Disclaimer: They're not mine. Wish they were though.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry the update took so long, school has been kicking my butt the past few weeks. Hope this chapter is okay, and (kinda) makes up for it. Thank you guys so much for the overwhelming response to this story. I was worried that I didn't write the characters well enough, clearly you guys liked something about it. This is definitely going to be a major project for me, I'm so excited. :) I have a plan for these two.

Here's To The Night

The pair just stared at the intruder, knowing what was running through his head right now.

"I mean really," he spat at the still connected doctors, "I thought you were smarter than that, Cameron. Falling for Jimmy's charms? You know what a womanizer he is." Cameron could feel Wilson's blush from where she stood, and Wilson finally let her go.

"Oh don't stop on my account, I'll just stay and watch the show." House sat on the couch and looked at the two expectantly. Wilson shook his head and turned back to Cameron. She kept her face stoic as she shrugged off her coat and put it back on the chair.

"Are you alright? Do you need anything?" She smiled graciously, taking comfort in the fact that Wilson would risk House's wrath to make sure she was okay.

"I'll be fine. Thanks James," she said softly, giving him a quick hug, knowing how much it would bother House, and telling by his smile, Wilson knew what she was doing. With a quick nod in House's direction, Wilson quickly walked out of the room, determined to take more of Cuddy's money. Without looking in his direction, Cameron turned away from House and walked back out onto the balcony, leaning against the railing.

She stood there, enjoying the chill in the air, the way it seeped through her skin and buried itself in her bones. Tensing as she heard the door slide open and the familiar step-thump gait of her intruder, she decided not to turn around.

"You know, when we went on that date you coerced me into, he told me to ask about your 'D.H.A.'"

"D.H.A.?" Not bothering to turn around, Cameron finally spoke, her voice huskier than she had intended.

House decided to ignore the decidedly primal quality of her voice and continued. "D.H.A. Dreams, hopes and aspirations. Said it was a 'panty peeler.' Just thought you'd like to know what your new man toy really thinks of you," House snarked.

"He's not my man toy. He was just being nice," Cameron protested, knowing it would do no good.

"So he was being nice by feeling you up? Maybe I should be nicer to you."

"No, you jackass. We were talking out here and I got dizzy, and almost passed out. He caught me and was just helping me inside so I could sit down. Anything else you wanted to know?"

"No," House said quietly, shocked Cameron by not saying anything more. She shivered a little, the cold she was enjoying becoming a little too much in just her dress. They stood in silence for a few minutes, when she was startled by a weight being placed on her shoulders as House covered her bare arms with his tuxedo coat.

After a few seconds she thanked him, and as expected he didn't respond like she thought he would.

"What happened?"

"What happened when?"

"When you almost passed out. Are you being intentionally dense tonight?"

"It happens sometimes. I have low blood pressure and sometimes it hits me. No big deal."

"Sure, no big deal. What if you were out here by yourself?" House hit himself with his cane since she couldn't see, scolding himself for being too openly caring.

"So you're telling me that I should never be alone again? Just in case?"

House didn't reply yet, knowing he had already said more than he should have. He chose his next words carefully. "Do you know how much interviewing for a new Immunologist would suck?"

"Glad to see where your priorities lie."

"And even if I did find one, you're the best lobby art I could have ever hired." Cameron smiled to herself, knowing that that one line was as close to a compliment that she would get from House tonight.

Moving to stand next to her, House hooked his cane on the balcony railing and propped himself up next to her. He could feel the heat emanating from her, she had never looked sexier, her hair falling over her shoulders, a little windblown; she was drowning in his coat.

"What did you want to say to me earlier?" Rolling his eyes at her puzzled expression, he elaborated, "in the clinic? You stopped me from leaving then said 'never mind.' Now, I know you're a woman, so confusing behavior from you is typical, but you're not one to hold back. At least, not lately."

"It was nothing," she said, finally turning to face him. He quickly drank her in, enjoying the way the cold air made her cheeks flush.

"You're lying. It was something."

"I lied before too."

"You mean before tonight? Of course you did, everybody lies."

"You're right, everybody lies."

"Everybody lies, and it's never, never Lupus. Two rules you should live by."

"I was just going to say that you looked nice tonight."

"No you weren't."

"No, I wasn't. But you do." House ignored her compliment and continued staring at her.

"I lied before too. I am damaged, but not in a way you would think," she said quietly.

For the first time, House saw the injury in Cameron's sad green eyes as she turned to walk back into his office.

"Cameron, wait," he said with a sigh, echoing her plea from earlier. She hesitated and he could tell she was trying to decide whether or not he was just toying with her again. He quickly walked into his office, and pulled something out of his file cabinet. He reappeared on the balcony, two helmets in his hands.

