Disclaimer- Still not mine, still need the imaginary friends until I get some real ones
As she adjusted her hair in the bathroom mirror, Cameron silently chastised herself for letting any feelings she once had for House come back to the forefront of her mind. After that disastrous date, six months ago now, where he had read her so well, capturing the essence of her perfectly, much to her outrage& dismay, she had vowed to let it- and him- go.
It hadn't been easy at first, but gradually she had managed to draw a line under those emotions, put them firmly to the back of her mind by immersing herself heavily in her work, secretly hoping that with each day, it would get a little easier to bear.
And it did. Not much, admittedly- she didn't think she would be over him for a very long time, if in fact, ever. But it had certainly become more manageable. It had returned at least on her part to how it was before their non-date to the Monster Truck rally. He sniped at her, she occasionally sniped back and he still resorted to sexual innuendo at least a dozen times a day. But that was House. Hell, he even spoke to Cuddy that way, the woman who wrote his pay cheques, so she had no chance of preventing him doing it to her.
But just recently he had been acting differently towards her, and she couldn't figure out why. And God knows, she'd analysed it over and over. Analysed it to death. She analysed everything to death, it was her way. Thoughtful and analytical, she called it. Uptight and repressed, according to him.
But he knew why. And he had no intention of sharing that little nugget of information with her. Or anyone for that matter. Because it was a weakness on his part. And he didn't do weakness. Oh no. It was bad enough that something, someone, had managed to penetrate his shell, without letting that someone know that they had done so. And that someone or something (animal, vegetable or mineral, House couldn't decide)was on the payroll. Bloody Englishmen. Coming over here, strutting around acting all suave and sophisticated. With their funny little ways. He blamed Hugh Grant. He'd started all this silly nonsense. Clipped accents, floppy schoolboy haircuts and boyish cheeky grins. Didn't they have women in their own country they could be all charismatic& pretentious with?
House didn't have the answer to that, or in fact to what Clarkson's intentions were towards Cameron, but he knew one thing. He intended to find out, test the water a little. But how and when, well that was another matter entirely.