disclaimer: don't own. wish i did...(sigh)

Merrie: OMG I KNOW! I was laughing when I wrote that; it was such a him thing to do.
starfin: thanks! I was a little worried that no one would like it...but apparently i was wrong...
August: yupperz! you know there's more (only a few more chapters...i guess)

Author's Note: okay, i might LIVE in baltimore (very close to St. Joe's, actually) but i have noooooooo idea what goes on there. i'm far from being a doctor. so excuse me if my loverly assumption is way off.

Wilson walked by House's office, only glancing up to see his friend staring at his desk. He continued walking, having no intention of stopping.

Unfortunately, due to the fact that A) House was always doing something and now he was doing ...nothing, and B) he was staring at his desk, curiosity got the better of Wilson and he came to lean in the doorway. "Having fun?"

"Loads," House said without missing a beat. "I'm going to buy some cotton candy and then go on the Tilt-A-Whirl next."

"Really?" He made his way into the room. "And here I was thinking that your next ride would be the 'I MISS CAMERON' band wagon."

House finally looked up, brow furrowed. "Do we even have one of those?"

"Yup. Foreman and Chase founded it when the third 'New Guy' was hired and then quit." He shook his head as he said, "Can I just ask you what it is you do to them that makes them run away?"

"According to Cuddy, it's my breath.Apparently to them I'm a fire breathing monster. Which is funny, because I don't remember eating anything spicy recently." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you in my office?"

Wilson shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood." He moved closer to House's desk and leaned down. "What you got there?"

Almost immediately, House's two strong hands snatched the envelope off the messy stack and clutched it to his chest. "It's mine," he frowned. "Get your own."

Wilson smiled a little, heading for the door. "Fine," he called, walking out and hiding where House couldn't see him, recieving an odd look from a nurse when she passed him.

Once House was sure that it was safe, he slid a lean finger under the glued down flap and inched it along, the paper tearing. No sooner had he taken the letter out when Wilson bolted back in and snatched up the envelope.

"Hey!" House protested, though his attempt went unheard. "That's mine. I told you this."

Wilson's eyes lit up when he saw the return address. "Oh...Greg! I do believe that this is from a certain Dr. Cameron..."

House snorted, trying to ignore the irritatingly pleasant tingling in his chest when Wilson said her name. "Please." He threw the letter onto his desk. "As if I was going to read it."

Wilson picked up the letter, too, commenting, "Then why'd you open it?" He cleared his throat and began to read. "'Dear Dr. House...how are things? Things are great here in Baltimore, and the weather is actually warmer than in Jersey. How is everyone on the team? Good, I hope. By the way, I've met a devastatingly handsome man MY OWN AGE AND WHO RESPECTS ME AS A WOMAN and we're so'-"

The letter was promptly snatched back from him, and House's alarmed crystal eyes skimmed the page. He snapped his head up and glared at Wilson. "You just made that entire thing up," he accused. "You demon. You evil, evil man."

"I did no such thing," Wilson stated. "But...what's that glint in your eye?" He gasped, pointing a finger accusingly at House. "You're jealous," he whispered, delighted. "Oh, this is too good." He walked out of House's office, saying, "I'm so telling her."

"So good to know we're both grown-up men," House muttered, then settled in his chair to read the real contents of Cameron's letter.

And he was in the middle of re-reading that letter for the tenth time an hour later when Cuddy called him into her office.

A FEW DAYS LATER, BALTIMORE, MD

Cameron sighed as she sat down in her large, comfy chair. She raised her coffee cup to her lips and inghaled its bittersweet aroma. She took a sip, savouring it's warmth.

It had been an uneventful day at St. Josephs; she'd had clinic, and had had to deal with runny noses and physical examinations all day. Now...she could rest.

There were a few, loud, sharp raps at her door, accompanied by the ringing of her doorbell. She sighed and stood up, walking over as the doorbell rang a few more times. "I'm coming," she said, unlocking the deadbolt and the lock above the key hole. She swung the door open. "May I..." Her voice trailed off as she realized who was standing on her Welcome mat.

"House...?"

"So let me get this straight," Cameron said, handing a cup of coffee to House, who was comfortably sprawled out on her recliner. "Cuddy orders you to take a vacation because you're terrifying everyone, and you choose to come...here?"

"Mmm," House said, holding the mug away from his face and inspecting it. "I like this coffee. Where'd you get it?"

"There's a Starbucks down the road. Anyway, you randomly choose to travel to Baltimore, and decide that instead of wasting money on a hotel, you'd show up at my house-unannounced-and stay with me?" She sat down on her couch, curling her feet underneath of her. She lifted her cup to her face and raised an eyebrow at him over it. "How'd I do, Doc?"

"Pretty damn good," he said, placing the mug on a coaster. "So where am I sleeping tonight?" He grimaced in the direction of her couch. "Hopefully not on that."

She rolled her eyes and stood up, taking one of his bags and heading for the stairs. "Don't worry; this used to be a family home so there are extra rooms." She tossed a grin at him over her shoulder. "You get the frilly pink one."

He stared at her while she continued up the stairs. "You're kidding, right?"

He had woken up in the middle of the night for what started out as a nagging need for a Vicodin fix. He got out of bed and rubbed his hand across his chest in discomfort. He had never been one to wear pajamas (or anything) to bed, but since he was staying in Cameron's house, he was pretty sure he had to.

It was either that, or get smacked.

After he had dry swallowed a pill, he was heading back to the bed when he heard it. Coming from across the hall, weakly and softly, was the sound of Cameron's crying.

Debating on whether or not to go to her or the bed, his inner softy won out with a tremendous cheer for the former. He limped across the hall and sat heavily on the foot of her bed. She rolled over in her sleep, and he was alarmed to feel something in his chest constrict painfully when he saw the tear tracks on her cheeks.

He rolled his eyes and shifted further up themattress until he was sitting against the headboard. A tentative hand reached out and softly cupped...he gulped...her bare shoulder. Sure, she was wearing a tanktop, but there was the whole issue of touching her bare skin...

He had to stifle his cry of surprise when she rolled over and hugged his middle, burying her damp face into his Rolling Stones tee. After a few minutes, however, it began to feel kind of right to have her arms wrapped around him.

Passing the feeling off as being induced by lack of sleep, he began to drift off, one hand still gliding up and down her back.

TBC...