Title: Succumb (20?)
Pairing: House/Cameron
Summary: We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

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"The Martians have landed."

Foreman blinked, lowering the morning paper to glance over at Chase dubiously. "Excuse me?"

The Australian stared back at him disbelievingly as he entered the briefing room, drawing to a halt in front of the whiteboard. "The Martians have landed," he repeated. "That's the only explanation I can come up with. House just smiled at me. Not that arrogant 'I've got something on you' smile I usually get, or that evil one that means he's about to insult me."

Foreman lifted an eyebrow. "Huh. How long did it last?"

"About two seconds. Then he turned around and made the new nurse cry."

"Sure you didn't hallucinate?" Foreman cracked, heartily amused. Of course Chase would make a debacle of something like that. Foreman had stopped trying to analyse House's behaviour a long time ago. "I thought he was doing something funny with the coffee the other day."

Chase glared at him, removing his bag and dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. He clearly didn't appreciate being mocked. "Very funny. You'll see. Just wait til he comes in here."

As he spoke, the adjoining door opened and House limped in from his office. His gruff features twisted in their perpetual scowl at the sight of them. "Good morning, my children," he said caustically. "The Herr requires your presence in the clinic. And by Herr, I mean Cuddy, just to clear up any misconceptions."

Foreman frowned, distracted by his words. "But what about the patient?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? She discharged this morning. Apparently that Vasculitis-cum-Lupus-cum-Wegener's-granulomatosis was actually a good old-fashioned allergic reaction. Cleared up over the weekend. Did I forget to page you?"

Chase scowled, and Foreman gave him a sideways look. "Yeah, he's really with the warm and fuzzy," he muttered irritably. Inwardly, he had to admit, behaviour-wise, that was certainly a first— House failing to inform them of a patient's recovery. Particularly after he had taken such a strong interest in the case. Usually he liked to revel in self-satisfaction when he made that final diagnosis.

"We're not scheduled in the clinic," Chase protested, slumping into the chair at the other end of the table. "You are."

"But that was before you decided to cover for me," House piped, crossing to the coffee and wincing at the empty pot. "A very noble gesture. And where's Cameron? How am I expected to focus on my soaps without my daily caffeine dosage?"

At that moment, the door opened again, and Cameron rushed breathlessly inside. "Sorry!" she apologised, sliding her pocketbook hastily over her head. "I had to drop Brooklyn off at day-care. The traffic was a nightmare."

House gave her an impassive glance. "And considering your definition of late is two minutes past nine, I think you can spare us the explanation."

She shot him a look, but immediately swept past him to brew the coffee, and Foreman frowned a little before folding up the paper. House stepped closer, eyeing it thoughtfully. "Ooh, sports pages. Mine."

He watched House snatch it up and disappear into his office, calling over his shoulder on the way. "Those poor Clinic patients aren't going to spontaneously cure themselves, you know."

Chase scowled, rising to his feet, and Foreman slowly followed him, watching Cameron move around the cupboards as he left the room. Something weird had shifted in their dynamic. Considering the tense silence they had worked in for the past few weeks, they were acting almost… normal.

He wondered if he should be disturbed by that. Or maybe it was just time to take Chase's theory into account.

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The elevator doors swept open, and Cameron was about to step inside when she felt a warm hand on her elbow. She glanced around, coming face to face with Wilson, who was eyeing her with uncertainly clouding his earnest brown eyes.

"Hey."

He released her arm, but the elevator had already closed, and she turned to regard him cautiously. "Oh, hey, Wilson."

"You got a second?"

The clipboard in her hand contained results needed down in the Clinic, but something in his expression quelled that explanation, and she stepped out of the way as two nurses neared the elevator. "Uh, sure."

Wilson nodded, and guided her a few steps away, frowning at the wall beside them as he attempted to gather his thoughts. "Did something… happen after you and House left Friday night?"

