Hey guys!

Thanks for the brilliant reviews! You lot make my day with them :D
Here's Chapter Four. Stolen Cinderella seems to be on haitus at the moment, but it'll be back as soon as my muse for it is!

Peace & Cheers

Amylia
xxxxx

LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD

Chapter Four – Taking Back What's Mine

House found himself thinking more and more about Cameron over the course of the day and he knew he had to end that. He wanted her, and that alone was eating him up inside. He shouldn't be feeling that…couldn't be feeling it. The way she'd spoken to him earlier in the restroom…it had left him painfully aroused and every time his thoughts drifted back to her, he'd hear the purr of her voice close to his ear again, reverberating through him. As he snapped out of his trance-like recall of her proximity – the scent of her hair brushing against him, hot breath tingling his skin as she spoke, the seductive heat emanating from every part of her – he found himself already semi-hard and it was driving him crazy. Part of him was kicking himself for not jumping her right there and then. He was sure she wouldn't have opposed to that.

He needed to know if it was Booth she'd slept with. A part of him was sing-songing 'I told you so!' repeatedly in his mind, whilst a whisper of doubt still plagued him. She'd always pretty much done what he'd told her, never really stepping out of line. She was 'the good girl'. The one with the big blue-green doe eyes who looked up to him no matter what and defended him vehemently. The one who would come running at his slightest whim. He'd thought he'd always have her little crush to count on, that it would always be one of the sure things in his life; something he could keep in his peripheral vision and not pay too much attention to. But when it was suddenly gone…he felt like he'd been thrown off kilter. And he wasn't ready to acknowledge that just yet. She couldn't mean that much to him…because feelings were a dangerous thing to play with.

--

Out of all the people to seek out when he had a dilemma, House would have put Chase at the bottom of the list. But, reluctantly, he acknowledged the fact that Chase had been the only other man he was in contact with who had bedded his beautiful immunologist. Therefore, that qualified him as a source of information in this situation.

He found the Australian intensivist in the gallery of the OR, observing the patient undergoing a kidney transplant. After the Interferon and Prednisone they'd administered had brought on anaphylaxis, damaging the liver, they'd been unable to immediately administer Ramipril, so his kidneys had shut down causing hyperacute rejection of his own organs. It had completely desiccated any hope to diagnose him before a transplant was necessary and they'd had to rush him into the OR for the kidney transplant. They were still in the dark as to what his primary problem could be, which was getting more serious by the day.

"I'm guessing you're here to question me about Cameron. No, I did not sleep with her last night."

Chase hadn't even turned around and had known it was House who had entered. He House noted how his fellows, along with Cuddy and Wilson, had the uncanny ability to do that. Did he give off some kind of radar?

"Yeah, I figured you hadn't been so lucky this time, so pipe down. Has she said anything about FBI guy?"

This time Chase did turn around, the surprise on his face clearly giving his answer.

"You think she slept with Booth?"

"No, the other FBI guy wandering round here. Of course I mean Booth."

House was getting snappy, wanting fast and direct answers so he didn't have to bother with small talk. The gawking he was receiving for his question was starting to grate on him. He could see that coming to Chase for information was going to be the big waste of time he'd guessed it would be.

"I don't think she'd do that. She only met him the other day, and you told her to stay away from him. She loves you; I doubt she'd have sex with Booth just to spite you. That's not who she is and even you know that. She's not as easy as you make her out to be, House."

"Yet she still let you get in her pants, and you two weren't exactly 'dating', were you?"

It was a stinging rhetorical question that caused Chase to sigh in weary tedium. House silently admitted that he already knew Cameron wasn't some cheap and easy lay, that his teasing didn't really hold any truth in what he thought about her. If anything, he saw her as the opposite to 'easy'.

Chase frowned, shaking his head. He still felt the need to defend her actions in getting high and calling him over for a quick tumble. Her sex drive had been in fifth gear and she had no kind of breaks, no way to ease that burning need to screw the nearest man she could find. But even in that state of mind, it wasn't like she'd gone out and found a random stranger – whom he knew she wouldn't have had to go far to find, with so many men who'd have been more than willing to have a one-night stand with such a beautiful woman – and instead she'd called him. Even when she was out-of-her-mind on meth, she still needed some kind of connection. She might not have had feelings for him as strong as she did for House, but it had still been a connection. Just because she was high didn't mean she wasn't still Cameron. She'd called him when all her inhibitions had been lost to the effects of the meth. They'd been friends, and he hadn't hidden the fact that he, along with the majority of the male population, found her found her very attractive and was interested in her, if she ever found the desire to reciprocate those feelings.

