Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Don't get your panties all in a bunch about borrowing the characters and messing around with them either. I'll put them back when I'm done. Honest.

Title: Warm and Fuzzy

Author: DragonChaos

Feedback: Sure! Love to hear your thoughts.

Author's Note: Holy crap it's been forever since I've updated. Life has been keeping me on my toes and away from my muse it seems, but I really have been trying folks. My laptop upon which I keep most of my stories crapped out on me and I lost all of my data, including some other stories I'd been working on, so I lost a good deal of motivation for a while thanks to that. However, I'm now back in the saddle, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

I know it makes me giggle like a little school girl.

A big huge thank-you to all of my reviewers. I love hearing what you guys think, bad or good, and many of you gave me lots of encouragement in what we will now refer to as "The Dark Times". Thanks again, and please, by all means, keep it up!

Chapter Summary: Getting warmer…

Chapter Four: The Air-Speed Velocity of Snowflakes

"So, let me get this straight," Doctor James Wilson said with a smile in his voice. "You, the cynical old man who told her the only reason that she wanted to date you was to fix you, asked, no, blackmailed her into a date?"

"I'd thank you to not remind me of my age," House responded acridly.

"Then you admit to manipulating her?" Wilson was incredulous. "You know, she could sue you for sexual harassment."

"Oh, she won't sue me. She's Doctor Fricken' Cameron, AKA Patron Saint of Forgiveness and Niceness. She'll never sue anyone for anything because she'll always assume that whatever it was that went wrong or was bad was somehow her fault." House continued to limp down the corridor of PPTH to the exit, wishing he hadn't said a word of what happened that morning to his supposed "best friend", who of course was now squawking so loudly that the entire nursing staff would have gossip material for weeks, possibly months. "And will you shut up? Cuddy might hear you and…Aw crap."

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

House made a face at Wilson before he rounded on the approaching tell-tale heels and the woman wearing them.

"And where do you think you're going, House?" She asked loudly. Wilson had the decency to give him an apologetic look before shrugging and walking away, leaving House to fly the Whirlwind solo.

Oh, joy.

"Doctor Cuddy, I was just talking about you," House put on his best innocent face.

Well, okay, not his best innocent face. And maybe it wasn't even an innocent one.

"I'm sure they were all good things," Cuddy said as she gave him a pointed look before continuing. "It's 4:00pm. You're not off for another hour. You have clinic duty." She pushed a chart into his chest and stalked away, a smirk on plastered on her face.

Cuddy: 1, House: 0.

Time to even the score.

"Look, I know you haven't gotten any for a while, but you can at least stop taking it out on the rest of us!" House called after her retreating form. She didn't even falter. He was hoping for even the slightest pause in her step, but to no avail. The only response he got was the rolling of eyes at the nurse station, where his antics were too well-known to cause any shock factor to the staff.

Damn.

His only consolation prize was the mother gasping and covering her child's ears whilst giving him a "Thou'st art a worshipper of Satan!" look.

Well, if couldn't back at her verbally, he could do it another way. He looked down at his watch.

"4:03pm, Doctor House checks in," House told the nurse before setting the chart on the countertop. He stood there for about a minute before saying, "4:04pm, Doctor House checks out."

The mother who'd previously been shooting him daggers looked relieved upon his exiting the hospital, and little did she know it'd been her file he'd given back to the nurse.

If only she knew how lucky she was.

House, MD

Foreman and Cameron were in the lab running the tests on Foreman's suggestion of MS. The work was slow, as the machines doing the calculations were taking their sweet time analyzing the new round of samples. They were both bored, but neither was talking; Cameron because she didn't want to reveal anything about her encounter with House by accidentally saying something and Foreman because he didn't want to seem overbearing and protective.

However, Foreman's need to do what is right soon overcame his need to keep his nose out of something that wasn't his business.

"Has House been bothering you lately?" Foreman inquired casually, trying to hide his instinctive concern for Cameron. "He seems to be getting on your case a lot, lately."

"He's just being House, Foreman," she replied. "You don't need to beat him up on the playground after school or anything on my behalf." She gave him a knowing grin and Foreman hung his head for a moment before glancing back up at her.

