A/N: I just couldn't stop writing this chapter. It is very rough, but I wanted it to get to you guys before a year went by without me updating. I had stuff to write, and I did, and I didn't get a chance to do much more than that. So forgive mistakes, and know that I intend to elaborate, edit, cut, rework, blah, blah...

And btw, my hormones/emotions are a little haywire...so be nice in the reviews...because I'll cry if you're mean...and then House might die in the next chapter...and then you'll be sorry

At one time or another, all men need a little push, or pull, in the right direction.

Week 2:

He surprised her Monday morning. When she hung up her jacket and sat down to go through her mail, she noticed something sticking out from under her mouse pad. It was a ticket. To a play.

She flipped it over, and his familiar scrawl he had written- I'll pick you up at 7:00. She peeked over her desk and into his office, but he wasn't there.

He still wasn't there when Foreman and Chase wandered in later. And while she and the boys spent most of the morning perusing patients' files for cases that might interest House, he still didn't show.

Finally Cameron stood up and sighed. "If he isn't coming and we aren't doing anything, I'm leaving. Page me if you need me."

"Well if you're leaving," Chase piped up, "You wanna grab some lunch?"

"No, I'm not hungry. You guys go...I've got somewhere to be." She left the office and headed down to the children's ward.

Most of the kids here had families who visited them every day. There were balloons and teddy bears in pretty much every room. But one little boy rarely had any visitors. When Peter's foster mom did visit, she was usually in a rush and just checking that he had everything he needed or dropping off a toy or book for him.

So Cameron spent some of her lunches so physically drained from the chemo treatments. He always brightened though when she showed up.

"Hi, Pete!" She slid the glass door closed behind her.

He sat up and smiled. "Hey Dr. Ally!"

She opened up his blinds to let in the sunlight. "How are you feeling today?"

He shrugged. "I'm a little tired."

She felt his forehead. "Did you take a nap today?"

"Nope."

"Well, how about a before naptime story?"

His eyes lit up. "Can we read Peter Pan?"

"Sure. Do you remember what chapter we were on?"

"Uh huh," he mumbled, reaching under his pillow to pull out his copy of JM Barrie's Peter Pan, "Chapter five." Cameron had surprised him with it for his birthday last month.

"Alright, scootch over."

He did, and she settled down next to him. "Chapter five..." she skimmed through the pages. "Here it is. Chapter five, The Island Come True. Feeling that Peter was on his way back, the Neverland had again woke into life. We ought to use the pluperfect and say wakened, but woke is better and was always used by Peter..."

The little boy snuggled next to her, reading over her shoulder, trying to keep up with the words.

Wilson eventually found House, quite by accident, too, because he never actually thought to check in the clinic.

He found him with a patient, and too surprised to apologize for barging in, awkwardly asked where he had been.

"Working. Apparently that's what they pay me for."

"That's never convinced you to do anything before."

"Oh you're just jealous that I saved more lives than you last week. He turned to the patient. "Congratulations. You are officially the last person I have patience for today. You have strep. Go home and stop breathing on me."

He limped out of the exam room, and Wilson followed.

"Cuddy's been looking for you, which means she doesn't know you're here, which means she didn't drag you kicking and screaming to the clinic, which means you're here on your own. Doesn't that mean that the earth has started spinning the other way?"

"Once about every ten years I put in a good day's work, just to keep them guessing."

Wilson smiled. "Wow. It must have been a really good night."

House stopped dead in his tracks and turned. Not wanting to tip his hand, he simply said, "I don't have any idea what you're talking about

"I thought you said the Cameron phase was over."

"Yeah, well, she asked me out, and I didn't want to be rude. She's such a nice ass...I mean girl."

"Right, it meant nothing. That's why you hid it from me. Please. This was a big deal." He paused, then suspiciously added, "Did you sleep with her?"

"That's none of your business. But no." House should have expected this. Wilson had never mentioned walking in on the two of them That Day, until now.

Wilson considered him for a moment. "Come on. I want to show you something," and he wandered off, leaving House to follow.

The two took the elevator to the third floor. Once there, House followed Wilson to the most cheerfully depressing part of the hospital. He avoided it when he could. Not only were children everywhere, but the decor was nauseatingly colorful. Bizarre murals of animals and rainbows adorned every wall, old books and toys in every room.

