Chapter four includes a touching moment between Cam and Wilson. And House surprises Cam with an incentive. Not my best chapter, but bear with me, it will get better. Once again, I do not own House. This story is a product of my imagination.

Cameron pulled the comforter up to her chin. A moment later she kicked it to the end of the bed. Restless, she sat up, fluffed her pillow, and tried to get comfortable.

She counted sheep, and when that didn't work, tried listing infectious diseases in alphabetical order. It was no use. Insomnia was her best friend tonight and needed company.

Sighing, she gave up and went to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass, she filled it with ice cubes, followed by a healthy splash of tea. Taking her drink into the living room, she sat down on her favourite chair.

"Damn him!" she muttered in frustration, and wondered, for the millionth time, how she had gotten in so deep. "Why can't he just take NO for an answer?"

The VCR supplied the only light as Cameron sipped her tea in silence and replayed the evening for the hundredth time.

Cameron had made her point very clear over dinner. She cited fraternization. She even brought up Cuddy. She had made her argument. Or so she thought.

House, of course, had the last word.

"Steve wanted me to give you this." He handed her the envelope, all the while never taking his eyes off her face.

Nervously, Cameron opened the packet. Obviously taken aback, she pulled out a ticket and pass. "Grave-Digger?" Her tone was surprise and weariness.

"Since Steve is under the weather and won't be able to attend, he gave me his ticket. I figured you enjoyed the last one."

Cameron fingered the pass. Her heart caught in her throat. "Why not ask Wilson?"

House, not sure what to do with his hands, began cutting his steak. "Wilson isn't helping Steve."

"He is your friend."

House poured a little more steak sauce on his plate. "Who stood me up last time. No way will I give him a chance to dash my hopes again."

Cameron sighed. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why aren't you eating?"

"You think this will convince me to take care of Steve?"

House's eyebrow curved upward. "Has it?"

"You're trying to manipulate me."

House grimaced. "Manipulate is such a strong word. Convincing is...much more appropriate."

Cameron placed the items back in the envelope. "Could I have a day to think about this?"

"Steve's life could be in jeopardy."

"Okay, here is the deal; you give me a day to think about this, or you contact a vet."

Of course House agreed, Cameron thought mirthlessly. He had no choice. Still he held all the cards and knew that she couldn't let an animal die---much less a rat.

Finishing her drink, Cameron looked at the clock. 5:30 am. She sighed. Only a half hour before she usually woke up. She took her glass to the kitchen, and then headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

The shower did nothing to help her decision. She had to give House an answer.

Dressing quickly, Cameron filled her coffee travel mug, grabbed her purse and keys, and left for work.

By the time she pulled up to PPTH, Cameron desperately needed someone to talk to. And who would know House better than Wilson? Glancing at her watch, she noticed that it was only seven-thirty. She could only hope he was in this early.

Knocking on the door, she waited until she heard: "Come in." Cautiously she turned the handle and entered.

"Dr. Cameron!" Wilson's tone was full of surprise and wonder. "Ah, good morning." He stood up to greet her. "Have a seat."

Cameron sat on the chair opposite Wilson's desk. Realising that her hands were shaking and the covering was leather, she placed her mug on the desktop.

"I need someone to talk to."

Wilson sat back down. "I'll do my best. Is this about a patient?"

"It's about House."

Wilson let out a deep breath and shifted his weight. "Uh, Cameron, I have to let you know that I am an oncologist, not a therapist."

Cameron gave a small chuckle. "At least we are in agreement that House needs therapy---minus the happy pills."

Wilson glanced at Cameron's mug. "Mind if I top that off for you?"

Cameron handed over the mug. "Go ahead."

"Sugar?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Here."

Cameron took the mug and sipped the hot liquid cautiously. The beverage overwhelmed her taste buds and rejuvenated her energy. "Mmmm, this is good."

"Thanks."

An uncomfortable silence followed.

"What did House do?"

"It's not what House has done; it's what he wants to do."

Wilson eyed her with surprise.

"It has to do with Steve McQueen."

"His rat?" Wilson sat back down.

"House asked me to come over to help get a skin biopsy off of Steve. Since I have a knowledge of rats, I took it upon myself to diagnose Steve. And I think I took advantage of him."

"Steve?"

"House."

Intrigued, Wilson leaned back in his chair. "This I have to hear."

"After I checked out Steve, I threw House's jacket at him and forced him to go out to dinner. Yesterday, I got the biopsy results back. Steve has tapeworm. House offered to take me out to lunch. I was busy. He took me to dinner and tried to get me to take care of Steve. I told him that I could find a good vet. He won't hear it."

"And you told him---"

"I told him it would be unethical. He is my boss. House just won't take no for an answer."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"Sounds like House. This surprises you?"

Cameron took a long sip of her coffee. "Not really. But last night really took the cake. Over dinner, House handed me this." Cameron pulled the envelope from her purse. Handing it to Wilson, she waited for his reaction.

"Grave-Digger." Wilson closed the envelope and handed it back. "I see."

"House says it's a down payment for taking care of Steve."

"And you said?"

"I would think about it." Cameron sighed. "That's all I've been doing. I've been up since four thirty."

Wilson stood up. "Let me get you some more coffee."

"I don't get it. He tells me he doesn't like me, then he tries like hell to get me to take care of Steve. When I think he might have a clue, he goes and does something that make it impossible for me to say no."

Wilson handed back Cameron's mug. "What's your plan?"

"How long should I make him sweat?"

"How soon should Steve start treatment?"

"Twenty-four hours."

"You have your answer."

Cameron handed the envelope back to Wilson. "You want my ticket and pass? I feel bad. You are his best friend."

"Nah, he doesn't want me to go; he likes me."

Cameron placed the envelope back in her purse, grabbed the mug, and stood up. Wilson did likewise.

"Thanks for the talk. See you later Wilson."

Wilson nodded. "Dr Cameron."

The door closed with a click.

Sitting down, Wilson leaned back and clasped his fingers behind his head. Letting his breath out in a long sigh, Wilson stared up at the ceiling. And then he smiled.