A/N: I'm so terribly sorry that this chapter took so long to get out. Excuse time: School has been extremely hectic (university quarter system, ugh), too many midterms and papers due at the same time, sleep-deprivation (sorry if this chap. makes no sense), sadness over canon, and my indecision about where to take this story next have all played a role in making me such a terrible updater. Anyway, I think I'm finally starting to get somewhere with this fic. There's not too much happening in this chapter but it will pick up soon. I hope you like it!!

p.s. Why did they have to go and change this website's layout?


To the average middle class worker, Monday morning was a dreadful time when weekend comfort was replaced by weekday stress. To Dr. Allison Cameron, however, it was her favorite time of the week. Not because she enjoyed her job more than any other person. It was because the newness of the week allowed her to believe anything was possible. Perhaps it was her eternal optimistic nature that brought about these feelings or maybe she was just an overly hopeful person. This could be the week she won the lottery or the most interesting case arrived on the doorstep of the Diagnostics office.

Her blossoming friendship with House was nothing to frown about either.

She mentally cursed herself for feeling anything besides admiration for his great mind and refused to admit that she secretly hoped he would take her in his arms and carry her into the sunset.

This wasn't the House she knew, nor would he ever become such a romantic cliché. Cameron knew he wasn't the most selfless or caring individual, but that didn't stop her from enjoying nearly every second she was around him. She had tried on too many occasions to ignore his faults and live in an idealistic haze, but House would never be the kind of man she needed. The kind of man that would stop at nothing to make her feel good or in the very least, open up enough to let someone else in. Cameron needed someone who could reciprocate love and to the best of her knowledge, House could never do that. Would never do that.

But that was something she wouldn't think about. Work was work and her personal life was something she preferred keeping out of the office. Unfortunately, some things were just out of her control.

She arrived at work precisely at 7:30 on a particularly gloomy day. Cameron entered the conference room before any of her peers had arrived. She dropped off her purse and a small plastic bag at her regular station, prepared a large pot of coffee, and finally took a seat at the conference table. She grabbed the large stack of unsorted mail and began separating the letters. Letters asking for Dr. House's attendance at a seminar or as a guest lecturer were immediately tossed in the trashcan. Thank you notes were pushed to the side for Cameron to respond to later and letters requesting a consultation were kept in a maybe pile for further examination. Cameron knew the type of case that House would respond to and those were usually not the kind that came in the mail. She sighed over the separated piles of mail and began the tedious task of playing secretary.

"Doctors never win the lottery," she muttered to herself.

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"House!" she called out with authority and confidence.

He slowly turned around wondering how Cuddy always managed to track him down within seconds of his arrival. Maybe he would start checking his clothing for small electronic devices. "I swear I've done all my clinic hours for the week and if I haven't…then blame Chase."

"I'm not here about your clinic hours even though I should be. I found you a case." She handed him the file and was about to leave when she remembered something else. "Oh, did everything get sorted with Dr. Cameron?"

"I've taken care of it." House brushed her off with as much indifference as he could muster.

She narrowed her eyes warily. "Remember, House. If you did something that—"

"Step off, already!" He strode past her to the elevators and punched the button with more force than necessary. Cuddy crossed her arms debating whether or not to push the subject, but decided this was probably a matter that did not involve her.

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As Cameron was politely declining the third written request for a consultation, Foreman and Chase walked through the door arguing; the subject of said argument did not interest Cameron in the least. Just as the discussion settled down as the two agreed to disagree and Cameron scribbled House's signature on the last note, their boss entered the room with folders in his free hand.

Chase immediately spotted the stack of files. "Do we have a case?"

"What's the magic word?" House baited.

Chase bit his lip in aggravation. "Do we have a case…please?"

"I love it when you beg. Thirty-three year old male…" House messily scrawled the symptoms on the white board. The case was less than thrilling on the surface, but the team's track record assured each of them not to write it off just yet. "Go."

"Tuberculosis," Foreman said quickly.

"Doesn't explain the joint pain," Cameron pointed out.

"Okay, Tuberculosis and he runs too much," he added.

Chase rolled his eyes at the implausibility of such a diagnosis…especially the second time in a span of a few months. "Yes, that sounds good considering TB is so common in this region. Rheumatoid Arthritis."

"The file says here that James came in complaining about joint pains. There are no signs of inflammation," explained Cameron.

House raised his eyebrows affectedly. "Already on a first name basis with the guy? Maybe we should actually diagnose the patient before you jump into his gurney."

Cameron only rolled her eyes in the direction of her boss knowing that showing anger was exactly what he expected. The rest of the team chose to ignore House's insensitivity completely.

"Just because joint inflammation is not in the file, doesn't mean it's not there," Chase shot back.

"A heart disorder?" Cameron suggested, wasting no time on Chase's diagnosis.

"Sarcoidosis," Foreman said halfheartedly.

"And there it is!" House half glanced at his watch. "Only took—"

"—Sarcoidosis fits if the patient is experiencing—"

"Alright, alright. Do a chest X-ray, draw some blood, and get a detailed patient history. If he just returned from a month-long safari in Africa, be sure to take a mental note," he said dismissively.

All three doctors left the room quickly, dividing the tasks between them.

House remained in the room, staring at the white board. He was already bored with this case.

Stepping into his office, he slammed the door shut hoping to ward off any unwanted visitors, a rarity for him but he wasn't about to take any chances. House stuck the small iPod buds in his ears and turned the volume up to its nearly maximum level. He mostly used the music to help him think; clearing his mind of all things medical usually produced results quicker than slaving over files and journals.

Instead of a clear head, however, Wilson's inane words from last night were still reverberating through his mind. Only the most desperate man feels the need to play matchmaker at every available opportunity, House decided. It was a completely casual evening that Wilson had, once again, blown up to mean more than it did.

Sure, the evening was filled with friendly banter and the occasional serious chat between the young immunologist and her grumpy boss. Sure, he found his female subordinate incredibly attractive and if it were almost any other woman, he'd be mildly interested.

But this was Cameron. The damaged girl with a damaged past and a desire for all things damaged. Getting involved with her in any manner besides professional was something that could never happen. The reasons why it would never work severely outnumbered the reasons why it might. It was absurd for anyone to think that it could end in any other way besides disaster.

Still with all of this rationalization, why couldn't he stop thinking about her?