Disclaimer: DOH
"How much do you think I can get if I rent them out?"
Cameron smiles as she stretches slightly to place a short stack of plates into a cupboard.
"Depends. You'd make more if you could get them to stop muttering about how they should be working on a case when they think we're not around."
House rounds the kitchen counter to lean on the refrigerator and watch her back. She grabs a few bowls from the counter, the heels of her feet slightly shift upwards, her left hand braces herself on the counter, and the other puts the bowls on the shelf. Arching her neck, she takes a step backwards and he assumes it's to put more space between her belly and the wood.
"I'll get Cuddy to give them some of my clinic hours." He limps forward to stand beside her as she begins to pull cups out of a cardboard box. "Which, by the way, suck."
"Hey," her shoulder brushes against his as she sits a cup in the cupboard, "it's not my fault Cuddy gave you more hours."
Scrunching his face together, he snatches the paper off a cup. "Days, Cameron. Days!"
"It's not like you're actually going to do them anyways so quit crying about it."
"No, Foreman has a key. To my apartment. I don't even know how the hell he got it. And! Cuddy's giving him a dollar for every hour I do so he's on my ass like…sexy on Beyonce."
She scoffs, gathering the crumpled newspaper into a pile.
"I hardly feel any sympathy for you."
"Of course you do."
"No," she waddles softly to the trashcan, "you abandoned my child and me."
"Right, throw that in my face."
Opening her freezer, she tries not to smile. It's nice that she can finally do this, joke about it. That's progress, isn't it?
"Well," she pulls out an ice cream bar and begins to unwrap it. "It's the truth."
Leaning against the counter, he blows out a breath.
"I blame it on the cable."
"Cable?"
"Yeah," House frowns. "Whenever they cut my cable and you 'resigned' from the budget committee."
"Ahh, I remember."
Cameron walks toward him, drawn to him without realizing it. "It seems like a lifetime ago."
He eyes the ice cream so he won't have to look at her. "I think it was. That looks delicious."
"Get your own!"
She steps to his left, pulling her ice cream away from his close reach as she rests against the cool counter.
"My leg hurts. Come on."
"No!"
The warning doesn't stop him from reaching over again and getting his hand slapped.
"Ow!"
"I told you – ugghhh."
"What?"
Immediately, he's straightened, eyes focused on the frown on her face and the tightness of the muscles around her mouth as she brings her hand over her pregnant abdomen.
"Cameron?" His heart begins to race. "Cameron?"
"It's nothing," she says, irritation in her voice as she drops her hand.
"You sure?"
Realizing he's standing in action mode, she waves the hand with the ice cream in dismissal.
"The person inside me decided to play a good game of kickball just now. And…again."
There's something strange about his curiosity to feel the beat of feet underneath his palm. He shakes the thought away, not quickly enough however.
Hesitating, mostly because she's been known to hope too much, she waits for him to look away from her stomach, but he doesn't.
"Do you…want to feel it?"
That catches his attention and she almost wishes he'd kept looking down instead of directly at her.
"Do you…want me to?"
"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to."
It's such a Cameron answer and he what he wants to do is roll his eyes, except he knows by now she won't chance being burned by him again. Which, is a good thing considering his track record, which is, in itself, a sad thing.
"I – ."
"These are the last boxes! Where do you want us to put them?"
Expelling a loud breath, House grabs his cane. "Kids."
"Kids," Cameron agrees while nodding her head before following him to the commons area, relieved at the interruption and betting he is too.
"They say yellow is the safe color."
Cameron turns around at his voice to see him watching her from the doorway of what she's deemed the baby room.
"I'm more concerned about the lack of necessities than paint."
There's a crib, finally assembled by Kutner earlier, a bassinet from a coworker, a changing station brought from her brother, and one of those swing things he saw once on a funniest video show.
"Isn't that why you have baby showers?"
She walks slowly to the crib and trails her fingers over it.
"I haven't had one."
Against his better judgment, House limps into the room to stand in front of her and hooks his cane over the top rail beside her fingers.
"You're going to have to get over this, Cameron."
"I'm trying."
"Six days."
"I know that," she snaps. "What makes you think I don't know that? Do you think I want to be like this? Because I don't! I've tried, and I've tried, but I can only do so much at a time."
"I know."
When she slightly jerks back in surprise, he sighs.
"I have no doubt that the moment you hold the slimy thing in your arms, you'll be on top of everything. I just think you should be thinking the same thing."
Bringing a hand softly to her face, she closes her eyes.
"It's just…very hard considering what's happened."
"If you can make it working for me for three years, then you can do this."
Lightly, Cameron chuckles and shakes her head when she sees his light frown.
"Words of inspiration from Gregory House."
"I'm a fountain of icky niceness."
He reaches forward to grab his cane at the same time she leans more to the crib to straighten the pad inside. The tips of his fingers graze her extended belly and they halt in their movements simultaneously. He starts to second guess his reasons for being here. Her mind starts to race about the possible outcomes. They both look to the other to find an answer or acceptable next action.
Shaking, her hands find the fingers barely touching her stomach. If he's going to leave her again, she wants to know what this feels like just once. Gently, she covers his hand with hers and adds pressure until his palm is flat against her skin and the warmth begins to transfer to her body. For a woman who can barely touch her own abdomen, she desperately wants him to feel it.
Like a statue, he nearly holds his breath after she releases his hand. He frowns, concentrating on what he thinks he should feel and the fear beginning to bubble up. There's a subtle thump and his frown deepens before he pulls his hand away and looks directly at Cameron.
"I'm sorry I – ."
He leans down and captures her neck before she can pull away. His lips are tasting hers by the time her brain catches up with her senses and he feels her try to push him away.
He's been here before. His memories tell him so. But God, they're nothing compared to this. She's so much warmer, full of tension and doubt, denial and fear, and it all makes him want to drink it in.
She parts her lips, by now pulling him closer to her with hands gripping his t-shirt. He nearly groans when he slides his tongue into her wet mouth and she softly sucks on it.
His hands, which used to be able to fit around her, settle for her shoulders and she finds herself missing the total encompassing feel of him. Opening her mouth wider she darts her tongue into his mouth, thinking of how long it's been since she's kissed him, since she's felt anything like this.
It hasn't changed. It feels exactly the same way it did six months ago.
And that's what makes her lose her breath as she squeaks against his mouth. Cameron lowers her head, slightly dodging his attempt to keep his lips locked with hers, and forces herself away by the hands on his chest.
"No, no, no, House."
"Cameron."
He's breathy and she has to shake her head. "No. No, no, not again."
Nearly on the edge of tears that have come from nowhere, she breaks the grip he has on her shoulders and backs away until she's in the center of the lonely room with a hand covering her mouth.
"You should go."
Swallowing, he grabs his cane but makes no other move to follow her orders.
"Go, House!"
He walks away, hearing the insistence in her voice and knowing he's as caught up as she is in this thing. They've both got things to think about, except now he's one step ahead of her. He already knows exactly what he wants.