Disclaimer: I don't own House!

A/N: Thanks for your reviews, guys. It makes me happy to know that people are reading (and enjoying…) So keep it up! ;)

Cameron sat on her couch, wrapped in her favorite quilt—the one her mother had made her for her fifth birthday—and sipped from a mug of hot peppermint tea. All of the lights in the apartment were off, and she was simply staring out of her window, thinking. A few hours ago, Chase had dropped her off, picked up a few of his things that were scattered around, and then left. Just like that. She'd cried some more, telling him again and again how sorry she was, and he'd given her one last hug. But then he left. Of course he would; she'd just broken up with him.

She needed to talk with someone. With who? Not with Chase, obviously, or with Foreman. Unfortunately she hadn't been in close enough contact with her college friends—or high school friends, for that matter—to warrant a teary nighttime phone call. Besides, most of them were married with kids; they had their own lives to deal with. Cameron sighed and wrapped the quilt tighter around her body. Suddenly she had an idea and reached for the phone. She dialed the number without even thinking.

"Hello?" a man answered after a few rings.

"Wilson?" She sniffled.

"Cameron? What's wrong?"

"I-I just need someone to talk to. Are you busy?"

"Uh, well, no. No, I'm not. I'm just finishing up some paperwork in my office." Cameron glanced at the clock. Though it felt to her as if it should have been three in the morning, it was still only nine.

"Oh, I don't want to bother you," she demurred. What an idiot. Yes, I do want to bother him…

"Cameron, it's okay, seriously. I don't mind. Tell you what: I haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"No."

"Well, how about you pick up some Chinese or something, and bring it to my office, and then we can eat and chat? In the meantime, I can try to get some more paperwork done. Does that sound okay?" Though he sounded for the most part calm and soothing, she could pick up on a hint of nervousness. She just couldn't tell if he was worried about her or about something else.

"That sounds okay. I think I can do that."

"Good, I'll see you soon then. Bye."

"Bye." Cameron hit the end button on her phone, and stared at it for a minute. Then she slowly put it down, and stood up, looking for her keys.

House had been perfectly serious when he'd planned on getting roaring drunk that night. First, he'd had to fire Terzi, though, and then he'd had to ask her out. Maybe that hadn't been the smartest idea he'd ever had—most women wouldn't appreciate an offer of a date from the guy that just fired them. Obviously, he'd been rejected. Again. Not that he was surprised.

So, he made a small show of packing up for the night, and then he'd retreated back to his office, where he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bottle of a nice twenty three-year old Scotch. There was no excuse to have something like that hidden away in his office except for the fact that House had anticipated on one day needing it desperately. A day like today, come to think of it. At the moment, though, House was not analyzing the reasons why he'd decided that today was the day.

As an experiment, House tossed his ball into the air. When he caught it without a problem, he knew he still had some drinking to do. He poured a generous amount of Scotch into his red coffee mug, and leaned back in his chair. At that very moment, he saw Cameron walk by. House did a violent double-take, making sure that it was indeed his former immunologist walking by his office at nine forty-five at night carrying a bag of take out. Where the Hell is she going?

He waited a few seconds, before limping to his office door, and opening it a crack. All he caught was a glimpse of her blonde hair as she presumably took a turn to the right. To Wilson's office…

Contemplating what he just saw, House went back into his office and downed his Scotch. He made a small face as he poured himself another shot.

"You're here already? Great. I'm starving!" Wilson gave Cameron a warm smile as he opened the door to his office, and motioned toward the couch. Together they unpacked the food in silence, each unsure of what to say. "So, what's up?" Wilson asked, as he started to dig into his cold sesame noodles.

"Chase and I broke up today." She waited a moment while Wilson choked on his noodles. "It's a good thing, I think. But, I feel bad about hurting his feelings."

"So, you were the one to break it off?" he asked hesitantly.

"Well, I suppose you could say that. I was the one who wanted to break up, and he didn't. But he understood, I guess. Isn't that amazing? I just don't understand. He realized I was unhappy, and he just let me go." Even though they were discussing a serious topic, Cameron hadn't realized how hungry she was. She stuffed half a dumpling in her mouth and chewed it carefully.

"You're right, I don't really understand that. Chase is head over heels in love with you. What reason could he possibly have to let you go?" Wilson watched Cameron carefully as she considered his question.

"I think it's because he finally realized that I was never going to love him."

"And why wouldn't you?"

"Because I'm in love with someone else." She answered without any hesitation, prompting Wilson to lower his chopsticks. Cameron smiled sadly as she nodded towards House's office. "I'm a lost cause, apparently."

"Oh, Cameron. I-I don't know what to say. I'm sorry," Wilson apologized, staring down at his noodles. He absently picked at them with his chopsticks, contemplating Cameron's confession. It wasn't as if it was unexpected, but he'd always thought that she'd eventually move on—Chase seemed patient enough to wait it out. But apparently she hadn't budged. The thought brought a small smile to his face. If only House wasn't such an idiot… He's lucky to have a woman like Cameron waiting for him to come to his senses. At least, that's what he assumed she was doing. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What can I do about it? I was hoping you might have some advice for me." She popped the other half of the dumpling in her mouth. Wilson thought about that for a moment, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

"Can I ask you a question? What happened in the Mirror patient's room? Or, maybe more importantly, what happened after that?" Cameron froze in place, and Wilson knew he'd hit a nerve. But when she relaxed, he also knew that she'd tell him everything.

"Well, the patient mirrored House, right? He told me he missed me, and that he was sorry, and that he wanted me to come back. But House? House said nothing." She leaned back against the couch, her food forgotten for the moment. "Later that night, he called my apartment."

