A/N: I'm working on my descriptive abilities. This is also another one that snuck up on me at work. Maybe I should take the picture of Hugh down to corral my naughty mind….nah. Please review!

GHMDGHMDGHMD

She sat in Pathology, nonchalantly atop a stool with her back to the door. She absently swiveled back and forth as she made notes on the chart in front of her before turning her attention back to the specimen under the microscope. Her ears were perked, waiting, waiting…

And then she heard his familiar shuffle; the muted thump of his cane on the floor as he slowly and delicately opened the door and slipped inside. She felt her body start to tingle, the hairs on the nape of her neck stood up in defiance of her long tresses that were pulled tight into a bun that day.

The tips of his fingers were cool there, whispering across, up and down her neck until finally she pulled her glasses off and set them down on top of the chart. She closed her eyes as his hand paused on her shoulder, only to resume exploring her skin by wrapping lightly around her throat, up over her chin, across soft lips. She was tempted to open her mouth, to nibble at his fingertips, but she knew better.

He liked to be in charge, and she was fine with that, because in her secret heart, she enjoyed being taken. Until this…whatever this was with House, she had always dated men who needed her to be the one, needed her to take them over. And with her husband, now nearly nine years gone, he had been so sick that all they'd shared were the delicate encounters of a dying love.

She took a deep breath as his hands roamed. After all this time, he was still so careful, so gentle, as if he was afraid that she would break like a thin glass ornament. They had had many long conversations lasting well into the night, both at his apartment and her own, and she had slowly learned of the man he truly was, under all the layers of sarcasm and pain. She held this knowledge of him close to her heart; she knew that the fact he'd decided to share himself with her after he'd been through certain things in his life was a big deal. She protected his privacy with the ferocity of any good soldier protecting his or her country.

Finally she clasped his hands together over her heart and reached up with one hand to graze the stubble across his cheek. She awkwardly maneuvered herself off the stool, turning, and led him silently down the hall to the elevator. Once there, she started a deep and aching kiss, pulling herself away from him at just the right moment. She had learned to time the elevator, something he smirked at every time.

They hurried through the downpour that had been going on outside, only to have to soak themselves climbing atop his bike. Without words, he handed her the small red helmet while he donned the larger black one. He loved the way her hair frizzed ever so slightly in the rain and was sorry to see it hidden by the helmet. He turned his attention back to the road and revved the engine, quickly putting away his cane and proceeding to speed off in the direction of his apartment.

After shedding jackets and closing the door, they linked hands again, Cameron placing his arms around her and letting go to caress his face once more. He smiled, she smiled. Despite their age difference, despite his limp, despite everything that made them imperfect, made them human, they created the perfect moment there, in his living room, dripping with rain and fire at the same time.

He surprised her by letting go of his cane, shifting all his weight onto his left leg, and hoisting her up into his arms. He had been working out his already strong forearms, doing pull-ups in the doorway of the spare bedroom after she had gone home, just to be able to carry her this way. He could only carry her a few steps, and he took those steps to the couch, laying her there. She looked up at him, her eyes full of trust as she welcomed his kiss again, his hands, and his warmth into her own.

She kissed his eyelids as he made love to her, dancing her fingertips across the length of his back. The rain outside pounded harder, in time with her heartbeat, until she thought for sure she would explode. She moved her body into his rhythm, breathing deeply until finally he spoke.

'Cameron,' he whispered deeply, 'Allison…marry me.'

And then she woke up in her own bed, the dream haunting her for the seventh straight night. She wept a single tear as the rain continued to fall.