Title: Succumb (22?)
Summary: We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.
Rating: PG-13
Author's note: Should be wrapping this up pretty soon. Only several more chapters to go. I really appreciate all of the lovely reviews, and that you've stuck with me for so long.

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"Well. I can't believe I thought the two of you had had a fight."

Wilson had apparently decided he'd given House enough space to resume his relentless teasing. House shot him a faint, dirty look as he rounded a corner for his office, forcing an indifferent, caustic tone to colour his voice. "You know fighting is just cover for foreplay, right?"

Wilson chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to follow House through the glass door. "And clearly you're uncomfortable about it enough to joke. That means you're serious. Good."

House twisted his features, circling his desk and uncovering his bottle of Vicodin under a few medical papers. Wilson didn't sound as surprised as he had expected him to, and he wondered if he had had any suspicions. Cameron wasn't exactly pro at evasion. "What makes you Cameron's dating authority?"

Wilson shrugged, unbothered by his palpable display of annoyance. "Hey, face it, man, you're going to have half of the hospital monitoring this relationship. They've only been waiting five years for it to happen."

House dry swallowed a pill, eyeing his friend irritably. His colleagues' collective enthusiasm regarding his love life – or, more accurately, his love life where Cameron was concerned -- was part of the reason he had wanted to keep things quiet in the first place. "Gee, you think they need blow-by-blow diagrams on the office noticeboard to keep them in the loop? You can draw, right?"

Wilson sagged into his regular chair opposite House's, propping his feet up on the desk. "Will you relax? Foreman and Chase aren't going to say anything to anyone. They're protective, not insensitive."

House lifted an intolerant eyebrow, batting Wilson's feet down again. This thing, whatever it was with Cameron, was too tentative to start picking it apart. He wished Wilson would give it a rest. "I'm starting to think I need a new friend. A battery operated one with pre-programmed topics. Like General Hospital reruns."

He knew, this was how they worked. He didn't discuss Wilson's personal life unless it was a useful distraction tactic, and Wilson prompted him about his because there was rarely anything to actually talk about. He just wasn't in the mood for it this time.

Wilson didn't catch the hint. His eyes glittered enthusiastically, surveying House with far too much interest. "So when I called you Saturday morning— you were at Cameron's?"

House huffed, evading the question. "Your interest in this is a little disturbing."

"I'm married," Wilson shot back. "I live vicariously through others."

House offered him a look that clearly said he did not believe him in the slightest. "Right."

Wilson scoffed. "Hey, you don't want to talk about this, fine. Just as long as you know what you're doing this time. You and Cameron aren't the only ones involved anymore."

Like he wasn't already aware of that. "Thank God Mother Wilson was here to protect children's rights," House snarked, inexplicably annoyed by the reminder. "You don't even like kids."

Wilson frowned, brushing something off the leg of his pants. He looked mildly offended. "That's not true. I like kids, I just don't want kids. Not right now, anyway. There's a big difference."

House scoffed slightly. "Uh-huh."

Wilson shrugged idly, picking up House grey and red ball. "Hey, at this stage, you're a lot closer to fatherhood than I am."

House expression immediately shuttered. A comment like that was Wilson's typical way of gleaning information. It wasn't going to work. "I am not Brooklyn's father."

Wilson lifted a stray eyebrow, sensing his discomfort and pushing it further. "No. But you could be. The thought has occurred to you, right? Getting into a relationship with a single mother kind of comes with the territory."

House sensed he was being tested, and slumped down on his chair, swinging his cane out at his side. "Thank you for the reminder," he said curtly, eyes tracing its rapid movements. "But I had noticed."

Wilson took on a thoughtful expression, and it occurred to House that his loyalty was divided this time. He and Cameron were friends, and he was looking out for her best interests just as he was looking out for House. "You're actually serious about this, aren't you?"

House's blue eyes darted over in his friend's direction, but Wilson was too insightful to miss the flash of unease in his steely gaze. He smiled slightly to himself, looking out over his shoulder, to the faint cloudy skyline. "Good to know."

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They ended up at the park.

It was near Cameron's apartment block, and she explained to him that she had started taking Brooklyn there regularly after day-care.

It was nearing the end of fall and the leaves were starting to crumple and brown on the earth. Brooklyn was wrapped up in a bundle of layers, confirming House's suspicions that Cameron was an overprotective parent. She looked like a stiff moving, tiny pink mushroom, waddling along the path in front of them, kicking at stray leaves and bending to inspect something she found particularly enthralling once in a while.