"Want to go for a ride?"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After stopping by the poker table and telling Wilson that he was going to go have a hot, steamy night out with 'his girl," House quickly changed back into the jeans and t-shirt that he had worn to work that day and walked out to the parking lot; Cameron stopping him in mid-thought for the second time that night. He thanked the gods he didn't believe in for giving him the excuse to walk slowly, so he could take her in. Leaning against a pillar, waiting for him, she had left her hair down, but had changed into a long sleeve black shirt with a hood, and dark low rise jeans. He added his thanks for low rise jeans to his non-prayer and tossed her her helmet.

"Do you know how to put it on or should I do it for you?" He smirked, knowing she would catch both meanings.

"Should I be asking you that?" She said quickly, putting her helmet on. He grinned in response, put his cane up and got on his bike, waiting for her to follow suit. As soon as he felt her arms tight around his waist, he started the engine and zipped out of the parking lot.

They drove for a half hour or so, both grateful that they didn't have to fill the space with conversation. Now they were just sitting at a deserted intersection. House watched as the light turned green again, then back to red. He could only imagine what Cameron was thinking. He was just trying to decide whether or not to turn back, whether or not she wanted to keep driving.

And of course Cameron could read his mind. She leaned forward and tapped his left hand, giving him a direction. He smiled as he felt her pressed against him, glad his helmet covered his face. She'd never let him live it down. Revving the engine, he cruised through the intersection, leaving the red light behind.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

One small town later, an IHOP was spotted and on cue, his stomach started growling. He acknowledged that he would actually have to talk to her if they ate together, but he figured he couldn't do too much damage if his mouth was stuffed with pancakes. He pulled into the parking lot and walked into the restaurant, knowing she'd follow.

"Is this okay?" He asked as she sat down, instantly kicking his own ass for asking. Raising an eyebrow, she nodded, the relief washing over her face as the waitress came up to the table. They ordered and sat in silence until the coffee came.

She fixed both of their drinks and was rewarded with a smirk.

"My little do-gooder. I guess old habits die hard?"

"If you made it and didn't like it, you'd only blame me anyway. This way I save you the trouble of trying to come up with another brilliant example of your fascinating wit," she snarked, rolling her eyes as a relaxed grin planted itself firmly on her face.

"Very true. That's why I hired you. You got the smarts."

"I thought I was just lobby art."

"I believe I said you were smart too."

"No, I believe you said I was damaged."

"You are damaged, but-"

"Damaged, intelligent lobby art is still lobby art," she said pointedly, still smiling so he wouldn't take her jabs too seriously.

"And apparently it's chatty too," he grumbled, hating that he had no response. She smirked and silently threw herself a little party for successfully shutting him up.

Or I could just kiss him. That'll shut him up. Cameron chuckled to herself, like that would ever happen.

"God where is our food? It can't be that hard to punch a few buttons on a screen, carry some plates, annoy some customers..."

"Not that it's hard when it's one in the morning and we're the only one's here, but waiting tables is harder than it looks."

"And you would know this how?" He asked as the waitress set their pancakes in front of them.

"I used to wait tables at the IHOP back home," she said casually, delicately cutting into her food.

"Allison Cameron waiting tables? I don't believe it. I always picture you as a candy striper at the local hospital, trying to cheer up all the dying little kiddos," he snarked through a mouthful of food.

"Really? I was never a candy striper."

"Too bad. I can just picture you in the outfit," he said with a lecherous grin. She rolled her eyes and unclenched a little more.

After a few minutes of eating and not conversation, House couldn't deal with the silence anymore.

"So you're damaged?"

"I'm not damaged. I don't know why you always assume that I am."

"Liar. You said earlier-"

"I said nothing," she said to her plate, not wanting to make eye contact. House decided to save the next round of questions for later. He'd get it out of her eventually. This time, he decided to keep him mouth shut and let her talk. He watched her as she ate, she looked like she wanted to say something, but wasn't willing to say it.

"Spit it out."

"What?" she asked, horrified at the prospect of what he could have meant.

"You want to say something. It's obvious. You look like a fish, you keep on opening and closing your mouth. So spit it out."

"It's nothing."

"Don't be such a girl. What is it?"

"Okay. This one time-"

"At band camp?"

"I never took band. Shut up. This one time, when I was a waitress-"

"At IHOP."

"No shit. Shut up," she deadpanned.

"Oooh grouchy. PMS?" He asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yes. Because I'm a woman. That's it. Good call, Doctor. Shut up. This one time, when I was a waitress at IHOP, I had this big party, shut up I'm telling this story. Don't make me pull this car over," she laughed as he pouted over her preemptive strike. "So I was at the table taking their order. I didn't notice that the host was seating another party and led them directly behind me. I finished and I stepped backwards away from the table, and managed to trip an 85-year-old woman. Straight to the ground, it was too fast, no one managed to catch her or stop her from falling."

"My god. This explains everything! The years of clenching, all the guilt and compassion. Is that why you became a doctor?"

"Turned out, a few months earlier, she had had hip replacement surgery. I raced into the bathroom and cried for a good 15 minutes, and walked back out. They had been seated in my section, so I gave the table away."

"Did they get it on the cameras?"

"Yes. They made me watch it a few times too," Cameron said sadly, looking like she regretted telling this story. She had only wanted to change the subject.

