Eesh... begging forgiveness for the time lag between chapters is getting to be a regular occurance...

Oracle... I have fixed that error about the hospital name and will be reloading. Val... please email me again and I will send you the link to "Everybody Lies". To everyone else, thank you SO much for your patience and your comments! Hopefully I will have another chapter up before the end of the weekend.

Chapter 20

Cameron gave a kitten-like yawn, rolled over, and drew in a long breath as she opened her eyes to the image of House's peaceful looking face. His eyes were still closed and his chest moved up and down with the slow rhythm of his breathing. He fidgeted slightly in his sleep and Cameron placed one warm hand over his heart, the sparse hair of his chest soft against her palm, the beating heart, strong beneath it.

How long would this last, this dance on the knife's edge that they were sharing? Not forever, surely. She wasn't a fool. Eventually they would stumble, and then they'd both be cut to shreds. Would she be able to say that it was all worth it? Right now, as she counted his heartbeats, she told herself that she would. The scared and pessimistic voice deep within told her to get out and get out fast before the eventual cuts would prove fatal, but she squelched that voice and concentrated on the heartbeat she could almost hear. It was already too late.

Inching closer, she inhaled the warm, tangy scent of him. There was the spice of cologne he had applied in preparation for their dinner, along with sweat and musk and the cool scent of the rain still clinging to his skin. She was slightly startled when his hand came up to cover hers, and she glanced at his face again and saw that his eyes were open and peering at her curiously.

"You're going to be late for work," she murmured.

"I knew that when I woke up at five," he replied. "I already called and told Cuddy to find another patsy for the clinic this morning."

"She's not going to appreciate that."

"She never does. That's half the fun."

Cameron frowned slightly. "Yeah, but I was never your excuse before. She's not going to be happy with me working there if she thinks I'm making you shirk your duties."

"I didn't use you as my excuse, and I don't intend to make a habit of pissing you off so badly that I have to come begging for forgiveness."

"I wasn't pissed off," Cameron said, leaving off the part about him not exactly begging for forgiveness. Exaggeration was one of House's trademarks, and truthfully, his unexpected, yet typically House-like letter, and singular heartfelt apology had meant more to her than if he'd groveled at her feet.

"You were pissed off," House challenged her, then continued, slightly softer, "and hurt."

She gave no reply other than idly start moving her fingers along his chest, forcing him to release her hand.

"I know they're not shallow," he said abruptly.

For a second she didn't know what he was talking about, but then she remembered and decided to just pretend she hadn't heard him.

"I never thought that they were."

Apparently he wasn't going to let her pretend. She looked up at him quickly, saw that he was staring at her, and looked away again.

"No. They weren't."

"You love me."

The words were quickly said. So quick that Cameron wanted to believe he hadn't really said them. But he had. Her already slow-moving fingers stopped for a moment and then continued along their random course. Could he hear her heart pounding? She could lie, ignore, distract, deflect.

"Yes." Lying was pointless and she didn't think House was easily distracted at the moment. She held her breath for just a second; waiting for something she knew wasn't coming, and then released it soundlessly. "Please don't ask me why. I'm already getting a feeling of déjà vu."

"I wasn't planning to." He actually wasn't sure what he'd planned to do no matter what she'd answered. He wasn't even sure what had possessed him to go down this particularly hazardous conversational path.

Damnit. Yes he was. He'd wanted to hear the words. Wanted to hear them from her lips. Well, he hadn't gotten that, but he'd come close. He tried to diagnose and catalogue exactly what he was feeling, but found that he couldn't. The twisting in his gut could be fear or excitement. The tightness in his throat might be emotion or just an early morning allergy. His hand covered her slender fingers again, resting over them lightly.

"I need to go to work."

"I know." She moved slightly, to allow him out of the bed, but he kept his hand over hers and held it tighter.

"I'll tell Cuddy that you're coming back to the fold starting next Monday. You'll be cleared to drive."

Cameron rolled her eyes at his continued insistence about following doctor's orders. "There's bound to be a pile of paperwork involved."

"You can get it tonight when you come over," House said, releasing her hand and groping for his pills.

"Tonight?"

He succeeded in grabbing his jeans and working the pill bottle out of the pocket. "I still owe you dinner," he said around two vicodins.

Cameron was at a loss for words for a minute and she watched him swing his legs out of bed and thrust them into his jeans. "Seven o'clock?"

He nodded and looked over his shoulder at her. "Seven's good."

