She takes him to a small family restaurant a few blocks from the hospital.

The dining room is nearly full, with patrons in booths around the perimeter of the room and at tables scattered throughout the middle. Each table is topped with a red cloth and a fat vanilla candle standing in a bowl surrounded with raw cranberries. There is a fire burning in the little stone fireplace beside the hostess stand; stockings hanging from the mantle are labelled in glitter with the names of the wait staff. A Christmas tree decorated white, red, and silver glows from the other end of the room and Christmas music can just be heard over the cheerful chatter of the diners.

"They always open for Christmas dinner," Cameron explains after they've been seated. "They get a lot of staff from the hospital, police officers, other single people who have to work today and don't want to go home and cook for themselves. I found it my first year here, before I met Tim."

"Your husband," House says, plucking a roll from the basket the hostess provided.

Though it's a statement, she takes it as a question and nods in the affirmative. "Ex-husband, but yes."

He slathers butter from a small packet onto his roll. "Where did you meet?" He raises his eyebrows as he shoves a piece of bread in his mouth.

Small talk coming from House is always cause for concern and caution, but she answers anyway. What the hell. "He was a patient, actually. Came in after a car crash. Nothing serious, just abrasions and contusions." She pauses, waiting for the jab at her professionalism she knows is coming.

"But he liked your bedside manner?" he asks with a lewd wink.

She rolls her eyes. "Something like that. We were married less than six months later. I was already pregnant with Megan." It's a pattern with Tim, she's come to discover. He falls hard and fast and needs instant commitment no matter the cost. He'd done it with Cameron, though she hadn't known it at the time, dumping his current girlfriend to pursue the doctor he'd just met. And he'd done it once again with the pretty young teacher at Megan's kindergarten.

While she would never regret having Megan, she could have saved herself some heartache if she'd given their relationship some time to mature before they married. Maybe she would have seen beneath the surface to the selfish, immature man he really was. On the other hand, she'd known Robert Chase for years before they got involved and eventually married, and look how that turned out. Maybe you just never really know anyone.

House pops the last of his roll into his mouth. After he finishes chewing, he speaks again. "I think that brings us full circle. You're divorced. Why?" He rests his elbow on the table and his chin on his upturned palm, waiting pseudo-patiently.

She knew this was coming. She may as well tell him, or he'll never stop asking. Or worse, he'll turn to some other method of finding out. Snooping through her belongings, or tracking down Tim and asking him himself.

She's saved from responding by the arrival of their meals. The waitress sets their plates in front of them and House nearly dives into his, impertinent question forgotten, at least for now.

All the restaurant serves on Christmas Day is turkey and sides: potatoes and vegetables, stuffing and cranberries, but she can't imagine why anyone would want anything else. The turkey is done to perfection, moist and crispy. The potatoes are fluffy, the stuffing is savoury, the cranberries are the perfect blend of sour and sweet. The vegetables are, well, vegetables, but they're cooked and seasoned just right and even House eats them with enthusiasm.

They finish their meals mostly in silence, only trading occasional words of appreciation over the food. The waitress returns just as she's dabbing her mouth with her napkin. They both order coffee and pumpkin pie, House's with extra whipped cream, and then she decides she can stall no longer.

"I'm divorced because my husband fell in love with our daughter's twenty-five year old kindergarten teacher," she volunteers before he can ask again. "Funnily enough, I couldn't stay married to him after that. Not that he was really giving me a choice."

"Idiot," House says after a brief pause. He accepts his pie and coffee from the waitress. "Not you," he tells her at the young woman's surprised look.

"I beg your pardon?" Cameron asks.

"He's an idiot. Why do you always marry idiots?" He sounds almost disgusted.

She stares. Was there maybe an inside-out and upside-down compliment in there somewhere? Best not to ask, because he'll never admit it even if there was. She goes for the joke instead. "Well, at least I picked a rich idiot this time."

He nods. "There is that. So how is old Chasey-boy these days, anyway?"

She blinks at the quick subject change. "Oh, ah, fine as far as I know. I haven't seen or spoken to him since…well…since your funeral. We're not in touch or anything, but I hear stuff from Foreman. He's remarried. His wife had twins last year. And he's got your old job at PPTH. Same office and everything."

He nods again, poking at his pie. "Good. Best one for it. Well, second best, but the first best vanished into ER hell never to be seen again." He takes a large bite.

She smiles. At one time she would have tried to defend her career choices to him. Now she's just happy to know that somewhere in there he's proud of her. Maybe not in her choices, but in her abilities and, she suspects, in her willingness to walk away. Though he may have a point about her choices. "I miss it sometimes," she admits. "Being with one patient from start to finish. The challenge in finding the right diagnosis. I'm actually in negotiations with our board to start a similar department here."

He gives her a look of interested surprise.

"I've been thinking about it for a long time actually," she elaborates. "A lot of cases come through the ER that I would have referred to you in the old days. Here they just go to whatever specialty seems most likely. Sometimes I get it right, other times… Well, I just wish I had more time to figure it out. Most of the time I never even find out what happens to them. It…I don't like it. It's that caring thing again; you know me." She grins self-deprecatingly as he snorts. "Before fairly recently, I didn't think I would have the time to devote to getting a department up and running, even if the board would go for the idea. But now…" She breathes deeply and closes her eyes for a moment before continuing. "Now, with my daughter at her father's every other week, not only do I have the time, I need the distraction."

Distraction. She can see he understands the word, the need.

She shrugs and picks up her coffee mug. It's something.

When they're finished with their dessert, the waitress brings their bill along with two candy canes. She can't help but remember the first Christmas she worked for him and when she looks over and sees the gleam in his eyes, she knows he remembers too. The look on his face gives away his evil plan and before he can say the words, she beats him to the punch. "Candy canes? Look what she brought you House! The perfect Christmas treat for a cripple!"

He actually laughs out loud and the waitress looks so horrified that she wants to tell her it's just an inside joke, but then, that would ruin it, wouldn't it?

"Atta girl," he says, with something that sounds like pride.

She grins.