way as she continued her well-practiced ritual.

It was just like any other time until she heard a knock at the door.