The creaking of House's bedroom door woke him at what felt like an ungodly hour. He rolled onto his left side, looked in the direction of the hallway and saw nothing but dark space. House decided the night was playing tricks on him until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness but once they did, he was able to identify the shadowy figure as none other than Cameron.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked as sleepiness gave way to confusion, which then turned into irritation.

"I was cold," came the half-whisper from his left.

"Then grab another blanket. The closet's—" before House could finish his sentence, he felt her soft touch on the right side of his face.

He was momentarily stunned at the feel of her delicate hand caressing his cheek. House fought the urge to reach up and pull her down. He quickly snapped out of his haze. "Look Cameron, I don't think this is…"

"This is…what? Such a good idea? House, stop thinking so much. Just…just stop thinking altogether."

He could barely see her in this darkness, but sensed her drifting closer to him. He chose to follow orders for once and just stop thinking.

Cameron stepped closer and softly dropped her lips upon his in the gentlest touch imaginable. Just as quickly as it happened, her touch lifted. House wondered if he was still a little drunk and if the kiss was real at all until her next action expelled the doubts from his mind completely.

She confidently pushed him onto his back, swung her leg over his torso and lowered herself on top of his pelvis, which was quickly and involuntarily responding to her actions.

House did not question this sudden, seemingly random, act of desire. If she was willing, then who was he to deny her eagerness?

Cameron grabbed both sides of his face and brought her lips down to his with more force this time. He finally regained control of his limbs, raising his right hand to grasp her neck gently but with strength. She thrust her tongue forward and House opened his mouth to allow her entrance.

Cameron only offered him enough to keep him wanting more, it seemed. The more he pursued, the more she pulled away. He was becoming increasingly frustrated as her lips recoiled whenever he attempted to increase his exploration of her mouth.

Suddenly she pulled away altogether. The room was pitch black and he couldn't see a thing. Not the outline that was straddling him just a moment before, not even the twinkle in her eyes. House realized his eyes were shut and opened them as quickly as he could. The sun was shining in through his window.

He looked at his alarm clock and found that it was 8:30 a.m. House pulled the pillow from underneath his head and pressed the down cushion onto his face as a loud groan escaped his lips. Luckily, the pillow completely blocked the powerful sun from House's eyes and silenced his growl.

Had that been a dream? Of course it was, he deduced, ignoring the attentiveness of his lower extremity. Nothing that intriguing ever happened while he was sleeping.Sex dreams were not uncommon to House, but the subject of these dreams usually took the form of Angelina Jolie, Halle Berry, or sometimes both. Perhaps it was because Cameron was the last person he saw before he went to bed or maybe it was the recent roller coaster ride that was their relationship. This was not something he was about to analyze, however.

Without looking, House patted the top of his nightstand, manually searching for his Vicodin. After dry swallowing two pills, he rose from the bed and limped out of his room. He was alarmed to find that he was not alone.

Cameron was in his kitchen looking extremely comfortable, while House stood in the hallway looking completely uncomfortable. She was still wearing his t-shirt but had slipped on her jeans from the night before. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail with brown strands escaping the hold of her hair-tie. The scene was almost too homey.

"Have any good dreams?" She asked, waking him from his morning daze.

"No!" he answered hurriedly, wondering if she had some sort of ESP that could pick up on his insecurities.

"Whoa. I'm sorry I asked," she said without looking up from whatever she was cooking on the stove.

"No, it's just...what are you still doing here anyway? And what's with the shirt?" he asked defensively.

Cameron was slightly miffed by his questions but tried her best not to show it. Any weakness she expressed was just more ammunition for him. "I thought...I just wanted to show you my appreciation for letting me stay here last night so I thought I would make you breakfast. Then I checked your fridge and pantry and came to the realization that you live like an anorexic teenager. So I walked to that little store down the block and picked up a few things. And I'm sorry about the shirt. I'll take it off right now." She started walking toward the bathroom when he blocked her path.

"No, you don't have to. I mean…," he shook his head. "What did you get?"

Cameron slowly turned around and walked back into the kitchen area. "Um, just enough for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, some fruit, orange juice..."

"Sounds great. But replace the juice and fruit with black coffee and some Mickey Mouse-shaped chocolate chip pancakes."

"Oh sorry, I left my cookie cutters at home." She playfully smacked her forehead and muttered partially under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear, "why didn't I think ahead?"

