A/N: Wow, another super-long chapter. Are you guys lucky or what??? Now, tell me how much you love me so that my muse will keep working overtime. She's fickle and demands constant praise and attention. Hmm ... she's not unlike House in that way.

Disclaimer: Not mine, not now, not ever. Boo hoo.

Chapter 31

House lifted the phone to call Cuddy about his suspension when Cameron's words echoed in his mind. Normally, when House experienced what he referred to as a 'fit of conscience', it was Wilson's voice he heard. He ruminated momentarily about this change and how it reflected his changing relationships. House rubbed the phone against his chin. Before he could come to a decision about harassing Cuddy, the phone rang in his hands. Hoping it was Cameron he answered without checking the caller ID.

"House."

"Greg," Blythe replied in surprise. "What are you doing home in the middle of the day dear?"

"Oh, just taking a little vacation from work," House lied.

"Suspended again?" Blythe reproached him. "Oh Gregory, what did you do?"

"It's not important," House sighed. He hated that even when he tried to lie to his mother she knew the truth.

"It's important to someone, or you wouldn't have been suspended," Blythe said. She knew Greg's forthrightness frequently got him into trouble, but she couldn't help but be disappointed when she knew he'd done something he should be ashamed of. That wasn't the man she'd raised.

"Mom, I don't really want to talk about it," House said tiredly. If hearing disappointment from Cameron was bad, hearing it from his mother was infinitely worse. This was exactly why he usually screened his calls.

"Well then let's talk about something happier," Blythe agreed. If there was one thing the House family excelled at, it was letting things drop. "Your father and I are going to be in New York this week and we thought maybe we'd drive down to Princeton and see our son and his fiancée."

House panicked. Dinner with Cameron and his parents was a terrifying prospect. He floundered for any possible excuse. His mother would recognize any lie instantly and unfortunately for House that was all that came to mind.

"Greg?" Blythe interrupted his panic. "We could come down on Friday, if that's convenient for you."

"Friday," House repeated, trying to make it sound as though he was mentally checking his schedule.

"Yes Friday," Blythe confirmed. "And there's no sense in trying to tell me you have plans, I can already tell that you're not busy."

"Friday it is," House replied with fake enthusiasm, realizing there was no way out now. He just hoped that he and Cameron were back on speaking terms before Friday, or this dinner was going to be even more awkward than he feared.

Cameron sat at Cuddy's desk and stared forlornly at the mounting paperwork in front of her. Cuddy had only been out two days, how could things have gotten this bad so quickly? Cameron had stayed at the hospital until 8pm the previous two nights and she still felt as though she was in considerable danger of having the desk collapse on her from the weight of all these files. Wilson had stopped in once or twice to check on her, and she'd insisted she was fine. The last thing she wanted was for Wilson to report back to Cuddy that she couldn't handle this.

Cameron groaned when she glanced at the clock and saw it was already past 6pm. Her stomach growled and she rubbed her temples tiredly. She hadn't eaten lunch today; she'd been far too busy trying to correct a shipping snafu that had resulted in a thousand cases of tongue depressors being delivered to the cafeteria while a two month supply of coffee stirrers had gone to the clinic. Cameron heard a light knocking on the office door and wished she could hide under the desk.

"Cameron," a thickly accented voice called. "You busy?"

"Not at all, what can I do for you?" Cameron asked with a tired smile.

"You can stop what you're doing and eat dinner," Jasper said kindly. She placed a bag of something that smelled fantastic on the coffee table in Cuddy's seating area. Cameron's stomach growled loudly. "Rob told me he saw you here last night when he was leaving after the swing shift. We figured you'd still be here."

Cameron came from around the desk and greedily snatched the bag from the table. She opened it and grinned when she saw its contents, three gloriously greasy soft tacos. They were her favorite guilty pleasure, one that she denied herself far too often.

"How did you know?" Cameron asked as she pulled one of the tacos from the bag and began eating without even taking the wrappings all the way off. She groaned and closed her eyes when she got that first bite.

"You always ordered these when House was stressing you out about some case and keeping us here until all hours of the night," Chase said. Jasper smiled and linked her arm in his. She knew he'd had a thing for Cameron in the past, but she was secure enough not to worry about it. "You can't work for House for three years and not pick up on the little details."

"Then he's good for something because I am starving," Cameron joked as she unwrapped her second taco. She looked from Chase to Jasper and back again. "How are you two settling in together? I heard you were moving in?"

"We're getting used to each other," Jasper said happily. "It's an adjustment. I don't have any space left in the bathroom with all his hair care products."

"There might be more space if you ever threw anything away," Chase retorted.

"Some of that stuff has sentimental value!" Jasper protested.

"What's sentimental about ten half empty bottles of lotion?" Chase asked.

Cameron laughed quietly while they bickered. They seemed so happy together, even when they were getting on each other's nerves. Suddenly Cameron bolted upright in her chair. It was Wednesday; she was supposed to meet House for their 'confessions'!

