FINALLY!!!!!!!!!! MANY THANKS GOES TO CAUSTIC CHICK for instructions on posting since FanFic has been funky this whole week.

I'm taking this fic 'outside the box' a little bit. But it won't be out of character (I hope) but just really, really dramatic, and I hope somewhat realistic.

NOTE: If you are confused with a particular chapter, it will be explained further. Just have patience and keep reading.

Ok, enjoy

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The man lurked behind the building across the street from Baker Street watching the entrance to 221. It was 7:30 a.m. on a Friday and he'd driven the entire night from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, stopping only for gas or to pee. He knew she was there.

Her parents confirmed her whereabouts when he visited them. He'd never met her parents or talked to them on the phone so it was a piece of cake to get the information. He said he was an old friend from high school, and lied, saying he'd flown in from California to see her. They gave him the information within five minutes. Easy prey he thought.

He didn't want to let them off so easily, though. He didn't want any witnesses to identify him so the authorities could track him down. But the woman reminded him of his own mother and decided against it. Besides, he didn't want her parents, he wanted her.

He was on his way to Princeton, New Jersey. For her.

Inside 221 Baker Street, apartment B, House was just waking up from a restful night's sleep. His mind woke up much faster than his body did. The warmth he gradually felt in his arms was unfamiliar and strange, yet comfortable. He was soon aware that his right arm was around a body, his left arm under his head, his right leg was over another, a leg over his, and hair tickled his bearded chin.

He opened one eye, and when he saw brown hair, opened the other. He was holding Cameron, on the couch, in his living room. He remembered falling asleep the night before, when her head was on his right thigh. But how in the hell did they end up in the 'spooning' position?

He lifted his head and moved his right arm slowly as to not waken her, thinking he could sneak out from behind her. No such luck. She stirred in her sleep and woke up. She yawned then slowly turned her head to look into his face.

"Good morning, babe," she whispered then smiled.

"Uh, howdy," he answered nervously.

"Oh, that is so romantic," she teased.

Their bodies slowly untangled and Cameron sat up, stretching her body as she did so. House did the same and they sat together, extremely close to one another. He was speechless. He didn't quite know what to say, which was very unusual for him. His snarkiness was a defense mechanism when he felt backed into a corner, as he was now.

But this wasn't such a bad corner to be in he thought.

"How, um, I don't remember…"

She looked at him confused then it dawned on her what he was talking about. "Oh, yeah. Well, I had to pee in the middle of the night so I did. When I got back, you had stretched out on the sofa and I didn't want to get into a cold bed. I just, uh, slipped into you. You stirred but didn't wake up. I just wrapped around you like a favorite blanket."

"Oh, thanks. I've never been compared to a blanket before."

"Were you okay with it? Sometimes I can't tell if you've gotten used to me or not," she said with a laugh.

House didn't answer her but stood up quickly, rather too quickly. Thoughts he'd had the night before played back in his head and he tried to dismiss them. He couldn't. He had to get away. Run away, like he always did.

"Cameron, I have to go to the office. You'll be okay here by yourself. I should be back by noon," he told her.

House ran to the bathroom, closed the door a little harder than he had to which resulted in a loud 'bang.' It made Cameron jump. She went into the bedroom and waited for him to finish his shower so they could talk. She needed to get some things straight with him. She felt as if things had taken a wrong turn and she didn't like it.

He finally got out of the shower but she had fallen asleep on the bed. When he saw her sleeping so peacefully he stopped in his tracks. His heart skipped a beat from how beautiful she looked.

Must…fight…the…feeling…go to work.

His head won that argument - all he could do was cover her up; his heart had the last word, though – he reached out and ever so gently ran the back of his fingers over her soft, warm cheek. He walked away from her, grabbed his cane, but took one last look at her before he left the bedroom.

It was getting easier; she was slowly winning him over. But she had falsely – though from no fault of her own – created a relationship with him, but he hadn't with her.

Life sucks he thought as he stepped out on the sidewalk. He took a deep breath; the cool, early spring air revived him and he could actually think straight. But life still sucked.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Across the street, the man watched House descend the stairs and walk to his bike, get on it and ride off. He was now ready to do what he had to do. He walked out onto the sidewalk, crossed the street and approached the building…

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

The cab pulled up in front of Princeton Plainsboro Hospital and put the car in park. The driver got out, got his passenger's one medium-sized suitcase and set it next to the back door, waiting for her to get out. She stepped out of the cab, grabbed her suitcase and started to walk away, noticeably hunched over. The cabbie screamed out to her that she hadn't paid the fare. She turned around and walked back to him. The cabbie noticed her complexion looked sallow, sweaty and flushed, as if she had a fever and her hair was damp over her forehead.

"Do you need help with that?" he asked as she got closer to him.

She shook her head, handed him the fare and walked back to the hospital entrance. Just as she walked through the door she stumbled and lost her balance. Cuddy was just coming out of her office and grabbed her by the arm before she fell.

"Are you alright?" Cuddy asked as she helped her up. "Do you need a doctor?"

"Yeah, House," the woman answered while trying not to let Cuddy see her face.

"He's here today, you're in luck. Do you need help with your luggage?" Cuddy asked as she bent down about to pick up her suitcase.

"No!" she snapped. "I just need to know where Greg House's office is, damnit!" she shouted, reached down and yanked the suitcase from Cuddy's hands.

Cuddy was taken aback by her over reaction but just told her the room number. The woman didn't thank Cuddy but walked to the elevator, took it up to the third floor.

Her head was spinning, she felt nauseous, she was freezing; her body shook from cold, even though she was wearing a thick turtleneck and light pink Irish wool sweater. And her stomach was killing her. She subconsciously rubbed her stomach and winced in pain.

She saw "Dr. Gregory House, Diagnostics" on the door of room 310. The lights were off and she didn't see him sitting behind his desk. Her hopes plummeted that he wasn't in his office and knew she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer to find him. She tried the door to see if it was locked and it was. She noticed the larger conference room to the left with the light on but there was no one at the table in the center of the room.

She saw the coffee pot in the corner and something warm sounded very appealing to her. She was briefly happy when she found the door unlocked. She walked in, set the luggage down and walked to the pot, grabbed a red coffee cup and poured a cup. She held it tightly in her hand as if it were a red-hot rock keeping her hands warm. She took a sip but it didn't curb the cold running through her veins as she'd hoped. She set the cup on the counter and grabbed her stomach, taking a slight breath.

"That'll cost you fifty cents," a gruff, familiar voice said.

She turned and saw House standing in the doorway between the two rooms and tried to smile, unsuccessfully.