Chapter 6

Cameron stretched as she lay in bed. She knew she should feel content. She wanted too so badly. If House didn't want her, that should not stop her from being happy. Come on, Allison, she thought, there is a loving man in your bed. What more could you want? Well, she noticed as she rolled over, he wasn't actually in her bed. Her brows came together as she reached for the clock. Eleven o'clock on a Friday morning. She would normally be at work by now, but Cuddy had generously given them this day off because of the strain of the shooting and surgery. It had been ten days since House was shot. It had been several since House rejected her. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and stretched again. The smell of bacon wafted by her, and she could now vaguely hear the radio playing in the living room. Putting on his shirt and a pair of track shorts, she drifted that way.

"Good morning," he beamed as he placed a big plate of eggs and bacon down on the table for her. As she sat down, he said, "I love your choice of dress, very fashionable."

He kissed her as he bent down. She found herself putting her hands around the back of his head and passionately kissing him back. "We better stop," he growled, "or we'll never eat."

"Let's starve," she practically purred as her hands glided down the back of his legs.

The man pulled himself away from her and sat down across the table. His smile drifted away until his face looked solemn. "We haven't talked about House."

Her fork clattered onto the plate. Cameron's hands clenched over her mouth. Looking into his eyes, she mumbled, "He said he didn't have feelings for me. And I came home to you."

His lips curved into a small smile. "I'm glad," he said quietly.

She took a deep breath as her eyes dropped to her eggs. "I don't think we should tell him about us. Not until he's better."

Cameron noticed him grimace. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, "Why wait if he doesn't care for you?"

She shook her head. "Because it's the right thing to do."

He opened his mouth to speak, but there was a knock at the door.

For the second time in one week, she told him, "Hold that thought."

The man kissed her swiftly one last time then said, "I'm going to go to the bathroom."

She got up and reached for the door handle. As she twisted the knob, she realized that the knock on the door had been more of a bang, bang, bang, as if a solid object was hitting against the door.

If she hadn't have been an atheist, she would have prayed. She pulled the door open.

"House?"

TBC