Cameron woke the next morning, the faint light from the window burning her eyes. It didn't take her long to remember where she was. She rolled over, but was disappointed to see the empty stretch of wrinkled sheets. Straightening the shirt House had lent her, she sat up on the bed, her ears straining to hear any sounds of life in the apartment. Silence. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember what day it was. Sunday. House wouldn't be at work. She gently slid her bare legs over the edge of his bed and cautiously made her way into the living room. She wasn't too surprised to find it empty. She went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. That's when she found his note. Relived that he hadn't just left her, she picked up the piece of paper, her eyes passing over his scrawling words slowly.

Cameron-

Don't worry, I haven't abandoned you.

I've just gone out for some breakfast.

Don't cook!

-House

P.S. I think we need to talk.

Cameron reread the last line close to a hundred times. It was House suggesting that they talk? She was surprised but also relieved; she had been afraid to bring up the topic of 'them' for fear of scaring him away. Settling with a glass of water, Cameron went to the couch, flipping on the TV. She had only been entranced by a children's show for fifteen minutes when House staggered through the door. He was laden down with several bags, making walking with his cane even more of a chore than usual.

"Help?" Cameron asked, raising an eyebrow. House didn't say anything, just gave a curt nod. Setting her glass on the table, Cameron got to her feet to take some of the bags from him.

"I didn't think you'd be up yet," he grunted, taking a bag to the kitchen. Cameron followed, holding a bag open for an idea of what was for breakfast. "No peeking," House said over his shoulder.

"You went out for breakfast?" she asked incredulously. She placed her bags on the counter like House had done.

"I figured I owed you. I would've made it myself," he added at her skeptical look. "But I didn't have any breakfast stuff left after you cooked that morning." Cameron brought a hand to her cheek to hide the red creeping onto her face. "Now go back to your cartoons. You're in my way." Smiling playfully, she obeyed, going back to her spot on the couch. Occasionally she'd jump at the sound of pots clattering to the floor, but gave House his dignity and ignored it. He didn't need her help.

"Cameron?" he called after a while. She tore her attention away from the TV and went back into the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, closely examining his fingernails. "We should…talk."

"OK," she said lightly, hopping up on the counter across from him. "About what?" It was stupid question. Of course, she knew what he wanted to talk about. But getting him to say the words seemed like the thing to do.

"About…" He waved his hand vaguely in front him. "This. About…what we're doing." He let out a breath. Those last four words were hard for him to say, to admit. Cameron shoved her hands under her thighs, her gaze locked on House's feet. She tried to think of something to say that would lighten the mood, and wipe away the nervous look that had fallen onto House's face.

"Oh." Brilliant.

"I just think…" He let out another breath, sorting out the words in his mind.

"You want to know if I'm serious?" Cameron ventured. House's hands fell to his side. It was enough of an answer. She stepped forward, close enough so that, should he want to, he could reach out and take her in his arms. "Yes, House. I…I can't think of anything else when you're around. And it scares the hell out of me." The smile was too sincere, too real for her to mistake it. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and took one of his hands in hers. "I'm not asking that you move me in with you, or that you stop your teasing at work. I…I just want you to know that you can trust me." House nodded. He knew he could trust her. With his free hand, he reached up and cupped her cheek, stroking his thumb softly under her eye. Cameron's eyes slid closed, and she concentrated on breathing.

"Allison." The sound of his voice, huskily breathing her name, drove Cameron insane. Locking her eyes with his, she placed one arm on either side of his hips, pinning him to the counter. She pressed her body against his, reaching up to connect their lips. She could feel his hesitance at first, but he soon started giving back to her. His hands fell to her waist, pulling her even closer. She smelled of raspberries and vanilla, two scents he'd forever place with her. She pulled away, enough to capture his stare. His usually bright eyes were cloud with passion. Passion for her. Cameron cursed her self for breaking away, and moved to press her lips against his once again, but stopped, her nose wrinkling.

"What the hell is that?" House took a few sniffs.

"Shit!" He pushed Cameron aside, and turned to a waffle iron she hadn't noticed. Smokey clouds were pouring out the edges, filling the room with a potent odor. House pried the thing open and peeled off the blackened waffle, tossing it in the sink. Turning on the faucet, he faced Cameron, a sheepish grin on his face. "That's your fault," he said accusingly. "You distracted me." Cameron smiled and turned to leave, stopping in the doorway.

