A/N: So here it is, a new chapter! I hope you guys like it; as always, I'm unsure of how well it flows, whether it's too fluffy, etc, etc. So, you be the judge, and please review!
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The following Monday, they resumed work on their current case. "Melinda Anderson, age twenty-four. Symptoms include chest pain, headaches, sensitivity to light, and muscle tightness. Differential diagnosis." House shot a quick but intense glance at Cameron as they began.
After a few minutes of throwing out ideas, House sent his doctors off to run tests and get a patient history. He retreated to his office, where he fiddled with the computer a bit before he began going through a stack of files that Cuddy had left on his desk for one reason or another. Nothing like personal frustration to inspire a good work ethic.
After a few moments, he heard the door glide open. "I thought you were supposed to be in the lab," he said sharply, not looking up from the file.
Cameron casually slid her hands into her pockets and spoke. "I…needed to talk to you," her voice was thick with guilt.
"Well, right now you need to be in the lab." House looked at her, his eyes dancing across her sullen face. Even after what had happened Friday night, he had to fight the growing urge to comfort her right then and there. She had been treating him somewhat the way he'd treated her in the past, though, and he knew he deserved it. He lightened his tone. "If you want to talk…let's talk. But not here. Let's…get dinner. Someplace with outdoor dining. Surprise me." He smirked a little, in spite of his hurt, and felt a little better when that made her smile.
"Okay." She nodded and headed back to the lab.
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After suggesting that they take her car, Cameron drove House to the Blue Point Grill. The ride was silent, save for some light jazz murmuring from the radio. They quietly got an outside table and sat down, again without a word between the two of them. Cameron smiled, however, when House ordered the calamari; she knew he hated it with a passion, but she loved it. They each ordered their entrees and were left to each other. Cameron felt warm in spite of the evening chill.
"So…" House started, for once in his life not quite knowing what to say. "Did it fit?"
"Huh?" He'd pulled her out of her own thoughts. "Oh! Yeah…it fits…perfectly." Her voice was soft as she tried not to let it waver. She tapped her foot nervously on the ground and finally flopped her menu down on the table. "House, I…"
"Cameron…" They had, of course, spoken in unison. "Go ahead," he said.
She closed her eyes and sighed lightly. "I…need time." She nodded as if she were trying to convince herself rather than House. "Before…before our first date," she looked up and tried to think of the right words. "Wilson came to me and wanted to make sure I didn't break your heart." House looked away for a moment. "And…" she took in a deep breath, "then you said…what you said. And later I said I hated you, and I did, for a while, and…" She bit her bottom lip, trying frantically to keep the tears from spilling over. I'm thirty years old, dammit! I should be able to talk to him and NOT cry!
Just then, the waiter arrived with the calamari and their drinks, perfect timing of course. She stopped to take a sip of her drink. "Why don't we get out of here? Just…get this to go, and we'll drive somewhere. Anywhere." Her eyes pleaded with him, for understanding, trust, and truth. House simply nodded and signaled the waiter back to their table.
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Cameron headed out of the city, driving just a little too fast as if she were trying to outrun her own thoughts. She turned south onto 206 outside Trenton.
"Are you trying to make us late for work in the morning?" House asked jokingly.
"Yes." Her mouth was set firm. "Yes I am." She flipped on the radio to a classic rock station and kept on. House stared out the window and watched the scenery roll by. He left Cameron to her thoughts for the drive; God knew he'd taken long enough to realize how he felt about her.
Before he knew it, they'd ended up in Cape May. He smiled to himself; if there was one thing they did have in common, it was that they both knew how to take a road trip. Cameron turned into the same park he'd visited two days before. She didn't say a word as she turned off the car, just slammed the door and walked purposefully out to the pier, knowing well enough that he would follow.
As he headed towards her, she turned to face him. There was fire in her eyes to match the stone he'd given her around her neck. "Why do you like me?" She yelled into the wind. "Why now? You were right, you know. I need." A single tear traced a path down her left cheek as he gathered her into him. They stood like that for a moment, the both of them buried in his overcoat. Cameron's arms slipped around him and grabbed hold.
"You love," he replied to her question. "That's why."
She took a step back to look him in the eye. "House, you're not any more damaged than I am. I've…used people, I've obsessed, pined, whatever you want to call it. I have trust issues. I'm not perfect."
"I never thought you were," he said with a smirk. "But you're a damn good doctor. You're beautiful…and…you saved my life that day. In more ways than one." He searched her eyes for a moment before he kissed her. This time, she didn't kick him out.
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Against her heart's will, she drove House back to his apartment. The drive had once again been silent save for the radio, although she had slipped her right hand into House's left at some point. She'd decided for sure that this was what she wanted, whether it lasted or not, there was no turning back. She was finally comfortable with him, and she could see for sure the changes that his most recent near-death experience had made.
When she pulled up to his building, she put the car in park and smiled as House tugged at her hand, pulling her into another kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said simply.
"Yeah." Her voice was like velvet. "Don't be late," she added with a smirk.
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The rest of the week kept the team busy trying to diagnose their current patient, while Cuddy chased House down about clinic duty as she'd always done; House hadn't changed completely, after all. He kept a respectable distance from Cameron, allowing her to let herself move closer into his world at her own pace. They had dinner every night that week though, always ending with at least one kiss goodnight and each of them to their own beds.
Thursday afternoon brought their final diagnosis: Glanders. There hadn't been a naturally occurring case in the United States since the 1940's, so when their patient finally confessed to having spent a secret and extended vacation in South America, House hadn't been surprised at all.
"Saturday night," Foreman said, his eyebrowsraised as he got ready to head home. "You got your costume ready, Chase?"
"Yep," Chase answered with an evil grin. "And I'll bet you fifty bucks I win the contest."
Foreman frowned, wondering just what Chase was up to. "Make it one hundred and you're on."
"What, you think you'll win?" Chase asked innocently.
"No, I just don't think you will," Foreman smirked. "One hundred it is then?" They shook on it as they headed out the door. Cameron came back in from the clinic a few moments later. She gathered her things, deciding to leave paperwork for the morning and pushed through to House's office. "Want to get a drink tonight?" He was neatly stacking patient charts still needing to be notated in a criss-cross pattern on his desk, trying to see how high he could get the stack before it fell over.
"No way, I'm having too much fun doing paperwork." Cameron smiled as he looked up. "Yeah, my ride or yours?"
Cameron thought for a moment, or at least pretended to. Her smile widened. "I'm in the mood for a bike ride, I suppose. Yankee Doodle Tap Room again?"
"What are we waiting for?"
