Title: Succumb (23/25)
Summary: We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.
Rating: PG-13

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The pen scrawled rapidly over paper, producing an illegible signature. He barely checked what he was signing, doing it all on autopilot, flipping through the pile of forms Cuddy had insisted he take care of. His cane was hooked on the counter of the nurse's station, clinging to the edge of the plastic wood, and he favoured his good leg, ignoring the dull pain in the other.

He felt a presence behind him before he turned his head. He moved his eyes, catching Foreman's unreadable expression as the neurologist leant casually against the counter beside him. House resisted a deep sigh, attempting to ignore his presence, which was virtually impossible. Looked like Cameron was going to get her 'talk' after all.

He was silent and waited for Foreman to speak first.

He didn't disappoint.

"So. You and Cameron."

The corner of House's mouth twitched in a sign of his physical pain. He turned his attention back to his task, keeping his gaze fixed down. "Me and Cameron," he echoed flatly. As if that alone would warn Foreman off the subject.

Of course, he hadn't hired Foreman for his cowardice.

The other doctor pursed his lips, and House wondered if this was going to be another poor attempt to impart some kind of awe-inspiring advice. Foreman's views on the situation were continually conflictive, and House didn't have the time to wait for him to make up his mind.

He'd done that already.

"Look, I want you to know that… I think it could be a good thing."

House lifted his head, signing his signature without looking. He was probably missing the dotted line altogether. "Oh, really?" he replied sarcastically. "Thank God for that. We weren't actually asking."

Foreman heaved a deep sigh, determined to persevere despite House's roadblocks. House was amazed at the lengths he would go to for Cameron's sake. He could almost admire him for it.

"I was out of line the other day and I'm sorry. If you two want to… do whatever it is you're doing, it's none of my business, and I'm not going to say anything else about it."

House lifted an eyebrow, inwardly taken aback by Foreman's honesty. Outwardly, he remained unimpressed. "Glad to have that cleared up," he said sarcastically.

He turned back to his work, hoping that would be the end of it. Foreman wasn't moving.

"I just hope you know what's at stake here."

House's fingers pinched around his pen, and he turned to face Foreman fully. Of course he wasn't done. "Oh please, enlighten me," he piped.

"Cameron has a kid and you… aren't exactly the picture of warm and fuzzy."

House opened his mouth in mock horror. "Gee, you think that'll be a problem?" He sneered, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Don't worry, I have a plan. When she hits five, we ship her off to some European boarding school and she can visit in the school holidays, because I'm such a champ that way. Now Mommy might take the separation badly at first, but I'll make her forget all about it, if you know what I mean."

Foreman gave him a dark scowl, folding his arms steadily. He had that same vaguely smug look he had when House had taken Cameron on that disastrous date so long ago now, like he was expecting the situation to implode and there was nothing he could do but wait for it to happen. "What, so you think you can just play Daddy to Cameron's little girl?"

The strength of his doubt was reminding House of his own distant insecurities, and he struggled to ignore them. "I don't see anyone else clamouring the fill that role," he grunted sourly.

Foreman shook his head, huffing disbelievingly. "I'll believe that when I see it."

House opened his mouth to retort, and glimpsed a shadow in the corner of his eye. Cameron appeared from seemingly nowhere, purposefully striding up to them, turning so that she was standing at the counter beside House. Her warmth brushed his side, assuaging some of his mounting tension.

He wasn't sure how much of their conversation she had overheard, but judging by the irritated, defensive look on her face, he would wager that it had been more than half. Foreman looked distinctly uncomfortable, shifting in place, frowning slightly when his eyes trailed between them. Cameron directed an icy glare in his direction.

"Are you questioning my ability to raise my own child?" she asked tightly. "Because I think if anyone is going to be making that decision, it's me, not you,"

Foreman exhaled deeply, wavering over her intense stare. House resisted an unwilling, satisfied smirk. She had definitely honed her intimidation tactics. "Cameron, I didn't mean to—"

She shook her head. Her patience was wearing thin. "I understand what you're trying to do. Now stop it."

He nodded, slowly, unfolding his arms. "Yeah. Okay. I'm… sorry."

House did smirk this time, and Cameron pointedly nudged him with her arm. He gave her a look before glancing back at Foreman. No way in hell would he give him the satisfaction of accepting his apology the way Cameron wanted him to.

"Well then, I'm sure you can spare us all the discomfort of the standard, 'You hurt her, and I kill you' speech," he said, annoyed by the odd awkwardness of the conversation.