"House, Cameron and I have known each other for years now. You can tease her about being 'easy' but it wasn't like we slept together when we first met. I really don't think she'd do that, not Cameron…unless she actually felt something for him."

Chase had been doing a great job of reassuring him and settling his worries that FBI Guy had really swooped in and stolen his girl, but that last line was the one thing that echoed through his mind and completely pushed out the notion of comfort.

"So who else is there then? She doesn't exactly have 'friends' here, there and everywhere. She practically lives at this hospital, so who else would she have 'gotten to know' well enough to take a tumble with?"

His temper was starting to get the better of him, and Chase was regarding him with a worryingly challenging glint in his eyes. He clearly thought House should leave her alone and let her personal life stay private – not that House would ever leave an unsolved puzzle alone until he had the answer – but there was a question in his eyes too, a suspicion that was waiting to be revealed.

"Why does this bother you so much, House? Is it because you weren't the one I heard distracting her on the other end of the phone this morning?"

House gave him a look of his own, telling him silently that he wasn't even going to grace such a ludicrous suggestion with an answer, because sarcasm didn't need to be wasted on such. As he turned and limped out of the room, his knuckled white with gripping the cane so tightly, he grudgingly admitted that Chase had read him disturbingly well. But it had also given him a cunning idea of how to perhaps find out if Booth had been the lucky guy.

--

He wasn't averse to some good old-fashioned breaking-and-entering. Especially when he was about to lose something he wanted to keep hold of. And he needed an answer. If Cameron wouldn't give it to him straight, then he'd find out for himself.

It didn't take a genius to figure out where she kept her spare key, and seeing as he actually was a genius, he found it with ease.

"In the vase on the hallways windowsill, right opposite your door? Real smart, Cameron."

He muttered with a shake of his head as he slipped the key into the lock and opened it, proceeding to let himself in before pocketing her key. Its gentle weight in his pocket proved somewhat comforting. With it, he had access to everything that was her…and he could forget the fact that he was fast losing her. Having possession of her key gave him something physical to hold onto, when he couldn't physically hold her. Quietening the sentimental thoughts that were analysing her door key way too much, he awkwardly made his way through her apartment, glancing around and taking in every piece of her he could identify.

Reminding himself exactly why he had broken into her place brought his mindset back to where he wanted – with the easy pretence of indifference towards her – and in very little time he'd found Booth's note. It was still sat on the kitchen counter, beckoning to him like a flare.

'I really enjoyed last night and I like being your wake-up call. I want to see where this can go. I hope we can have a repeat of last night sometime soon.

S

x'

Reading the note aloud twice, he crinkled his nose in distaste and had the urge to rip it in half. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, and seeing the signed 'S' only confirmed his suspicions that she had indeed slept with Seeley Booth. But Chase's words echoed through his mind, churning a nervous energy in the pit of his stomach as he thought about what this could mean.

"I really don't think she'd do that, not Cameron…unless she actually felt something for him."

And he silently acknowledged to himself that this was why he didn't hold feelings with any regard. They caused too much heartache and pain when she broke your heart, as inevitably – according to you – she would.

Slamming the note back onto the kitchen counter, House, being his typical self, wasn't satisfied with something as simple as the note to prove one hundred percent the identity of Cameron's not-so-mystery date. Really, he just wanted another excuse to continue his personal tour of her apartment. He was using it as a way to really see her, to see the person she kept hidden from him. There were hardly any photos in the living room, or at least no personal ones, but he did find some in her bedroom.

He was overcome with a strange sensation he couldn't quite place when he shuffled into her bedroom, but he immediately berated himself for it, murmuring out loud that it was 'just a room'. He almost knocked himself out with his own cane when his phone suddenly pierced the silence of the room with a shrill ring. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID.

