Disclaimer: I ... still don't own them. :( It's a sad, sad day...

Chapter Nine

When the alarm went off the next morning, Cameron grumbled before turning over and hitting the snooze button. It didn't seem that the alarm or her movement had bothered House, as he appeared to have remained sleeping with his arm thrown haphazardly over her waist.

She didn't want to get up. It was Thursday, and Thursday was supposed to be a very bad day. But waking up in House's arms had already made it ten times better. Smiling to herself, she moved to get out of bed.

House's arm tightened around her waist and pulled her back to him. "It's not even seven in the morning," he muttered. His eyes were still closed, though he actually had woken up with the alarm. "It isn't going to kill you to stay in bed for another hour."

"I need to get up and shower so my hair will dry before work," she explained, surprised at how normal it felt to wake up next to House.

"Use a blow dryer," he groused. "If Wilson can use one, I'm pretty sure you can."

"Why are you so adamant about keeping me in bed? You can go back to sleep," she stated with a small laugh when she attempted to get out of bed again, but was thwarted by his arm once more.

"Because I'm warm and if you leave, I'll be cold. And so will my leg, which means that it'll start hurting. And then I'll have to make you get my Vicodin out of my coat pocket, and you'll clench because you hate the fact that I take them, and things will just get ugly. Therefore, you should stay in bed, where you can keep my leg warm."

"What logic," she remarked with a yawn.

"You're even still tired." He reached over her and reset the alarm for seven-thirty. "Back to sleep."

"House-"

"Sleep!" he exclaimed, closing his eyes and pulling her close again. "I'll even pay for breakfast on the way to work."

"But-"

"Cameron. Sleep."

"I'm awake now!"

"Then stay awake! Just stay in bed," he mumbled, resting his chin on top of her head. He'd been serious when he told her that the warmer his leg was, the better it felt. There was always a dull throbbing, but it worsened immensely when his leg was cold. Body heat helped considerably. So did those sticky heating pad things, but he didn't want to buy them.

Cameron sighed and turned so that she was facing him, letting her arm rest around his waist and closing her eyes. Maybe she could doze off again…

The next time the alarm went off, she jumped. She'd actually gone back to sleep? She hadn't fallen back to sleep after waking up since… A small smile spread on her face. Since Dean. She sighed and sat up, turning off the alarm. House slept peacefully by her side, shifting only slightly when she sat up.

She may as well admit it to herself. She was head over heels for him, and there was nothing to be done for it. It was rather ironic that she'd finally admit it on the anniversary of her husband's death, but she'd live with it. Dean had told her that he wanted her to find happiness again, and maybe she had.

As she got out of bed, she shook herself out of her reverie. She needed to stop before she got ahead of herself. House wasn't promising her anything. They didn't even have a real relationship, as things stood. They'd almost slept together, but she knew better than to think that almost having sex actually meant anything in the wide world of House. She didn't even know if actually having sex meant anything in House's mind.

But she put most of her doubts for the day in the back of her mind and grabbed up her work clothes, padding into the bathroom to turn on the shower. Before stepping in, though, she wrapped her towel around her and went to the living room, grabbing the Vicodin out of House's jacket and going back into the bedroom to place it on the bedside table, where he'd see it when he woke up.

It was natural for her to do things like that. It always had been and probably always would be, she thought as she stepped into the shower.

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The morning at work passed by uneventfully. Cameron, Foreman, and Chase sat in the diagnostics room with House, trying desperately to come up with any new possibilities involving Caitlin's case. They'd decided on ways to alter her diet, trying each new alteration for five days at a time. There was no other way to go about this. And solving the problems with her stomach may solve all of the woman's other problems.

Chase left to inform the patient of the diet alterations, House went to his office to watch TV, and Cameron sat in the diagnostics room with Foreman, discussing their plans for that evening.

"I have to leave here around five and meet someone for dinner, then I'll meet you guys at the bar."

"Where did you want to go, anyway?" Foreman asked. "There's this new place that just opened down the road called the Caduceus." He laughed and poured himself a cup of coffee. "It might be cool to check it out."

