V

It was a charade. It really was. Cuddy had talked her through it. This is what will happen, she'd said putting on her bossiest voice. You'll put on a nice dress and fix your makeup and then you'll join the rest of us at Armando's. And you'll smile and look pretty and you'll say goodbye to him and you'll never have to see him again for the rest of your life, ok?

She had no idea.

Cameron had almost handed in her resignation. Before.

Whilst House had been recovering from his operation Cameron had wondered if he really was ever going to come back. She'd wondered if she'd be offered his position. Or if Foreman would be.

And after she'd sent House that letter. Confessing her deepest darkest thoughts. Telling him how lonely she felt. How empty she was without him. How could she ever look him in the eye again after that? So, yes, she'd thought about moving on. Starting again somewhere else where she could make small, yet significant mistakes all over again, and not have some snarky guy remembering every move she made. It would have suited her.

But then for a second, when she'd seen House back in his old office, she'd felt such warmth for him, this grouchy old guy who was almost double her age and now only had one leg. It didn't matter. None of it did. He could still melt her like February snow with just a glance. How could she ever think about leaving him?

Then, the decision had been taken out of her hands.

Now, she stands in the shower letting the hot steamy water immerse her thoughts. She'd tried all day to avoid this leaving party. She wasn't hungry. She'd never be able to eat. Even worse when she knew she'd be sitting close to House. And the small talk? How do you make small talk with someone who knows you long to kiss them hard just below the ear and whisper their name in the dark?

"House, what are you doing here?"

Since he'd been back he hadn't ventured down to the labs, which was probably for the best as Cameron kept a safe distance in her own personal fortress.

He stepped carefully around her and lent against the counter. He used his hand to guide his leg across his other one. Casual poses were tricky with artificial limbs.

"So." He cleared his throat.

Cameron looked hard into the microscope and hoped that he'd get the message.

"You're coming tonight?"

"I don't think so." She said quietly. "I'm not in a party-party mood."

"Well," He reasoned. "If you love me…"

She froze. Her eyes widening with shock.

"…you'll want to say goodbye and treat me to a couple of Vodka Jello shots…" His voice softened. "And if you hate me it's a good chance to kick my ass as I'm waving you goodbye. So either way you win."

She braced herself. In what way had she won? She'd lost everything. He was moving away from her. She turned to savour his look. What his eyes did to her. Before too long she'd forget how his gaze felt and then one day she'd forget how to describe his eyes, their exact shade of blue. And then later, she'd forget him altogether.

"I…" She started, desperate to erase her previous thought.

"I read it." He said. He scanned her face. He was in pain.

She clasped her hands together. Like she was starting a prayer. She looked down at her entwined fingers. That letter. All her hopes and fears. "And?"

"And." He moved closer to her. His chin level with the top of her head. "And it was pathetic."

He breathed deeply into her hair. "I guess you were drunk."

"I was…"She shuddered as she felt his hand gently take her own. "But I meant it."

They stood like that for a minute or two. Her own chest rose and fell against his body. She gripped his hand like she might fall over if she let go.

"You were right," He rested his chin on her head and brought his hands tentatively around her body to hug her gently. "We are sad. We are damaged. Your differential is correct. And we deserve to not be alone."

His lips moved down to her ear: "Please don't be alone, Cameron."

She held him tightly. Didn't want to let go.

He moved her hands away and made for the door. He was flustered and confused. A flush had risen up his neck and around his ears.

"Why are you leaving?"

He looked from the door to the floor and back again but he couldn't turn around. "I just need to…"

"Please," she mouthed, cleared her throat and then louder: "Please, tell me it's because of the rain around here?"

He put his hand out to the door and pushed it open. "It is. It's all about the rain."