Disclaimer: Don't own House!

A/N: Thanks for your reviews guys. As it happens, I hate Tritter with a burning passion, and I did not have fun watching the show when he was on it. But, he does work well for this plot. He won't be around too much, though.

Please review!

CHAPTER 2

Cameron couldn't control the pounding of her heart as she walked up the steps to the police station. She knew that she would have to identify Eva's body, and see her sister for the last time. Never in a million years would she have guessed that this is how they would say goodbye. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, and Cameron angrily wiped them away. It wasn't fair; Eva had been young and healthy.

But most of all, Cameron was upset because she never had the chance to say she was sorry. How could she have let things get this far? Why hadn't she been there for her twin sister?

For a moment her hand rested on the door handle as she hesitated to enter the police station. Then, with newfound strength, she threw open the door and strode inside purposefully. She wasn't going to let anyone see her pain; that was for sure. Especially not Detective Tritter. She hadn't liked his voice when they talked on the phone. There was something so casually cruel about it.

"Excuse me? My name is Dr. Allison Cameron, and I'm looking for Detective Tritter," she announced to the man who was manning, she assumed, the reception desk. He didn't say anything, but pointed behind her to the back of a tall man with short-cropped gray hair.

"Detective Tritter? Lady here to see you!" the man called out. Cameron shot him a nasty look, which he completely ignored. Tritter turned to face her, and she had to resist the urge to gasp aloud. There was something so unbelievably cold about the look on his face.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a flinty tone.

"I'm Dr. Allison Cameron. Eva Cameron's sister," she explained. "We spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Dr. Cameron. My name is Detective Michael Tritter," he said, holding out his hand. Reluctantly, Cameron shook his hand, desperately trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach. "We need you to identify your sister's body, as you know. I can take you down to the morgue right now, and we can get that over and done with. Then I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's possible." Cameron extricated her hand from his grasp, and unconsciously wiped her palm against her pants.

"I think I can manage that," she announced. Tritter flashed her a grin, obnoxiously chewing his nicotine gum.

"Great, glad to hear it. Follow me, then."

House was blasting his iPod in his small office in the morgue, procrastinating on writing a report that should have been done yesterday. Instead, all he could do was stare at the personal belongings of Eva Cameron. In her pocket they'd found a small pendant with a silver chain, and a picture of her sister. The pendant was a simple pearl surrounded by small, House assumed, diamonds. It was somewhat odd; it reminded him of a sun, and yet the smooth, dull surface of the pearl reminded him of a full moon.

When he heard the door to the morgue swing open, he leaned over to peek through the window on his door to see who was coming in. The first face he saw was Tritter's. Asshole. The next face, however, took his breath away. He knew it had to be Eva Cameron's sister, if only because he'd seen pictures. She was beautiful, and yet, for a short second, House was disturbed because it almost seemed as if the corpse lying on a cold table in the morgue had suddenly come to life.

"Dr. House?" Tritter called out, clearly expecting House to find him, not the other way around. House was able to see the woman's reaction, and from the look on her face, he knew that she'd heard of him. Fuck, he thought. I so don't want to deal with that right now.

"Coming!" he yelled, sticking the picture of the sister and the pendant in his coat pocket. He grabbed his cane and threw open the door of his office. The woman jumped and turned to gaze at him. For a moment, he stood there and let her look him over. She quickly took in the cane, the five o'clock shadow, and the bags under the eyes, but for some strange reason her gaze settled on something right above his shoulder. His eyes narrowed as he took the chance to look her over.God, she's beautiful. Even though it was clear that the news of her sister's death had taken a toll on her, House thought that she managed to wear melancholy well.

"This is Dr. Cameron, House. She works at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I believe you've heard of the place," Tritter said with a ghoulish grin, amused by the clear interest the two expressed in each other.

"Dr. House," Cameron said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. House stared at her hand for a long moment, just until she started to become uncomfortable, and then he reached out and shook it. The feel of her small, smooth hand in his was electrifying, however, so he quickly took his hand back. He could feel, rather than see, Cameron frown.

"Would you please show Dr. Cameron her sister's body?" Tritter asked. Though his words were polite, House could never miss the tone of condescension. House nodded, and took note of the fact that Cameron practically rushed to his side at the first moment she could. Clearly Tritter hadn't made the best impression on her, either. There was a moment of hesitation on House's part when his hand reached the door handle that would reveal Eva's body. He looked down at Cameron, and when he saw her nod, almost imperceptible to most, he threw open the door. Slowly, he slid Eva's body out of its current resting place. A sheet covered her face, so House drew it back for Cameron to see.