Cameron smiled at the name and nodded. "Sounds like a plan. What's your girlfriend do?"

"She's a real estate agent," he informed her, blowing on his coffee to cool it. "I met her when I was looking for a new place. You'll like her. She's got a great sense of humor." He sat back down and tucked his tie against his shirt. "So how are things with House?" he asked knowingly. "Jump him yet?"

She rolled her eyes and went to refill her own coffee cup. "No," she responded emphatically. "And I don't plan on doing so. If he wants something, he can make the first move." Which he sort of had last night. And she hadn't jumped him! She'd just … sort of … straddled him a little.

"You know he won't do that, Cameron."

"I'm … not so sure he won't," she said mysteriously, leaning against the counter and sipping at her coffee. "But it doesn't matter right now. So I'll meet you two at the Caduceus around seven or eight."

Foreman grinned at Cameron's reluctance to talk about anything concerning House. He was more than willing to be that something had happened between them last night, which meant he had about two hundred dollars total coming his way from Cuddy, Wilson, and Chase. "You, uh… Sure there isn't anything happening with House?"

"Foreman, I'm not discussing it with you, even if there is," she said sweetly. "I know when you're pulling the big brother act and I know that you told House to be his jerky self when he took me on a date."

"How did you find that out?" he asked incredulously.

Cameron grinned and sipped at her coffee some more. "I know your secret," she said in a sing-song voice, right as Chase rushed into the room.

"Gluten!" he said excitedly, hurrying to the dry-erase board and jotting down a series of symptoms in green instead of the black that House had used. "I remembered the case from med school. The patient couldn't eat anything containing gluten without getting sick. And every time she ate something containing gluten, she'd show more symptoms and diseases."

House stood in his doorway with a print-out from his computer. "Celiac Disease," he stated with a smirk. "Let's get C-girl to stop eating bread. Foreman, Chase, go tell her we know what's wrong and start her on meds to reverse the symptoms so far, then give her the right diet. Cameron, you stay here and chart it."

"I'll chart it," Foreman offered with a smirk. "Cameron can go and-."

"Go do your job, Foreman," House said threateningly. Foreman held his hands up in surrender and whistled on his way out of the room. House turned his attention back to Cameron. "Are you going to the cemetery tonight?" he asked bluntly.

She nodded and wrote down some notes on the charts. "I promised Jackie I'd meet her there."

"I'll need a spare key to your apartment, then."

Cameron frowned and reached into her pants pockets. She pulled out the only key to her apartment and handed it to him. "I don't keep a spare, so just take mine. I'll be back around six-thirty or seven, and then I'm meeting Foreman, Chase, and Foreman's girlfriend for drinks at this new place a few blocks away from the hospital."

He walked to her and took the key, letting his hand hover with hers for just a few moments. "Stop by Zeigler Florist on your way to the cemetery," he told her, going back to his office. "There's a bouquet ready there."

She looked up in surprise and was ready to thank him as the door swung shut behind him.

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House swung his leg over his bike and started the engine, the key to Cameron's apartment tucked safely away in the pocket of his jeans. He sped his way to her apartment and felt lost once he was actually there.

What was he supposed to eat for dinner? Cameron usually cooked. But she was out with what's-her-name, visiting that guy's grave. Yeah … he was great with names. He sat down on the couch and grabbed up the remote, turning on something drab for background noise as he considered ordering some take-out.

The good thing about Cameron being out and planning on dropping by only to change and then go out again was that it gave him time to assess his current situation. The exterminator still hadn't called, which was more annoying than he cared to admit. And until he heard back, there was nothing he could do about his living situation.

Sleeping with Cameron, only sleeping with her, had an effect on him that he didn't care to admit to. He felt lighter somehow, and that irked the hell out of him. She had no right to barge into his life and try to take away his bitterness. And that's just what she was trying to do. It had to be. That's who she was.

