A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews, they make my day! Sorry this update has been so long, I've been busy…

Chapter 10

Cameron wore a look of extreme concentration, her eyes steadily gazing through the lenses of her glasses. She typed sporadically as she glanced to and from her notes, pausing only to sip from the cup of coffee on the table beside her.

She jumped as she felt a pair of arms stretch out over her shoulders from behind, encircling her, and relaxed into their familiarity as Thirteen kissed the side of her face.

"You're up early," Thirteen spoke into her hair as she kissed her neck tenderly.

"I know," Cameron laughed lightly at the sensation, goosebumps appearing on her skin, "I had to get same work done. I'm almost finished though."

"Good," Thirteen replied, "because you know what today is, don't you?"

Cameron turned in Thirteen's arms to look at her. "What's today?" she asked.

Thirteen smiled mischievously. "Today is decorating day."

Cameron grinned, leaning backwards to gain a better perspective. "Which explains why you're wearing…"

"Yeah," Thirteen laughed. They both looked downwards, their eyes taking in the sight of Thirteen dressed only in an oversized white shirt and panties, and nothing more.

"I think we should do this more often," Cameron said earnestly.

"Hmm, I don't know," Thirteen looked serious for a moment, "I seem to be the only one upholding my end of the bargain."

"That can all change," Cameron replied, her eyes twinkling.

"Yeah?" Thirteen asked. "Okay, but we'd better put some clothes on first because we have to go and buy some paint."

"Ah, we would need paint, wouldn't we?" Cameron said, her eyes still on Thirteen's legs.

"Definitely," Thirteen replied, still smiling as she walked away into the bedroom.

"Can't we go… in a minute?" Cameron called after her, getting up out of her seat.

"No." Thirteen's voice responded, muffled by the distance.

"Is there a difference between Vanilla White and Chiffon Silk?" Cameron asked, perplexed, holding a sample of each.

Thirteen looked at her.

"What?" Cameron asked, the smile slipping quickly from her face.

Thirteen's eyes were bright but her expression serious; Cameron though it a revelatory look, as if she'd just discovered something for the first time.

"I never thought I would have all of this," Thirteen said softly.

"Paint samples?" Cameron asked lightly, knowing what she meant.

"You. Everything. A life worth having." Thirteen's eyes shone with a kind of fervour, a light. She felt as if she had been in a dark place, yet the hope found there was more poignant than hope found anywhere else. It was that much more bruising, that much more wounding. She understood what writers and poets had mused over for centuries. The infinite, beautiful pain in love; in a completeness of being; including all its roughness and imperfection. There was no stopping it. She had tried to cut love out of her life and had found it in the most unexpected of places.

"Neither did I," Cameron stated gently.

"You know, I never thought it was for me, I didn't think I was one of those people who would ever have this."

"I know," Cameron replied, reaching out and squeezing her hand, "but you do. The one thing about life is that it never fails to surprise."

"Yeah, I guess it does."

Thirteen thought back to the time when she had told House that if you ran out of questions, you ran out of hope. She had been wrong, she realised. If you ran out of questions, you kept making more, and answering more; and it was impossible to run out of hope because there were an endless number of questions out there, an endless number of possibilities. Always a new horizon; and life threw at you chances whether you asked for them or not.

"Okay, so which one do you want?" Cameron asked, breaking her reverie.

"I think… I want yellow."

Cameron looked a little surprised, "Yellow?"

"Definitely," Thirteen replied.

"Okay, but which one?" Cameron sighed, pointing at a dozen shades of yellow.

They paid at the checkout, stealing glances at each other, as they still did when in front of others. Neither was yet familiar with each other in public, as comfortable as they were privately in each other's presence. They both felt the excitement of it, with their secret now revealed. They held hands and smiled at the lady at the checkout, who was evidently trying to suppress a grin.

They loaded the car with their purchases, the paint pots and brushes, and began the drive back to Thirteen's apartment. Thirteen parked the car and refused to let Cameron carry the paint. She was sufficiently amused at Cameron opening every door for her in a most un-Cameron like manner.

Dropping the bags on the floor of the apartment, they just stared around at the room, and then at each other.

"Where do we begin?" Thirteen asked.

"Okay, so we put the sheets over the sofa and floor. But first we have to move the sofa into the middle of the room, right?" Cameron suggested.

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Thirteen laughed, "We can diagnose a patient but have trouble painting a room!"

Cameron laughed at her, before rolling up her sleeves.

"Okay, you take this end and I'll take that one."

They manoeuvred the sofa into the centre of the room, both struggling a little with the weight. After spreading the sheets over the floor, Cameron paused and approached Thirteen, and began hugging her tightly.

"What was that for?" Thirteen asked, holding Cameron.

"I don't know." Cameron said quietly, before looking up at Thirteen, still in her arms, "but I think it's time for you to change clothes…"

Thirteen laughed, "Well, if I have to change, you have to change." She pulled Cameron by the hand into the bedroom, and threw her a shirt to wear.