Cameron swallowed, eyeing him guardedly. If House hadn't told him already… then he obviously didn't want to advertise it. She wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to make that mistake again. "Um, why do you ask?"

Wilson shifted awkwardly. "I'm just… I'm sorry if I might have caused things to get worse between you two," he explained apologetically. "I honestly had no idea he was going to show up. I didn't mention our plans with him, if you were concerned about that."

Cameron offered him a genuine, reassuring smile. She realised his questions sparked from nothing but guilt, and allowed herself to relax marginally. "I know, really. I should have expected it to happen. It was Friday night, and you guys are friends…"

"Right." He continued to look troubled, and she felt her palms sweating anxiously. "So nothing… happened, right? You didn't have another fight or anything?"

She shook her head, vaguely bemused by how far from the truth that really was. "Uh, no, no we didn't fight."

Wilson bobbed his head slowly, clearly unconvinced. She knew if he was going to push someone about what had happened, it was going to be House. She was happy with that. Despite the ease with which their friendship had grown recently, she wasn't comfortable enough with Wilson to admit that she and House were… involved. Possibly. Certainly not without House's approval. "Oh. Well good. I guess I'll ah…" He gestured down at her notes. "Leave you to it."

He turned awkwardly for the Oncology Wing, and she called him back. "Wilson?"

He paused, glancing at her questioningly. She lifted her shoulders. "Thanks for… you know. The concern. You're a good friend."

A small smile pulled at his mouth, and he nodded gently. "Just trying to look out for both of you."

"I know that. I'm sure he does, too."

He continued to smile, turning back towards his original destination. She let out a relieved sigh, striding quickly for the elevator when its doors slid open again.

She was a little startled to find House on the other side. He lifted a pointed eyebrow at her as the doors slid closed on the two of them, his only reaction to her presence. "Wilson hounding you?" he asked wryly, tapping his cane on the floor in front of him.

She blinked at him, vaguely wondering how he picked up on these things so quickly. He was a master at reading people, but she was still a little amazed by the accuracy of his statements. "How did you--?"

"Oh, he pretends to be nice behind that charming boy-wonder smile, but he's not so innocent. I have cleverly eluded him all morning, so I'm assuming he sought you out."

Cameron rolled her eyes at his explanation. His proximity made her heart rate kick up slightly, and she attempted to ignore it. "Right. You just saw us together, didn't you?"

House smirked. "My powers of deduction led me to a similar conclusion."

They stood side by side, silently watching the numbers light up above the door.

She broke the silence first. "I didn't tell him anything, if that's what you were worried about."

House sighed, features crinkling in a frown. He kept his gaze planted carefully ahead. "Clearly we're going to have another conversation about this, aren't we?"

They had returned to a semblance of their normal relationship in front of the others, but there was no denying the change in their personal dynamic. After he left Saturday morning, they had agreed to give each other some distance for the rest of the weekend. They still had yet to properly discuss their newfound relationship. But so far, she had been fairly optimistic about it.

At this comment, however, she turned to look at him rather indignantly, and House in turn rolled his eyes. "What are we, Cameron?"

She was bewildered by his abrupt change in topic, and stumbled over his question. "Well, we're um…" she frowned waveringly. "We're uh…"

He nodded in grim satisfaction at her halted sentence. "See? You can't even define us." He wrinkled his nose. "I don't know about you, but I'm not quite ready to start shouting things over rooftops when I don't even know what we're doing."

"Shouting over rooftops?" Cameron repeated with a smile.

House scowled down at her. "Being around your offspring has affected my snark. You get my point."

Cameron spared him another fleeting glance, clutching the clipboard tightly to her chest. "So you're not… backing out?"

House looked at her as the doors opened, admitting them to the ground floor. There was a slight softening in his features, and they were forced to vacate the elevator as several doctors crowded inside.

"No," he said quietly, following her towards the clinic. He glanced around as they stopped before the front desk, ensuring no one was in earshot, and stared at her intently. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

She nodded, offering him a brief, tentative smile, unused to this kinder, reassuring side of him. He turned towards Cuddy's office for what she was sure would be his daily lecture, and she wondered if he was going to be as distracted as she was.