Immediately Cameron whipped around and faced the wall. Her hand shot to her face and covered her mouth, and her other arm wrapped itself around her body. Tritter and House stood silently, listening to Cameron's harsh breathing.

"That's her," she said, her voice little above a whisper. "That's definitely her."

"You're sure?" Tritter asked out of habit.

"Absolutely," Cameron replied, her voice regaining some of its former strength. "No doubt about it." At that moment, Tritter's cell phone started to ring.

"Excuse me," he said, walking out the door. House turned to look at Cameron. He'd been in this situation hundreds of times; this one should be no different. But for a brief moment, he wished he could wrap his arms around her and comfort her. He wouldn't know how, of course, but the desire was there.

"I want to be here for the autopsy," Cameron announced, turning around and facing House. She wiped away the few tears that had flooded down her cheeks, but her eyes told him that she wasn't going to back down.

"You know I'm not allowed to do that," House replied.

"Since when did the rules stop you before?" She shot back. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated a response. Throwing his reputation so blatantly in his face took some courage, that's for sure. But his past wasn't something he wanted to remember, much less deal with. Yet this woman standing before him was intriguing; that he couldn't deny. In fact, the idea of spending just a little more time with her excited him, if only because he would get a chance to try and figure her out. Working mostly with dead bodies had robbed him of his opportunities to solve real riddles like Allison Cameron.

"Okay. Come back at six." His response seemed to surprise her, which pleased him. But she nodded quickly, just as the door to the morgue swung open and Tritter entered once more.

"Dr. Cameron, if I could take you upstairs for a little while and ask you a few questions about your sister, that'd really help us out." Cameron looked up at House, raised an enigmatic eyebrow, and turned to Tritter.

"I'd be happy to, Detective." House lowered his gaze to the floor, smirking as he heard the hint of malice in her tone. If he had to go by first impressions, he would say that Allison Cameron was his kind of woman.

House watched as his wristwatch finally hit six o'clock. Three seconds later, Allison Cameron hesitantly opened the door to his office.

"Dr. House? May I come in?"

"You're late," he noted. Shocked, she looked at the clock on his wall.

"By about fifteen seconds," she countered, attempting, and failing, to hide the sudden amusement that she felt. So far House was living up to his reputation, though she knew she still had a lot to see.

"But still late," he repeated. Cameron could see there was no arguing with him, so she just shrugged in response. House grunted as he stood up, and he ignored the look of concern on Cameron's face. He rifled through the contents of his pocket until he found his bottle of Vicodin, and he ignored the look of disgust on Cameron's face as he dry swallowed a pill.

"You're going to choke one day," she warned.

"Or die of liver failure. Either way, it sucks, I'm sure. But both are preferable to living in constant pain, so I suggest you keep your admonishments to yourself, because I'm not going to stop." He placed the Vicodin next to the pendant, which was still hiding in his pocket.

"Youcan't stop; there's a big difference," Cameron said, placing her hands on her hips and adopting a rather aggressive stance. Despite what her body was telling him, he saw the concern and caring in her eyes. She just met me, and already she gives a crap about what happens to me? How pathetic. That sounds just like something Wi-… He shook his head to stop his train of thought before it went somewhere he didn't want to go.

"The moment you come up with another way to keep me pain-free, then we'll talk, okay? Now, do you want to cut open your dead sister or what?" He watched helplessly as Cameron flinched in response to his last words. Dammit. I just can't keep my mouth shut. But she recovered quickly.

"I'm ready whenever you are," she replied, her voice much softer than before. House hated that he'd done that to her, but it wouldn't do him any good to let her know that.

"Scrub up, then."

About ten minutes later, Cameron and House were ready to begin the autopsy. But the body was still covered, because House knew he should ask Cameron something first. He looked down at her and asked,

"Did Tritter tell you how she died?"

"Not exactly. He just said it was violent." Her eyes were suddenly very apprehensive. House smiled grimly.

"Well, he certainly didn't lie."

"What happened?" Unconsciously, Cameron stepped away from the table.