Wilson stopped outside of one particular room, peering in, but remaining unseen by anyone in the room. House followed his gaze to the other side of the glass, and stared.

There was Cameron, or should he say, Saint Allison, mother to the world. A little guy, no more than five or six, was curled up against her, while she read from the book in her lap. He looked sick. And tired. Too tired for any child to look.

Wilson spoke and broke him out of his daydream. "She's the best you're going find out there, you know. If you're holding out for someone better, you're wasting your time. She's the kind of woman who you could build a life with. And not end up divorced a year later." He sighed, "believe me, I know."

House said nothing. It was all true. No matter how much he teased and berated her for her optimistic naivete, he knew she was special, and that he was a lucky man for her to have given him even a second glance.

"Plus there's the added bonus of her actually not thinking you're a bastard."

"There is that."

Inside the room, Cameron shut the book and slid it under the little boy's pillow. He crawled under the blankets and snuggled into bed as she turned off the florescent light and closed his shades. She smoothed his hair and said her goodbyes, as Wilson made his escape, before throwing over his shoulder, "Just don't screw this up, okay?"

House gave a resigned nod. Just as Wilson disappeared around the corner, Cameron softly closed the door behind her. When she noticed him, she was visibly surprised.

"House. Where have you been all day?"

"Oh you wouldn't believe me if I told you." He nodded toward the room she had just left. "Who's the kid?"

She looked over her shoulder sadly. "Leukemia patient, recovering, but slowly. He's a foster kid, never really gets any visitors. He's been here for a couple months."

"So you took him under your wing."

She shrugged, embarrassed. "I drop in to say hi sometimes."

He looked up and down the hallway, and seeing no one paying any attention to them, stepped closer to her.

"Thursday?"

She nodded, taking another unconscious step in his direction, "I'm free." She smiled. "I'm very proud of you, Dr. House. You actually asked me out without being bribed."

A hint of a smile darted across his mouth. She found herself staring at it, and she bit her own bottom lip, remembering their kiss.

"Maybe we should get back."

She smiled. "Yeah."

Neither moved.

"As fun as making out in an empty room would be, I really do think we should get back."

She sighed, and stuck her hands in her coat pockets. "Fine," she pouted.

He did smile then. "Come on."

Thursday brought thunderstorms. Sheets of rain fell outside Cameron's window, and inside, she sat by candlelight, painting her toes.

The power had gone out in her building a few hours ago, and she silently thanked god she hadn't gone grocery shopping lately. So after downing two chunky monkey milkshakes, she tossed everything perishable in her fridge and started to get ready for her date.

She skipped a shower, mildly afraid of being electrocuted and found naked, dead and soapy by House. As an afterthought, she changed her sheets and straightened up her apartment, sticking her treadmill under her bed and sticking candles around the rooms, ready to be lit, should she have an unexpected guest.

She settled on jeans, but paired it with a lacy red camisole top and a black jacket. She looked hot, but not overly primped.

A little after 7:00, she heard a honk and rolled her eyes. It's not like she wanted him to come out in the rain and knock on her door just to be traditional, but still. She pulled on her coat and grabbed her purse and umbrella, making sure their tickets were safely in her pocket before blowing out the last candle and flicking on her flashlight to navigate the dark hallway.

Once outside, she groaned at the humidity. 'Stupid New Jersey weather,' she thought. She popped up her umbrella for the quick sprint to the car, absolutely unwilling to look like a wet dog when he saw her.

Safely inside the car, she slammed the door behind her and turned smiling at the driver.

"We're going to need a canoe out there soon."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Only you could be cheerful about weather like this."

"My building lost power, are you sure the show wasn't cancelled?"

"Yep. Just called. The school has generators."

As they drove, she scanned the radio for something to listen to.

"No no no. I don't listen to static and commercials. Here." He tossed his iPod onto her lap unceremoniously.

She scrolled through the artists, then smiled. "Puccini?"

He shrugged. She plugged it in and flipped on a track from Madama Butterfly. She surprised him by humming along softly.

"An opera buff? I pictured you as more of an Enya freak."

