Cameron smiled at the nurses who were enjoying the morning sun on the way in. They exchanged morning greetings, and all were on they're way to begin another day. People she hardly knew smiled at her as she walked to the office, and she returned each one with as sincere a smile as she could muster. The muscles in her cheeks implored her to stop and return to a natural position, but she ignored them and continued on her way looking like the cheerful Cameron everyone knew and loved. At that thought she struggled to hide the mirthless laugh that was bubbling up from her dark centre, threatening to spill out and overwhelm her.

Know me, love me.

The diagnostics office was mercifully empty when she arrived, and she set about her usual routine with the mail and the coffee. It was this routine that numbed her- for a short time she was in control of her own private fiefdom. Her brown leather gloves grazed the stack of paper on the desk; all these people hoping, wishing for a miracle. A year ago she would have cared, pressed House to take the dying child or the lonely woman. Not now. Today she opened the letters and scanned them for the most obscure symptoms, ones the team would enjoy. More importantly ones that meant non-stop work all hours of the day; if she didn't have time to herself then she didn't have time to feel. Once this case was over then she would have to go home to the bleak emptiness that was her life; no amount of decoration and light could lift the dark shadows that descended around her as she stepped out of the hospital. This is my life now.

It was Foreman who arrived first today, and for this she was grateful- Chase would have tried to make conversation, whereas Foreman would not think to initiate any kind of discussion. It was sad in a way. Foreman had often acted as a protector, feeling the need to defend her from House. Apparently that was not a sign of him looking out for her but instead looking out for himself. Keeping friends close but enemies closer. His words had stung her deep to the core a few months ago, but now they were just floating around in her mind- no emotions stirred up by the thought of them

"Ten years from now, we're not gonna be hanging out, having dinners. Maybe we'll exchange Christmas cards, say "Hi," give a hug if we're at the same conference...we're not friends, we're colleagues...and I don't have anything to apologize for."

It didn't matter. She had gained her revenge by getting her article published in a better journal and he knew it; everyone did. She swore Cuddy winked at her when she returned- in any case revenge was her idea. The only unfortunate thing was that she didn't feel any pleasure in knowing she had done so and also didn't feel any regret, and so it seemed wasted on her. She shook the thoughts off, returning her attention to the mail.

House limped in just as the coffee brewed; it was almost as if he had a sixth sense when it came to food and caffeine. He poured it and cast his eyes over his two present employees narrowing his eyes when he realised that it was Chase who had "car trouble" today, he would make him pay for it later. In the meantime he could observe the other two as they carried on with what they were doing. He didn't fail to notice the fact that Cameron was still wearing her gloves. Such an anomaly peaked his curiosity- it was pleasant outside and warm in here.

"Cold, Doctor Cameron?" His tone held his typical morning sarcasm, he hadn't been forced to do clinic duty yet so his mood was stable. Cameron turned her face to him but kept her eyes trained on the mail in front of her.

"No" House still hadn't got used to this flat tone that she had developed, along with the fact she no longer looked terrified when he picked on her so early in the morning.

"You're still wearing your gloves" His tone was matter of fact, gauging her emotional state, pressing buttons gently to see if they would give.

"Yes I am" Again her voice was neutral. Disinterested. She continued. "Wilson is going to do get the results of Mrs Braiths biopsy this morning, so I told Cuddy I would help out in the clinic until he was done. I should be going now."

She stood up and headed for the door, not waiting for permission. She turned at the threshold

"Can you remind Wilson to page me" With that she was gone, brushing past the tardy Chase by the doorway. House decided he wasn't in the mood for belittling Chase about being late- he had a puzzle to solve with half the pieces missing.

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Cameron had nearly half an hour before her first patient arrived, so she entered a clinic room searching for the things she needed in the cupboards and laying them out on the trolley. Sutures, wipes, gauze, dressing, pre threaded needle, anaesthetic… She had stupidly injured her right hand, which meant stitching up the cuts with her left. This could be interesting. She removed her glove, noting with distaste the blood soaked dressing she had hastily applied last night. The cuts were deep, and her simple steri-strips alone wouldn't hold them together. Pulling the trolley to her she brought it between her legs and rested her hand on the table. She winced as she cleaned the hand and clumsily injected anaesthetic into the cuts, waiting for it to take effect.

As she picked up the needle and lowered it to her skin there was a knock on the door, causing her to jab her skin in shock. She muttered a curse, hoping the invader would take the hint and go away. There was no second knock and Cameron let out the breath she had unconsciously once again concentrating on the matter at hand.

She concentrated on keeping her hand steady as she made the first cross-stitch; it wasn't as tidy as she could have done with her right hand but she had little choice.

The knock sounded again and she froze as the door opened.