After pushing herself up until she was propped against the pillows, Cameron pulled the sheet up around her chest. House painfully bent over to pick his shirt up from the floor and then pulled it over his head, sweeping his hands through his unruly hair afterwards. His cane was leaning against the nightstand and his hand curled around it automatically. A normal part of his morning routine. He stepped heavily away from the bed and paused.

"Mine aren't shallow either," he said gruffly, and then walked out of the room without turning back to meet her widening eyes.


As House limped down the sterile white hallway he considered that it would probably be less painful to just send a memo or an email, or a carrier pigeon than to actually face Cuddy in person. However, since his pager had been going off every half hour since his arrival at the hospital, he knew it was only a matter of time before she tracked him down.

Her head was bent over some paperwork on her desk, but she heard his distinctive footsteps and looked up as he walked in. She propped her chin on her hand and looked at him with an expression that managed melded amusement with annoyance. Years of dealing with him had inured her to just about anything when it came to his behavior.

"You missed clinic hours," she commented, one graceful brow arching upwards.

"Master of the obvious, as always," House replied.

"I assume you're here to beg forgiveness."

Although unintended, her words, so similar to ones spoken in Cameron's bedroom, gave him pause. He looked down and tapped his cane a few times before stepping further into the room.

"Only if begging can be done while standing and with no actual words of apology," he sniped.

"Apology accepted," Cuddy said with a grin.

House glared.

"Anything else you wanted?" Her voice had a cheerful lilt to it which particularly grated on House, even as it somewhat amused him.

Taking another step forward, House said, "Yes. Dr. Cameron's coming back to work in the diagnostics department."

The look on Cuddy's face shifted subtly and she leaned back and steepled her fingertips, elbows resting on the arms of her chair. House stared at her, waiting for her to reply, and wondering how many clinic hours this was going to cost him. She surprised him with her next words.

"So I take it that you and Cameron have worked out some kind of personal relationship."

Being taken by surprise was not conducive to snarkiness. House tapped his cane again and flexed his fingers around the handle.

"We're… comfortable… around each other again," he said slowly.

Cuddy stared him right in the eyes and her mouth slanted into a smirk. "And this comfortable-ness isn't going to interfere with your work?"

"No more than it's interfered in the past," House shot back.

"Good." She opened a drawer and pulled out a file folder. "Have her fill out this paperwork when you see her." Her smirk turned into a smug grin. "I'm guessing that will be tonight," she continued, "and bring it back in tomorrow. When's she planning on starting?"

"Next week," House grumbled as he took the folder.

"Perfect. I know she's never late to work, so with any luck, she'll drag you in with her."

He wanted to counter her blatant assumption with at least some kind of witty, biting, or just plain mean comeback, but none were springing to mind, and the moment was lost. He mumbled something about bringing the papers back, and then turned and stomped out. As he made his way out of the office, Cuddy stifled a self-satisfied chuckle. Score for the day: House-0, Cuddy-1.

More walking, more thumping, and another office at the end of another pristine hallway. House didn't bother to knock before opening the door. After all, Wilson never did.

The oncologist was sitting at his desk with an x-ray in one hand and a patient file in the other. There was nary a gameboy or yo-yo in sight. House pulled on his best triumphant conqueror look and sauntered into the room to stand right in front of Wilson.

"Well, my evil letter-stealing plan worked. Cameron's coming back to work at the hospital."

Wilson lowered the x-ray and file and gave House a sarcastic eyebrow-raised look. "Oh really? Was this before or after the begging?"

House sneered and lowered himself to the chair in the corner. "There was no begging."

"So you went over there with nothing and she just welcomed you back with open arms and no explanations necessary?" Wilson said incredulously. "How the hell do you do it? You're the meanest bastard I know and you've got the hottest woman I know lapping it up with a spoon."

Those words won him a dangerous look from House, not unlike the one he'd received for joking about Cameron's sexual experience. He made a mental note to drop the jokes about her lest he get a cane shoved up his ass.

"She said she was expecting me to hurt her," House said after a moment, his expression changing to a more thoughtful one.

"Well, it's good she's prepared for the inevitable," Wilson responded.

Another evil eye was sent in his direction, but it was definitely less threatening than the previous one. Good. Jokes about House's pathetic relationship track-record were still allowable.

"I told her I was sorry."

"You actually said those words?" Wilson couldn't shake the recurrent feeling of shock. "What's next, an 'I love you' and a set of house keys?"

Silence from House, and Wilson just looked at him as the other man thumbed through the paperwork he was holding. All teasing fled, to be replaced by a soft, knowing smile.

