Disclaimer: I do not own House MD; it is affiliated to FOX Broadcasting Network, Heel and Toe Prods., Some Bad Hat Harry Prods., and Shore Prods., etc.

Parings: House/Cameron

Rating: T

A/N: Yay I got this done the day after I finished chapter 4 for my other story:) so proud . . . XD

Regarding people's eye color, I went back to some House eps and I guess Cameron's eyes are more greenish, so I've changed that, because I don't to get it wrong for the whole story. So thanks reviewers:D (Chase's I'll leave as blue, heh 3)

Have fun! ;)

The Line Between Truth and Deception

One

Detective Gregory House stood at the foot of his four wall poster bed in the magnificent, not to mention extremely costly, International Hotel Chamboreign of Nome. In front of him on the silk bed linen, his clothes were sprawled at random. He picked up a faded t-shirt that might once have been sky-blue, and tossed it into the suitcase nearby.

House glanced at the face of his analog watch, there were tiny faces within it that told the date and the changes in the phase of the moon. Quarter past 4. About 40 hours to go . . . he reached inside his coat pocket and took out two tickets. A content grin crossed his lips and he began whistling.

With care now, he lifted a jet black suit jacket along with matching dress pants. They looked awfully expensive. House tilted his head back to admire the masterpiece. "Beautiful." He breathed quietly to himself and brushed a fleck of imaginary dust off the shoulders. You can wear what ever you want other days. But when it comes to the St. Petersburg Philharmonic Symphony, He gave a low whistle. You dress, to match their unity.

House unzipped a protective cover piece and slid it over the suit. He made a single neat fold and placed it inside his suitcase. And now . . . the essential . . . He picked up an extravagant looking white shirt and smoothed out a few creases when the hotel phone rang.

Rinng . . . rinng . . . House ignored it and continued packing his belongings. After two more rings, the answering machine picked up. A deep, robotic voice of a man sounded. "Greetings. You have reached room 412 of the International Hotel Chamboreign, Nome. Please leave a message after the 'beep'. Note it will be deleted at 2am the following morning. Thank you." As stated, an elongated 'beep' followed closely after.

"House? I know you're there." House rolled his eyes into the back of his head as he recognized the agitated tone of the woman. "House! Pick up the damn phone right now!"

He turned and called out in its direction. "Give it a rest, Cuddy. I'm off all this week, and you know it." He didn't care if it wasn't audible to the other end.

"I sign your paychecks House! If you don't want your ass kicked out, you'd better pick up the phone right now!"

Sheesh . . . if any of the maids checked this message, they'd have a heart attack. He exhaled and moved over to the phone. There was a noticeable limp in his right leg. "What do you want, Cuddy?" he had the cordless to his ear.

"Well. Looks like that worked. I should use it more often." There was a trace of victory in her tone, but then it grew stern. "New case. I need you to find someone for me. Or if you prefer, for the government."

"Why me? I'm on leave, I thought I made it quite clear last time we discussed this."

What sounded like a half-laugh and a half-snort sounded. "Oh yeah. That 'discussion' worked well. I never gave you permission. You practically ran away!"

House could just see Cuddy's eyes widen in frustration, he gloated. "Don't worry, I'm not getting myself a tan in Hawaii to impress you. Alaska's freezing my ass off."

"Exactly what I was about to talk about. Why the hell are you in Alaska?" Cuddy sounded bewildered.

"It's just a leeway stop for my destination. I'm leaving for St. Petersburg in a few hours."

"WHAT?" House frowned and held the phone a foot away form his face, the shouting continued. "You're going to Russia?"

"Can you talk any louder? I don't think I can hear you." He called out sarcastically, keeping the distance between him and the phone. "St. Petersburg Philharmonic's concert." He paused. "Jealous? Well . . . I do have two tickets . . ." he trailed off, sneering at the thought of Cuddy falling into his trap.

There was a moment of silence on the other end. Cuddy was obviously both shocked and bemused by House's offer. "Umm . . . well, work here—"

House cut her off. "You didn't let me finish. Two tickets. One for me, and the other for my suitcase, which will also serve as breathing space." He looked smug.

On the other end, in the supervisor's office of FBI's administrative building, Cuddy's jaws dropped in disgust. "That was not necessary." Bastard. I can't believe he played me like that. She growled, partly at House, and partly at herself.

A handsome man with warm chestnut eyes entered the office and slapped a pile of documents down on her desk. "That's the latest on Tay Volgler. Apparently, he learned a thing or two from his old man . . ." he arched his eyebrows. "Is House on the line?" he asked, knowing the disgust on Cuddy's face was reserved for one man.