"I wonder if they still have it. I'm going to need that address."

"I'll get it for you tomorrow."

"Really?"

"No. Let's go though, it's getting late." House nodded, surprising Cameron by not making her pay for his. They stepped outside into the downpour they hadn't noticed earlier.

"Can we drive in this?" Cameron asked, not too sure if it was a stupid question or not, she braced herself for the worst. Again, House surprised her.

"Sure, I'll be careful. Don't worry," He said, almost gently. Cameron nodded and they started the trip back.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So, you're here. I should go. I'm just glad we don't have to work tomorrow," House said casually as he walked her up to her apartment.

"Not that it would matter. You'd just sleep in even later," she said, grinning.

"You're probably right."

"I know I'm right."

"Okay, okay. Bye."

"Bye House," Cameron said, rolling her eyes, grateful that she knew better than to expect anything more from him. She turned to walk inside when she heard an unusually very quiet man call her name.

"Cameron?" he asked, almost hoping she wouldn't hear him, cursing himself when she did turn around, he told himself to man up and just get it over with. "Thanks. This was fun."

"Yeah, it was." She smiled warmly in return as a bright bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, not missing the worry in his eyes.

"Can you drive in this? I mean, it's not like the rain on the way back. It's pretty bad out there." Cameron only hoped her concern wasn't plastered all over her face, he'd never let her live it down otherwise. He opened his mouth to respond as the sounds of hail pelting the building echoed through the hallway.

"I guess that's a no. Mind if I stay here for a while?"

"No problem. I was just going to watch a movie and then go to bed."

"A movie? At 2:30 in the morning? How irresponsible. I'm so proud!"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, grimacing at her witty comeback as she unlocked the door.

She grimaced as House sat on the couch and made himself at home. His wet clothes would drench the couch.

"Want anything to drink? Or some other clothes?"

"Trying to undress me?"

"If I were, I wouldn't ask," she said dryly, enjoying the rare grin now on his face. He would kill her if he knew she saw it. "You're soaked. I have some clothes from the last time my brother was here," she trailed off, wandering off to find where she had put them. She returned a few minutes later, clothes in hand, barefoot wearing blue flannel pajama pants and a tank top. House gulped when he saw her and trying to control his gaze. She was a knockout when she was all dressed up, and even at work, but there was something about a beautiful woman being casual that just tried to make every rational thought leave his head.

"Thanks," he croaked, getting up to change in the bathroom. He returned wearing track pants and a tshirt, sitting back down on the couch, and reaching for his jacket.

"So drinks. What do you have?" He asked, popping a few bitter pills in his mouth.

"What do you have?"

"Some Baileys, Jameson, Jack, Bombay Sapphire, Stoli, etc. Do I have to keep going? I have liquor. What do you want?"

"Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?"

"I wouldn't have to get you drunk for that. If you don't want liquor, I have pomegranate juice, coke, and skim milk. Not a hard choice."

"Hmmm...feisty. Jameson on the rocks. Three fingers. Can you manage that?"

"I'm not sure. It might be too difficult." He could hear her rolling her eyes. She handed him his drink as she sat down close to the other end of the couch and curled up.

"What the hell is that?" He asked, pointing to her drink.

"Baileys."

"Baileys on the rocks? You are such a woman."

"God you're so observant. Pick a movie,' she said, sipping her drink.

He nodded and they sat through "Jurassic Park" and he snarked his way through each scene, Cameron enjoying his dialogue more than the movie's. The thunderstorm was still severe, so they sat in silence, listening to the hail rap against her windows.

"Thank god I parked under your carport," House said absently. Not sure what to say in this situation, wishing Cameron would say more than just nod. Obviously leaving would be difficult considering the storm, and if this were Wilson, he would just assume he was staying.

"Do you want to stay?" Cameron blurted after a few moments, her face paling as she realized what she said.

"Um-"

"I mean, you don't have to. I was just offering. If you want I can drive you home, and you can get your bike back tomorrow. I could pick you up, or Wilson could, I'm sure he'd be happy to pick you up-"

"Cameron, shut up. I'll stay. Thanks. Hail hurts to drive in." She nodded. He would be staying. Overnight. In her apartment. Sleeping. In her apartment. Overnight. One bedroom down from hers. Staying. Crap. She smiled, collecting herself.

"I just need to put sheets on the bed. It'll just take a few minutes," she said, opening up her linen closet.

"No flowers. Or pastels. I want manly bedding."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

So that story about Cameron working at IHOP and tripping the old lady? Well, it was really me. I used to work at IHOP and it's a true story. Every bit of it. Yep. And to this day, I still feel guilty. She was okay though, not even hurt. :)

Put your name on the line
Along with place and time
Want to stay, not to go, I want to ditch the logical
Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well

Here's to the nights we felt alive
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
Here's to goodbye tomorrow's gonna come too soon

All my time is froze in motion
Can't I stay an hour or two or more
Don't let me let you go

Here's To The Night- Eve 6