A/N: Hellohello! Hope you like this chapter! It's got some smut...not too much but a little. And I can't believe I broke my 1000 word limit...I can't wait for the next chap though!

Disclaimer: DOH

Oh, and someone before asked how long House was in the coma. It was 3 months.

"God, House," she whispers, tired of him seducing her all night with not hostile words and one cooked meal. She'd been ready to jump him since she'd caught him dropping some spaghetti sauce on his pant leg.

Her hands move to the button on his jeans, quickly undoing it and sliding her fingers to the zipper, only to be thwarted by his own hands capturing hers in a near vice between their hips. Looking into his now dark eyes, she frowns.

Taking in a harsh breath, he shakes his head. "Only two weeks and you're jumping my old bones? Naughty Cameron."

She leans forward to kiss him, catching his lower lip and softly biting it before pulling back. "I've known you for four years. We can skip the getting to know you part."

His hands release hers to slip between the thin fabric of her white lace boy-short panties on either side of her hips. He watches her eyelids drop even more in anticipation as his hands toy with the fabric and eventually delve underneath the lace to fully cup her buttocks. God, she's so young.

Without thinking, her hands move to the front of his jeans again, this time unzipping his zipper fully. Again, he stops her, though not nearly gentle.

Forcing her hands behind her as she gasps, he fights the all powerful urge to rip his clothes off and push himself into her no doubt, tight, warm, wet, core. He leans forward, forcing her to lean back and arch her back. It's a precarious position he knows, but he's pretty sure he'll be able to fight through the pain if she slips.

His lips catch her neck, faintly tasting oranges and grapefruit. He makes his way to her right collarbone before dragging his tongue down to the beginning swell of her small breast. Drawing her nipple into his mouth, he begins to feel her body quiver underneath the strain of keeping her weight off his leg.

Pulling themselves back slowly, he releases her hands which immediately travel to his jeans again. He tries to pull them away but her fingers are hooked in his belt loops, and she's not taking no for an answer.

"You can't hide that you want me, House," she whispers as she pulls on his loops to bring him forward and pushes herself harder onto him. His hardness between her legs, so pefect and manly, makes her moan as she kisses him forcefully, her tongue swallowing his soft groan as she begins to rock against him. When she feels his grip loosen around her wrists, she slips her fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

"Stop," he hoarsely mutters, pulling her so close to him she can hardly breathe.

Breathless, she pauses. "What's wrong?"

Swallowing, he averts his eyes from hers to the blank television.

"House," she sighs. "Don't do this. We're so close."

"It's a mistake."

She leans back, forcing him to look at her. "No. No." She reinforces, moving her arms behind her back to try to pry his hands away.

Her fingers pause in their wrangling. "This is about your leg, isn't it?"

"No. It's about you."

"Liar," she breathes. "House, it's just a scar."

"I'm pretty sure I know that."

"I don't care what it looks like."

He stares at her. Of course she'll care. The moment she sees it, the amazing lust sex turns into amazing pity sex. He hates pity.

"Get off."

She catches his face, refusing to lose him now when she's so close. "I like you."

His mouth opens but she covers his lips with her right hand.

"You're the strongest person I know. People talk about you when you're not around and you don't give a damn. People praise you when you save them...and still you don't give a damn. Whenever you're wrong about a diagnosis, you shrug it off and try something different. You're in pain every single day, and you still go to work and save somebody."

She lets her left hand go to his brow, softly stroking it and not missing the way his eyelids just barely shift downwards.

"You're rude, obnoxious, ill-mannered, grumpy, sarcastic, pop I don't know how many Vicodin a day, and you always think you're right. And I could do without those things, but then it wouldn't be you. And as much as I hate it, I like that you're someone everyone hates. I've always cared about people and being around you lets me experience the other side I've never been able to understand.

"You're wounded. I can't help you. Then again, you don't want help, do you? I don't care about your leg. I care about you. Even after the hell you put me through, I care."

When he says nothing, she drops her hands from his face and begins to get off of his lap. He stops her with his hands on her thighs.

"The sofa isn't for beginners."

He shoves six more skittles into his mouth as he watches from a safe distance of the doors leading out of the E.R. into wild New Jersey. His mind is slowly putting the pieces together. She couldn't take him ignoring her and belittling her when they weren't alone. The breaking point had been when she'd asked him to take her to the airport since she was going to see her brother, and he balked, making her miss her flight. Or so she'd told him just three days ago in the clinic.

"Dr. Evans is on call this weekend, Cara!"

At the sound of her voice, he pulls himself closer to the wall of the hallway. He sees her blonde hair blowing across her shoulders and her hands bracing her back in a position he's becoming all too familiar with. The exit doors slide open and she doesn't look back.

Breathing, he shoves another six skittles into his mouth. She'd slept with TB guy just one month after they'd broken up. She'd said TB guy had made her feel like she was worth it, plus he was House's mortal enemy. Her rebound TB guy had been perfect. Her rebound night had been blissful. Her rebound consequence had been a child.

A/N: So hopefully it's clearer that Cameron told House she'd ended things because she couldn't hack being with him. TB guy came around and made her feel like a prized doll. She slept with him since he was the perfect rebound guy. 'Or so she'd told him three days ago in the clinic.'