He frowned deeply and picked up the phone, calling for a pizza. After hanging up, he settled back into his thoughts. Cameron was too nice to try and manipulate him. He'd spent some of his time today talking to Wilson about part of the ordeal. And while talking to his friend, he basically dropped subtle hints that maybe something happened between them and maybe he had liked it, interspersed with bits of snark, of course.

Wilson had suggested that Cameron was just as confused as House was, and that they both needed to sit down and talk about it. House, however, knew that the likeliness of that happening was equivalent to his leg healing completely and him dancing under rainbows.

It wasn't going to happen.

He tapped the butt of his cane irritably on the coffee table as he listened to the noise that the television provided. What was he going to do about this? He was finding himself far more attached to Cameron than he ever wanted to be, and that not only bothered him, but it scared him. The last time he fell this fast for someone, it had been Stacy. And look how that turned out. She was happily married to another man. Things were just looking so damned bright.

But, he reminded himself, Cameron was most definitely not Stacy. She was nicer, more compassionate… She was a much more beautiful person that Stacy ever had been. House had been attracted to Stacy because she was, quite frankly, a bitch. She knew what she wanted and she knew how to get it. She shared his sense of humor and wasn't easily wounded. What was best about her was that she was a strong person who didn't let small things get to her.

Cameron, on the other hand… Cameron was the furthest thing from a bitch. She was sure of what she wanted, and certain of how to get a hold of it, but she rarely had the gumption to follow through with it. She was the very epitome of a healer: kind, concerned, considerate, and constantly worried. It was far too easy to wound her, and the wounds that were inflicted always cut deep.

So why was he so attracted to her? What about her made him want to stick around? It was getting more difficult each day for him not to mock her at least a little bit. He'd started literally biting his tongue each time a remark sprang to his lips. But there was no way he was going to give into his desire to mock her; it would get him two extra weeks of clinic duty. Forget that.

He picked up the remote and clicked off the television. What worried him the most was that he could feel himself adapting to Cameron. It wasn't any easier to hold back his sarcastic remarks. It wasn't any easier to be nice to her. But it was getting easier to forget for a little while that his leg was in pain. And it was getting a little bit easier to tease her and joke with her. It was getting much easier to be around her. He recognized this feeling that was starting in his gut, and he wasn't the least bit happy about it.

What right did she have to do this to him? To try to change him? To heal him? And to begin to pull it off.

There was a knock on the door, which he knew had to be the pizza. He answered it, paid for the pizza, and went into the kitchen, where another frown settled on his face.

"Damn you, Cameron," he muttered into the kitchen. "I should fire you." He took his pizza and plopped a few pieces on a plate before going into the fridge and getting a glass of orange juice. "I should grab all of my shit and just leave this place before you get back. This is ridiculous. You have me talking to myself! I really hope you're happy…" He took his pizza back into the living room, where Cameron had ordered him not to eat, and put his feet up on the coffee table in his own little act of rebellion.

He'd just started on his third piece of pizza when Cameron walked in the door. She saw him eating in front of the TV and frowned. "I told you to eat at the table…" She shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the coat rack before going to him and stealing a pepperoni off of his pizza. "Thank you. For the flowers."

He shrugged uncomfortably, batting at her hand to keep it away from his food. "It was Wilson's idea," he muttered.

She smiled and sat down in one of the chairs. "Well thank you anyway." After glancing at the TV, her eyebrows raised. "You're watching Spongebob?" she asked flatly.

"It's quality programming."

"For pre-teens," Cameron retorted with a snort.

House's gaze slid over to her. "Aren't you supposed to be going out with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum?"

"I told them I'd meet them around seven or eight. I have time." She sat back comfortably in her chair and gave a small sigh. "Why did you order a pizza?" she asked, her head resting on the back of the chair.

"You weren't here to cook," he answered simply. "And you don't have anything to make sandwiches with."

"There were leftovers in the fridge."

House gasped and dropped his pizza to his plate. "You expected me to go through your things! Dr. Cameron, I'm surprised." He went back to eating his pizza with a semi-lecherous smirk. "By the way, I think I'm in love with that sexy little underwear drawer you keep."