They both changed, neither looking at one another. They turned around at the same time, eyes widened.

"This is gonna be a lot of fun," Thirteen said as she gazed at Cameron, her eyes taking in the long, smooth expanse of toned skin.

"Hey, don't get any ideas, we have a lot of work to do," Cameron said innocently.

The yellow turned out to be tasteful, of which they were both glad, considering they had chosen a random shade and hoped for the best. Thirteen prised open the paint pots and handed Cameron a brush. She poured some into a tray and took a roller herself, and they began to cover the walls.

Halfway along painting the edge of one wall, Cameron looked over at Thirteen, amused at the concentration on her face; similar to her diagnostic look. She grinned as she flicked paint at Thirteen, who looked back at her with shock, her mouth open wide.

"I can't believe you did that," she exclaimed, before grabbing a brush and flicking Cameron back.

What had started fairly innocently quickly escalated into a paint war. Flicking turned to throwing and throwing turned to pouring. They both collapsed onto each other, laughing, their shirts covered in yellow, and smudges of paint all over them. They kissed amid the laughter, breathlessly, Cameron's hand placed on Thirteen's chest affectionately; Thirteen's hand on Cameron's face.

The painting took two more hours, along with the re-arranging of the furniture and new accessories for the room.

"Allison, are you hungry?" Thirteen asked from one side of the room.

Cameron stopped to think. "Yeah, I am actually."

"Okay, I'll cook something, yeah?"

"Sure, do you need some help?" Cameron asked.

"Only if you want to," Thirteen replied, as she entered the kitchen.

"I like watching you cook," Cameron replied, following her, "especially dressed like that."

Thirteen smirked as she started preparing vegetables.

"I'm thinking about doing a paper," Cameron said, leaning back against the counter.

"Really? What about?" Thirteen asked, as began to cook the vegetables.

"Well, just an incidence report really."

"Incidence of what?" Thirteen asked, interested.

"Well, we're such a large ER, I think we'd be able to contribute valuable data for a study that's going on at the moment. You know Davidson, at Stanford? He's doing an investigation into the prevalence of female domestic violence in alcohol related incidents – you know, trying to get some real figures."

"Hmm, that's an area with limited data so far," Thirteen said, "What's his approach?"

They continued talking about work while cooking. When the meal was ready, they took it into the living room.

"Maybe we should sit on the floor?" Cameron suggested, looking down at their paint-covered selves.

"Good idea," Thirteen replied, sitting down on the sheet.

Cameron glanced at the darkening window as it started to rain, sitting down opposite Thirteen.

"It never stops, does it?" she asked.

"It doesn't seem to," Thirteen replied, "but then it gets to summer and you can't even remember when it wasn't a hundred degrees."

Cameron smiled, "It's strange how quickly things fade sometimes."

Thirteen looked across at her, their eyes meeting for a second.

"But then," Cameron continued, "some things that you thought you couldn't remember any more come back to you more suddenly than you could ever expect. As real and vibrant as if you were living them all over again…" she paused.

"And you're back there," Thirteen spoke softly, "for a moment, in that place. A sight or a smell or a touch and you're there, more real than when you were living it even."

Cameron smiled at her sadly, before clearing the plates away. She returned to find Thirteen lying on the floor, her hands behind her head, watching the rain fall down the window pane. Cameron switched a lamp on, its light illuminating the freshly painted walls with a warm glow.

"I like the colour," Cameron observed.

"So do I," Thirteen replied, "it feels warm. I think this is a place I'd like to spend time now. Instead of wanting to be anywhere but here."

"Me too," Cameron responded, lying down next to Thirteen and laying her head on her chest, wrapping her arm over her stomach. Thirteen removed one of her hands from under her head and stroked Cameron's arm, thinking.

"Maybe you should think about spending more time here," Thirteen said casually.

Cameron looked up at her.

"I mean," Thirteen continued, "What do you think about moving in?"

Cameron smiled shyly, interlinking her fingers with Thirteen's. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"We don't have to rush anything," Thirteen said, "Whenever you want."

She could hear the rain outside, and it seemed so far away. The silken threads sped downwards, slowly at first as they hit the pane, then more rapidly as they felt the effects of gravity. Tears from the sky, Cameron thought, and thought then that they were a symbol of the world's sadness. There must be a collective pool up there in the sky somewhere, she thought, just waiting for that final tear before it overflowed. An image of Thirteen entered her mind, on the night where she had found her in the rain, standing in the middle of her living room like an island.

She stroked Thirteen's stomach lightly. "You're more real to me than anything I've ever known," she said, "as surreal as this all is. I want this to be more than just a memory. How do we do that, Remy?"

"I don't know," Thirteen replied sadly, "we make sure we feel it everyday, I guess, we remind ourselves, we don't let our lives fade into routine, normality. It has to be more than that, I think."

"I think it is already," Cameron said.

I shall try not to be too long with an update! Feedback is much appreciated :)