Foreman and Chase were, predictably, awkward around him since their minor confrontation at lunch the day before. For once, he praised Cuddy and the clinic for getting them off his back. He wasn't one to get involved in petty office squabbles. Well, certainly not when they were about him, anyway.

His moods were up and down, and tiptoeing around sensitive colleagues wasn't exactly his style. He had reassured Cameron that he wasn't worried what other people thought, and he had meant it, but it didn't mean things weren't grating a little thin. Cameron didn't seem excessively worried about it, and he figured what he said in the clinic the day before must have comforted her. She dragged him along on her little outing, sensing the reason behind his current changing moods, and he put up the expected fuss, but eventually agreed.

He wasn't loathing it as much as he thought he would. The clean air was good for his pain, and the exercise was something he was in sore need of, these last few years. And it was interesting, to see mother and daughter outside the hospital, doing something so normal.

The sky was still overcast, casting a dull gloom over their surroundings. His cane tapped against the sidewalk, offering a soothing, monotonous rhythm that interrupted the comfortable silence they appeared to be immersed in. There weren't many people he could enjoy silence with. He generally felt the need to keep the conversation going, through witty banter, or, as was more likely, caustic insults, effectively eliminating the chances of contemplation.

Cameron was also clad in several warm layers, with a cream scarf wound around her neck and a grey jacket. She seemed to take a childlike fasciation in the cold, and had a faint smile curling around her lips when she gazed up at the sky.

It was still too early for snow, but he could tell that was what she was thinking about.

"It's not going to snow yet."

Cameron blinked, turning her head to look at him, offering him a small, genuine grin. "What makes you think I thought it was?"

He rolled his eyes. "You've got a dazzle in your eye. I'm assuming snow has some kind of romantic connotation in your mind. Never mind the freezing your ass off factor."

Cameron laughed. The light sound was almost musical, and something he rarely heard. "And of course you can find every reason to be negative about the idea."

"Naturally."

He eyed Brooklyn as they neared a playground, whose face seemed to light up at the sight. Cameron started to move in front of him in that direction, and he frowned slightly, following after her. There were a few other kids swinging on the jungle Jim, and chasing each other under the gaudy yellows slide, but only one or two were as young as Brooklyn was.

Cameron stopped in front of a bench directly overlooking the sandbox, sitting down and gesturing Brooklyn in front of her. She straightened her jacket, fastening it until it was buttoned all the way to her chin, smiling down at her gently. They shared such a natural affection, and for a moment, House just observed them thoughtfully.

"You can play for a little while, okay, sweetie?"

Brooklyn bobbed her head, climbing over the wood dividers with tentative steps and plonking happily in the white sand.

House continued to frown, lifting his cane and lowering himself on the bench beside Cameron. "Isn't she a little young to be in there by herself?"

Cameron gave him a look. She seemed slightly amused by his tone, cupping her gloved hands under her arms. "Backseat parenting, House?" she teased. "She's fine. She only plays in the sandbox."

He shook his head slightly, absently fingering the handle of his cane. "Right."

He shifted his cane in one hand, reaching into his jacket with the other, and retrieving his bottle of Vicodin. Cameron eyed him thoughtfully as he dry swallowed one pull, and he gave her a look. "What?"

"I haven't seen you taking as much as you used to. It seems like you're cutting down."

House scowled. He was inwardly surprised she had noticed. "Does this come with the whole dating thing? Monitoring my drug intake?"

Cameron was silent, glancing over at Brooklyn again, who was clumsily patting a ball of sand together in her tiny hands. He sighed deeply. "I cut down to 60mg about a year after you left," he admitted, in a much quieter voice. "They were starting to have some nasty side effects."

Cameron looked concerned, but wisely didn't voice it. "That's probably good, though, right?"

"If you mean am I less dependent on them, the answer is no. It hasn't changed anything."

She looked doubtful, but shrugged. They rarely spoke about his leg, certainly not when she had been working for him before. After she heard the story behind his infarction, it became a sensitive topic. He wasn't any more comfortable talking about it now.

Cameron seemed to sense this, and quietly let it go. She knew that getting him to open up to her involved baby steps, and she was content with what she had managed to accomplish thus far. She wasn't interested in pushing him. It had been her biggest failing last time. And she had her own sensitive discussion points.

House decided to change topics before he made her uncomfortable. He didn't want to alienate her, not after things had just started to fall into place between them.