"Cameron calling"

It announced and he smirked, pressing the 'reject' button and turning the phone off altogether. If only she knew.

He managed to find his focus once more and for a few brief moments he let his eyes return to her bed. He forced himself to switch his focus elsewhere…that is, once he managed to tear his eyes away from her bed – surprisingly neat considering the images that had danced through his mind, taunting him, at the idea of the wild night she'd undoubtedly had the evening previous. His eyes finally tore from the bed and found the photos that had been lacking in the living room. They adorned her dresser, not many, but adding a sense of personal attachment to a family he'd never heard her talk of. Perhaps that was her way of employing the self-preservation tactics he used so easily.

There was a family photo from when she was much younger and his fingers skimmed the gold photo frame as he picked it up. Mother, father, older brother, older sister and the tiny little thing on her brother's shoulders, House surmised to be Cameron, round about five years old. He cursed himself when he realised it had brought a small smile to his expression and instantly replaced it with a scowl.

Moving along to the next pictures, he consciously maintained that scowl as he brought another photo closer for inspection. A teenage Cameron, looking stunning in a Cinderella-style pink prom dress with her arm delicately linked through the arm of a tall and handsome boy in a tux, both smiling at the camera. He hadn't seen her smile like that in…well, he couldn't remember if he'd ever seen her smile like that. Genuine happiness shone from her, even through the medium of an old photograph, and he gentle ran his calloused fingers over it before placing it down and moving on.

He told himself this was entirely for educational purposes…of course it wasn't that he was so completely absorbed by her that he was grasping at anything he could learn about her from these photographs. This was solely to help him finally solve the Cameron puzzle that had baffled him since the moment he'd met her.

The last picture he saw on the dresser made his breath hitch. She was wearing a wedding dress, simple and elegant and reaching the floor, as she once again smiled at the camera, completely happy with her husband by her side, a matching smile on his face. But his eyes barely registered her husband. They were caught on the sight of her, and he was mesmerised by how much she reminded him of an angel in her pure white dress, her hair down and falling gracefully on her shoulders. She was leaning slightly in toward her husband, flowers in her hands and the simple backdrop of the photo only emphasising how beautiful she looked, emphasising the 'happy couple'.

He dropped the photo back onto the dresser as though he'd been scalded, and quickly regained his balance, leaning on his cane slightly heavier than before, as he moved away from the photos.

A cursory glance around the rest of the room piqued his observation skills when he saw the undoubtedly masculine belt draped over on of the posts of her bed. Smirking as he snagged it from its resting place, he inspected it and he knew for sure he was spot on with his presumptions. The belt buckle proudly proclaimed 'Cocky', and House distinctly remembered Booth wearing such a belt the day Cuddy dumped him with the two extra people to bother him. Bingo. He had his proof. Now to employ the death threats he'd already began to prepare when he'd first assumed Booth to be the one who bedded Cameron.

--

"Where the hell have you been? We've been calling and paging you!"

Cameron was obviously still pissed at him due to their altercation that morning, and as soon as House had walked – or rather, limped – into his office, Cameron had pounced on him, and not in the way he wished.

Chase and Foreman were with him, along with Brennan, which made House immediately suspicious as to where Brennan's ever-present partner was. After all, he had a certain bone to pick with him. As he brushed Cameron's anger off and moved past her, House didn't miss the glares Brennan was shooting Cameron's way – which he found very intriguing – though Cameron herself seemed blissfully ignorant of them, too caught up on venting her anger at House.

"Didn't hear it."

House answered simply, knowing full well that his apathy would wind her up even more. But damnit, he couldn't help but find her sexy when she was angry. Winding someone up had never been as much fun as it was when Cameron was on the receiving end. Chase sighed wearily and spoke up, explaining why they'd been so anxious to reach him with numerous pages and phone calls.

"The patient flatlined in the OR, right after you left. They got him back, but only just. His body's rejected the new kidneys and his liver's shutting down. He's still in a coma and his EKG is fluctuating."

For a few moments, House's attention was taken away from all thoughts of Cameron and Booth, and the patient's puzzle was getting larger and more intriguing by the minute.

"Any signs of tumours, or have you not bothered to check that yet?"

Chase gingerly took the chart from Cameron, who was still levelling her withering glare on their boss.