"Look, I'm just making sure…"

"That I don't get hurt. I know. Relax. I'm a big girl. I can tie my own shoes and everything," she walked past him to the exit, pausing at the door.

"Where are…"

"I need to go home. I've had a long day. You can handle this by yourself, right Eric?" She smiled sweetly and left before he could answer.

Foreman looked around for a few seconds before he realized he'd been had. Damn those self-help books.

House, MD

Cameron took out her stress on her treadmill, her feet pounding into it menacingly, each step a way of her trying to stamp out her anger at herself. She'd made a promise to herself to not get swept up by the stormy winds of one moody Doctor Gregory House. She already knew what he really thought of her; naïve, needy, weak…Just to name a few.

But if all that were true, why would he ask her out now, after all this time?

Whatever he was planning, whatever tricks he had up his sleeve, she wasn't going to play into his hand again.

Cameron made a decision. If House wanted to manipulate her into a date, then she wasn't going to play by his rules.

House, MD

It was Wednesday, and it was eight o'clock at night.

Cameron stood outside House's door dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a peasant shirt, holding a plastic bag full of Chinese take-out. Thoughts were racing through her mind a mile a minute.

What if he isn't home, or is with another woman? What if he slams the door in my face?

She let out a shaky breath and brushed her long, auburn hair away from her face.

It doesn't matter if he slams the door or not. You are going to do this. Cameron, you are…

The door swung open.

In an automatic defensive motion, Cameron swiftly lifted the bag of food up so that it was between her and House like a paper and plastic shield.

House leant against the doorframe, eyeing her with a mix of animosity and interest, taking in the plastic bag she held in front of her, the wonderful smells emanating from it, and the fear in her eyes.

But there was something else waiting there in those green-blue depths.

Determination.

"What are you doing here?"

"Bringing you take-out, like I said I would," she said simply, her arm tiring from holding the sack between them.

"I said Friday," House replied, dipping his chin to his chest and narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, and we're still doing that. I, however, am hungry now, and when I told you that I was going to come back over, I didn't specify a date or time. So, here I am."

He folded his arms across his chest, his jaw working thoughtfully, ice blue eyes calculating.

Miaoow?

Cameron and House looked down simultaneously to see Mick sitting at House's feet, looking up at the stranger curiously with golden eyes.

"Wow, he's gotten big!" She said as she let her arm and the bag fall back to her side. She set it on the ground next to her and knelt down, extending her arm out once again. "Hello again, Mick." She raised her hands to the kitten's nose so he could sniff her, and he studied her for a few seconds before he began to lick her fingers and purr. She giggled slightly, but a 'harrumph' caught her attention and she looked up to see House glaring at her.

"Are you going to come in or are you going to make me stand out here all night?" He demanded with a scowl. She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face, so she tried to cover it by acting busy with her shoelaces.

"Is that an invitation?" She asked boldly. House was a little taken aback by the strength of her voice. Not the normal timidity that her tone usually carried, at least in these situations.

Instead of a response, he sighed loudly and stepped back, holding the door open for her and scooting the kitten back inside with his foot. Mick obliged with an abrupt Mew! and trotted back inside, Cameron following him inside quickly. She set the bag on the table and threw her coat onto the couch before turning her attention back to the take-out food. She heard the door close and House limping up behind her and felt him stop just inches from her.

She could feel the heat of his body he was so close, but she refused to turn around and play his game.

"Do you want lo mein or fried rice?" She asked, busying herself with opening the Chinese take-out boxes.

"Lo mein," he responded in a tone that Cameron swore was lilted with disappointment as he turned and shuffled off to the kitchen to get some plates. "What else did you get?"

"I brought…" She paused a moment and looked into the boxes. "Broccoli chicken, lo mein, pork fried rice, egg foo young, and sweet and sour pork. I wasn't sure what you liked, exactly, so I brought a bunch of different things." House didn't reply, but she heard him open and close a few cupboards and drawers before watching him limp back into the dining room holding two plates and two set of rather nice-looking chopsticks, much fancier than the pull-apart cheap ones that came with the food.

