WOW! The first chapter of this certainly got a lot of attention! I hope that everyone continues to enjoy it and please let me know if you do. I love reading all of your comments and seeing which parts you liked best.

Chapter 2

House hated driving slow, therefore he hated driving in the snow. Wrapped loosely around the steering wheel, his fingers tapped out the rhythm of the Led Zeppelin song currently issuing forth from the stereo. He glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Cameron a few car-lengths behind him in her very economical and very utilitarian Honda CR-V. For an instant he wished that the roads were clear and dry so that he could take off and outrun her. Of course, she already knew where he lived, so that wouldn't do much good.

His eyes wandered to the mirror again. Still there. And he still wasn't exactly sure what the hell he was doing letting her follow him home. Why the hell had he asked her to rat-sit in the first place? He should have just left the rodent with an extra bowl of food and a spare waterbottle. Hell, he could have avoided the whole situation by not playing stalker at Stacy's house and trapping the rat in the first place.

The CD switched to a slower ballad and he quickly skipped over it and turned the volume up as he told himself that he was doing it for Steve. Yeah. Right. He could lie to himself about his motivations, but that didn't change them. Asking her for a favor had been his way of making up for acting like a bastard to her. It was a crappy way to apologize, but it was his way.

He sighed, checked the mirror and turned the volume up another notch. Maybe he really did need therapy if he was reduced to using animals to help him deal with women.

Two cars back, Cameron let out her own sigh. She had to be either certifiable or disgustingly obliging to have agreed to rat sit in the first place, nevermind traipsing off in a snowstorm to get a better cage. Here she was, letting House take advantage of her. Again. Yes, definitely certifiable.

And yet, she knew that wasn't really true. She knew House well enough to read between the lines, and she knew that this little assignment wasn't really so much a job as an olive branch. Of course if she told anyone else that theory, they'd probably laugh their asses off, which was why she kept it close to her heart instead.

He didn't love her. She accepted that. She also accepted that she couldn't completely shut off her feelings for him. She'd become comfortable with the recent adjustment in their relationship that left them as tentative friends, and she'd been upset when he'd retreated to his former misanthropic behavior with a side order of cruel tossed in on top. If this was his attempt to get them back to where they'd been, then she'd take it. She still wouldn't be happy, but at least she'd be happier, and frankly, that was all she could ask for at the moment.

They both pulled up in front of House's townhouse, and Cameron was the first one out of her car. She stepped lightly through the fallen snow and dashed to the front door, waiting patiently as House limped over to join her.

"I hope you aren't taking that car to Albany," Cameron remarked as House slipped the key into the door.

"No, Wilson's borrowing Julie's car. Some behemoth of an SUV. Probably be more fuel efficient to pay to have Grave Digger pick us up."

Cameron remembered the enormous black and green truck and laughed lightly. It was nice to have House joking instead of tossing barbs at her. She'd become adept at deflecting them, but it was wearisome work.

The heavy wood door swung open and House grunted and gave her back a quick pat by way of ushering her in. He followed and then watched her shake her head, sending crystalline flakes in a gentle arc to land as water droplets on the oak floor.

"Sorry, I'm dripping all over."

House gave her a slightly withering look. "Try to remember who you're talking to," he said. "Do I look like I care if you leave a puddle?"

Cameron smiled, although there was no real humor behind it. "Sorry. Forgot that politeness isn't something you do."

"Damn straight," he replied, and brushed past her, his own footsteps leaving an icy trail.

The living room seemed to have been rearranged a bit since she'd last seen it, but the most noticeable change was definitely the large cage which sat on a metal stand in the crook of House's grand piano. Apparently Steve McQueen was a music aficionado. He was also, seemingly fond of the color pink, since the plastic base of his cage was a rather bright shade of it.

"Nice cage," she said, with a bit of a smile. "Very bright."

House smirked. "Steve is very secure in his masculinity."

Cameron had to laugh at that, and even House chuckled, although he turned it into a cough.

"The black with red flames was on back-order," he quipped.

"Ah, well that explains it." She was bent over, eyeing the cage and sizing it up. "I don't think I need the stand," she said, "and the cage should fit fine in the back of my car." She stood back up. "So food, exercise, what do you need to tell me?" she asked, snapping into professional mode as if she'd suddenly realized how very unprofessional it was for her to be crouched in his apartment laughing and joking with him.