"Well, we did MRIs when he was admitted but there were no signs of tumours that we could see. His serum calcium and sodium levels have been decreasing too, so not likely to be tumours."

"It could be an infection. He was immunocompromised for the transplant, so he couldn't fight off whatever infection could have been attacking his body and as soon as it had free reign, it attacked other organs as well as its source."

Foreman supplied, drumming his fingers against the desk before him as he processed his thoughts. House snatched the file from Chase and glanced over it, before tossing it on top of his desk.

"Run an EKG. Look at the mitral valve for any cardiac cirrhosis."

Chase and Foreman made for the door, but Cameron stayed still, her eyes locked on House.

"Malignant Boutonneuse fever could explain the kidney and liver failure, as well as the hyponatraemia and hypocalcaemia."

Both stopping in the doorway, her co-workers turned to address her diagnosis and looked to House, gauging his reaction. It was a good diagnosis, and all of them knew it. Even Brennan seemed mildly impressed, and she'd stayed quiet throughout their game of symptom and diagnosis tennis.

With a wave of his hand, House finally replied.

"Run the EKG. If there's cirrhosis check for congenital heart defects…and test for thrombocytopenia too while you're at it, keep Cameron from throwing her toys out of the pram."

Cameron couldn't help the smile from forming on her lips. Their relationship might be strained, but he wasn't going to risk the patient's life just to spite her. And it was a good diagnosis. If there was cirrhosis caused by a congenital heart defect, or by new-onset heart disease, then it was applicable that Boutonneuse fever could be the root cause. The patient had visited various Mediterranean countries in the last ten years, and even though asymptomatic infection with the fever was rare, it wasn't completely unheard of. If he had picked up the fever and it had lain dormant, the onset of heart problems would have triggered complications in the Boutonneuse fever and caused the malignancy.

Brennan followed Chase and Foreman as they left, Cameron pausing a moment in the doorway, maintaining eye contact with House, before continuing to follow her co-workers. Even after she'd turned away, his gaze followed her retreating form.

--

How could he lose her? She challenged him, constantly, and he thrived on it. She made him an even better doctor than he already was, as much as he would never admit that, and she was so bright and…young. That had been where most of his issues had been at first. She was almost two decades young than him, and that surely had some bearing on a possible relationship. But as he'd found out more about her, managed to piece together the few pieces of her puzzle that he'd been able to decipher, the age difference barely registered with him. If she didn't care about it, still wanted him regardless, then why should he have those reservations?

But now…Booth had shown up and the threat of losing her was real. She wouldn't have slept with him, or so Chase said, unless she had some kind of feelings for him. He didn't doubt that her feelings for Booth weren't anywhere comparable to what she felt, or at least, had felt, for House himself, but any feelings were dangerous, when he found it so easy to push her away and so hard to let her in. If he pushed hard enough, which he was sure he already had, then she was only justified in investing her interest in someone who would at least reciprocate on a level he was terrified of.

As though on cue, Booth's form filled the doorway, casting an elongated shadow across the floor, taunting House as he followed it and coldly met his eyes. Neither spoke for a few moments, but both could feel something hanging in the balance between them. That 'something' in question was the certain beautiful, young and damaged doctor who constantly played on his mind, even if she wasn't around.

"You just missed her. She's gone to actually do her job. It's quite an interesting concept, you should try it sometime."

Throwing cold words at Booth didn't help their situation, but it was his own outlet for the contempt bubbling beneath his surface. House acknowledged that he and Booth probably wouldn't have gotten along even if Cameron weren't in the centre of their tug of war. They were very different personalities and even being in the same room as each other wound them up. Cameron had inadvertently tossed them into the confines of the coliseum to fight to the death. And neither would back down, so they would fight to the death. For her.

Who had the upper hand? House smirked at the suit-clad federal agent. They were in his office. His domain. His universe. And Allison Cameron was and always would be his. They were a long way from Washington DC right now, and that made House secure in his reasoning.

"Something funny, Dr. House?"

"Just the fact that you really think you've got a shot with Cameron."

Booth didn't smile, didn't move. In fact, his body remained rigid as if he had been cast as a statue, forever enshrined for some deed he'd either accomplished greatly, or failed bravely. And he'd never been much for failing.

