Disclaimer: Nope.

A/N: Hope the wait wasn't too bad. Here's something a bit longer to make it worthwhile.


Chapter 55 - Impasse
(Month 4, Week 1)

Cameron sat on their bed, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles on her jeans. She was on edge ever since she got the call two days ago; Sebastian Charles was in town, and he wanted to see her. She had agreed, probably not her wisest move. They'd met once or twice after he had been a patient at Princeton Plainsboro, but not since she married Greg. Understandably, she was nervous how both guys would react, especially since she hadn't told either about the other.

There was not much time left, and she had to get going if she wanted to be there in time. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and walked into the living room, where House lay on the couch, watching TV.

"Going somewhere?" he asked her, without turning his head.

Cameron nearly jumped out of her skin. She could swear this man had a sixth sense of some sort.

"I'm meeting Sebastian at that bar near the hospital," she admitted quietly.

"Sebastian. . . ?" He tapped the remote control against his thigh a couple of times, seemingly trying to connect the name with a face.

"Doctor Sebastian Charles," she replied with all of the confidence she could muster.

"And how long has this been going on?" House inquired, as he turned to look at her, his arm now draped across the backrest. She could tell that his calmness was just on the surface, like a thin sheet of ice on a lake. One wrong step, and you're drowning.

"There's nothing going on. We met a couple of times when he came for his refill."

Instead of responding, House turned back to the TV. Cameron's lips curled into a small smile. She walked over behind the couch and embraced him across his chest, leaning over the backrest.

"You're cute when you're jealous," she whispered into his ear.

"I'm not jealous," he muttered.

She gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek before sliding her hands slowly across his shoulders and then letting them fall against her sides.

"You have nothing to worry about," she said before walking out of the door.

# # #

The minutes ticked by slowly, and he was still alone in the apartment. He didn't like that one bit. If he had to play by the rules, then she sure as hell had to as well. Having late night dates with another man was a clear breach of their agreement, especially since Dr. Philanthropist was involved. He better plant his love for people in another man's garden, because he would have none of it.

One phone call and 15 minutes later, House walked across the bar, sitting down next to Wilson.

"I take it this is your emergency," Wilson said in a way of greeting, indicating towards the two doctors in a corner booth. They seemed to be having fun. Too much fun, for House's liking.

Taking his eyes off the couple, he ordered a Bourbon through gritted teeth.

"She would never cheat on you," Wilson said seriously.

House clutched the glass tightly the moment the bartender set it down in front of him and replied, "I don't care."

He downed the entire glass in several large gulps, feeling the fiery liquid burn down his throat. The act was far too ambitious, even for an experienced drinker like him, which he immediately felt as his eyes stung from holding back a cough. He couldn't take any chances. She should never know he was there.

"Then why are you spying on her?"

Another quick look at the couple before he ordered another shot. "If she breaks the rules, I win."

Wilson saw the doubt in House's eyes in the brief moment his friend looked at him.

"She won't sleep with him," Wilson repeated.

House stared at the amber liquid, swirling it inside the glass, creating small ripples that gradually grew into waves. The dim light in the bar reflected off their peaks. One small, slow sip this time.

"How do you know?"

Because she loves you? Because she'd never risk losing you? It would have been so much easier if he were allowed to tell the truth. How much of her confidence to betray?

A pause stretched between them until Wilson finally spoke, half-regretting each word as soon as it left his mouth.

"She fell in love with her husband's best friend."

That was all he said. It was all that needed to be said.

"That's guilt," House said after thoroughly analysing this new piece of information.

"You don't think she'd feel guilty if she cheated on you?" Wilson inquired, slightly surprised.

"Why should she?" House asked simply as he met his friend's eyes.

Wilson opened his mouth to respond, but then changed his mind just as quickly. Instead, he shook his head and looked away.

"You should tell her how you feel," he spoke again after a while, if only to stop House's drinking odyssey.

"And how do I feel?" House countered with derision.

Wilson shrugged, unwilling to actually voice his thoughts.

"You think I love her?" His tone was serious, his words coated with anger, yet not the kind that would make him a threat to anyone around him. It was directed inwards.

Your words, not mine. Wilson lowered his gaze.

"You know what, screw this. . . ." And with that he walked out of the bar, leaving a half-empty glass and a thoroughly guilt-ridden Wilson behind.

# # #

It was after midnight when Cameron locked the car door and headed towards House's apartment. She had had no intention of staying out this late, but somehow she felt she owed something to Sebastian. Why did she always have to feel so goddamn guilty about everything?

"You're married?"

Married. How could such a simple word be so heavy with meaning? Her eyes instinctively rested on her wedding band. Even though she was accustomed to it now, it wasn't quite a part of her yet. She wouldn't allow herself that.

"To House?"

She had never led him on. She told him that first time before he left that friends was all they were going to be. Denial and smoke screens aside, she only had eyes for one man.

"He did seem to have a thing for you back then."

That took her by surprise. It was always her that had a thing for House. Never the other way around.

"I love him."

The key fit neatly into the lock, making only the slightest noise before the door opened.

"Hope you don't mind me saying, but it seems awfully fast."

"I love him."

I love him.

I love him.

Strange, how the words slipped so easily from her tongue now.

She entered the darkness of his apartment, and her heart started beating faster. Dozens of ominous scenarios ran through her mind as she walked down the hallway. The doors slid open, and they were all replaced by guilt when she saw him lying in the bed. The darkness was heavy upon her shoulders, enclosing her into a dark cage that was his thoughts and feelings.

She wasn't willing to put her life on hold for him. And he had no right asking her. Still. . . .

She softly padded across the room and sat down on the bed. Even though his back was turned towards her, she could tell that he was awake.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and then immediately regretted her choice of words. She had nothing to apologise for.

"You're still sulking," she tried anew, with a lighter tone.

No response.

She placed her hand gently on his shoulder and leaned closer. "Greg. . . ."

Nothing.

She sighed. His warmth seeped through the thin material of his T-shirt, and the words were right there, on the tip of her tongue.

I love you. I was thinking of you the entire time I was talking to him. It felt as if you were there.

Instead, a single word slipped past her lips. "Please. . . ."

I would tell you everything if that was what you wanted.

She swallowed thickly and walked into the bathroom where the shimmering water mixed with her flowing tears.

She used to believe that ignorance is bliss. Now she knew that there was nothing worse than not knowing.


A/N: Perhaps some of you would prefer if there were more of a confrontation between House, Cameron and Dr. Charles, but I just didn't feel like it. It was mostly a subjective call, I would say, not in the least because there will still be plenty of yelling in the future.