Chapter 4! Hello all. I have a lot in store for this story. I really got on the ball, writing 3 chapters in about a day. I hope you are enjoying it so far!

*Warning for this and possibly other chapters: There is/will be mention of House's racist jokes towards Foreman. I do NOT condone that behavior. I am only going off of how House acted in the show. He made racist comments a lot. Probably once every other episode.

Also: *mention of suicide and depression.

"This is wrong." Eric Foreman stated as he picked the lock to a certain brunette's apartment.

"That's why I'm having you do it." House replied. "An experienced criminal." House often picked on Foreman for his past, making prejudiced comments.

"Yeah, yeah, because I'm Black, I must know how to break into houses." He successfully got in the apartment.

"No, because you've done it before. But, being Black helps." House's snide remarks was not unlike things Foreman had heard before.

He narrowed his eyes, not wanting to let House get to him. His racial comments were the one thing he couldn't easily shake. "Why do we have to do this, anyway. Cameron seems fine. You said it was just stress."

"It probably is. And that's why I'm here. She's been acting more emotional and irrational lately. I'm just making sure there's no unmarked pills or 'death diaries' around."

"You think Cameron's trying to kill herself?" Foreman raised one eyebrow, inquisitively.

"No, but if she's depressed or thinking about it, I want to stop her before she throws herself off the balcony." House lifted up books from the table, checking for personal items. He wandered off to her bedroom. It was so Cameron- A picture of a tall, dark haired man standing next to a small, brunette woman. She looked adorable, House had to admit it. She was smiling, her hair was up in a pony tail, and her front bangs parted to the side. She must have been 21 then. That was when her previous husband had died. She didn't look hurt or damaged. The smile was purely joy. She had loved him. On her nightstand, there was soapy romance book. Not something House thought Cameron would read. Maybe something Cuddy would find pleasure in reading, but not Allison. Her room was pretty simple and tidy. Nothing was laying out. House strode over to Cameron's dresser. He looked up when Foreman walked in. When he gave him a warning look, House pleaded, "Come on, you must want to know what her underwear looks like!"

"I don't really care, House. I'm not like you."

"Oh suuuuuure. You're so chaste, Foreman. We sexaholics worship you." House mockingly waved his arms up and down, pretending to bow.

"Just focus on the task. I don't like being here."

House opened the top drawer and Foreman rolled his eyes.

"I need to look anyway, should be hiding a journal or something." House rummaged through Cameron's things. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy looking at her lace panties. "Gee whiz, Foreman. You gotta see this!"

"You find something?" Foreman reached for a plastic container and gloves.

House held out one of Cameron's black thongs.

Realizing he had been tricked, he rolled his eyes. "You're unbelievable."

House put the thong back and continued to search the house. They didn't find anything that suggested Cameron was suffering with depression. They began to head out before House remembered something. About two weeks ago, he and Cameron were talking about safes.

"I think it's a sad shame that you think people need to hide belongings in safes. You'd think a lock on a door would be good enough to keep people away." Cameron stared at House.

"You are your great regard for human nature. You need to come back to the real world." House explained to innocent young doctor.

"I just think that people are genuinely good."

"Yeah, I know you do. That is what makes me think you should get a safe."

"I'm not as cynical as you, House. I don't need to lock all of my personal things away in some secret spot in my closet." Cameron scoffed and walked away.

"And, here it is," House located a safe that was pushed to the very back of Cameron's closet. "I knew it." House put his ear to the safe and began turning the knob.

Foreman stared at him, arms crossed.

"Party trick. Learned it in college. It's how I paid my way through Johns Hopkins." His sarcastic remark didn't humor Foreman.

"Well, would you look at this? A journal."

"Don't read it, House."

House looked at Foreman with that childish, 'Oh-come-on!' look. "I think it's entirely necessary that I read it." He opened the pages of the light grey journal. "Ohh, spicy!"

"This is so sickening."

"Oh, get over yourself. It's a recipe book," House showed him. "See, Pad Thai."

"Why does Cameron have a recipe book in her safe?" Foreman asked.

"Maybe she's embarrassed that she's a woman and can't cook. Doesn't want anyone to see her learning." House quipped.

Foreman checked his watch. "Oh shoot, we need to go. It's 5:25, Cameron will be home from Pilates any time."

House was engrossed in the cookbook. He didn't understand why Cameron would prize something as trivial as a cookbook. He flipped through the pages when he found the reason. Tucked in between the latter pages, were several pieces of loose-leaf notebook paper. He scanned them. One in particular caught his eye. His attention was quickly averted when he heard rustling at the door.

"Damn it!" Foreman looked around.