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"You cannot coerce your employees into taking your clinic hours," Cuddy snarled flatly, placing added vehemence behind her words as she roughly shuffled some papers on her hefty desk.

House smirked down at her, reflecting on the fact that he was almost a permanent fixture in his current 'naughty boy' position. He wondered idly what the room looked from her side of the desk.

"Is that what they told you? Too damn modest for their own good, those guys. They offered out of the kindness of their hearts. It was touching, actually."

She gave him a long, weary look. "Do you even listen to some of the crap that comes out of your mouth anymore?"

House was somewhat amused by her exasperation. After his odd shift in rapport with Cameron, it was good to momentarily delve into normality. "Mostly I just let it do the talking for me," he rejoined easily. "Who snitched? I thought ditching Hudson had restored all loyalty."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I think loyalty is a stretch of the imagination. And no one told. I went looking for you and found Foreman instead."

"It is very easy to get the two of us mixed up. You know, apart from the black thing."

"You cannot pass your clinic hours onto Foreman or Chase, or Cameron," Cuddy snapped sternly. "That doesn't count, and I'll just add them back onto your total to make-up. You're only putting off the inevitable."

House pursed his lips. "And strangely, I'm okay with that."

She rose to her feet, shoving several papers in a green folder. "Foreman also tells me you neglected to inform them that your patient was discharged."

House frowned. "Well, they know now."

She rounded her desk and glared up at him irritably. Her height kind of hindered the impact of her threat. "You are not helping yourself here, House."

He scoffed. "What, so this goes on my 'probation' list? It must be a long one."

Cuddy straightened the papers in her hands, and did something truly extraordinary. She avoided his eyes, looking down at the floor with intense concentration. "For now… I think we can forget about your probation. At least until your next screw-up."

House eyed her incredulously. He wasn't going to let this one go easily. He felt a slow, satisfied smirk form on his features as she continued to look away from him. Probably to avoid that very expression. "Why, Dr. Cuddy, your generosity warms the cockles of my heart. Why the sudden change?"

"Your department has received less complaints since Hudson left," she conceded reluctantly. She gave him a pointed look. "And Dr. Cameron— and her daughter –seem to have improved your attitude as well."

He rolled his eyes edgily. As far as he was concerned, his relationship with both Cameron and Brooklyn was off-limits. "Gee, how do you figure?"

"The fact that you actually treated a patient without any badgering from me or your team kind of gave me a clue." She eyed him with uncharacteristic gentleness, softening her tone slightly. "So I can assume that things with Dr. Cameron… they're good?"

Her subtle prompting caused him to now carefully avoid her eyes. "Fine," he responded gruffly.

Cuddy nodded in satisfaction. Oh, she was clever. She'd managed to regain her one-up on the conversation— and make him clam up— all in one move. "Good. As long as you can keep it from affecting your professional relationship, I don't really care what the hell you do."

House was getting increasingly uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation. "Gee, thanks for the approval, boss," he said caustically, covering up his discomfort. "Least I know you're not gonna fob a sexual harassment suit on me now if I decide to grab your ass."

Cuddy started for the door, shooting him a withering look. "And that statement does not extend beyond Dr. Cameron, so the remaining female population of this hospital are stuck with your standard charm."

He snickered, limping past her and pausing in the doorway as she held it open for him. They were back to their normal banter. That was good. Confiding in Cuddy was certainly not on his agenda for the day. "Oh, you're always spoiling my fun."

She gave him a self-satisfied sneer in response. "I take a perverse pleasure in it."

He scoffed as she followed him into the clinic lobby. "I always knew you had a fetish for pain. Better not tell Chase. He might want to team up, BDSM style."

Cuddy gave him a backward glance. "I don't even want to ask."

"Yeah. It's probably better that way."

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