Disclaimer: the author does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

Author's Note: I assign everyone to go read Homeostasis by NaiveEve. Don't even read chapter 10 yet, this is more important. At least, I know finishing it was more important than writing chapter 10.

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10

Cameron arrived at her usual time and performed her usual routine. However, none of it felt customary, each task was transformed in the light of her burgeoning new relationship with House. She performed each task consciously, ceremoniously. She remembered how she felt cooking in his home, the feel of his breath in her hair when he stole the bacon. She felt held by him, although he hadn't yet arrived.

The other ducklings trickled in, obeyed their respective routines as well. Chase worked his crossword; Foreman read a medical journal. She marveled at how it was like any other day, and yet so so different.

There was a knock at the glass, and Chase opened the door to admit a uniformed man. "Delivery for Allison Cameron?"

"That's me," she answered. She signed his proferred form; he didn't seem to have anything with him.

"Where would you like it?" She indicated the conference table, and he exited to the hallway. He returned and placed in the center of the table a massive, magnificent arrangement of white orchids. She thanked him as he left, and reached for the card. It read simply, "Thanks for the pasta. —Parker"

She smiled. She appreciated his clever way keeping things confidential as much as the sweetness and romance of the gesture. From anyone else flowers would seem cliché, but coming from House they were an eloquent and disarming message.

Chase took the note from her hands as Foreman asked, "Flowers from Parker?"

Cameron was happy when Chase answered for her by reading the note aloud; she wouldn't have to lie.

At that moment House breezed into the conference room. "Flowers. That's almost as trite as wine tasting. Hang on to this one, Cameron. He's a keeper." He walked over to help himself to the coffee she had prepared.

She beamed. 'I intend to,' she thought.

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Foreman and Chase piled into Wilson's office. He had nudged his bet with Foreman up to three-hundred the night before by phone, and he didn't know what to make of their appearance in his office. Had House told them?

"Parker's sent Cam orchids," Chase spilled.

"Did he?" Wilson watched Foreman with apprehension. He felt no remorse for taking advantage of him, just concern that he do a perfect job of it. It was Foreman's MO to only bet on a sure thing; this time the tables were turned.

"She looked ecstatic," Chase continued. "The question is, what had her so happy, Parker's flowers or House's reaction?"

They both looked at Foreman. He too was scheming, not wanting to scare them off a raise. "I've never seen her that happy, no matter how House reacted. I say she had a surprisingly good time with Parker and she's through with House. She looks like she got some."

Wilson choked on his coffee.

Chase answered, "Well I say she's just thrilled to get flowers so House will be jealous, and it worked. He's going to give in any tick."

"I'd be willing to double my bet with each of you," Foreman continued.

Chase and Wilson exchanged looks. "Done." Wilson nodded his agreement as well.

"So, it's once a week. If she doesn't ask him this week, I say I've won." Wilson and Chase agreed.

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House wordlessly flopped down into a chair at Wilson and Cuddy's table in the cafeteria. They were deep in conversation regarding the latest board meeting, and House did not interrupt. He removed the pickle slices from his sandwich and arranged them on the plate; dabbed each with mustard. Whenever he judged Cuddy's attention was otherwise engaged, he flung one at the wall. It became clear she had noticed but hadn't responded, so he increased the frequency of his offensive.

"Do you mind, that's very distracting," she reprimanded him.

"I was about to say the same about your love melons," he returned. "Wilson, how's the Dow Jones faring today?"

Wilson's brow furrowed. House was anything but concerned about the stock market. Then he cottoned on. "It's up five points." House whistled appreciatively. "There was some pretty heavy trading this morning."

"Any negative indicators?"

"If there's no change by Friday, the stock price will tank."

"I see."

"It's not lost on me that you're talking in code," Cuddy snapped.

"Ah, but that doesn't matter as long as you can't decipher it." House tossed his last pickle and took a huge bite of his Ruben.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "So mature." She picked up her chat with Wilson.

House considered Wilson's revelation. His share would be two-hundred fifty dollars—he wanted to spend it on her. As soon as the idea came to him, he interrupted Wilson mid-sentence.

"Cuddy, the houseketeers and I will all be out of the hospital Friday for a team-building retreat."

"YOU are taking THEM on a team-building retreat."

"You know: sit on the ground in a circle, talk about our feelings, sing kumbaya. Then if time allows, enjoy a hearty group hug and a moment of reflection on how the experience has changed us."

"If you just need a personal day—"

"If I just needed a personal day, I'd take one and leave the ducklings here to do your evil bidding."

"Okay," she shook her head. "Maybe it's a good idea."

"Okay," he said. He picked up his sandwich and carried it to his office. Now that he had the idea, he couldn't wait to plan the details.

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After Chase and Foreman left for the night, Cameron wasn't sure what to do. They had made no plans for the evening, hadn't even spoken privately since it happened. She slipped into his office. When he noticed her approach he nervously minimized his web browser. She noticed the subterfuge, but didn't see anything.

"You don't have to hide your porn from me," she teased.

"Well, that changes my plans for our entire evening."

"You have plans for our evening?"

"I do now that porn is on the table."

He stood and reached for her hips and pulled her over to lean against his desk in front of him. He took her face in his hands and gave a tender kiss. Then he kissed her forehead, which made her go all melty.

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his chest. "Thank you so much for the flowers," she whispered. He leaned down to kiss the part in her hair as he done during their first dance. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and inhaled deeply, just enjoying the sensation of holding her.

"Where should we go?" he asked.

She mumbled into his chest, "I don't want to go anywhere."

He shook his head. "Sorry, not ready to christen the office yet. Your place, however…"

Her mind skimmed over the myriad subtle ways his apartment was perfectly designed for his comfort, from the closely positioned furniture that allowed him to go cane-less, to the safety rail in his shower, to the lack of stairs. She was intensely flattered that he would give it all up to make her more comfortable.

"What about your home-field advantage?" she asked.

"Been studying your sports metaphors I see. Well, of course, you have everything I'd need, I imagine…"

"Such as?"

"Scotch."

"No."

"General Hospital Tivo'd."

"I don't have Tivo."

"That explains a lot about you."

She grinned. "I'd rather go back to your place. I didn't get to snoop at all."

"You wasted your morning."

"A mistake I don't intend to repeat."

He shrugged. "Fine with me. But we're taking the bike: I don't want you escaping like last time."