"I'm happy for you, Greg. You deserve it."

House stood up and walked to the door. "I wouldn't go that far," he said in a self-deprecating tone that he rarely used.

"Don't fuck it up," Wilson said to House's back as he left the office.

"Probably inevitable, but I'm trying to keep my 'fuck up' instincts stifled," he replied without turning around.

Wilson watched him for a few seconds and then turned back to his work, muttering, "Damn, I hope he's successful."


The rain clouds had finally dispersed sometime after noon, and now the sunshine sent out amber-colored evening light from just beyond the horizon. Streaks of purple and orange edged clouds were visible in the distance, but the puddles had all dried up, and only the damp earth betrayed the storm.

Cameron had her arms raised and was pulling her hair back into a ponytail when she suddenly changed her mind. That was how she'd worn her hair last time. No sense tempting fate. She dropped her hands and let her hair fall in loose waves around her face. She considered adding her usual barrettes and decided against it. Long hair could be very useful as a curtain for masking her emotions if necessary.

House's apology and his words that morning had done a lot to make her feel more secure, but she was still nervous and slightly on edge. It was obvious that he still didn't entirely trust her, and even though she understood that and didn't expect some overnight transformation, it still made her uneasy. If he didn't trust her then he could change his mind about everything in an instant.

That was where the long hair came in. She could hide behind it if she needed to pretend that rejection didn't hurt.

After one last look in the mirror she turned off the bathroom light and headed into the bedroom. She quickened her pace when she heard the phone ring.

"Hello?" Cameron grabbed the phone on the third ring.

"You ready?" came House's voice on the other end of the phone.

"House? Yes, I'm ready. A cab should be here in just a minute to pick me up. Did you need me to make him stop somewhere for me to pick something up?"

"No, I need you to come on down. I'm waiting for you in your parking lot." He hung up before Cameron could reply, and she stared at the phone in confusion for a minute before setting it down and grabbing her sweater.

Once in the hallway, she hesitated for a second, wavering between her bedroom and the rest of the apartment. Should she bring something to sleep in? Chances were good that she'd be spending the night. Chances were also good that she'd be naked for at least part of that night, but she still liked to have something to cover herself with after the passion and snuggling were over. House could tell her that her scar was beautiful until he was blue in the face, but it wouldn't change the fact that she hated it. She hated seeing it, and she hated when her arm or hand accidentally brushed over it. She frowned as she made up her mind. No way could she bring a bag of clothing, however small, over to his place. She'd managed to surreptitiously snag his shirt last time, and she'd just have to do the same this time.

When Cameron stepped out onto the porch she looked towards the parking area and saw House leaning against the side of his car, twirling his cane in one hand. He looked relaxed, and she smiled, forgetting for the moment the shadow that her worries had cast over her upstairs.

She took note of his appearance as she walked over and was glad she'd worn something nice. House wasn't in a suit, but his dark pants were crisp and neat, and his white shirt was tucked in and buttoned at the cuffs. In the back of her mind she was actually wishing that he looked slightly more rumpled. She loved how he looked after a day at work with his shirttails out, buttons at the throat undone with a bit of his typical band t-shirt showing, and sleeves rolled to reveal his surprisingly strong forearms.

As she drew closer he looked up and saw her, and his spinning cane slowed to a stop. He walked a few steps to meet her and then halted in front of her, not touching her, just staring down at her face. Large eyes looked up at him curiously before realizing that this time he didn't want to make the first move. She was struck by sudden awareness that he was almost always the first to initiate any kissing or touching between them. She was the one who had pursued him, and how she was the one holding back. Was it a fear of rejection still lingering around the edges of her mind? Reaching forward, she placed one hand on his chest to balance herself and stretched upwards to place a kiss on his mouth. She felt the hardness of his cane pressed against her back as he wrapped his hand around her waist and held her in place until she could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

"Good day?" she asked, a little breathlessly, when he dropped his hand back to his side and stepped back slightly.

"Not bad."

They walked back to the car and he opened her door before walking around to his side.

"Wait, what about the cab I called? It'll be here waiting for me," she said as he started the engine.

"No it won't. I called and cancelled it."

She looked at him with bemusement. "How did you know which company I called?"

"I figured you'd call the same one that dropped you off last night," he answered as he pulled out onto the street.

"Oh. She was quiet for a second, staring straight ahead but peeking at him out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't know you saw."

House's face transfigured into several difficult-to-read expressions before he spoke again. "I was watching for you from the window," he admitted.

