Author's Note: To those of you who reviewed the last chapter, HERE have a big THANK YOU hug:o) Just a little note about this chapter folks...italics are used both to emphasize words in a dialouge as well as to indicate the character's thoughts. I hope this doesn't cause too much confusion. I just have this pet peeve about using toomany devices in the body of a story...don't ask me why (it's something my therapist and I are working on :oP ) I sure hope you enjoy this chapter...and please PLEASE honor me with your thoughts, comments, criticisms...I'd love to hear what you think!

Tapping through the shadowed halls of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Allison Cameron mentally cursed herself. Although she supposed that it was only fitting that she would have to come all the way back to the office in the middle of what was supposed to be a quiet evening at home.

Exhausted from yetanother hectic case, she'd found herself lying lazily on her sofa; her usual twenty minute commute had turned into an hour and half adventure in traffic. Instantly comfortable once she hit the pillows of her couch, she groaned disgustedly when she realized that she'd forgotten the Park file sitting neatly on her desk at work.

Damn!

She pried herself out of her comfortable stupor; quickly exchanged her suit pants and heels for a pair of Levi's and tennis, grabbed her keys, and headed back to the hospital. Much to her relief, the drive back hadn't been nearly as treacherous.

Now, stepping through the halls she couldn't wait to get back home. The hospital was quiet at this hour. The halls leading to the Diagnostic's Department were already dark and deserted as the cleaning personnel would have long moved to another part of the hospital by then.

Moving earnestly toward the entrance to House's office, Cameron couldn't help but let her mind wander back to the events of the night before.

Actually, it had been the only thing she could think about all day…

Their "date" had started out so promising before the disaster that had developed at dinner.

Why was she always so damn vocal about everything? Had she been able to keep her mouth shut that night, she would have never given him an opening to do exactly what she knew he would.

He would have never been able to weasel away from what was an obvious attraction between them. They might have even learned something about each other…

She'd been mentally kicking herself for that error ever since he'd lurched headlong into his self-loathing diatribe. And while it dawned on her shortly thereafter that he'd managed to divert their topic and completely avoid her question, she restrained herself from asking him again or forcing the issue.

Chances were it would have only worsened the awkwardness between them. And there was no telling what he would have resorted to if backed into another corner.

Finally approaching the glass entrance to their offices, Cameron reaches for the handle and pads through the darkness, completely oblivious to the figure ensconced within. Reaching forward to switch the lamp on, she immediately locates the missing file and picks it up. Anxious to return home she turns again readying to retreat.

What she hadn't known was that from the moment she'd switched on the desk lamp, Gregory House had sat quietly debating whether or not to reveal his presence. It wasn't long before his leg made the decision for him; a jolt of pain radiated up the muscles of his thigh and effectively drew a moan of agony from his lips.

Without a second thought he grabbed for his Vicodin; tipping the bottle back he expertly swallowed two pills.

Maybe she didn't hear me

As soon as the thought passed through him however he watched as her shadow began to stalk closer towards him. Another desktop was illuminated with the soft light of another lamp.

Damn! Guess it was too much to hope for…

"Dr. House?"

To his surprise the sound of her voice provided a calming substitute for the maddening thoughts the darkness induced. He watched as she stepped closer into the room, her posture slightly hunched over in her attempt to make out his figure in the darkness that still cloaked around him.

"Dr. House...you startled me. I thought you'd left already."

Never abandoning an opportunity to rub her affections for him in her face he smirked in the shadows, "I could say the same thing to you…missed me that bad huh?"

It made him an ass and he knew it. But he still couldn't help himself. After all these years of solitude, indifference was by far the best device he'd acquired for masking the pain.

To his surprise she didn't seem deterred by his usually snide behavior. Instead the look that erupted upon her features conveyed her deep intrigue. She knew he was using his humor at an attempt to hide something…maybe the real reason he was still here and sitting alone in the dark?