She wrinkled her nose in mild disgust. "Nah." She was quiet for a minute, then added. "That's something that you can't find in my file. I didn't always want to be a doctor."

He considered her for a moment. "Music?"

"Um hmm."

"What did you play?"

She didn't answer right away. She seemed lost in thought. "I sang."

He glanced over at her, where she was gazing out the window, lazily twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

"So what happened?"

"Oh you know. I had to face facts. I was a better scientist than singer. I'd probably be a starving soprano somewhere in the village if I hadn't changed my mind."

Through the car's sound system, Pinkerton joined in a beautiful duet with Butterfly. House imagined Cameron on stage, made up beautifully, singing to a handsome tenor, adored by everyone who heard her. Somehow, that seemed like a better fit than spending her best years in a degrading position with him as her boss. Well, to each her own.

"So," she piped in cheerily, trying to change the subject. "What have you heard about this play?"

If someone had asked her what the play was even about, she'd probably only be able to mumble out the synopsis. She couldn't concentrate on anything but him. Her mind was too full. He looked too good.

When they pulled up in front of her building, a huge bolt of lightning tore through the sky and thunder shook the ground.

"Oh no. You are definitely not driving home in this. Come on. I'd offer you coffee..."

"Allison. If you want me to keep you company during the big scary storm, you just have to ask."

"You cannot drive home in this rain. If you don't hydroplane off the road, you'll probably be hit by a falling tree. I wouldn't tempt fate."

He peered out of the window, looking suspiciously at the power lines above them. He sighed. "Where do you want me to park?"

"Around back."

Once parked, he surprised her with a touching act of chivalry, bringing her umbrella around to her side of the car.

The whole block must have lost power. There were no streetlights on, no electric glows from inside windows. Cameron stuck her flashlight under her arm while she fumbled to unlock the door.

Inside, Cameron surprised him by passing the door to the stairs.

"The elevator will be out, you know."

She looked confused for a moment, then said "We don't have elevators. Oh. Right I changed apartments. I'm down here now. I've been waiting for the guy in the corner apartment to leave for months." What she left out, what she'd never mention, is that she'd been waiting for that apartment for as long as she knew House wasn't just a crush. She wasn't going to let him visit her in a third floor walk up.

"Come on. I'm right around the corner."

He shook off her umbrella and followed her inside. Without thinking, she flipped on the light switch. She shined the flashlight around her kitchen, looking for a box of matches, then she lit the candles along her kitchen counter.

"Let me have your jacket, I'll hang it up for you."

In the candlelight, he looked lost standing at the doorway. She smiled. "Would you try to look like it doesn't hurt to be here."

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "What can I do?"

"Umm..." She looked around. "Oh. The fireplace. There's a lighter right in front, just...light the kindling, It's already set up."

"Am I paying you too much?"

She chuckled. "All the corner apartments have them, but this one's the biggest." She kicked off her shoes and took them to her room. "I bribed my landlord to give it to me before my neighbor, even though he's been here much longer," she called in from her room. She pulled off her jacket and ran a comb through her hair. "He's a romance novelist. He does a lot of late night research. It was the last time I was gonna lose a night's sleep."

House grinned from the couch. "That's my girl."

She padded into the room, barefoot. Small flames were whipping around the logs in her fireplace. House lounged on the plush white sofa.

"Wine?"

He nodded, amused at her fluttering around the room, keeping busy. He got up and snuck up behind her as she poured two glasses of wine by the candlelight in her kitchen. He wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his hand on her stomach, sneaking his thumb under the silk of her top. He bent his head and kissed her bare shoulder.

"Greg." She closed her eyes and breathed his name as softly as a sigh. She turned in his arms to face him. "Kiss me."

He obliged. He kissed her hard, unyielding and forceful. It made her knees weak. When he did come up for air, she laughed softly.

"You know, I really just didn't want you to drive home."

"Uh huh. That's why you put candles everywhere. Set up a romantic fire." He left a trail of kisses down the side of her neck. "You minx."

"My power was out!" She protested weakly.

"And why did you put your best sheets on your bed?"

"How did you..." He gave her an amused look. "You jerk."

"Yeah, yeah." He caught her lips again.