Cameron turned towards him quickly, and just as quickly turned away. "Oh," she repeated quietly, and she let her hand slip across the leather seat and onto the much larger one that gripped the gearshift.


Leather and books, old wood and masculinity, with the slight drifting hint of good cigar smoke. That was what House's place usually smelled like. Last night that aroma had been over-layed with the scent of chicken and wine. Now it was the warm tang of onion and steak that floated in the air and out the door as House held it open for Cameron.

She smiled as she turned to him. "It smells wonderful. Even better than last night."

"So no fear of mad-cow then. That's good. I thought of saving the chicken from last night but decided the less we think about that, the better."

Cameron nodded and followed him to the kitchen. "I'm sure it was great," she said, looking up at him and then away, and then back, but still avoiding his eyes. "I probably should have just stayed." She sighed and fiddled with the strap on her pocketbook. "Running away. Not too mature."

"Yeah. About as mature as stealing someone's mail."

She looked up again, but he had turned towards the oven and was opening it up and checking the progress of the pan-broiled steaks and baby new potatoes. She walked over to him and peered into the oven too. The heat warmed her face and she could blame it for the sudden color in her cheeks.

"Need help?" she asked, as he pulled a bowl of salad out of the fridge.

"No. I hid everything else that might incriminate me," he quipped, then tilted his head towards the table. "You could light the candles," he said.

The matches were on the counter and Cameron noticed that they were from the jazz club he'd taken her to on Friday. She opened the box, daintily took one out and struck it against the side, watching it burst to life with a spark and a puff of smoke. Seconds ticked by while she watched it burning down the thin wood.

"Do I have to lock up the matches and lighter fluid, Pyro?" House's voice, right beside her ear, made her jump and she quickly blew the match out before it could burn her fingers.

Cheeks tinged pink again, and expression slightly sheepish, she shook her head. "No. I was just thinking about that night."

House took the box of matches from her, running his thumb over the club logo. "It was a good night," he agreed.

Cameron thought that was understating it, but about what she expected from him. Slightly tense muscles began to relax and she followed his graceful hand as he struck another match and lit the two uneven candles in their shot-glass holders.

"Sit," he ordered, and then propped his cane against the table and limped heavily back to the stove to serve the food.

Plates were served, wine was poured, a shy smile from Cameron and a smug look from House. Then they sat across from each other, staring into the candles, staring into each other's eyes, for what seemed like a long time, until House blinked and announced that the food he'd slaved over was getting cold.

The rest of the meal was anything but silent. Cameron kept complimenting the food until House told her to just shut up and eat, and then he talked about the clinic in between bites and she filled him in on the latest episode of General Hospital.

"I brought you a present," House announced as they cleared the table together.

"What?"

"Don't get all excited. It's nothing sappy or sentimental, and actually it's from Cuddy."

"From Cuddy?" Cameron's brows drew together, forming a little furrow between them.

"Your paperwork to fill out," House explained, pouring more wine and handing her a glass.

They moved into the living room and he pointed to the red folder on the coffee table with his cane.

"She wants 'em back tomorrow."

Cameron dropped down onto the sofa and picked up the folder. "Why can't she just take all my old paperwork, photocopy it, and put it in this folder?" she asked, being uncharacteristically annoyed.

"It's the joy of bureaucracy," House replied. "Gotta let her have her fun."

"I suppose you're right. I'm glad she's letting me come back at all."

"Believe me, she's thrilled. I think she sees me as her temperamental two-year-old and you as the adorable babysitter."

Cameron had put her glasses on, and now she looked at him over the top rim. "Adorable babysitter?"

"Well, something adorable that will keep me out of her hair for five minutes."

She didn't tell him that it had been the 'adorable' part of the phrase and not the 'babysitter' that had caused her doubtful look.

"Little does she know that I plan on steam-rolling over you just like always." He was looking extremely egocentric but the look softened as he met her gaze. "At work, that is," he amended.

A tiny, half-hidden smile was his reward before she opened the file and stared. The first sheet of paper was blank, but taped rather clumsily to the center of it was a slender silver barrette with filigree designs etched into it. It looked very old and very expensive. Cameron looked up, an expression of pleased surprise on in her eyes.

"I decided you could use a new bauble after all," House said simply.

Cameron traced the barrette with one finger and then closed the folder and held her hand out to the man sitting next to her.

"I think I can fill these out tomorrow," she said softly. "Take me to bed."

House didn't need to be asked twice.