"Her… heart was removed from her body." House watched Cameron blink furiously as she tried to process that information. Then, without warning, Cameron reached forward and pulled off the sheet that covered her sister's body. Surprisingly polite, House turned away as Cameron ran to the nearest garbage can and emptied the contents of her stomach. He was used to that. "You didn't each much today, did you?"

"No," Cameron groaned, spitting into the garbage can. "I didn't."

"Well, if you pass out on me during this, I'm just going to draw mustaches on your face with a permanent marker and then lock you in one of these fridges here," he warned.

"From what I hear, I should take you seriously," she replied, finally standing up. House nodded towards a sink in the corner, which, thoughtfully, had both a bottle of mouthwash and a tin of mints placed on the side. Cameron smiled gratefully, and walked towards the sink.

"Don't think that I didn't notice you try to deflect the conversation to something about me!" he called out, staring down at the troubled face of Cameron's sister.

"Can you blame me?" House could hear the water of the sink running as he reached for a scalpel. "I've heard so much about you, and I have to wonder what is true."

"The part about the huge, well, you know? That's completely true."

"I'm sure," she whispered mostly to herself, rolling her eyes. "What about drinking the blood of newborn babies to wash down handfuls of Vicodin so that you can better use your psychic powers to manipulate Cuddy into letting you do whatever you want?" House couldn't help but grin.

"That's ridiculous! I never needed to use any psychic powers to manipulate Cuddy! I can't believe people would slander me in such a way." For a moment, House was amused, remembering numerous of his antics back in Princeton. But then the smile fell from his face as he recalled the last time he'd spoken to Cuddy.

"House, I'm sorry, but you've left me no choice." She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, silently urging him to face her. House sighed and covered his hands with his face. His whole life had gone down the drain: first the infarction happened, then Stacy left, and now this.

"I'm in pain, Cuddy. Why doesn't anyone believe me?"

"It's not that we don't think you're in pain, it's that we know that that's not the only reason why you're taking Vicodin. You're a brilliant doctor, House, and you know I respect you. But I can't let any more people die because you're too stubborn to admit that you have a problem." When House didn't face her, Cuddy stepped in front of him, and pulled his hands away from his face. He looked into her eyes and saw the regret that she'd been trying so hard to hide while they were all at the hospital. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

Unexpectedly, House violently shoved her to the side. Cuddy was slammed against the wall, and the look in her eyes quickly turned to fear.

"Get out of here!" he yelled. "I don't want your pity! I want you to let me do my job! I want my Vicodin!" House stood there, panting heavily as Cuddy slowly reached for her purse on his living room couch, eyeing him the entire time as if he was a dangerous predator. "Get out!" he screamed, reaching for the empty bottle of scotch on his piano and throwing it against the wall. Cuddy flinched as the glass shattered, instinctively covering her face.

Without another word, she left, leaving House alone. With some of his energy gone, House reached for his blinking answering machine and ripped it out of its socket. With the same violence, House threw it at the door.

"Tell Wilson to stop calling me!" He wasn't sure if Cuddy heard him, but it didn't matter anymore.

"How is Cuddy doing?" House asked, his voice much quieter and his teasing tone replaced by something much more introspective. Cameron picked up on this, and, not wishing to pry, answered simply,

"Fine, I think. Busy as always."

"Of course," House replied, mostly to himself.

"Anyone else you're curious about?" They both knew whom she was referring to specifically.

"Nope. Not anyone that I can think of, anyway. Let's get started, shall we? Unless, of course, you need to go puke some more."

"Do most woman find you charming, or is it more along the lines of, say, sociopathic?"

"Oh, you have no idea. I'm a total hit."

"Among desperate prostitutes?"

"Come now, I won't let you demean working women like that." House affected righteous indignation, much to the amusement of Cameron. She grinned at him, and House realized that for the first time in a long time, he was enjoying the company of another person. Go figure, he thought. Who knew that morgues were the best places to pick up women?

"Scalpel, nurse?" he asked, dramatically mimicking a medical television show. Cameron raised an eyebrow and nodded towards his hand. "Right! I already have one. Boy, am I glad you're here." Though they'd kept up this stream of banter, Cameron had yet to look at the body of her sister. Now that they were actually beginning to work, Cameron felt her stomach begin to churn once more. "Stay with me, Cameron. Tell me about her wound. What do you notice?"

Cameron had forgotten that House, though he pretended to hate it, had been something of a teacher.