Nevertheless, it both amused and frustrated her that House continued to underestimate her. He was in every sense of the word a puzzle; one that she'd determined she would solve even if it drove her to the brink of her own sanity. What he had yet to figure out, what she'd only discovered herself, was that every snide remark he threw at her was like another clue bringing her closer to finding the key to his hostility.

"Actually, I just came back to get my notes on the Park kid," she explained calmly, "I promised Dr. Cuddy that I'd have his complete medical file ready for her review by morning. You know…in case his parents do indeed decide to pursue some legal action against the hospital."

"They won't," his clipped response was filled with certainty, "…too embarrassing."

She quirked a questioning eyebrow in anticipation of his explanation.

"They won't risk drawing any more attention to their son then he's already drawn to himself …it says too much about their failure as his parents."

"Careful there House, it almost sounds like you're sympathizing with him. I thought you said he was a freak?" The interest in her tone was soft but evident nonetheless.

Drawing his eyes up to meet hers, House watched as she stood firmly in front of his chair. Standing before him in that tone, her arms crossed against her chest, she was intimidating. Truth be told, she scared the hell out of him. As he stared at her carefully, Annette's words reverberated again in his mind.

"Yeah well," his voice sounded small in comparison, distracted and unconvincing, "…he probably is."

Allison's gaze softened on him then. He certainly seemed in a rare form tonight, she considered. She took another few small steps closer as he shrugged and mused aloud, "Maybe what Annette said does make sense in a strange sort of way. Maybe there is a certain freedom involved in giving up control."

His voice was quiet and reflective to Cameron's ears, although it also held a very certain amount of sadness. She had no idea to what conversation with Annette he was referring; last she'd heard Annette had been barred from the hospital, and from what she'd witnessed for good reason.

She came closer. He sat up more fully in his chair. His defenses were back up; she was amazed at the actual physical transformation that played over him as he withdrew back into himself.

"Oh well," he taunted, "either way it makes no difference to me. You see, I've never been big on submissive." Leering suggestively at her now, "I'm not your typical lapdog. I don't roll over for just any one you know?"

She just stood quietly and raised an eyebrow in response to his teasing jibe. Clearly it wasn't the response he was looking for and so he rambled on, "There's just never a decent dominatrix around when you need one anymore."

It was then that she understood. On his own playing field, he was offering her a challenge. Take it or leave it.

Her reciprocating smile conveyed her intent. She wasn't going to make this easy for him, "I'm not convinced that that's what you want."

"Oh fun! Here's the part in the conversation where you dissect me some more. I was wondering when we were going to get to that. Too long without a healthy Freudian analysis makes House a dull boy…" the dramatic quality he used would have been comical if it hadn't made him appear so pathetic.

"Oh stop! You're making me blush…", if need be she would play his game. Her deadpan tone instigated a peculiar look from House, "…this isn't another Freudian analysis," she tells him. "I think even Freud would have to admit defeat where you're concerned. You're beyond even his help."

"Wow! Too twisted for Freud? That might be the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me…"

Rolling her eyes in an equally dramatic fashion, she states pointedly, "What I meant is…you don't want somebody who's going to control you or try to change you. You're far too evolved for that. You want a partner House. You want someone who can accept you for who you're always going to be and still reassure you that it's okay…someone who knows better than to expect you to be something you're not."

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, "…and what's that?"

Surprising him yet again with her calm consideration and momentary stillness she tells him softly but with a hint of a smirk, "Boring. Pedantic. Preachy."

Her words are a repetition of his own as he'd stood in her doorway not too long ago, desperately trying to convince her to come back to him. The meaning of them is not lost on him. Neither is the meaning behind her addition to that list as she continued firmly, "…damaged."

He looked up at her then, "Oh make no mistake Dr. Cameron…I'm plenty damaged."

"Not damaged," she corrected then suddenly confident in her analysis, "…maybe scarred a little bit. But not beyond healing."

Watching her intently he almost couldn't believe the turn this conversation had taken.

She really is an idealist.

