As promised, the 'not-a-date' from Cameron's POV.

Disclaimers: Nope, don't own them. Just playing with them for a while. The music's not mine either. "Hot Buttered Rum" belongs to the Red Clay Ramblers, and "The Stranger" belongs to Billy Joel.

Cameron

I awakened to the sound of a piano playing in the distance. It didn't sound like a recording, but instead something gentle and soothing, followed by a distinctive growling baritone. House…Greg. I was starting to get reoriented to my surroundings. Oh, right…Chinese food, movies, some awkwardness…but that doesn't explain why I'm under a blanket that smells distinctly like Wilson…Of course, Wilson's been know to crash out here from time to time, and it's fair to assume that laundry is not high on Greg's priority list. I smiled to myself, trying to imagine Greg and Wilson working out any kind of living arrangement. Modern day 'Odd Couple'…no wonder Wilson stays at a hotel between wives.

…"In the dead of winter…if springtime never comes, you're my sweet maple sugar, honey…hot buttered rum." The song was oddly sentimental, not something I would have imagined him playing. It was dark and gloomy, but a bit hopeful. Maybe it wasn't such an odd choice after all. It seemed very…Greg.

"That was beautiful." I mumbled from the couch, not quite awake yet.

"Did I wake you up?"

"It's fine. I can think of worse ways to wake up." And a few better ways, too…whoa, where did that come from? Slow down, Cam. He *almost* trusts me now…don't wreck it. I wrapped the blanket around myself against the chill of the apartment and made my way to the piano bench. Greg gestured me to sit down.

I settled in next to Greg as he continued playing. "So…what song were you playing just then?"

"Old song my mom used to sing. She listened to all kinds of music, and I guess that one just stuck with me." I rested my head on his shoulder in an uncharacteristically bold move as he played the chords. "When gloves and boots and woolen parkas bring cold comfort to the heart…and bitter memories freeze the tongue…and words of love are left unsung…In the dead of winter, when the cold feelings come…you're my sweet maple sugar, honey…hot buttered rum."

The song ended and the notes died away. We sat in silence for a few moments. "That was very…you. It's a bit sad, a bit gloomy, but it's a bit romantic, too. It's like…even though it's cold, nasty, and horrible outside, you've got this one person that makes it all…tolerable." Wow, did he choose that for me? No, he couldn't have. That would be *completely* out of character for him. He would never be that obvious. Lovely song, though. I wonder if it's recorded anywhere? I wouldn't mind having that on my I Pod.

Greg scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I never thought about it like that before." Oh bullshit. Why can't you just come out and say what's on your mind?! I snuggled closer to him, trying to give him a small push in the right direction. He did manage to take his hands off the keyboard and wrap an arm around my shoulders. He sat there for a moment, lightly caressing my arm, but making no other move. If anything, he seemed to freeze up just then.

Well, if he's not going to make a move…I turned to him and pressed my lips to his. They were surprisingly soft against my own, and I leaned further into the kiss. I wrapped my arms around his waist while pressing my tongue against his lips, pressing for entry. He let me in, then proceeded to push forward with his own. I felt his rough hands rake through my hair as we continued to press into each other. Holy HELL he's a good kisser. How the hell has he managed to stay single?! Oh, yeah, there is that abrasive personality thing…oh my GOD he's good…I've got to slow this down before things get too out of hand…I wasn't prepared for all that…whew.

We broke apart after what seemed like ages, resting against each other's foreheads, panting slightly.

"Damn." Greg's voice was ragged.

"Yeah." Mine sounded equally rough. Small wonder, given the intensity of our encounter.

"…Now what?"

Oh...damn…I hadn't thought that far ahead. I should go now, before things get more out of hand. I don't want to do something we'll both regret. Some 'date-not-a-date'. Maybe I shouldn't have done that…but it's not like I regret it. Damn, I could kind of get used to that. If he's that good now…STOP. Don't go there. You're getting *way* ahead of yourself. You're not even dating him, for Christ sake. Calm down.

"I think I should go." I rose from the piano bench and made my way to the couch to put on my shoes. Greg heaved himself to his feet and paced around the living room as I laced up my shoes.

Finally, after a long silence, Greg spoke. "I'm sorry, Cam."

Wait a minute. I all but shoved my tongue down his throat and *he's* the one apologizing? What's wrong with this picture? "Sorry for what?"

Greg rocked back and forth, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "This wasn't a date. I just…I shouldn't have done…" He waved his hand around uselessly. "…that."

I don't believe this. Did he forget that *I* hit on *him*? I walked over to him until I was face to face with him, lifting my chin so I could look him in the eye. "Let me tell you something, Greg." I poked him in the chest for emphasis. "I did not do one thing that I didn't want to do." Greg looked a bit stunned at my boldness. I was a little surprised at myself, too. "And that includes kissing you silly, you old geezer." I couldn't resist one more jibe at his age.

I took his hands in mine and got as close to him as I possibly could. "Don't you *ever* apologize for something like that ever again. Especially when you clearly have a…gift for it." Gift. Yeah, that's certainly one way to put it. Wow. Damn. I resisted the urge to deeply kiss him again and settled on a gentle peck on the lips. "Good night, Greg."

He wrapped those long arms around me in a full, warm hug, returning my kiss with a soft one of his own. Dear diary…Gregory House actually expressed affection. Will alert media in the morning. "Good night, Cam." His voice seemed to trail off as I started to head out the door. "Cam, wait!" I turned around at the sharp tone in his voice. "I…uh…wanted to ask you something."

His eyes had that unfocused look again, betraying his discomfort. "Would you like to…go out?" Is he asking me out on a…date? The world has gone mad. Definitely. He cleared his throat and continued. "It should be a pretty decent day tomorrow. Thought maybe you'd like to go for a ride, maybe get something to eat. Totally casual, of course." The motorcycle ride had definitely been the best part of our date from hell. I'd never been on a bike prior to that, but Greg was a good driver, if a bit of a speed demon, and I had utmost confidence in his skills.

"Of course. Call me around noon. I should be up and around by then."

"Noon sounds…perfect." Greg smiled and leaned down, giving me one last little smooch. Smooch? That is *so* junior high. Very sweet, though. "Good night, Cam. Drive safely and all that…you know."

I walked out the door, feeling just a little dazed after the evening's events. The door closed behind me and I made my way down the steps to my car. As I climbed in and turned the ignition, my thoughts turned to the evening I had shared with a certain cantankerous old doctor. Tonight he showed a side of him I never expected…sweet, funny, insecure, and damn, he had quite the…uh…tongue action. No matter what happened between the two of us, I would never be able to see Greg quite the same way again. I turned on the CD player, not remembering what was in there last. The opening strain's of Billy Joel's 'The Stranger' flowed through my speakers. Right then, I couldn't think of any song that summed up Greg more appropriately. I chuckled and turned for home, looking forward to tomorrow's…what was it exactly? Perhaps it would be better to let it go undefined. Definitely less stressful all around. 'Not-dating' Gregory House was turning out to be an interesting experience, to say the least.

Sooo...Is it a date, or isn't it? Will it matter? Either way, it should be a fun ride. Stay tuned. :) Keep on reading and reviewing.