"You know, it occurs to me that calling me House might be messing with Brooklyn's concepts a little."

Cameron recognised what he was doing, and couldn't help a small smile. She shifted in place, leaning back so her heels were dragging over the ground. "Really? What would you prefer she call you?" She smirked as she thought about the prospects. "Uncle Greg? Greg? Because she's not so good with her 'r' sounds, so it might sound more like 'Gweg'."

House tried, and failed, to hide a smirk at her attempt to mimic her daughter. "You don't even call me Greg. That'll just give her a whole Oedipal complex, and then you've really messed her up for life."

He paused, as if considering what he had implied with that statement. After Wilson's earlier interrogation, he felt slightly awkward about the exact role he was expected to play in Cameron's life. He wasn't stupid. He knew what he was getting himself into when he suggested they date. It was just different, hearing the words uttered so nakedly.

Father.

Cameron didn't seem to catch onto it, or if she did, she chose to overlook it. "You don't call me Allison, either."

Her first name on her lips sounded odd to him, and he wasn't sure why. He had never called her that before. They had slept together, and he hadn't even called her by her first name.

"Maybe I'm just waiting for an opportune moment," he remarked nonchalantly.

Cameron lifted an eyebrow at that cryptic remark. "What counts as a opportune moment, exactly?"

"That would be telling, wouldn't it?"

She chuckled, before looking down. Her expression suddenly took on a more sombre quality. "You know, I ran into Chase on my way to the parking lot this afternoon."

House rolled his eyes, annoyed at the interruption to their light banter. "Oh joy. Did he throw the office rulebook at you? Threaten to call a priest?"

Cameron frowned. "No. He seemed okay with it. He knows it isn't going to change anything in the office."

"That's right," he jeered. "He'll always be the reigning whipping boy."

She shook her head, but she looked mildly amused. "I haven't really spoken to Foreman, though."

"He'll get over it. We've just upped the political incorrectness of the team. That's usually his job."

She ignored the racism behind his remark. She knew it was basically harmless. Or she hoped it was. "Maybe you should. Talk to him."

House rolled his eyes at her determination to play peacemaker. Or nudge him into the role. "Yeah, but personally, I prefer it when our office tension roils under the surface with tight smiles and lots and lots of silence."

Cameron rubbed her hands together, sliding off one of her gloves. "I just don't want things to get awkward again. Not after we just got everything back to normal."

House stifled a sigh, gazing out over the playground. "You worry way too much about everyone else."

She bristled, mildly defensive. Still so determined to defy him. "Is there something so wrong with that?"

"When it interferes with me? Yes."

She scoffed. He had noticed, in their years working together, that her eyes changed in shade depending on the colours around her. It was an intriguing quality. Today, with the grey of her jacket and the dull gloom of the afternoon, they were a bright, emerald green, piercing into him defiantly.

It still amazed him, how easily they could shift, from friendly banter to irritation. Their emotions were always so intense, swirling unpredictably, threatening to tip in either direction.

He reached forward, sliding his thumb slowly over the curve of her cheek, surprising her. She blinked, and he swiped a curl of hair out of her face, tucking it slowly behind her ear. It was a foolproof way to shock her into silence. "You're much cuter when you're pissed off."

Cameron struggled, ineffectively, to maintain her glare. "Does that mean you do it on purpose?"

He met her gaze, holding it smugly. "I always did it on purpose."

He bent forward, brushing his lips briefly against her cheek, chafing her soft skin with his stubble. He lingered there, inhaling her sweet vanilla fragrance, enjoying the way she drew in a shaky breath. Just as she shifted to kiss him, he drew back, giving her a mock frown.

"Tsk tsk, there are kids watching us, Cameron. What would the other moms say?"

Cameron narrowed her eyes at him, hitting him on the arm, connecting with his cold leather jacket. He continued to smirk, enjoying their unexpected ease. "Uh-uh, you're giving schoolyard bullies all over some pivotal pointers."

"Shut up."

"They're gonna snatch that comeback right up, too."

Cameron jumped to her feet, giving him another dirty look. Amusement glittered behind her eyes. "I'm going to go get Brooklyn now."

"Better clean up that attitude before you do. Wouldn't want her to start following Mommy's bad example."

She rolled her eyes, stepping over the wood divider, approaching Brooklyn, still playing intently by herself in the sand. He smirked, leaning back on the bench, shifting his cane absently from hand to hand.

Glancing up at the sky, he noted it was looking suspiciously like snow. For once, he decided he didn't mind.

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