Mick chose that moment to jump up onto the table to inspect all the new delicious smells coming from the boxes. Cameron smiled at him and his curiosity, not in the least bit worried about his behavior, but House shooed him away and back down to the floor.

"He's too damn nosy. Gets into everything," House muttered under his breath, and Cameron couldn't stop the little twitch at the corners of her mouth.

Sucks when you're on the receiving end of that, eh, House?

"Oh, and for future reference, I hate egg foo young," he told her as he piled a little bit of from each of the boxes, except the fried rice and egg foo young, onto his plate.

Future reference?

She smirked at his attempt at subtlety.

"Well, that's good," she said lightly. "More for me, then." She dumped out a healthy amount of the egg patties onto her plate and little samplings of the other choices. She headed into the living room and plopped down onto his couch after setting her plate on the coffee table. "I brought the food, you pick the movie," she said as she gestured to his expansive DVD collection arranged haphazardly on some shelves next to the television.

"There are rules, now?" He asked as he placed his plate next to Cameron's and headed back into the kitchen.

"Well, I guess I could…"

"No, I better choose. You might pick something 'uber' girly and I would get cavities," House said with pseudo alarm in his voice, and Cameron merely rolled her eyes in response. He opened the refrigerator. "Beer?" He asked loudly as he ducked his head into the icebox.

"Sure," she called back as she began eating her food. He returned shortly with two open bottles of beer and grabbed a DVD from his collection. House popped it in the DVD drive, turned on the TV, and sat down heavily onto the couch. He handed one of the bottles to her and took a long swig of his own before setting it down on the coffee table. "So, what are we watching?"

"Just a little movie I like to call the "Holy Grail" of all movies," he told her dramatically. He grabbed the remote and clicked the 'play' button, starting the movie. It wasn't long before Cameron recognized the opening credits for Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail. She laughed and took a drink of her beer before settling in for a good time and getting comfortable. House had to smile at her enthusiasm.

It takes a special kind of person to appreciate the Monty Python humor.

Mick attempted to jump up onto the couch, but he only made it part way and was forced to climb the rest of the distance.

"I really hope he learns how to jump higher, soon," House muttered. "My couch can't take much more of this abuse." Cameron appeared to ignore his grousing, as she seemed completely engrossed by the movie. She even jumped in shock when Mick cautiously stepped onto her lap and began hunting around for the best place to curl up. She smiled softly at him as she began to stroke his soft kitten fur, scratching underneath his chin for good measure.

House once again caught himself staring at her and tried to look away, but it seemed impossible. It was like she had bewitched him; that look on her face, the one of utter adoration and peacefulness that she had currently directed at the kitten, held him spellbound. He watched, helpless, as his hand reached up underneath her chin and nudged ever so gently so that she was looking at him. He didn't really know why he did it; his brain was screaming at his hand to stop, but all he really knew was that right then, at that moment, he wanted her to look at him the same way she'd been looking at the cat a few seconds before.

Unfortunately, the peacefulness faded to confusion at his sudden strange behavior, and the adoration changed to apprehensiveness.

This, of course, was entirely the opposite reaction he'd wanted.

An argument about the air speed velocities of swallows played as background noise whilst House and Cameron stared at each other; she paralyzed by fear and he immobilized by indecisiveness.

A knock on the door saved them both.

House dropped his hand and got up so fast he had a slight head rush. In his effort to get away very quickly from a very awkward situation, he almost left his cane behind as he made his way to the door. Cameron remained rooted to the spot, seemingly dazed as she stared blankly at the television screen.

House's thoughts turned to the visitor on the other side of the door.

Whoever it was deserved a giant hug…

House flung open the door.

…Unless of course it was Wilson waiting on the other side, also holding a bag filled with take-out food.

Awkward situation, Round Two…Ding!

"Hey, I come bearing gifts of…" Wilson started to say before House slammed the door in his face. "…Ok…aaaay…." Wilson paused, startled by this odd behavior, before shouting, "House! Open the door! I have free food!"

