Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: I am so sorry about the delay in getting this chapter posted. There really is no excuse, so I won't try to make one. My muse informs me she enjoyed her vacation. The good news is that chapter 10 has been written and will be posted within a week. With the start of a new semester, Melissa and I are very busy. I could post the unbeta'd versions of chapters as soon as I finish them, but, trust me, you wouldn't want to read them. Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 8!

A/N: Thanks to Pandorama and Melissa for beta'ing. Pandorama, tell the fluffulpuffball that I say hi. Melissa, don't die from work.

It wasn't the first time she'd woken up screaming. She felt the sweat drenching her hair and neck as she pulled herself shakily into a sitting position. Breathing heavily, she stared at the dark wall and tried to clear her mind of the nightmare, but the images kept coming back: bullets racing toward her, Mary falling to the ground, her eyes wide and accusatory before they lost their light –

Don't think about it, Cameron steeled herself, but she couldn't help but rub her wrist. She was taking pain killers, but her wrist was still very painful and sore. She hadn't been able to work in the clinic since the atta – incident – but she hoped to be back soon. She didn't like sitting around doing nothing, and she especially disliked sitting around doing nothing while House was still at the clinic.

It frustrated her to no end that he had been at the clinic in the first place, but it was downright intolerable that he still hadn't left. From what Weiss had told her, House had been sent to the same conference in Cape Town, and he'd insisted on coming back to the clinic after Weiss had heard about the…incident. A small smile tugged at her lips as she recounted Weiss telling her about how House had gone ballistic after he'd seen them kissing. That was typical House, being jealous of whatever he couldn't have, no matter how much he hadn't wanted it when he could have had it…

"Got tired of counting gazelles?"

Her head bolted up from where it had been resting on her knees. She couldn't see the face of who had spoken, but the shadow of a cane on the wall told her it must have been House. Silently cursing her luck, she didn't respond, but waited for him to step closer to the bed.

He did, but not without saying something else. "Where's Danny Boy tonight?"

"Night shift," she answered. She sighed. "What are you doing here, House?"

"I heard you screaming. It didn't sound like the fun kind."

She felt a mix of frustration and embarrassment. Couldn't she at least have nightmares in peace? Shame entered the mix. She didn't like the thought of him listening to her, worrying about her well-being –

Oh, wait. He wasn't worried. He was just interested.

He had reached the bed by now. Without waiting for her approval or an invitation, he sat down. She continued to stare at her knees, considering her wrist, tightly wrapped in an ACE bandage. She wished it would stop aching.

"Take this," he said quietly. She looked up, confused.

"What?"

He was offering her his bottle of Vicodin. Her eyes moved from the bottle to his outstretched palm, where the white pill lay. She shook her head. "I've already had some Motrin."

"Are you trying to get rid of menstrual cramps, or do you actually have a sprained wrist?" he scoffed. "Besides, they never tell you how much you're really supposed to take." She continued to shake her head, causing him to sigh in exasperation. "Honestly, Cameron, do you get off on masochism?"

"I've already had 600."

"That's nothing compared to this stuff." She just looked at him. "Here," he said, reaching over to retrieve the water bottle on her nightstand for her. He handed it to her. "Now open up the tunnel, here comes the train!"

She turned away from him as he tried to push the pill into her mouth. "No, House!" she said firmly. "I don't need more, especially not of this. If you're so generous with your pills, give them to someone in the clinic tomorrow."

He rolled his eyes. "See, that's the great thing about being from the first world. We don't have to worry our pretty heads with this 'moderation' thing. So stop whining already and - say it with me - supersize me, captain!" He grabbed her wrist, causing her to cry out in pain. He took advantage of her open mouth to place the pill onto her tongue. While her eyes watered, he tilted her head back, poured some water into her mouth, brought her head level again, and clamped his hand over her lips. She had no choice but to swallow.

He released her as soon as she had. Gasping, she pulled her wrist protectively toward her chest with her good hand. "Don't ever do that again," she snapped.

He just shrugged. "No happy, no meal, no toy."

"I don't want a toy!" she snapped. "I just want you to leave."

"Sorry, can't do that," he said. "Saturday night stay-over – you know how the airlines love to price-discriminate. You're stuck with me for another two days. Cuddy was trying to be frugal."

She groaned in frustration. "At least leave the room," she told him. "I'm tired."

"Yes, running away does tend to tire one out."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you. Running away from Princeton. And then you got bored at your job in Philly, and ran away to Africa. You know, with all that running, it's no wonder you fell and broke your wrist."

She looked at him angrily. "I didn't break my wrist, I sprained it. And I never ran away," she told him sharply. "I was offered a job by Weiss to come to Khayelitsha for two months. I talked to Yule and he told me I could go. I'm not running anywhere; I'm going back to Yule in a month."

"You still ran away. You ran away from Princeton."

"I left my job for something better. I hardly call that running away." She felt her frustration building. She really was tired, and even with the Vicodin, her wrist was still very painful. Holding it gingerly, she turned away from House again.

Cameron felt her head being turned back toward House almost immediately. Before she could open her mouth to reprimand, he brought his lips firmly to hers.

She pulled back instantly. "What the hell are you doing?" she yelled. "Get away from me!"

He just raised his eyebrows at her. "You said you didn't want a toy. I thought I'd give you a prize instead."

She pointed to the door. "Leave."

"Oh, grow up, Cameron. It's just a little smooch. Besides, just because you're on a diet, doesn't mean you can't look at the menu. And I happen to be very appetizing. You should try my secret sauce."

"Get the hell out of my room."

House didn't even move. "I don't understand you. You know that's what you wanted, and you left because I wouldn't give it to you. Now I'm giving it to you. You shouldn't be banishing me from the room; you should be jumping up and down skipping in a circle to 'Zipadee-doo-dah.'"

She was shaking again, but this time with anger. "I could never love a bastard like you."

"At least I'm not a eunuch…unlike some people."

"Right," she said tonelessly.

"No, I'm serious," he insisted. "Have you seen what's between ol' Danny Boy's legs? No way he's got anything worthwhile down there."

This time she felt her anger boiling over. Without stopping to think of the consequences, she raised her good hand and slapped House across the face.

He didn't recoil, but he didn't hit back either. He just stared at her, slightly dumbfounded, barely hurt, but mostly surprised. His eyes widened, but otherwise, there was no indication he had been slapped at all. Without taking his eyes off hers, he slowly slid to the edge of the bed, and stood up. Then he turned on his heel and was gone.

A/N: Please review! I'll be back with another chapter within a week.