"He called you?" Wilson blurted out.

"Don't get too excited. He hung up when Chase answered the phone. I called him back later, though." Laughing, Cameron ran a hand over her face. "I can't believe I called him back. I'm such an idiot. I called him back and told him I missed him too. He hung up the phone, and I haven't heard from him since. I haven't seen him since, really."

Wilson was steaming. He couldn't believe his friend was that much of a jerk. Well, yes, he actually could believe it, but it still didn't make any sense. House had it bad for Cameron, Wilson knew that, but he didn't understand why House wouldn't just accept it. In fact, it was as if he was constantly punishing himself for it. With a low growl of frustration, Wilson stood up and began to pace his office. Cameron watched him, chewing her hot and spicy beef.

"I'm sorry, Cameron. I really wish I knew what to do. Although he's never actually admitted it to me, I know that he cares for you, but he's just too stubborn to do anything about it. I just…" He threw his hands up in the air. "He's an idiot. That's all that I can say right now."

"That's the problem. There's nothing I can do if he won't even admit that he misses me. I mean, just because he might miss me doesn't mean that he has to have feelings for me. I understand that. But I just don't want to sit around and wait for something to happen. By this point I should have moved on long ago, but I can't. Don't ask me why, because I have no idea." After a sip of her Coke, she turned to Wilson and smiled. "Listen, it's okay. Just talking about all of this has made me feel better already." When Wilson raised an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving her, her smile grew wider. "Really, Wilson, I promise. Now tell me what's been up in your life recently." Wilson could recognize a change in subject when he saw it, and although he was slightly hesitant to leave such a gigantically important topic, he started to tell Cameron about his life.

Cameron was glad that she had ended up calling Wilson. It had been great to catch up with him, and even though she didn't solve all the deep problems in her life—heck, she hadn't even touched on a few of them—she felt a slight bounce in her step as she walked down the hallway past Diagnostics. Though she tried to resist the urge, she couldn't help but look into House's office as she walked past. To her surprise, she saw a dim light on. He couldn't still be here, could he? Cameron must have spent at least a minute staring at the office door, desperately trying to decide what to do.

She ended up opening the door without preamble. House was slumped over his desk, a half empty bottle of Scotch next to him. Again she felt the same apprehension she'd felt as a little girl when she walked over to his side. Too many times in her life, this scenario had ended up going badly. Lightly she placed her hand on his shoulder and shook him.

"House?" she whispered. When he didn't move, she shook him a little more forcefully. "House?" He stirred, but didn't fully awaken. Finally Cameron smacked him hard on the arm. House's head shot up, and he was blinking furiously, desperately trying to focus. Eventually, though, he realized who was standing next to him.

"What are you doing here?" he croaked, rubbing his temples.

"I saw your light was on," she responded, smiling. "I'm going to go get Wilson and get him to take you home." When she turned around to head towards the door, she was stopped by the sound of his voice.

"No!" House barked. "Absolutely not."

"Don't be ridiculous, House, there's no possible way you can drive yourself home in this condition."

"I'm not planning on driving myself home; I'm planning on getting drunk." When he reached for the bottle of Scotch, Cameron rushed forward to grab it from him. Her hand wrapped around his as she tried to tug the bottle out of his grip. She stilled when she realized he was looking up at her. He was staring at her, and the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine. It was moments like this that reminded her why it was so hard to give him up. Hesitantly, House's thumb brushed against hers. When she didn't remove her hand, he tried it again with a little more confidence. For a moment Cameron was frozen in place, enthralled with the sensation of his skin against hers. But then she began to wonder about his intentions. Was he just manipulating her so she would give him his booze? The thought enraged her, and she snatched her hand away, along with the Scotch.

"You should really let Wilson drive you home," she whispered, still furious. House gave her a confused look.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be home with Chase, braiding each other's hair and telling each other all your deepest secrets?" he spat. Cameron could tell he was frustrated with her, but she couldn't stop herself from taking his bait.

"No, House. Chase and I broke up today." She slammed his Scotch down on the file cabinet, completely missing the small smile that flitted across his features. "I'm going to go get Wilson."

"Wait." House stood up and rushed over to grab her arm. Automatically, Cameron felt panic rise in her throat; she couldn't help it. Based purely on a long ingrained instinct, she reached up to cover her face with both hands. House stilled completely. "Cameron?" he whispered, his voice barely containing his rage. "I'm not going to hurt you." Very deliberately, he loosened his grip and let her go. "But someone did, didn't they?" She slowly dropped her hands from her face, and found House's gaze. There was a mixture of rage, frustration, and pain in his eyes, but she realized that none of it was directed at her. Was House feeling protective?

"I-I should go," she whispered.

"It wasn't Chase, was it?" When she saw the murderous intent in his eyes, Cameron reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"No, House, no. It…It was a long, long time ago. Don't even think about it. I'm sorry; I never actually thought you would hurt me." House looked down at her tiny, pale hand on his shoulder. When she removed it, he slowly reached out and took her hand. He knew that he was pretty drunk by this point, but he couldn't help the warm feeling that spread throughout his body as she curled her fingers around his. "What is it, House?" Cameron whispered.

"I-I…" What? I love you? I'm sorry? Would you like to have dinner with me, and this time I'll try not to be such a huge jerk? Will you give me a ride home? "Maybe it'd be a good idea if you got Wilson."Fuck. Disappointment washed over Cameron's features as she extricated her hand from his grasp. She sighed as she grabbed the bottle of Scotch.

"Okay then, House. Maybe I'll see you later."

"Yeah, later." He stared down at the floor, not wanting to see the hurt in her eyes as she left his office. God dammit.