She could kiss him for hours. He was just forceful enough, just gentle enough, to make her melt. She was hyper-aware of her body, his hands at her waist, his thumb sneaking under her shirt, his knee gently pressed between her legs. He finally broke for air, resting his forehead on hers as she sighed contentedly. Silently, she handed him a glass of wine and slinking hers against his, a smile playing on her lips. She took him by the hand and tugged him toward the fire.

He kissed her again. "Thanks for inviting me to your sleepover Dr. Cameron. I'm a having a super time."

She smiled. "Hold on. I'll be right back." She disappeared into her room and came back, arms laden with pillows, which she tossed on the floor and disappeared again to get two gigantic comforters. As she spread them out on the carpet, she said, "when I was little, every time my dad made a fire, I would fall asleep on the floor in our living room." She shrugged, self consciously. "I'd always want to toast marshmallows, but my mother said I'd get too sugared up and never go to sleep."

"She was probably right," he lowered himself down onto the heap of blankets and pillows on the floor, "but you're a grown up now. I won't tell anyone if you break out the marshmallows."

She laughed. "You know, I might have some somewhere." She wandered off into her kitchen in search.

Meanwhile, House got comfortable. He lay down with his head in his hands, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't remember a single time in his whole life he had ever thought of the woman he was seeing as sweet. Stacy had been sexy, and exciting, but never sweet. In fact, sexy and exciting had kind of been his MO, until this sweet little brunette with a heart three sizes too big. Maybe there was room enough for him.

"Ah ha!" Came her happy exclamation from the next room. "Found 'em!"

He let the slightest of smiles escape his lips, but just a tiny one.

Cameron came back with a bag, two shish kabob skewers and the rest of the bottle of wine. House up-ended the rest of his glass and held it out to her. "Free refills?"

She smiled and poured him another before filling hers back up too. She sat down and crossed her legs, ripping open the bag and pulling out two marshmallows. She handed him one stick and took the other for herself. "God, I haven't done this in years."

"Really? Wilson and I did this just last weekend. Told scary stories and everything."

She rolled her eyes at him and stuck her marshmallow in the fire, turning it just above the flame. House unceremoniously stuck his right into the flame, letting it catch fire and burn for a second or two before he blew it out.

Cameron watch incredulously. "House! That was the worst marshmallow toasting I've ever seen."

"Of course. I should have figured you to be the just-barely-scorched type." He poked his to test it before popping it into his mouth. "Perfectionist."

"Impatient child." She threw back, pulling her perfectly browned marshmallow out of the heat and blowing on it to cool it down.

He took a sip of his wine and considered her. "So you sang..."

She shrugged. "Mostly in high school. I got kind of...busy in college." She rolled her eyes. "I think my parents would have freaked if I had done it professionally." She laughed, sipped her wine and put her glass down by the fireplace. "What about you? You seem like the band geek type."

He groaned and closed his eyes. "Please don't say that."

She giggled, "No, really. I'll bet you had weird hair and everything."

He grabbed her around the waist and yanked her onto of him. "Take it back."

She laughed at him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, gliding her fingers into his hair and hugging him close. "No need to get so defensive Dr. House. Band geeks were way cooler in high school than we gave them credit for. It's okay to admit it."

He kissed her, half to shut her up, half because she was so close that he had to do something. He pulled away long enough to add, "I prefer introspective, brooding pianist."

She smiled against his lips. "Yeah, that does sound sexier."

He kissed her again, tasting sugar and wine. She moaned and bit his lip when he pulled her closer, if possible.

They took turns shedding their cloths, taking their time, making sure not a single inch of skin was left untouched. He liked going commando, she learned quite unexpectedly, and later she would realize she completely forgot to ask if his leg was alright. He didn't seem to mind.

They made love, on the floor, in a thunderstorm. She should have expected him to be unrelenting, and he certainly was. And he should have known she would tease him mercilessly, prolonging the sweet torture of her touch. They vied for control, each trying to outdo the other, a competition in who could make the other feel more alive. They should have expected that they would collide with the same friction that they always had.

She never went to sleep. She should have, she still had to work in the morning, but she couldn't will herself to close her eyes, even for a moment. He lay spent, tangled in her sheets, and she wouldn't miss the view for the world.