"Fine," she said, smirking. "I'll just go back to my cartoons."

Almost an hour after the near burning down of House's apartment, he finally emerged from the kitchen with two perfectly brown waffles topped with strawberrie syrup. Cameron took her plate eagerly, not bothering with a knife to cut off reasonably sized pieces. House watched her for a few moments in shock; he'd never seen anything so small eat like that before. House shifted in his seat next to her, eying the TV.

"You're a fan of Dora the Explorer?" he asked seriously. She stopped her shoveling long enough to shoot him an angry glare. Lifting his eyebrows, he changed the channel to a news station.

"I can't believe you can cook," Cameron said suddenly, breaking House's attention of the breaking news story on TV. Sure, it was only covering a wild turkey that had been roaming the highway for days, but he still thought it extremely fascinating. He dropped the fork in his lap, leaving a sticky mess. His eyes took in her face, and he noticed a bit of the strawberry syrup on her lip. As much as he wanted to, he could not drag his eyes away from the spot.

"Why does it surprise you?" That damn spot. All he wanted to do was lick it away, but he decided that it might seem a little weird.

"It's just, you're so…" She let out a shaky laugh before continuing. "Macho all the time. I would've thought that cooking was beneath you." He couldn't take it anymore. He hadn't even taken in a word she had said. Leaning forward, he took her bottom lip in his mouth, gently licking away the sweet syrup. Cameron placed a hand on the side if his neck, her fingers tangling with his hair. House blindly set their plates on the coffee table and pushed Cameron to her back. He lowered himself on top of her, his body trapping hers beneath him. Her fingers raked down his chest, dipping below his jeans, and moving back towards his shoulders. One of House's hands had found a home on Cameron's stomach, moving in soft circles under the shirt. The other was busy tenderly exploring Cameron's breasts. Lazily linking her hands behind his neck, Cameron again pulled away. House opened his mouth to protest, grinding his hips against her for emphasis.

"What are you doing?" She asked. House dropped his head to the crook of her neck, kissing her there softly.

"I would've though that was obvious," he answered. His breath was hot on her skin. And suddenly, she didn't care what he was doing, or why. House had made the move, and she was not about to discourage him.

Lifting his head with her hands, Cameron got her lips pressed to his again. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, curiously finding its way around and making itself at home. Cameron tugged on his shirt, urging it off his shoulders. House pulled away so she could slide it off. Then, deciding that this was unfair to him, House looked pointedly at the shirt Cameron was still wearing. Chuckling, she pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor next to House's. He was delighted to see that he didn't have a bra to deal with also. Again capturing her mouth with his, House pressed his body close to hers, enjoying the feeling of their bare flesh mingling. She was warm against him, heat springing to life everywhere their bodies met. His hands ran smoothly down her sides, stopping at the worn panties, the only thing left to remove. Hooking his fingers under the waistband, he pulled them down, letting Cameron kick them away. Now it was Cameron who felt cheated. Sliding her hands down from their position on his shoulders, she set to work on the button and zipper of his jeans. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to help out and kick them away, she settled with pushing them as far down as she could, pooling them around his knees. House involuntarily bucked against her, a moan escaping his lips.

"Are you-"

"Shut up," Cameron breathed, cutting him off.

"Cameron."

"House."

Their eyes locked, all of the electricity between them holding them there. House finally closed his eyes, giving in to her will. Her warm hands traveled between them, closing around the length of him. Cameron smiled at the blissful expression on House's face. Taking a deep breath, she guided him in. House bit his lip, concentrating on what he was doing. Cameron closed her eyes; looking directly into the eyes of the man she loved would've been too much. He found a rhythm that brought the loudest moans from Cameron. The tiny grin playing on her lips was enough to tell him how he was doing. Her arms wrapped around him, gripping his shoulders tightly from behind. They were both close now, their bodies covered in a sheer layer of sweat, their muscles tightening. House moved faster, trying to end this thing they'd started. He felt himself letting go inside of her, Cameron shuddering beneath him. Giving a final thrust, he collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her neck. His leg was screaming, but he couldn't be bothered to find his pills.

"It was only a bit of strawberry syrup," House mumbled against her neck.