Foreman rolled his eyes, vaguely shaking his head. He looked somewhat surprised by their display of gentle ease. "I think we've made that more than clear."

"Glad to hear it," House said flatly.

Foreman sighed, nodding, and some implicit peace seemed to be restored between them. He gave Cameron a careful pat on the arm, turning back for the Diagnostics Department like he couldn't leave fast enough.

House frowned, and a long silence fell between them. They weren't quite at that stage where they could brush something like this off. Not without analysing the hidden significance.

He spared Cameron a brief glance, awkwardly fingering the edge of his papers. "So. How much will it take for us to never bring this conversation up again?"

Cameron smiled faintly. He suspected she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Don't worry. I have a feeling Foreman's already trying to forget it."

"Good to know. I might have had to fire him."

It was strange, how easily they seemed to have fallen into this pattern of comfortable banter. After their prior discussions, they had stopped consciously referring to their relationship. They were striving to merely accept it for what it was, which suited House just fine. He didn't need to apply labels to it. Labelling things made them permanent and irreversible, and they were far too volatile for that.

He knew everyone else was wondering what the hell it was they were doing, but he didn't really give a damn. It had nothing to do with them.

He turned back to his work, tossing the signed papers aside in a messy pile. Let one of the nurses sort through it. Cameron mutely leant against the counter beside him, vaguely watching his progress. He was so accustomed to her scent now he barely even noticed.

"I was wondering if it was okay if I left early tomorrow."

He glanced at her. For some reason, it wasn't that difficult to separate their professional relationship from their personal one. Maybe it was because he no longer thought of her as his subordinate. If what they had had before was a mentor/student relationship- that had disappeared the day she left the hospital.

"Sure. Any particular reason?"

She shrugged offhandedly. "I have to take Brooklyn in for a check-up."

He frowned slightly, straightening a little. "If I recall, we actually do that here."

She gave him a patient look. "Yes, and I also happen to work with the doctors here on a pretty regular basis."

He shook his head. He definitely understood that logic. "Ah. That."

"Yes. That." She moved away from the counter, white coat flapping behind her. "Thanks."

He shrugged. He still wasn't comfortable with overt expressions of gratitude, even from her. He barely turned around when he spoke next. "You should come over for dinner tonight."

He heard Cameron's feet pause on the polished floor. He could feel her eyes scrutinising him uncertainly. He did things with her and Brooklyn, sure, but he had never invited her into his private domain. He was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was part of her life, not the other way around.

"Are you… sure?"

He hated the hesitation in her voice. She was still uncertain about this after all. She could defend their relationship to others, but she was harbouring doubts. Great.

He made himself shift, turning his head to look at her. He met her eyes for a brief moment. "Bring Brooklyn. Obviously."

She nodded hesitantly. "Okay. I will."

He nodded perfunctorily, eager for the moment to end. "Good."

She paused a second longer. "Yeah, good," she repeated.

He rolled his eyes at her. "You don't have to have that deer in the headlights look. It's no big deal. Wilson will tell you that."

That earned him a smile. She shook her head, backing up slowly. "Bye, House."

He watched her slender form for a moment as she disappeared in the direction of the Diagnostics Department, probably not far on the heels of Foreman. He decided they really needed to find a new case. Lurking around corridors instead of facing his team was starting to lose its appeal

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Like the man himself, House's building hadn't changed. Not to the casual observer.

It was in a quieter section of town than hers. The rush of distant traffic met her ears, and the area around her was illuminated faintly by dim, surrounding streetlamps. Cameron lingered outside on the sidewalk for a moment with Brooklyn's hand in hers, gauging the situation.

She could feign confidence when House was involved in portions of her life, but it was a different thing entirely to be invited into his. She shook her head, sighing into the darkness, glimpsing the rush of icy breath as it clouded the air in front of her.

She had been there once before, and it looked exactly the same as she remembered. She wondered if the inside would be the same as well. She knew House didn't like change. He didn't enjoy the readjustment. It made her appreciate the effort he was going to with their new, tenuous relationship even more.

She lifted Brooklyn up in her arms, feeling her soft hair caress her cheek as she strode forward. She halted in front of the door, pausing only another fraction of a second, before lifting her gloved hand and knocking swiftly.

House didn't take long to answer, and she offered him a small, tentative smile. "Hey."

"Hey," he responded gruffly. His eyes scanned Brooklyn, and she saw a flash of faint affection before he gestured them inside.

It was such an innocent way to approach their relationship. Before, when she had envisioned things, they had gone nothing like this. She had always expected something far messier; dark and intense. It was almost like they were forced to slow down with Brooklyn between them, and she was more than happy for her daughter to help them set that pace.

