Ahhhhhh! Finally! I was really beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get this up. Sorry about the delay; I've been having troubles with my 'writing self-confidence,' so to speak. But here's this, and let me say sorry now, for the awful turn of events. Oh, and reviews would be nice (review whore).


"I don't want to," House whined the next morning. Cameron was still curled into his side, which, lately for her, was a huge accomplishment. She had braced herself against his chest, waiting for the waves of nausea to hit her. Her fingers drummed out a gentle rhythm against his chest, as she tried to mentally prepare herself for the next week. They were flying out that afternoon to Florida to see House's mother. She felt only a little anxious – more nervous at seeing House's reaction to his mother's worsening health than getting to know his family. She knew, from the way House had delicately avoided talking about their trip until the night before, that he was scared. Scared of what he would find, and how it would change him. House would pretend to be strong and unaffected, but he was going to have to deal with the fact that his mom was very sick. Cameron just wasn't sure how he was planning on dealing.

"It won't be-"

"Don't." House warned her. "Every time you say that, something goes wrong."

"Nothing went wrong yesterday," she pointed out. He took her chin in his hand, tilting her head back so he could see her face.

"How did you miss Wilson's inept ability to fall into the pond not only once, but three times, the second time managing to pull Cuddy in with him and ruining her dress?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Cameron smiled, remembering how Wilson had spent the whole of the afternoon and much of the evening fending off House's remarks and snickers.

"Ok, let me rephrase," Cameron said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Nothing went wrong for you." It may have been dark, but she could see the grin perfectly.

"That was rather entertaining…" The grin disappeared when he remembered what had started this conversation. "I still don't want to go."

"Too late," Cameron said around a yawn. She sat up, stretching her arms out in front of her. "You've already bought the tickets and the hotel room. You really gonna waste all that money?" She lifted an eyebrow at him, but knew that he had already caved. He grumbled something about manipulation – or maybe it was marsupials – and slid out of bed onto unsteady legs. Cameron lay back against his pillows, enjoying the feeling of his warmth that still clung to the sheets. With an almost-non-existent smirk, she listened to the sounds of House's morning routine – stumble into the bathroom for a shower, limp a bit more gracefully back into the room to retrieve clothes, and, now with the aid of his cane, hobble into the kitchen to make breakfast – until the thick smell of brewing coffee set her stomach spinning. She barely made it to the safety of the toilet in time, but when she leaned over and removed the hand that had prevented her from spewing on House's carpet, nothing came out. She dry heaved a few times, gripping the toilet bowl. Then her stomached cramped up, causing her to fall back on the floor. She tried not to cry out in pain; she did not need House's concern right now. The cramping was achingly familiar, and, despite everything, she prayed once more that this was something else.

When Cameron managed to get back to her feet, she pulled House's robe off the hook near the shower and pulled it tight around her. It was more for comfort than anything else. She could still hear House in the kitchen, whistling some God-awful song they'd listened to on the radio the night before. She was actually surprised that he had heard the song at all, seeing as how he had been a bit preoccupied with her breasts at the time. Cameron shook her head slightly, and padded out into the living room, stopping to stand behind his armchair.

"People are going to notice," she said, trying to act nonchalant. They had mentioned it before, but she hadn't gotten a real response out of him.

"Notice what?" House asked, coming to lean against the doorway of the kitchen. The sight of him – clad in his favorite dark and dingy jeans as well as her favorite red band t-shirt – made Cameron's heart flutter.

"That we both simultaneously took the week off." Her fingers toyed with the worn leather of the chair as she worked hard to avoid his gaze. Even from the corner of her eye, though, she could see the nearly playful scowl on his face.

"So?"

"People are going to wonder." Cameron didn't entirely care if people knew about their relationship; though the initial warnings from the nursing staff would genuinely aggravate her, it was House that she was worried about. She knew how he was about the publicity of 'them', and she thought that he had planned on hiding it for as long as possible.

"Let them wonder, then." He shrugged his shoulders, as though it were nothing, and turned back into the kitchen. He didn't give her long to be puzzled, seconds later calling from the kitchen, "And get your ass in here. You're cereal's getting cold." Cameron closed her eyes, her tongue pressing against her upper lip. It amazed and frustrated her that he was able to go from possibly the most important conversation so far in their relationship to his pointless and sarcastic banter. Though she knew that she would need more than his answer to quell the anxiousness she felt about the whole thing, Cameron decided to let it go for the time being and shuffled into the kitchen.

