Chapter 7

Cameron opened the door just far enough so that he couldn't see inside. She held one hand on the door and the other on the doorframe. "What are you doing here? They let you out?" she asked.

House just smiled at her. "What are your dreams, hopes, and aspirations?"

Now she really looked puzzled. She tried to straighten her bed-head hair with her hand. "What are you talking about?"

He smiled again, but more self-consciously as he looked at the floor and then back at her. "A wise man once told me that was a definite panty-peeler," he said.

She shuffled her feet and repeated, "What are you doing here, House?"

Those blue eyes looked right at her. She looked absolutely beautiful in that shirt and those shorts. The morning light suited her. Everything suited her. House was hoping he did, too. House blurted, "Don't date the doctor from Africa. You don't know where he's been. Well, I guess you do know—he's been in Africa, but you get my figure of speech here, right?"

She blinked a few times and pursed her lips. "Huh?"

House sighed out of frustration, his head jerking in the way it always did when he wanted to do something but didn't know how to go about it. "I mean that I lied," he finally answered.

Cameron harrumphed. "Everybody lies, right?"

House smiled a little as he realized his own lessons were coming back to bite him in the butt. "I guess I am no exception," he replied. "I just…I just wanted to tell you that this guy, whoever he is, is a mistake."

She folded her arms. "What are you trying to say, House?"

Her green eyes were too much. He had to look into them. House had the sudden urged to know what they looked like by firelight, but he pushed that thought away and journeyed on, saying, "I'm saying that it might be a mistake to be with me too, but maybe we…"

She was practically panting for the rest of his sentence. "What?" she asked. "We should what?"

His thought was gone. House's eyes squinted as his brows furrowed. "You're clenched," he told her. "Why? You only clench when there's a prob—"

"Allison, who's at the door?" a familiar voice asked from inside the apartment, cutting House off.

Oh, no, House thought, his fist tightening around the handle of his cane. I'm too late.

The man came to stand right behind Cameron. He wore only a pair of jeans. House realized that the shirt he had thought looked so good on her was this man's. He could use some Vicodin about now.

"Dr. House," the man said with way too much testosterone and manly pride. "Hope you're feeling better."

He looked straight at the younger man with every intention to bludgeon him to death if he had the chance. Why did he think he ever stood a chance?

House finally responded to the man's greeting. "Dr. Chase."

TBC