Cuddy nodded. "Most unfortunately." She turned back into the phone. "You're on this case and that's final. I need a little peace and quiet . . . Wilson's going to explain to you the situation." She quickly shoved the phone to the man before she heard another word from House. Wilson gave a reassuring nod, leaving Cuddy with the paperwork.

"House? It's Wilson."

"I'm telling you, I'm busy the next few days. Get what's-his-name to deal with it. You know, the guy that only owns one shirt."

"Don't make up your mind so soon. This might clear up your schedule." Wilson smirked. "The woman is in her mid-twenties. Dark, long auburn hair, a pair of irresistible clear green eyes—"

"And that's supposed to affect me how . . .?" House cocked his head to one side. "You know what I think Wilson? I think this is the perfect case for you." He wasn't even kidding.

"I know." Wilson decided to go along with him. "Too bad they assigned it to the great Agent House."

"I'll gladly let you take my place."

"As much as I'd like that, I'm afraid it's not possible. I'm still leashed onto the Volgler case." He sighed. FBI has been dealing with the guy for over a decade, and now his son just appeared, things were getting out of hand. "We know there's some sort of a connection between the two cases. But we need you to confirm that by bringing the journalist in. Allison Cameron."

House was not surprised. "So it's about the Cameron character after all . . ." His mind ticked. This was something he had wanted to further investigate, there's so much more to find out. "Interesting." House decided to take the case, maybe if he got lucky, he could resolve it quickly and not miss the concert. Fat chance. "Make me a deal Wilson. What do I get out of this?"

Wilson beamed and flashed a thumbs up at Cuddy, he knew it meant House had accepted the task. "FBI tracking identified that she's leaving on Boeing 747 at 6:30am. You'd better hurry. We bought you a ticket already, first class of course."

"In other words, no benefits for me." House waited for a generous offer, he knew it was coming.

"Alright" Cuddy was back on the line. "Get this figured out, and you can get your stupid break."

"How long?" House was not satisfied, not yet.

Cuddy inhaled, forcing herself to stay calm. "Three days."

"Seven"

"Five. No more."

"Two weeks." House laughed inwardly as he heard Cuddy give a small growl of defeat.

"Fine! A week it is." The line clicked dead. House grinned haughtily as he placed the phone back in its holder. "Better get going." He packed the last of his possessions and grabbed his cane.

> > >

Cameron flipped open her cell phone. "6:22." She read the time to herself, the plane should be boarding any second now. She shoved it back in her coat pocket and stood up to stretch her arms out. Her whole body ached form the chase.

Seeing that two flight attendants dressed in royal blue uniforms had opened up the gate, she slung her handbag over her shoulder and picked up the black folder. There weren't much people boarding, Cameron noticed. Then again, it is October and I'm going to Russia. Real smart Allison. It was too late to change anything now, she headed to the gate.

"Good morning ma'am." A tall woman smiled and took her ticket, processing it through the machine in front her. "First class is to the left when you come across a fork." She gestured to the path that led to the plane. "Enjoy your flight." She handed the ticket back to her.

"Thank you." Cameron smiled. She started into the temporarily made passage without a glance back.

> > >

"Boeing 747 calling for Mr. Gregory House. Please proceed to Gate 56. Last call for Mr. Gregory House. Boeing 747 will be departing . . ." The speakers that lined the airport lobbies blasted away as House hobbled to his destination as fast as he could manage. "Oh shut the hell up!" He ignored the disapproving stares from a few passer-bys.

The flight attendant had started to relocate the ticket confirmation machines when House waved his ticket under her nose. The plump woman frowned slightly, but did her best to look patient. "I presume you're Mr. Gregory House?" she ran the ticket through a machine and handed it back to him. ""First class is to the left of the fork." She smiled.

House caught his breath and headed for the plane. On the way there he took out his Vicodin bottle and dry swallowed three pills. It was supposed to relieve his pain but House didn't feel it working when he struggled into the first class cabinet.

"Sir? Would you like any assistance?" a tall woman inquired. House waved her off and took a few more pills. Only 2 damn hours of preparation time. What are they, trying to kill me? He plopped into the nearest velvet covered seat. Something hard underneath him caused him to grunt. "Damn it." He took out the object and stared. It was a rich dark-leathered handbag.

". . . Excuse me?" House jumped and looked up for the source of the voice. A pair of lucid sea green orbs glistened back at him. Beneath them, the woman's crimson red lips parted hesitantly. ". . . I think that belongs to me . . ."

A/N: I'm so glad that the basic intro is done. Now we can actually get on to character interaction! –cheers-

Appreciate any comments:)

ACMD