"Oh, ha, ha," she responded tiredly. "If I kept a sexy underwear drawer, I'd be embarrassed."

He cringed. "Don't tell me you're a granny-panty type of girl."

She laughed. "No. I'm not." She stood and made her way to the bedroom, intent on finding different clothes to wear to the bar. With a grin, she settled on low-rider jeans and a cute little red top that she hadn't worn for a few months. If she was going to have a night out, she'd look good, damn it.

Standing at the grave site with Jackie had been a more cleansing experience than Cameron had expected it to be. Jackie had asked about Cameron's personal life, and Cameron had answered honestly, that she was interested in someone. They talked about it over dinner, and Jackie had smiled at the end and told Cameron that she wanted to meet this man, which had warmed Cameron's heart a little. She looked at Jackie as a mother and always would.

After changing, Cameron grabbed her cell phone and headed back into the living room, shoving the phone in her pocket. "House, I need my apartment key back," she informed him, going straight to her coat to grab her key ring.

"Here you go," he told her, tossing it at her.

She caught it, which she found impressive, and started placing it back on her key ring. "Have you heard from the exterminator at all?"

House scowled. "No. And I'm starting to think they've killed Steve."

"Steve…?"

"Steve McQueen," he said, stating it as though she really ought to know who he was. "My rat."

"Leave it to you to own a rat," she muttered. "Look, I'll be out late. If you get hungry, now you know that there are leftovers in the fridge. And has it crossed your mind to actually call the exterminator and ask what's going on?"

"Cameron, if I could remember the number, I would. As of right now, that number is sitting in my apartment on my counter top, just waiting to be called." He popped the last of his pizza in his mouth and looked at her for a retort.

"Then do what you do with all of your patients," she said, grabbing her coat and heading out the door. "Break in."

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The night out with the boys had gone very well. It really had been just what she needed. And Foreman had been right; she thought his girlfriend was great. The two of them got along well, and spent most of the night picking on Foreman and Chase. She'd only had a few drinks, and had followed them with water, being sure not to drink for at least one hour before going home.

Cameron checked her watch as she opened the door quietly. It was well past midnight, which she didn't really have a problem with. They didn't have any patients tomorrow, unless someone came in. And in that case, coffee would get her focused just fine. She was surprised to see all of the lights still on.

"You're still up?" she asked House in surprise upon seeing him sitting on the couch, playing a video game.

"No. I'm sleep-playing. It's a new technique they're developing over at Princeton. I was the number one candidate since I'm so damn cuddly." He paused the game and looked over at her. "People called to talk to you. Your mother was particularly interested when I answered the phone," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, God… What did you say to her?" she asked, panicking at the possibilities. Her mother would kill her…

"I told her that you were out with friends and would call her tomorrow. See? I can be nice."

But Cameron was suspicious. "You really didn't snark at her?"

"Nope. Not that I wasn't tempted. I had to make it up in other areas." He un-paused the game and continued playing to avoid the glare he knew he was going to get. "I snarked at that Joe guy instead."

Cameron stood quietly, staring at House slack jawed. "House… What did you say to him?"

"I don't remember." He protested loudly when Cameron snatched the controller out of his hands and turned off the game. "Oh, fine. Turn off my game."

"I want to know what you said to him."

"Why?" he asked accusatorily. "It seemed like you really didn't want to speak with him last night, and I took care of it. I don't see why you need to know what was said. All you need to know is that he isn't going to bother you anymore."

"You took care of it?" she asked dangerously, tossing the controller into a box with others. "What the hell do you mean, you 'took care of it?' It wasn't your problem to take care of! I would have dealt with it sooner or later!"

He grabbed his cane and stood, looking at her as though he didn't quite believe her. And he didn't. "How?" he asked acerbically. "By deleting his messages off of your answering machine? By hanging up on him? Or maybe even by just not bothering to answer his calls. That sure is dealing with it, Cameron."

"You're scolding me for not being able to deal with something?" she asked with a disbelieving laugh. "Well if it isn't the pot calling the kettle black."