"I might be mistaken, but I thought that was the point of cereal." House looked up at her from where he was leaning against the counter, a spoonful of Lucky Charms halfway to his mouth. She raised her eyebrows when he remained silent, and moved beside him. House finished his own bowl seconds after, and began picking the marshmallows out of hers. When a few well-formed glares didn't suppress him, she dejectedly threw her spoon in the sink, pushing the bowl at him. "I'm going to take a shower," she said as he took a bite of her cereal. "What time is the flight?"

"Three."

Cameron nodded, smiling at the bit of milk that was dripping down his chin, and turned out of the room.

Two hours later, House and Cameron were struggling out of the apartment with two huge suitcases in tow. House had casually mentioned to Cameron that she might want to pack her little black dress, just in case. She didn't say anything to the suggestion, but when he hobbled from the bedroom, she was pretty sure the smile on her face was of a rediculous size. And she pretended not to notice when he was having trouble controlling his suitcase out to the car.

"Did you give Emily my new cell number?" House asked, his voice strained as he lifted their bags into the trunk of her car. Cameron looked around at him from where she stood by the driver's seat.

"Why?"

"I've gotten about thirteen voice messages since I got it changed last Thursday." He raised his eyebrows and gave her the 'don't even think about lying' look.

"I might've…let it slip," she said, shrugging like it was nothing. His eyes narrowed, but she just smirked and got into the car. "And get your ass moving; we're gonna miss the flight."


By their standards, the flight was fairly uneventful. House broke two of the flight attendants into tears, and had a fit when they didn't have the scotch he wanted, but other than that, he was well behaved. They got themselves checked into the hotel about an hour ahead of schedule, so Cameron suggested they get some lunch before they went over to see House's mother. Emily had flown down to Florida the week before, and, after a twelve-minute 'debate,' House talked her into letting them get a hotel room. House thought it was completely unnecessary to burden his mother with two more houseguests. Both Cameron and Emily saw through the excuse.

"I want fish," House announced as they stepped out into the sunshine. Cameron squinted in the bright light before sliding on her sunglasses.

"No, you don't."

"I just said I did." Cameron stood with her hands on her hips, looking up and down the street the hotel was on.

"You only want fish because I spent the whole flight down here telling you how I would notbe eating fish at all while we're here." She turned to face him, and House imagined he could see the playful glint in her eyes despite the glasses.

"Maybe."

Cameron rolled her eyes and took off down the street in the direction of a pizza parlor.

The little parlor seemed to be a renovated fire department, complete with the fire pole. The inside walls were painted a dark green, the ceilings rising high above them. It had a nice, comfortable feeling about it, the smell of baking pizza dough surrounding them.

"What can I get you?" a tall girl asked them after they had gotten a booth. Her black hair looked like it hadn't seen a shower in a few weeks.

"Medium. Pineapple and green peppers," Cameron said, eyeing House. They hadn't even looked at the menu. The girl walked away, leaving the two to their own devices.

"You're predictable," House said, leaning forward.

"And you're not?"

"I like to think so."

Cameron smiled, then tried her best to mask the wince as her stomach cramped up again. But, of course, House hadn't missed it.

"Are you alright?" he asked, clearly worried.

"Yeah…I'm…fine. I'm fine." A shaking hand clutched her stomach as she took deep breaths. "Just…hunger pains." House shot her a skeptical look, but she was spared any more questions by the arrival of their pizza. By that time, though, she had lost her appetite. Her insides were still clenched uncomfortably, but House had seemed to have let it go. At least until they got up to leave.

Cameron threw her napkin down on the table as she slid off the bench. She was reaching for her purse when she heard House's nervous mumblings behind her.

"What?" she asked, turning to face him. He was busy taking off his button-down shirt.

"Here," he stepped closer to her and tied the shirt around her waist. "Let's get you back to the room."

"What? Why?" She was starting to feel a little nauseous, but when he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door, she followed.

"You're bleeding."