"What time is it?" Cameron gasped. "Quarter to seven?! Sorry, you guys, I'm late for … something." Cameron began scrambling to shut off the computer, grab her jacket and bag and dash for the door. Jasper and Chase followed so she could lock the offices behind her. "Thanks for dinner!" Cameron shouted as she sprinted through the lobby.

"Jimmy, this is ridiculous!" Cuddy whined. "Bed rest doesn't actually mean you have to physically lie down the entire time."

"Yes, actually, it does," Wilson answered. "I'll bring you a cup of tea, but you need to lie back down on the couch." Wilson knew Cuddy was bored and anxious but if she couldn't even manage to slow down during her pregnancy, how would she ever manage to slow down once the baby arrived?

"This is torture," Cuddy grumbled under her breath, lest her jailor should hear.

"I heard that," Wilson's voice wafted out from the kitchen. Cuddy made a face. "We could talk about names some more."

"I thought we were supposed to be reducing my stress," Cuddy argued. So far talking about names had led to nothing but yelling about names.

"I'll behave if you will," Wilson offered. He came in from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with a teapot, cups and a plate of sugar free cookies. Cuddy raised an eyebrow.

"Do I get to eat the cookies?" She asked.

"Of course."

"Deal," Cuddy said, promptly snagging two cookies from the plate and sinking her teeth into one.

"How about Rebecca?" Wilson suggested.

"Too traditional," Cuddy objected. "Tabitha?"

"And give House proof you're a witch?" Wilson scoffed. "Gisele?"

"I'm not naming my daughter after your favorite underwear model," Cuddy said. "Abigail?"

"Abigail," Wilson repeated. "I like that."

House straddled the seat of his bike, tapping his fingers impatiently on the section of the seat between his legs. What started out as a simple annoyance that Cameron, of all people, was late had slowly escalated to something akin to worry. What if she wasn't coming? Was she really that angry that she would skip their meeting? House blew out an irritated breath and checked his watch; she was twenty minutes late. Five more minutes, House decided, and I'm out of here. That was the fourth time he'd promised himself that, but that wasn't important. He shifted uncomfortably; the bag on his back was becoming steadily heavier but taking it off meant he was waiting and he wasn't ready to acknowledge his inability to just leave.

A pair of headlights swung around the corner and House ignored the flood of relief that swelled in his chest, seizing instead on the irritation that came with it. She was twenty … three minutes late and hadn't even bothered to call. He was internally debating whether he should wait until she'd seen him and then drive off in a huff. The headlights blinded him momentarily as the tires crunched across the gravel path and then quieted as the car was parked on the grass.

Cameron flung the door open and then slammed it shut. She rushed over to where he sat grouchily on the bike.

"I'm so sorry," she gushed as soon as she was within earshot. "I was working and I didn't notice the time. Thank god Jasper and Chase stopped by to drop off dinner for me, I had no idea how late it was." She sounded slightly out of breath as she finally reached him; she had jogged from her car to get to him sooner. "Have you been waiting long? Is your leg alright?" She flung her arms around his neck and pressed a quick and sloppy kiss on his cheek as she pulled him into a fierce hug.

"My leg is fine, although my trachea is getting crushed," House grumbled. Cameron released him apologetically. She cupped his scruffy face in her hands and kissed him soundly. She pulled back and looked at him; there was no mistaking her sincerity. "I thought maybe you weren't coming."

"I'm sorry," Cameron said again. "I wouldn't do that. Not intentionally."

House jerked his head in the direction of their clearing. He dismounted the bike and began hobbling toward the blanket he'd already laid out. Cameron dashed back to her car to grab her bag from the passenger seat and then jogged back to catch up with House. They reached the blanket and House removed his bag and placed it gently on the ground. He slowly lowered himself to a sitting position and looked up at Cameron. She sat beside him. House reached for the bag and unzipped it, withdrawing from within a small, gray, metal box.

"I've got something for you," he said quietly. He handed the box to Cameron. He searched his pockets and produced a key, which he also handed to her.

"What is it?" Cameron asked.

"It's an insurance policy," House said. Cameron looked at him strangely. She raised her eyebrows to ask if she could open the box and House nodded. Cameron inserted the key and lifted the lid. She took in the vials of morphine, syringes and a bottle of Vicodin. She looked back at House. "Don't get rid of it," he said softly. "Just … don't let me have it either." Cameron nodded her understanding with tears in her eyes.

House scooted on the blanket until Cameron was seated between his long legs. He wrapped his muscular arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"This isn't exactly what Quig had in mind," Cameron said.

"Are you complaining?" House asked. Cameron shook her head no. "You can't see my face and I can't see yours." Cameron sighed and closed her eyes as she let his warm embrace ease away the day's tension. "You can go first."