"Nothing a doctor couldn't fix?" his tone was questioning certainly, but also not without an air of hopefulness. He almost hated hearing that in his own voice. Her quiet thoughtfulness was interrupted as the mix between terseness and hopefulness returned, "You think you can mend my broken heart Dr. Cameron?"

Her answering shrug was an attempt to appear unemotional, "I want to try." She gestures between them in hopes that it will relieve even a little of her exasperation, "But I'm not a fool House. I know that any relationship is a two-way street. And if you don't want me, then I guess this is the best that I can hope for."

"What?" he was conveniently clueless. "Friends?"

"Sure," she adds dejectedly, "…assuming that's something you're even capable of."

Feigning amusement, House reaches over to locate his cane. Situating it beneath him, he transfers his weight as he abandons the comfort of the chair that had housed him for the last 3 hours. Stepping cautiously closer towards her he muses, "What I still can't figure out is why…?"

Meeting his eyes fully she easily picks up on the importance in his tone. Clearly they were reaching the point in their dance around one another where all the cards would be laid out between them.

"Why what?"

"Why you choose to waste your time on me?" His penetrating stare conveyed his interest in her response. "Illusions aside, you're gorgeous, brilliant, and accomplished…and you've yet to reach your full potential. You could have your pick of any man…and I'm not exactly a prize."

His insecurities began to bubble to the surface once again as he starts ticking off the odds stacked against them, "I'm old."

"Older…" she quickly corrects, "although not by as much as you probably think."

He takes another feeble step closer into her as she stands her ground; she was apparently content to make him come to her for once. Her resolve intrigued him to a point of near distraction. Regarding her with growing interest he moves even closer, "I'm not good-looking by any stretch of the imagination…"

That comment nearly floored her, "I have a very active imagination," she teases. "Besides…from where I'm standing, sex appeal is most definitely not something you lack."

He was admittedly taken aback by her answer. A sly grin pulls at the corners of his mouth and he pauses only slightly in his advance.

"I don't play well with others…" he steps closer still; he couldn't help himself, she was drawing him in.

"Who cares about others? I just want you to play with me…"

Okay…so now I'm batting 0 for 2.

Who knew Allison Cameron could spar sexual innuendo with the best of them? It was a definite turn on as far as he was concerned.

Smiling down at her seductively he watches her carefully for any symptoms of hesitation, but was surprisingly humbled to find none.

"It'll never work between us," House tells her simply, his voice was growing quiet. "Trust me I know. I've been here before…got burned…learned my lesson."

Short sentences. Stick to short, concise sentences, he told himself.

"Really? And what lesson was that?" Her tone was nearing exasperation again, "…don't trust people? Push them away before they can get too close? Before they can hurt you?

His steely-blue eyes maintained their intensity; he kept forgetting how wise she was to his ways of thinking. It was a constant surprise.

"We've both been here before House," she counseled. "We've both lost someone we loved. But should that mean that we don't deserve another chance at happiness? Who's to say we couldn't make it work…if it's what we both really wanted? Did it ever occur to you that you might be more to me than just some pity case or juvenile fascination? Not everything is all about you House!"

Her voice brimming again with tenderness she tells him softly, "You never know…we might just have what it takes to heal each other."

For once he was without a witty comeback. He was completely outside of his comfort zone, and without any good rebuttals.

"It's not as simple as that!" he tried. "There are rules you know. Rules that dictate appropriate behavior between a fellow and their…" he was quickly interrupted by Cameron then. It was clear now that he was just trying to make any excuse stick, and she was having none of it.

"Yeah…and we all know what a team player you are when it comes to playing by the rules House!"

Well it was worth a try…

"Tell me House..." she beckons. "Was there ever a rule that you didn't break, or at least bend until it was unrecognizable?"

She already knew him too well. His conspicuous silence was confirmation enough of her suspicions.

"Just please…answer me one question. Honestly…and without a smartass comeback." Her green eyes bore into his. If he lied, they both knew he wouldn't be able to hide it. He owed her the truth. He nodded his agreement.

"How do you feel about me?"

So whatd'ya think? Third and likely final chapter should be up by Wednesday at the lastest :o)