"Go away, I'm not home!" Came House's muffled reply.

"I know that trick!" Wilson shouted back. He started banging on the door, but then he heard another voice so he paused to listen closer.

"What is going on?" A feminine voice asked concernedly. "You scared Mick when you slammed the door…"

"Just some bratty neighbor kid…" The deeper voice of House replied.

"House!" Wilson began beating the door with an open palm, and when the door swung open again he almost smacked Cameron on her forehead, but luckily she dodged the attack before contact was made. "D…Doctor Cameron?" Wilson immediately looked behind her to House for an explanation, but House was currently looking down at his feet, off to the side, anywhere but Wilson, so he was forced to settle with the shorter (and the more attractive, Wilson thought) brunette in front of him.

"Hi, Wilson," Cameron said sheepishly, a blush tingeing her fair cheeks.

"…Hi…" Wilson knew they were supposed to be going on a date, but… "What are you doing here?" He decided to resort to bluntness, seeing as how that was apparently how Cameron got her jollies and was most likely to respond positively.

"Um…I, uh…I was just leaving."

Well, so much for that positive response.

Cameron walked briskly back inside and grabbed her purse. In less than a minute, she was walking between the two men, both of whom were still standing in House's doorway. She muttered a quick goodnight and continued her swift retreat out the door and down the hall. She was moving so fast, House knew she was going to break into a run as soon as she felt she was out of his line sight. He kept his eyes on her form until she disappeared around a corner before he turned an icy stare at Wilson.

"Don't even try to blame me for that!" Wilson exclaimed.

"You scared her off," House growled as he turned around to head back into his apartment. He half-heartedly tried to shut the door in Wilson's face, but the younger doctor followed him anyway.

"You didn't try to stop her," Wilson retorted. "If you were really trying to 'get your groove on', I highly doubt you would have let that happen." House made no reply, and instead chose to ignore his friend. Wilson watched House's reactions to his words, and suddenly he was hit with an epiphany. "You let her go because you didn't want her here in the first place."

Silence. Wilson knew he'd hit the nail on the head.

"I thought you asked her out on a date?"

"I did." House turned abruptly and stalked towards the hutch where he kept his Scotch.

"But I thought it was for Friday?"

"It was."

"Then what was she…"

"She came over unannounced." House took a moment to send another chilling glare at Wilson via his reflection in the glass on the hutch cabinet door.

"Ahh, I can see clearly now, the rain is gone," Wilson quipped. "She ruined your plan, didn't she? Our little Cameron, all grown up." He sniffed and pretended to wipe away a tear for dramatic effect. House scoffed and poured himself a drink, keeping his back to Wilson as though to ward off any truths that might be forthcoming, as they usually were when they had these kinds of conversations. "So, are you still going to have that date on Friday?"

"What are you doing here? Is there a "bring House take-out" holiday I was unaware of? I say it's about damn time you brought your god some decent offerings. You measly mortals don't know the crap I have to put up with…"

"You didn't answer my question."

House took a sip of his scotch, enjoying the feeling of the thick, amber liquid burning its way down his throat.

"All right, fine," Wilson set down the food on the counter and made his way back to the door. "I just came by to warn you that Cuddy was slightly unhappy about your lack of clinic hours, and she was more than slightly unhappy about that little stunt you pulled today."

"Since when is she not unhappy about my lack of clinic hours? And since when do you not know how to use a phone?"

With one final hard look, Wilson opened the door and walked out, closing it quietly behind him.

Damn Wilson and his passive aggressive behavior.

House finally turned around to survey the damage. The Chinese food Cameron brought him was still sitting on the plates on the coffee table. The Thai food Wilson brought him was already getting cold, and was left sitting precariously on the ledge of his kitchen countertop. One bump from a certain overly curious kitten and House would no doubt have chicken curry all over his floor.

He took a large gulp of his scotch, emptying the glass, and then started putting the Chinese food away. At least he would have a decent lunch and dinner the next day.

He heard a soft thump and turned to see Mick padding across the living room floor over to the couch. House figured he'd been hiding up behind the piano and had finally deemed it safe to come back out.