Cameron stiffened in his arms, so much for easing away the tension. There were so many things she wanted to know about him, everything really, that sometimes she didn't even know where to begin. She wanted to ask him why he'd done what he'd done to Price, but she was afraid she already knew the answer. It amused him, and he never even considered the possibility that someone else might get hurt. Instead she decided on something she'd wanted to ask him for a very long time.

"What happened between you and your dad?" she asked. This time it was House's turn to stiffen with discomfort. He'd known it was only a matter of time before she asked about this and even though he knew it was coming it didn't hurt any less.

"He was pretty strict. You know how I am about following the rules," House said simply. "I got punished a lot when I was younger."

"Punished?" Cameron asked quietly. She'd suspected since she'd met his parents that there was more to his relationship with his father than just two head-strong men who didn't get along. "Did he … did he beat you?"

House closed his eyes. "Not exactly," he said. "He didn't hit me, much anyway. There were a couple times when I just wouldn't give in but it was too hard to fight him all the time."

"Give in to what?" Cameron asked. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know. Her own childhood of neglectful parents was painful enough; she at least was able to rationalize why her parents had been that way once she got older. But trying to rationalize active abuse was unimaginable.

"Ice baths, sleeping outside, digging holes," House answered. He tried to keep his voice nonchalant, but it was clear there was still resentment there.

"What about your mother?" Cameron asked.

"She never hit me," House said quickly. He didn't think his mother had ever contemplated such a thing.

"No, I mean did he … was he, uh, abusive to your mother?" Cameron hesitated at asking this question. There really wasn't a delicate way to ask, and House would only be annoyed at her timidity.

"He didn't need to be," House whispered. His eyes were closed, and had been since they'd begun. "She hates confrontations."

"But you love your mother," Cameron was confused. It just didn't seem to fit with everything else she knew about him. How could he still love her when she'd allowed his father to do those things to him?

"Military wives then did what their husbands told them to do," House said. He took a deep breath and let it slowly. He wanted to be honest with her; not even Wilson knew about his childhood. His fingers began tapping on her legs. "You didn't leave your husband because he was strict with your kids. He didn't beat me and he didn't beat her. He didn't drink or whore around like so many of his friends." He realized he was fingering Fur Elise on Cameron's legs. It had been his mother's favorite piece; she'd been so proud when he learned to play it and listened to him over and over again. Cameron laced her fingers into his and squeezed. "I couldn't hate them both."

Cameron nodded. She remembered trying to hate her parents when she'd gotten clean and gone away to college. Hatred takes a lot of effort to maintain; the best Cameron had been able to achieve was a malicious indifference. Even that had faded over time until she now rarely thought about her family at all. She could see how it would be hard to hate both your parents, especially as a very young child. And it certainly would be easier to hate the one who hurt you and accept the one who soothed you.

They sat in silence for a few minutes and just enjoyed each other's closeness. Cameron shivered a little in the cool spring air and House tightened his grip around her.

"Do you really think I'm a good man?" House asked.

"Yes," Cameron answered. "I do."

"Even after what I did to Price?"

"Even after what you did to Price," Cameron replied, but more slowly this time and House noticed.

"Really?" he asked skeptically.

"I'm angry," Cameron said. "I'll get over it. But Greg, it was thoughtless and I just can't reconcile the most brilliant man I know with being thoughtless. I know you could have seen this outcome if you'd just bothered to look. I've learned to accept your less than tactful bedside manner because you use it for the patient's good. But this was just for amusement or boredom and that's harder to accept."

"I thought he'd know I was screwing with him. I didn't expect him to take it to heart like that," House protested.

"Not everybody has a fortress around their heart, Greg," Cameron said. "Just because yours comes with armed sentries and a moat with man-eating sharks doesn't mean everyone else's heart is so well-protected."

"Nice metaphor," House couldn't help but smile. "And I am sorry."

"I know you are. But I'm not the person you should be telling," Cameron said. She shivered again. "Are you ready to go home?"

"Speaking of home," House said casually as he watched Cameron gather up the box, blanket and her bag. "How about we move in together?"

Cameron stood up slowly, her bag slung over shoulder, the metal box in her hands and the blanket draped over one arm. Her expression was blank, but her mind was racing. "Okay."

"Good," House said, nervous and relieved. "Great. And my parents are coming for dinner on Friday," he said quickly.

"Okay," Cameron replied again. Since the day he'd proposed, they'd never discussed their future for a moment. There had been no talk of moving, no wedding plans made. She was in shock.

"I thought we'd move into my place for now. It's closer to the hospital. Less stairs. Fireplace. Plus my piano will never fit in your living room," House rambled as they approached Cameron's car and his bike.

"Okay." Did he say dinner with his parents?

House paused beside his bike and looked at Cameron, amused by her confusion. She seemed a little thrown off, which of course was exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for. "Well, riveting as this banter has been, it's cold and my leg hurts. See you back home." He leaned down and kissed her cheek before mounting his bike and driving off.

"Okay," Cameron said to no one.