"The last time you brought my leg into an argument, I kissed you," he reminded her. "Do it again and I might fuck you against a wall, so watch it."

"It's ironic that me pointing out your faults makes you so angry, but when you point out mine, you think it's fun."

"You used ironic incorrectly," he snapped back. "I'm not arguing with you about faults right now, Cameron." He moved toward her and was pleasantly surprised when she didn't move away. "I took care of something that I know for a fact you never would have. Shouldn't you be happy about that?"

"No. I shouldn't," she protested softly. "It's not your place to do that. You're not…" She paused and looked away from him. "You aren't my boyfriend, fiancé, or husband to solve my problems. I can speak to you about them, but you have no right attempting to solve them."

"So what you're saying is that if I date you, I can?" he asked with a sneer.

"I didn't mean it that way. I just meant…" She let out a frustrated sigh and gripped her hair with her hands. "If you ever feel like solving another problem of mine, talk to me about it first."

"Why? So you can tell me how you'll take care of it?"

"You're talking like you plan on solving a lot of my problems in the future," Cameron shot back heatedly.

He moved closer to her… Dangerously close. "And if I told you I was? What then?"

Her eyes narrowed to angry slits. "What are you going to do next, House? Tell me you love me and then swab my mouth? Well, guess what! I've already been given the all-clear on that, so you'll have to try something else this time." When he had done that, it had cut deep and reminded her that she was still far from over him.

He looked down at her and frowned. "First, if I ever tell you I love you, it's never going to be in front of Blackie and the Wombat," he said lowly. "Second, you deserved that. You were refusing to get the test for a fear that was completely unfounded. The chances of you contracting AIDS were slim to none. Third…"

When he didn't continue, Cameron finally looked at him expectantly. "Third?"

His finger slipped into one of the belt loops on her jeans and pulled her close to him. "Third," he murmured, his free hand dropping his cane and going into her hair to pull her in for a heated kiss. It was official: he'd fallen. Somewhere along the way, he'd fallen for Allison Cameron. It hadn't been a hard fall … it had been slow and sweet. And that pissed him off, but he'd live with it. Of course, he probably wouldn't tell Cameron…

"Why do you keep kissing me after we argue?" she asked her lips brushing his as she spoke.

"Arguing with you turns me on. What can I say?" he responded, moving away from her and leaning on the edge of the couch for support. "I think it's a prelude to awesome makeup sex."

"Not tonight, it isn't," she mumbled, looking at the clock. "It's almost one in the morning, House. I have to be up in four hours."

"No. You have to be up in six hours."

"My morning jog-"

"You planning on sleeping in your bed with me again?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

She blinked and shrugged. "I wasn't going to ask…"

"Well, you're going to sleep there. And you're going to sleep until seven so that I can get a full night's sleep without my leg waking me up." He knew that was the best way to get to her. Make her feel guilty.

After a moment of internal debate, she sighed. "Fine. I'll sleep with you again."

He smirked and went to the bedroom, tossing her the pajamas that she'd folded neatly and set on the edge of the bed. "You put my Vicodin on the bedside table this morning," he stated plainly as she went into the bathroom to change.

"I thought it would help."

"It did," he replied, leaning against the doorway to the bedroom and waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. He heard her brushing her teeth (something he'd done hours ago), and then the sound of the sink, before she appeared in the doorway. He let her get settled in bed before climbing in, as well.

This time, neither of them fell asleep all that quickly. Both of them had their minds on the argument that they'd had. Cameron was dwelling on how much House's kisses were affecting her. House was dwelling on the fact that he'd fallen for a woman at least fifteen years his junior.

He frowned thoughtfully and closed his eyes, planning on falling asleep. He hadn't had any liquor in the past three days. His leg wasn't hurting him as badly. He'd cut his Vicodin intake by five pills. Ever since staying with Cameron. He looked over at her and wasn't surprised to see that she was already asleep. He'd get there eventually.

In her sleep, Cameron sighed and rolled over, cuddling into House's side.

Well … maybe he'd get to sleep a bit sooner than expected.