"Scaredy cat," House grumbled. Mick didn't even bother to grace him with an indignant glance, however, as he seemed like he was fixed on his destination. He scrambled up onto the couch and curled up on what looked strangely like Cameron's coat.

Ah, hell.

House, MD

The snow fell softly on the cold December night, and it had immediately reminded Cameron of the article of clothing she'd accidentally left behind in House's apartment in her haste to leave.

Now, she sat in her car with the heat on full blast, but she had yet to drive anywhere.

Cameron wasn't sure why she was still sitting in her car in the parking lot of House's apartment complex, but she was sure that her excuse was a really lame one.

"Oh, House, I forgot my coat…Mind if I come in and get it?" She mocked herself out loud in a rather whiny voice.

In truth, she really did want to get her coat back, if only for the sake of avoiding him making a scene about it the next morning the in conference room

She could picture it now:

"Cameron, you left this over at my place last night," House would say loudly as he tossed her coat onto her lap. Foreman and Chase would both look at her strangely; Chase with a bit of jealousy and contempt and Foreman with a bit of disappointment. House would then of course laugh his ass off about the whole thing at her expense…

Wait a minute…

She squinted her eyes and wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her, but indeed what she was seeing was Wilson heading to his car. She slid down in her seat in the hopes that he wouldn't notice her and think that someone was just warming up their car or something. She was in luck; Wilson appeared to be upset about something and it seemed he wasn't in a very observational state. She watched carefully as he climbed into his car, started the ignition, and pulled out of his parking space at a rather alarming speed. Cameron raised her eyebrows.

Apparently, her leaving like that caused a few ripples.

When he was down the road a ways, she sat up straighter and gripped the steering wheel. Once again, she found herself struggling with her courage. She weighed her options.

On the one hand, she could drive home to the safety of her little abode and just settle for a little embarrassment the next morning. On the other hand, she could march her butt right back up there and ask for her coat back in a very professional and daring way, proving to House once and for all that she wasn't afraid of him.

Oh, but the first option sounds much easier…

She clenched the steering wheel one last time before taking her key out of the ignition and opening her door. She stepped out onto the snow and quietly crunched her way over to the entryway to the apartment building House lived in. She was about to walk up the steps to the doorway when she hear the glass door swing open with a squeak. She looked up quickly, startled, and saw House coming down the slippery steps very carefully, dressed in his overcoat and a scarf.

The other thing she noticed was her coat safely tucked under his arm.

House felt the hairs on the back of his neck perk up and he caught of whiff of perfume…

Her perfume.

His gaze shot up and immediately locked onto hers, and not for the first time that evening, he saw fear glittering in her eyes.

What was she so damned afraid of?

Since she appeared to have been struck dumb by his sudden appearance, he decided to speak:

"You left this in my apartment," he said gruffly as he held the coat out to her. She stared at it stupidly for a few moments and didn't respond. "Hello! Earth to Cameron!"

"Oh!" She jumped a little and reached out to take the coat. "Um, thanks…I was, um, coming back up to get it…"

"Yeah, I gathered that," he said tersely. She looked down at her shoes to avoid his piercing, chilling stare.

Cameron briefly wondered if there had once been a time when warmth had radiated from those beautiful eyes, rather than the cold hardness that she knew so well.

"People usually put coats on when it's snowing." Once again she started, but she nodded in acknowledgement and quickly went about putting her coat back on.

Snowflakes caught in her auburn hair glinted in the moonlight, giving her a small halo effect that made her pink cheeks look even softer.

House limped a step closer and she eyed him carefully, frozen to the spot.

"What are you so afraid of?" He asked abruptly. She was disconcerted by his ability to read her so well, but answered anyway.

"Falling for you again."

Another step.

"Is that why you needed space?" His emphasis on the word made her cringe.

"I was trying to figure out…"

House took one more step and there bodies were just inches apart. He could feel the heat emanating from her body even though she'd been without a coat in the freezing cold just moments before.

"Trying to figure out what?" He prompted.