Cameron cracked an egg into a bowl, careful not to drop any bits of shell. "How do you take your eggs?"

"Scrambled, with a little pepper and crushed Vicodin sprinkled on top."

She poured the scrambled eggs into the pan and began mixing. Cameron added some pepper but decided to leave out his requested garnish. She wouldn't take part in enabling his addiction.

"So what was it about?"

"What was what about?"

"The dream." She returned with a knowing smirk.

"I told you there was no dream," he replied, a little more calmly this time.

"Mhmm."

House was quickly losing his power over her so he said the first thing that came to his mind. "That shirt makes you look fat."

Cameron scrunched her eyebrows. "Are we back in the third grade? I mean, really, was that the best you could come up with?" She raised both arms in an inquiring manner, the spatula in her right hand adding to the randomness of it all.

"Just get back to cooking, woman."

xxxxxxxxxx

In a compromise between fruit and chocolate chip pancakes, Cameron had made crepes the way her grandma cooked them so many years ago. She placed the food on the table, scooping two crepes onto each of their plates. Even though he persistently complained about the lack of chocolate chips throughout the meal, House requested seconds and Cameron really wasn't surprised.

"So that was a good game," House said as a way to prevent an uncomfortable eating environment, a situation these two doctors were all too familiar with.

"Yea," she replied noncommittally.

"Not a Yankees fan?"

"Not really a baseball fan," Cameron said with an innocent smile.

"Seriously? Then why come over?" he asked with earnest curiosity.

She paused to think of the right answer but offered the truth instead. "You asked."

House ignored the subtle implication of her response. "How can any red-blooded American not like baseball?"

"It's not very exciting and it just…never ends," she answered with a look of distaste.

"Are you kidding?" He was surprised, more so that she disliked the sport than that she wanted to spend her whole evening watching a game that didn't appeal to her just because he had asked.

"No. I mean, I was always more into football anyway. It's much more entertaining. Less middle-aged guys with beer guts and more muscular men in tight pants."

"That's understandable…the exciting part, not the tight pants part." Cameron looked at him with an amused expression. He decided to quit digging himself into a deeper hole. "So, which team do you follow?"

"I used to watch The Bears but…I don't really follow them anymore," she replied.

"Did you grow up and finally realize that they suck?" House deadpanned.

"No, I just don't watch as much anymore. And what's with the third degree?"

"Hold on. You don't just stop liking something without a reason. Spill."

Cameron knew this was just like House to try and uncover every little mystery about someone's past. She was uncomfortable sharing information like this with anyone let alone House. There were times when Cameron felt a strange type of bond with him; she might even go as far as to say that they were becoming friends…in the dysfunctional sort of way that he made friends. However, his past behavior indicated that once he gained her trust, House would usually do something so extreme as to dash all the confidence and faith she held in him. And sharing with him a personal story was almost like releasing a mutated influenza virus into the hospital: stupid and would likely spread around the entire building by the end of the day. Cameron never did know when to hold back.

"I used to watch football all the time with my dad," she began hesitantly. "I remember every year at the beginning of football season he would say, 'This is their year, I can feel it.' It never was their year but it always reassured me to hear him say it. Anyway, my parents got divorced when I was 13 and my dad moved to Baltimore. No more football games, no more Sunday morning pancakes. I mostly saw him during holidays and it was never really the same. I guess I was never the same."

House noticed a distant look in her eyes, almost as if she were trying to remember something she had kept hidden for too long. Maybe she wasn't as perfect as the façade she maintained. Everyone has scars.

This was the most he had heard about her family and he wasn't about to say something to upset her. So he did what was appropriate and kept his mouth shut. Without words, House poked at the last crepe with his fork and plopped it on Cameron's plate. She offered him a silent smile as a way of saying thank you for more than just the crepe.

After they finished breakfast and Cameron loaded the dishwasher, she gathered her belongings, figuring it was time to leave.

"I had a nice time," she offered.

House nodded in return which didn't surprise Cameron in the least.

"I'll see you Monday."

"Right."

He closed the door and sat in the quiet of his now empty home.

A/N: I know, I've been completely absent. I just got a new computer and took a trip to Berkeley and I have a multitude of other excuses but I'm holding back. I start school in a week -bleh- so I can't promise steady updates and I'm not sure how much I like this chapter but it is really long so I hope that helps. Reviews will definitely encourage me to write some more! That wasn't a threat, btw...or maybe it was.