House quickly stuffed the paper in his jacket and threw the cookbook back in safe, slamming the door.

Cameron entered the house, putting her car keys and purse on the end table. She headed towards her room, ready to change out of her sweaty clothes.

House and Foreman were in the bathroom; it was an extension of her bedroom. They were hiding in the bathtub. They could here her footsteps as she got closer to the bathroom. They were sure they would get caught, before Cameron said aloud, "Shit." She dropped her things on the bed and rushed back outside. She had forgotten something in her car. When they heard the door close, signaling that Cameron had left the apartment, they stepped out of the bathtub.

"I never want to be that close to you again." Foreman stated, blatantly.

"What? You didn't like it as much as I did? I thought it was kinda sweet," House joked, winking at the end of his sentence. "Why don't you like me anymore, honey?"

Foreman couldn't even control the urge to roll his eyes. "Let's get out of here."

The following Monday, House and Foreman sat in House's office, waiting for Cameron and Chase to arrive.

Cameron walked in late, looking disheveled.

"Why are you late?" House asked.

Cameron took a deep breath. "I think someone broke into my house."

House and Foreman shared a glance, hoping the brunette didn't notice. "Why do you think that?"

"Because my clothes were messed up. And, there were shoe marks in the bathtub."

"How do you know you didn't do that?" House asked, his voice slightly wavering.

"I don't leave dirt and mess around. I'm not like you, leaving your clothes all over the place. I fold them every time I put them in there. I'd know if I messed it up."

House simply nodded.

"I'm just glad my cat wasn't there. Whoever broke in may have hurt her."

"Did they take anything?" House asked.

Cameron thought his question was odd. His wording made it as if he knew more than he was leading on. "No, I don't think so."

House realized his mistake in asking that. He tried to move subjects. He lifted his bad leg on the couch, sat on the edge, and leaned towards the white board. "Well, that's good. Anyway, a woman, 22 years old with-"

"Wait a second. What's that?" Cameron noticed a piece of paper that was sticking out of House's jacket. She would not have been able to see it if it wasn't for the position House was sitting in.

"Just a little romantic note I wrote for one of the nurses." He hoped he had abated Cameron's curiosity.

She could see the little turtle sticker at the very top, oddly similar to the note she kept in her cookbook. "That paper- let me see it." Her heart began racing.

House moved away from her. "You don't wanna see this. Very private. Erotic, even."

"Give it to me," Cameron got closer and snatched it from his pocket. "How did get this?" Then, it hit her. "No." She shook her head. "You didn't. You wouldn't."

House looked up to the ceiling. "Ruh-Roh."

"You broke into my house?"

House tried to make a joke, "Well, technically Foreman was the one who broke in. I just tagged along."

Foreman stood up. "Hey, it was your idea. You dragged me there!"

"You didn't have to come if-"

"Stop!" Dr. Cameron shouted. "This is pretty low, House. Even for you. Even despite all that you have done to me this week."

"I was just making sure you weren't hiding anything." House said, defensively.

"Like what? A gun?"

"No. Like pills or a suicide diary."

Cameron tilted her head. "Why would I have that?"

"Can you two leave?" House shooed the two men away.

Now that they were alone, Cameron placed her hands on her hips. "There's no reason for you to do what you have done. I'm gonna tell Cuddy."

House stopped her. "I was worried about you. You've been acting different since that patient hurt you. I didn't want you to do something you would regret."

"I wouldn't kill myself, House. I haven't even thought about that since high school."

House was a bit taken aback. "You've thought about it?" He knew he was stepping into restricted territory.

"Yeah, I have."

He was surprised that she so easily told him.

"I was 15, my boyfriend left me, my sister had just died, and I didn't want to live anymore." She admitted. "It was just a stupid teenage thing. I was young. I didn't even attempt anything, I just stared at a bottle of pills for an hour. I didn't really want to kill myself. I wouldn't have." Cameron wrapped her hair behind her ears. "I'm telling you, House. I am okay."

House believed her. She wasn't crying, she looked okay. He knew she wouldn't be able to hold it in well if we was suffering. She showed her true emotions. He could always see them."I'm sorry I broke into your house."

Cameron bit her bottom lip and asked, "Did you read it?"

House was so transfixed in the conversation that he had lost track of anything that happened prior. "What?"

"The paper from my cookbook."

House hesitated, looked down at the floor and then back up at her, and answered, "No."

Cameron felt herself sigh in relief. "Do you swear?"

"Occasionally, but only when I'm really angry."

Allison laughed slightly. "I'm serious."

House nodded. "I swear, I didn't read it, Allison."

She smiled and walked out, clutching the paper in her hand.

Now, House really wanted to know what in the hell that paper had written on it.