"What you want from me." She finally pulled herself together enough to look him square in the eye, defying his next move.

"What I want…" House placed a cold, calloused hand on her warm, reddened cheek. "Is for you to not be afraid anymore."

She lent into his hand and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his palm against her skin. His thumb moved to caress her cheekbone and she opened her eyes at his affectionate gesture.

There, that look. It was the one he'd been craving since he saw her look at the kitten that way, since he'd seen her look at almost anyone that wasn't him that way.

House couldn't take it anymore, couldn't resist.

He shifted his weight onto his good leg and dropped his cane, freeing up his other hand to cup the back of her head. The rational voice in his head immediately stopped talking when his lips finally made contact with hers.

Cameron's lips were yielding, warm, and oh-so soft.

He knew she would be a good kisser…but damn.

House's tongue swept across her lips, a silent plea for more. Cameron obliged.

As the kiss deepened, it became more urgent, and she brought her hands up to run them through his already mussed-up hair. They found there way to the back of his head and she ran her nails down to where his occipital lobe meets the neck, making him shudder, before continuing the journey over his broad shoulders, finally coming to rest on his chest, gripping the wool fabric of his coat.

His hands roamed everywhere, first her neck and shoulders, then down her arms and sides, and he couldn't stop them from lightly squeezing her firm ass before forcing them to return to her hips and lower back.

The feel of his stubble scratching her cheeks and chin and nose sent chills up and down her spine and she was suddenly taken over by a single thought:

Please, don't ever shave, House…

Both of their bodies pressed closer to the other in the attempt to get as intimate as possible. Both of their bodies said the same thing:

Want. You. So. Much.

It was in this moment House's leg reminded him that he was indeed still standing on the ground and that he was definitely still crippled.

He gasped in pain and immediately grabbed his leg as it cramped. He stepped back from his also heavily breathing companion to sit down on the cold cement step to get some weight off of his offending leg.

Cameron's hand never left his shoulder.

She knelt down in front of him and picked up his cane from where he'd dropped it in the snow. House watched her every movement with a heated stare, the pain not nearly enough to make him forget how she'd felt in his arms mere seconds before.

"Here," she said quietly as she handed him his cane. They both said nothing for a few moments, until Cameron spoke up again, "I should probably go." She gave his shoulder a squeeze and turned away, heading for her car.

House cursed his leg and pushed himself up, limping after her, determined to not let his injury prevent him from having what he wanted.

"Cameron!" His voice seemed muffled by the snow, and she didn't turn to look at him. She made to her car and he sped up his hobbling, despite the twinge he felt with every step. "Allison!" She stopped all movements and watched as he approached. When he reached her, he grabbed her hand firmly, not allowing her to leave. "I…You..." He stammered, trying to catch his breath. "You're…Do you still want to do something Friday night?" She looked taken aback, but happily so.

Cameron nodded.

"Good, bring something nice to wear to the hospital, we'll leave from there," he told her. She smiled brightly at him and stood on her tip-toes to kiss him lightly before opening the door to her car and getting in. She started the ignition and pulled out quickly, leaving House standing in the falling snow.

A smile cracked his features as he watched her drive away.

House, MD

Down the street, in a brown sedan, a certain oncologist wondered if he could believe what he'd just seen, or what he was seeing, for that matter.

"House," Wilson said with a wicked grin. "You're so in for it, now."

House, MD

After a few minutes of standing outside, grinning like an idiot, House's adrenaline slowed down enough for him to realize a simple fact:

It was frickin' cold outside.

So, with great reluctance and a few vicodin in his system, he made his way back up to his apartment. When he opened the door, the place smelled suspiciously of curry and chicken…

House spied the source on the floor just beneath the counter. There lay a heap of plastic bag, paper bag, napkins, and chicken curry, with the curry sauce still dripping from the opened containers. There were little tiny teeth marks on the edges of the boxes' openings, and House glanced around quickly for the culprit.

There, sitting on House's piano bench, licking his chops and staring right back at House, was one black and white kitten that didn't even have the decency to look guilty.

"You, my friend, are lucky I'm in a very good mood."