"Well, it doesn't look like a clean cut," she started, feeling herself switch into doctor mode. House nodded encouragingly as he started to make a long cut in the body's chest. "It's…" she trailed off, and looked up at House, uncertain.

"Say it," he encouraged.

"It looks as if someone just reached inside her chest and ripped out her heart. Everything is torn apart." For a moment, the room started to spin as she pondered just how her sister may have died. "But it's impossible," she said. "Impossible."

"That's exactly what I said," House agreed. "Can you hand me the chest spreader?" Cameron nodded, though House wasn't looking at her, and reached for the chest spreader. "What else?"

"Did you do a tox screen?" she asked, handing him the spreader.

"On my desk," he answered. Cameron, eager to avoid watching House spread open her sister's chest, went to his office and grabbed a file marked "Cameron, Eva." She flipped through it as he worked.

"There's nothing?" she exclaimed. House smiled bitterly at the incredulous tone of her voice.

"Again, exactly what I said." Cameron rushed next to House's side, getting in his way as she reached for her sister's wrists and ankles.

"But there are no marks. How could someone have removed her heart if she wasn't drugged or if she wasn't bound? Eva never would have… I mean, she would have fought. The only reason why she wouldn't have would be if…" She found House looking at her expectantly after she trailed off. Having House's full attention focused on you was not an altogether pleasant experience.

"Would you like to continue, Dr. Cameron?" he asked, though his tone of voice made it clear that it wasn't a polite invitation.

"Oh, no, I forgot what I was going to say." She lowered her gaze to the floor, still aware of House's eyes on her. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Cameron felt a strong pull towards House. It was with some surprise that she realized she was attracted to him. There was a tense moment of silence as House tried to decide whether or not to push her further. When he didn't say anything else, Cameron was relieved. She'd just had her first clue as to what happened to her sister, but she also knew she couldn't tell House. At least, not yet.

"What else?" House asked, drawing her attention back to the task at hand. "We need more theories." With House's prodding, Cameron managed to get through the rest of the autopsy without any more problems. In fact, in any other situation, she might have enjoyed the experience of working with him. He pushed her, and made her think creatively. There was no one at Princeton who'd done that. But, in the end, they were no closer to figuring out exactly what had happened to Eva.

Frustrated, House threw his medical gloves into a nearby trashcan. He hated to leave things unfinished. Silently he watched Cameron as she slowly removed her gloves.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, trying to appear nonchalant. Cameron gave him a look.

"You mean, after autopsying my sister?" Though there was amusement on the surface of that remark, House couldn't miss the sadness hidden deep within her tone.

"Well,I'm hungry. I'm going to go get some food." This time, Cameron actually smiled.

"Are you inviting me along?" She was teasing him, but not enough so that he felt uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how she was able to handle him so expertly after only a few hours with him.

"Yeah, I guess I was. At least, I was trying to."

"Like a date?" Again, she was trying to keep things light, but he knew it was a serious question.

"Sure, except for the date part." Cameron eyed him warily, unsure of his intentions. But she quickly made up her mind.

"I'll probably faint if I don't eat soon," she reasoned. "So, why not?"

"Good," he said. "I'm going to go grab my coat." After he put on his coat, he reached into his pockets to find his keys. As he fumbled for his keys, his fingers grazed the pendant. "Oh," he whispered. Catching Cameron's eye, he motioned for her to come to him and he wordlessly held out her sister's pendant. Immediately tears began to form in her eyes and threatened to spill onto her cheeks. House couldn't deal with that, so he roughly thrust the pendant into her hand and walked towards the door.

When he didn't hear her follow him, he turned around and saw her desperately trying to put the necklace on, but her hands were too shaky to fasten the clasp in the back.

"Let me," he grumbled, rolling his eyes and returning to her side.

"Thanks," she said. House heard her sniffle as she pulled her hair away from her neck. His sudden close proximity to Cameron made his head swim a bit—she smelled like lavender and something else, something much more indefinable—so it took a try or two before he finally managed to fasten the clasp.

"There," he whispered, the knuckles of his hand lightly grazing the back of her neck. He was too distracted to notice the goosebumps rise on her skin, or the sudden erratic breathing on her part. Slowly, she let her hair fall once more.

"Ready?" she queried, turning around. No? he thought, staring into her eyes. Her eyes told him the same thing. But we're running with this, aren't we? she seemed to question.

"Sure," he replied. "Let's go."