Ok, so I know you're all desperate for the party dress... not long to wait... but there is still a wait! Sorry about that, but suspense is always good.

Chapter fourteen- Bad Day

There is nothing worse than a cold Tuesday, other than a cold Monday. And when you have both, one directly after another, the weather is bound to encroach upon your mood, no matter how sunny in nature it usually is.

She was late for work. This morning she had woken up late, due to a faulty alarm clock, still exhausted because during the night, a car alarm had gone off right outside her bedroom window. Not only had she swore far too loudly for her own liking on realising the time when she woke up, she had tripped over her laptop case and almost went flying. She had then dropped the remaining milk from the refrigerator onto the floor when she had noticed the date: 19th of December. Her dead husband's birthday and she had nearly forgotten. She was almost relieved when she remembered she only put flowers on his grave on his death anniversary, then felt awful for feeling like that. After clearing up the milk she had rushed out the front door and promptly skidded over on a patch of ice. Tumbling into her car, she realised as the cold left her in return for dry heat, that she really had hurt her ankle quite badly. She winced every time she put the brake on in the car, or hit the gas. Locking up her Lexus, she noticed to her even greater annoyance that she had a hole in the sleeve of her lovely gray sweater. Even for Allison Cameron, this was too much. She felt sick with frustration at how nothing was going right today, and after storming through the lobby with a face of thunder, she actually felt tears gather at the back of her eyes when she saw in her pocket mirror that her hair was a mess, too. Even when Wilson thanked her for her help the day before in deciding suitable Christmas gifts for various relatives, it did not lighten her attitude any more.

---

"You ok, Cameron?" Cameron's usual happy response to her friend Chase was replaced by a biting:

"Do I LOOK ok!" Through gritted teeth.

"Only asking!" said Chase, somewhat defensive.

"Well don't."

She spun away from the two doctors who were eyeing her suspiciously, and bit down on her lip, again feeling the sting of saltwater. She put on the coffee machine, before turning back round and collapsing into the chair next to her co workers.

"Sorry, Chase. Not a good day." She said shakily, head in hands.

"That's ok, wanna talk about it?"

"You want me crying?"

"Not really-"

"Then don't get me to talk about it." She had a sad little laugh in her voice as she said this.

It was left at that, and the three colleagues continued as usual. When House entered the conference room, he couldn't help but notice that Cameron was not looking on top form today. And when she went to get him his coffee, she flinched. Maybe she was sick?

House decided that, as usual, he wouldn't be kept in the dark about whatever was wrong with Cameron. The others were behaving as normal so he figured she'd told them what was on her mind. Maybe it was him? He shook that thought off as fast as it had come. He instructed Foreman and Chase a huge list of tasks to complete and so dismissing them for at least a day. If not longer. By the time they had strutted out of the room, Cameron was sitting back down, staring into her coffee cup.

"Quit mooning around, Cameron." He said, because he had to skirt around the true question 'are you ok?'

Her head jerked up then. It was the last straw. She was so angry. Angry at him. Angry because she had no one else to be angry at and she would push him away. Angry, most of all, that he cared.

"Mooning around?" she asked incredulously, her voice low and steady. Her eyes were glazed over in a way he had never seen before, and he didn't like. She continued:

"Don't even go there House." She stood up and walked until she was inches away, keeping her tone at its low level "Don't even try to work out what's wrong with me because you have no idea! Don't treat me like a puzzle because I'm not. I'm a person with real emotions and real feelings. And today, I'm pissed off. Not because of you, or anything to do with you. I'm just pissed, ok? I get that way sometimes, even though no one would believe it. I'm not some goddamned angel and I'm not always perfect. Far from it. And today, just once I'd like it if you could accept that. Accept me. Like I accepted you."

Her breathing was rapid and quiet. The silence in the office was deafening. Inside, he was cheering. Cheering because, for nearly three years he had wanted her to do this. Have a bad day and tell him quite plainly that it was none of his business. He figured she never did because she wanted him. Turns out she wasn't afraid of the loss of him anymore. He thought she would tiptoe around, trying to engrain herself into his heart, trying to be perfect. But she was being honest. She really didn't want him to know. He was falling for her even more.

"Let me take a look at your ankle, then." He had noticed she was having trouble with it as she walked towards him.

She let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

---

Exam room two was silent as she pressed an ice pack to her ankle. He was staring at her, chin resting on cane. She looked up and noticing his staring, said:

"If I didn't know you better, that would creep me out"

"But you do know me better."

"Yeah, I guess." She sighed "Sorry about before. It's just; I'm having a bad day. I shouldn't have got bitchy at you. It's not your fault."

"That's ok. I kinda like it when you get bitchy. Makes you seem, human. Always good to know I didn't hire a robot."

"Yeah" She smiled but there was still sadness in her voice.

"How's the ankle?"

"Better, thanks."

"Slacking?"

"I'd love to."