"If you have a problem with me dating Allison, just be a man and say it. Not that it'll change my mind in any way."

It was Booth's turn to smirk when he saw House's shoulders square defensively.

"One dinner and a night of riding the stallion hardly qualifies as dating."

And he was ready for this one. The words leaving his mouth were not in his control, and part of him regretted it before he'd even spoken.

"Ah, but you should have heard her screaming. I'm surprised you didn't. That girl's got a pair of lungs on her…a pair of something else rather beautiful as well. Although, not as beautiful as the look on her face when she was screaming my name as I gave her the best night of her life. Did you know that women can have hour-long orgasms? Neither did I until last night. Do you want me to continue?"

Booth knew that if Cameron had been anywhere around he'd possibly have earned a slap from her for using the clandestine details of their tryst against House in their verbal battle. But he'd said it now.

The silence engulfing them was charged with tension and neither men faltered, eyes piercing each other as House bubbled with fury. The involuntary images Booth had provoked in his mind were driving him crazy. He felt nauseous at the idea of the federal agent, who was currently stood in front of him, taking Cameron like that. His Cameron.

"You're too fat for her."

The words left his mouth and burned his tongue, as he acknowledged with an internal grimace, just how childish that had sounded.

"You're too old for her."

Booth knew exactly which buttons to press and that unnerved House. If Booth had been in the picture when Cameron had first tried to pursue a relationship with him, House knew he would have hit the nail on the head with that comment, but he'd managed to overcome the age barrier by now, so the slicing comment wasn't as hard hitting as it once might have been.

"You're shallow. Especially if you think age actually matters to her."

"You're an arrogant egotistical son of a bitch. Especially if you think you'd ever really have a chance with her."

"Well, she's been in love with me for three years, though she probably kept that salient detail from you. So who has the upper hand here, really?"

House and Booth were still locked in contemptuous glares and when he received no cutting comeback, House smirked. Apparently, as well as they'd got to know each other, Cameron had failed to mention her unrequited love for her boss. But then, he hadn't expected her to, as it would definitely have been a conversation killer. He was glad he'd had the opportunity to throw it back in Booth's face himself though, as the FBI agent's expression was priceless. He could resist continuing their battle.

"I'm also a genius doctor who saves lives deemed 'unsaveable'."

"Yet I have the use both of my legs and can get into positions with her that you could only dream of."

Maybe House could use Cameron's love for him against Booth, but Booth would continue to use the fact that he had been the one to get her into bed, not House. The icy comment about his leg had also caused a rush of pure, unadulterated hatred to course through him.

"I get to play God every day. If I wanted to kill someone, it'd be easier than you can imagine."

House waited for a response as their quick banter suddenly halted. He realised that perhaps he shouldn't have said that to an FBI agent but brushed that thought away. Moments passed and as House's loaded words hung between them, he saw a flash of utter darkness cross the agent's features. He'd hit a nerve.

"There's no glory in killing someone, Dr. House. Even you don't have that kind of stone-coldness to brag about it. Not if you're in love with Allison."

House was about to retort, to cover his tracks by shooting down the notion of love. But the words refused to reach his lips. Their verbal attack on each other had been fuelled by the very notion he was so quick to disparage. He did love Cameron, whatever 'love' could mean to him. But he'd never fully admit it. His defence mechanisms, so highly attuned to tend toward self-preservation, shot out condescending and disdainful interjections before he consciously had a chance to contemplate such trivialities as feelings. He was watching Cameron slip through his fingers, and the worst part was, his pride was simply letting it happen. Part of him was continually reminding him of his biggest fear.

"You're not good enough for her. You'll crush her."

He didn't feel he could be what she deserved, but that didn't mean he wanted her with a man who perhaps did deserve her. It would be easier on his heart if she could just stay alone…though even he acknowledged that this selfish reasoning would not help matters, and it wasn't realistic anyway. She needed reciprocation. She deserved it.

As Booth left, House thumped his cane against the carpet softly, before noticeably deflating under nobody's stare. Damn. Cameron would fall for the agent hook, line and sinker. And what was more frightening was that he honestly didn't know how he could win her back…or if he should even try.