If there's one drabble in particular that I think has the potential to wander off the canon mark so far, it's this one. :| Feel free to pass judgement. It's the last of the four I have written so far; there'll be more coming when I get a chance to write 'em. Enjoy.

FROM SCRATCH

Contrary to what everyone seemed to think of her - that she was Little Miss Perfect, that she could do no wrong - there was one thing, for sure, that Alison Cameron absolutely couldn't do.

She couldn't bake.

Perhaps that was taking it too far; she could bake... provided it was something already prepared and in a box for her. Instant brownies? Suuuure. Pillsbury cookies-in-a-tube? Bring it on. Make a cake from scratch? Not a chance.

She blamed the fact that she was too busy with work to learn how to properly bake. House pointed out that her hours weren't that unreasonable (to which she had no reply) and invited himself over for dinner. That night, as she busied herself in the kitchen (House left her to it, assuring her that there was no rush... unless they got a new patient, in which case they were screwed), he excused himself to the washroom. This was, of course, code for "going snooping." She was a perfectionist, so it wouldn't have been unlike her to...

"Aha." She did keep all of her old report cards...

"You failed Home Ec.," he informed her casually, settling down at the table. Cameron's back stiffened slightly, but she didn't turn from where she was working at the counter.

"You looked through my things. Why am I not surprised?"
"You have great taste in magazines, by the way. Cosmo..." He trailed off with a wolf whistle. Cameron scowled over her shoulder at him before setting a plate of cookies on the table.

"If I feed you, will you shut up?"

House eyed the cookies for a long moment before selecting one and taking a bite. Cameron watched him quietly. "Now... since you seem to know all about my ability based on my marks from the eighth grade... homemade or storebought?"

House chewed. Eggshell fragments grinded unpleasantly between his teeth; he wondered if she could hear it.

Oh, he was never going to forgive himself for this.

"Storebought."

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