"He gets a bowl of the plain rat pellets and then a little scoop of the canned treat food."

"You know he doesn't really need the treat."

"He likes the treat," House replied.

The corner of Cameron's mouth tilted upwards. "Okay, one bowl and one scoop."

"Are you going to be able to get him into this cage?" Now House was sizing her up.

"I handle blood and guts on a daily basis, and you think I'm afraid of touching a rat?"

"Girls do tend to be… girlie."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine." She looked from the cage to the door. "I will need you to get the doors for me though."

"You can carry that?" House was looking at her doubtfully.

Cameron gave him one of her seldom-used hard stares. "I'm stronger than I look. Now get the door before I change my mind about the whole thing," she said, all the while knowing that of course she wouldn't change her mind.

The snow was coming down harder, and it sparkled in the dark sky, faintly lit by the streetlamps. House limped beside Cameron, his cane leaving perfect circles in pristine white. He pulled the rear hatch open for her and she slid the cage inside, happy to see that it fit with a few inches to spare.

"So," Cameron said, stepping back and closing the door with a bang and a shower of snowflakes. "Picking him up on Sunday? Or Monday?"

"Yeah… Sunday," House replied. He hadn't been thinking that far ahead. "Monday if we get back late. I'll call." His words were clipped.

"Okay. Well, whenever. Doesn't really make a difference." She had shoved her hands in her pockets and was shifting a bit from one foot to the other, snowflakes landing and clinging to her hair and eyelashes.

"Right."

"Right." Did he want to say something else? He was looking at her almost searchingly, or was that only her wishful thinking? "Well, have a good time," she said finally, toes beginning to feel the bite of cold.

House gave a sharp nod, feeling like he was certainly supposed to say something to her… to use real words and voice real feelings instead of speaking in this code of favors.

"Thanks," was all he ended up saying. "Make sure Steve's in bed by nine."

Cameron tossed a soft smile over her shoulder as she turned away. She hadn't really expected anything more substantial. "I'll do that," she told him.

She got in her car and headed off, glancing back through wire cage and frosty window to see a tall man leaning on a cane and standing in the snow. He was still there when she turned the corner and she couldn't help but wonder if he'd thought of something else to say.

While driving back to her apartment, Cameron had some quality time to reflect on what else House might have wanted to tell her. An actual apology would have been a good start, but she knew better than to expect that. In a moment of weakness she briefly thought of him actually displaying some sort of emotion towards her. Maybe even asking how she was doing on her drug cocktail of assorted antiviral medications before saying something supportive andreassuring.

She mentally rolled her eyes at herself. He'd probably just wanted to remind her that Steve liked to sleep with a nightlight on.

But the expression on his face hadn't looked rat-related, and she could still see him watching her drive away. It had been one of the more un-House-like things she'd witnessed. Her hands clenched and she sighed in exasperation. Trying to figure him out was worse than puzzling through a Rubik's cube, and unfortunately he didn't have any stickers that she could rearrange when she got too frustrated.

The roads were slippery and her car slid a bit as she took the last turn onto her street. Steve's cage rattled as it rocked against the rear window, and Cameron looked over her shoulder to make sure it wasn't in danger of tipping over. Nope. Still standing. She smiled thinking about House picking out the biggest cage he could find. At least she'd been right about one thing. He definitely had a heart.

Thankfully the spot nearest the front door was still vacant, with just a dusting of snow to show she'd recently left it. She got out of the car and carefully made her way around to the back where she opened the hatch. She managed to lift the cage out and slam the hatch closed with a well-placed swing of her hips. For once she was glad it opened to the side.

Like the roads, the sidewalk was slippery as well. The salt had taken care of some of the new snowfall, but Cameron was still cautious as she walked to the door. She had to put the cage down in order to open it, but once inside the building it was only a couple of minutes before she was at her own door.

"Well hello there, Steve," she said as she entered and looked over towards her rodent roommate. "I've brought your castle, so you'd better be good about going into it."