"I thought you said you lived on take-out?" Cameron asked, lifting an amused eyebrow as House strode back towards the small kitchen. She placed Brooklyn carefully on the floor, keeping one eye on her as she started a curious exploration of the room. She was usually shy in foreign surroundings, but she seemed to sense that she was safe there, and she picked up on the relaxed tone in her mother's voice.

The apartment was more or less how she remembered it. Tan coloured walls, dark wood furniture, shelves of assorted books haphazardly arranged. It was so strange to be there again, after so many years, and so many changes. She felt a faint burst of sadness that it had taken them so long to get things right.

The room was cast in a gentle, dim light. She tugged off her jacket, placing it on the arm of House's sofa, noting his mild clutter. She could see his organisational tendencies was pretty much the same as they were at work.

He shot her a backwards look from inside the kitchen, inflecting a certain amount of petulance in his tone. She knew he didn't mean it. "Just so we're clear, this is a once off thing."

She rolled her eyes. Whatever he was cooking smelt… really good, actually. She suspected he was concealing a hidden talent.

He glanced at her again as she watched Brooklyn from across the room.

"You can turn on the TV for Brooklyn, if you want. I'm sure there's some kiddie friendly program on the Hallmark channel."

Cameron grinned before she could stop herself. "You have the Hallmark channel?"

House scowled. "Wilson seems to enjoy it a little too much for someone with his low moral standards."

She shook her head, deciding she would rather not question that further, and crossed the room to turn on the TV before lifting Brooklyn gently on the sofa. She grinned happily, and Cameron loosened her tiny coat, ensuring that she was perfectly content to stay in that position.

The scent of whatever House was cooking had followed her into the living room, and it drew her back into the kitchen, tantalising her senses. She stepped inside, silently leaning against the plain white counter as House continued his work.

It was a rare pleasure, to be able to watch him do something so menial without worrying about the consequences. He seemed oblivious to her scrutiny, that, or he was just ignoring her, and she admired his strong, bare arms as he sliced the vegetables and slid them into a bubbling pot.

She braced her hands against the edge of the counter, tapping her fingers vaguely and allowing her eyes to wander over the television. His cane was hooked on the handle of one of the cabinets, and she unconsciously lifted it, sliding the smooth wood through her fingers.

"You know, that's like un-holstering a man's gun. You just don't do it. Not without expecting serious consequences."

She smirked faintly, swinging his cane back and forth. "Like what?"

He narrowed his eyes. "It wouldn't be sporting if I told you about it."

She continued to grin, enjoying his feigned annoyance. She wandered over to his refrigerator; still holding onto his cane. Her curiosity was awakened when she spotted a photograph hastily tacked there. She turned back to House, and realised he was watching her. She forged ahead anyway. "That's your Mom, right?"

His blue eyes pierced her for a moment longer, before they returned to the stove. "Yeah. You did meet her once."

It was strange, that she had, when she thought about it. "Wilson put it there," he added, in case she had any doubts about his sentimentality.

She nodded. "It was a long time ago, now."

"Yeah. My Dad died about a year after you left."

She blinked, surprised. She couldn't keep the sympathy from her features. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. He looked uncomfortable. They had shifted from banter to seriousness in less than a second. She hated that they still did that. "It's fine."

She suspected that it was far from fine, but she let it go. Despite their strained relationship, she knew House had valued his father's opinion probably more than he wanted to. It was human nature, to want a parent's validation.

"Did I ever tell you why I'm an atheist?"

He frowned. He looked caught between confusion and surprise that she had steered from the topic so easily. They still had to bridge the gap between their new and old selves occasionally. It was so easy to forget that the last three years had ever happened.

"My family was religious. Not overly religious, but we used to go to church every Sunday, and my father was pretty strict about that." She unconsciously tapped her fingers on the handle of his cane. "He was very wary about science. When I told him I wanted to be a doctor, he didn't want to know anything about it. I think that's why he liked Blake… my husband… so much. He thought I would give it up once I was married." Her brow creased slightly. "I haven't really spoken to him much since Blake died."

House lifted an eyebrow slightly. It wasn't something she would have told him before. Contrary to popular belief, she wasn't very forthcoming about her past most of the time.

"Guess we have some Daddy issues in common then," he said, at last.

Cameron smiled faintly. "I guess we do."

She shifted forward, replacing his cane carefully on the cupboard handle near his side. She brushed his frame just slightly, and she peered down at the frothing pot, forcing lightness to return to her tone. "So. What are you making, anyway?"

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