Author's Note: I like this story, which means I will continue. Those years of piano finally paid off. Verity Kindle, thank you for the critique. I didn't like underlings either, but couldn't think of a term to replace it. "Employees" sound much better. Thanks everyone for the reviews!

Well it goes like this:

The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift

The baffled king composing Hallelujahs

Hallelujah…Hallelujah…Hallelujah…Hallelujah...

House looked down at the grace note. He had stopped playing when he heard a soft whimpering at his door. He thought it was a lost cat or something that needed shelter for the night. He wouldn't take it in, of course, but perhaps he'd call the SPCA to come down and take it away in the morning.

Instead, when he cracked the door open, a seemingly distraught Allison Cameron sprawled back onto his living room floor.

"What in God's name are you doing!" He exclaimed.

"Nothing, I swear, I was just…"

"Stalking me? Obsessing? Sitting outside my door hoping that some greater deity would inform me of your presence…Oh, wait, you're an atheist. Let me rephrase. Were you sitting outside my door hoping that my ESP would pick up on your obvious desire to get in my house and then my pants?"

He knew he would sting her with the comments, but there were facades he had to maintain in life, and the sharp edge was one of them. His sarcasm was an edifice of heartbreak.

She stood up rather hurriedly and steeled herself. He saw the skin around her eyes barely crinkle as she chuckled.

"You…are…paranoid," she said between laughs.

He looked at her. She was…laughing? At him!

"Get out of my house."

She looked at him. This was not the Allison Cameron he dealt with every day in the hospital.

"How many drinks have you had?"

"None."

"Liar."

"That's what you think."

"Everyone lies."

"You're wrong."

"I'm always right."

"Not about that."

"Of course I am. You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes, I do."

"Another lie."

"House, I watched my best friend and then my husband die in the space of five years. You don't know what you're talking about."

The line had been crossed and she had made a mistake. He was angry and came up to her.

"My very serious girlfriend left me for my physical therapist after my…leg…My mother and father died when I was ten and I was brought up by wolves. Happy now?"

"No."

"I'd forcibly throw you out, but I can't. You're a stupid, stupid girl, Cameron."

"I know."

"You're going to get hurt."

"I like pain."

"You like pain? The kind that stabs you in the heart and twists itself over and over again, lacerating your arteries? You like the pain of forgotten birthdays and missed anniversaries? You don't. Another lie. Three, four, now?"

He was startled as she put her hand on his chest, letting her fingers spread equally on the picture of The Who.

"I could push you over," she whispers.

He didn't respond.

"I could. I might. You said you wouldn't crush me. I appreciate that, so I won't crush you. I could make you look stupid now. I knew my husband was dying, but I married him anyway. Stupidity, House, takes many forms."

He looked at the hand on his shirt.

"If I did that to you, you'd be screaming sexual harassment. Well, not you, since you have this unfound fascination for me, but Cuddy if she saw it. Stupidity, dear Dr. Cameron, may seem to you to be under many aliases, but it is what it is. Some people just like to…sugarcoat it to make it more…acceptable. Niceness, for example. A horrible trait, and a good excuse for stupidity."

"Get off your high horse, House. You aren't a saint. Don't act like one."

"None of us are saints. We're all sinners and it's the sinners that win and the saints that lose. Face it, Cameron, being nice gets you nowhere."

"Yes, it does. At least when I go to bed at night I can say I did the right thing. How about you?"

"My heart is black and I have no conscience."

He watched her as she heaved a large sigh.

"Leave now, Cameron."

She turned to leave, looking at his face wondering what she could do to make those deep valleys go away. What tears cut through the canyons, making them so deep? She didn't want to leave and with every step she took, she thought of an excuse she can tell him to let her stay. She landed upon the perfect reason as she hit her seventh step. She spun on her heel to face the man who had just told her to leave on seconds earlier.

"I have soft jazz in my car and can accompany you on the piano."

She watched as his eyebrows arches and waited two half notes for his response.

"I hate jazz."

"A lie, but a good one."

She turned and walked out the door.