She kicked the door closed, carried the cage into the living area and put it down on the table next to Steve's current accommodations. Steve immediately went to the side of the cage and sniffed towards his usual home.

"Ah. I see you recognize it. Good," Cameron said as she slipped off her coat and gloves. She only felt slightly ridiculous talking to the rat.

The fact that House had worried about her ability to handle Steve made her laugh under her breath. She'd been forced to hold more than her fair share of creeping, crawling, slithering creatures in her youth. One relatively calm-looking rat was a piece of cake. She knew House had only had him for a little over a month, but he certainly wasn't skittish, and she continued talking to him while she opened his large cage in preparation for the transfer.

"Okay, you'd better be good. You bite me and I'm going to sue your father for everything but his cane. Keep that in mind," she said sternly as she slipped open the clasp on the smaller cage. Giving Steve a long look, she decided that perhaps it was better to be safe than sorry. She went and grabbed her gloves from her coat pockets and tugged them on before opening the cage door.

"Now, just be a good boy. I know you'll be much happier in the other cage," she told him soothingly, while telling herself that House really owed her for reducing her to baby-talking a rat.

Steve seemed to understand her words however, because he only ran around the cage once before allowing himself to be caught. Cameron was very gentle; picking him up by the base of his tail and quickly scooping the other hand under his belly. She couldn't resist a little nose-to-nose touch before depositing him in his more comfortable and roomy quarters.

"Thank you for not chewing my face off," she commented as she closed the cage door.

Steve stood on his hind legs and sniffed up at her as if thanking her for moving him. Then he scurried around in his soft bedding-- the recycled paper type, Cameron noticed with a grin at the idea that House had actually researched which kind was best-- before digging out a toy and giving it a toss. Cameron laughed when she saw what it was: an empty Vicodin bottle.

"Like father, like son, eh?"

She spent the next few minutes moving his food bowl and water bottle to the bigger cage, and then putting the small cage into the closet and out of the way. Steve could stay in the place of honor on the coffee table. He'd probably be more amusing than anything on television.

While Steve munched on his food and ran a few laps in his solid plastic, non-foot-injuring wheel, Cameron got herself ready for bed. It wasn't quite nine o'clock but it felt much later to her. The medications she was forced to take made her feel much worse than she had anticipated, and by the end of each day she just wanted to sleep. Wilson had asked her how she was doing on them, and she had smiled weakly and told him she was fine. He'd looked apologetic for asking and hadn't brought it up again. Now, almost two weeks later, she wished she'd been more honest. No one else at the hospital had spoken a word about it since those first few days, and it was hard for her to admit that she wouldn't have minded talking to someone about it.

Actually, someone had mentioned it. Frequently. House. His remark about hearing loss not being a symptom of HIV hadn't been his first jab. Maybe he thought that mocking the possibility that she could be sick would somehow make it less likely. Maybe he considered them jokes and thought she would appreciate him not taking it too seriously. Maybe he wasn't the bastard he so often appeared to be.

Cameron sighed and swallowed down her last pills of the day. She knew she wasn't being quite fair to him; not that fairness was a trait he particularly admired. He cared. He was just extremely poor at translating that sentiment into words or actions that weren't laced with sarcasm.

With hair pulled back and face scrubbed clean, Cameron left the bathroom and padded around her bedroom, pulling back the covers on her bed and depositing her dirty clothes in the hamper. She went back to the living room to check on Steve on more time and double-check the door, although she was certain she had locked it.

Steve was busy scattering his bedding everywhere but when Cameron approached the cage he stopped and peered up at her curiously.

"Yeah, I'm not the one who usually plays your lullaby. Sorry, my singing voice isn't very good," Cameron said, poking the tip of her index finger through the cage bars so that Steve could sniff it. "You going to be all right out here or should I bring you into the bedroom with me?" she asked.

Truthfully the sounds of him scurrying around had put her at ease. Her apartment was so quiet at night. So lonely. Steve's whiskers tickled her fingertip and she gave him a small smile before withdrawing her hand. He'd be fine in the living room, and she needed to stop being so damn melancholy.

"I'll see you in the morning," she said as she turned towards the bedroom, shutting off the light as she passed. "Sweet dreams."

Steve just stared after her, but his face held a very sympathetic expression. For a rat.