Chapter Sixteen

A few more days passed with more avoidance from Cameron and he was sick of it. In the meantime, he spent a lot of time in the pool swimming laps or in the home gym to strengthen the muscles in his leg. He and Mundell also spent time shooting hoops in the indoor basketball court. While Mundell might have been shorter than House, he made up for it with speed and agility that House lacked from years of pain in his leg.

"You played when you were younger, didn't you?" House asked the man as they took a break and drank from their water bottles.

Mundell nodded and grinned. "I was on a team."

"I knew it! You're still pretty good."

"Some things you just don't forget. How's your leg?"

"It's fine."

"You're really pain free?"

"Yep. Cool, huh?"

"Very. How did you know the treatment would work?"

"It worked before, only not as long. I didn't do any physio like I'm doing now. This should help."

"How long did it last before?"

"A few months."

"Well I hope it's a permanent thing this time."

"You and me both."

"Do you, or rather, did you play golf?"

"All the time."

"Well then, maybe tomorrow we can play a round."

"I saw a golf course on the way here. Yours?"

"I don't own it, no," Mundell said with a chuckle. "But I am a member. If you'd like I could certainly arrange for you to become one as well."

"Maybe. I doubt they'd accept me," House said as he looked off into the distance.

"You're a successful doctor and you're marrying my daughter. That's all the acceptance you need." Then Mundell arched an eyebrow at House. "You are still marrying her, aren't you?"

"If I can get her to talk to me, sure."

"She won't talk to you?"

"We had words the other day. She's really pissed. I don't know if we can come back from that. I can't make her understand."

"Then try harder. You're a good man, House. I know your methods are rather...unorthodox at best but I'm sure you had a good reason for doing this the way you did. If she knew you as well as she says or thinks she does, she'd accept that."

"Then tell her that, because she wouldn't have any of it when I tried to explain," he said, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"I will, indeed," Mundell nodded and put his water bottle down. "One more game before lunch?"

"You're on."

Considering how hot it had been, the weather quickly changed and a big storm was coming.

"This will be like the one we had that first weekend you were here," Mundell told House.

"Allison is still avoiding me."

"She won't be able to for long. You know she's skittish when there's a storm, and it's going to be a big one."

House nodded, understanding. He then had an idea and went outside to the garden. Picking out a couple of colorful flowers, he had Bennings arrange them in a small vase and leave them in Cameron's room as a peace offering. However, an hour later when he returned from his session in the gym, the flowers were sitting outside his bedroom door.

House glanced out the window. The storm clouds were rolling in so he went back outside and picked eleven red and white roses, a symbol that she was truly and deeply loved by him, and a note which included a sappy poem from a book he found in the library.

Bennings brought the roses to Cameron and placed them on her dresser as he had done before.

"Take them back. I don't want them, or any other thing from him. Is that clear?"

"Forgive me for saying so, Miss…"

She glared at Bennings, daring him to continue. "Yes?"

"But you're being very stubborn about this. The man loves you. And while he made an error in judgement, which I'm sure isn't the first time he's done so, and will unlikely be the last, why do you choose this time to punish him?"

"You wouldn't understand…"

"Try me." He sat down on a chair. "Oh, you think because I'm a mere valet that I've never been in love before? Known what it's like to lose someone you love over something trivial such as this? Well you're wrong, Miss. I was a fool for love once too. It didn't end well. I don't want to see the same thing happen to you. Go to him. Talk to him, make amends. You'll feel better for it and so will he. I'm sick and tired of seeing the both of you moping around this house for the last few days. It ends now. Even if I have to drag you by your pretty blonde hair to his room myself."

Cameron gasped at his words and opened her mouth to give him what for, but he already left the room.

She knew Bennings was right, but the small, stubborn streak within her wanted House to be the one to apologize first. After all, it was his doing that got them into this mess, wasn't it?

You're such an idiot! Her inner thoughts screamed at her. You know why he did it. He did it for himself but he also did it so you two would have a better life. How is that a bad thing?

She sighed and tossed her book aside. The roses were beautiful. It was then she noticed that there were eleven, not twelve, which meant House had done his research and wanted her to know of his devotion in his own way. It made her smile a little and she let out a sigh of defeat. Now, where was he hiding? If he was even hiding.

She checked out his usual haunts, but he wasn't in the gym or the theatre room. He certainly wasn't outside, since it had already started to rain, and he wasn't in the ballroom playing the piano.

Finally, she found herself standing outside his bedroom door. The light was on and she could hear the blues playing within. She took a deep breath and knocked.

"House...it's Cameron."

She heard only a couple of footsteps and the door flung open to reveal House in his usual jeans and band T-shirt.

God, but he looked good. He had a slight tan from spending the last few days by the pool and he looked rested.

"Hi," he said with a slight shrug. "Need something?"

"I came to talk but…"

He stepped aside and ushered her in. "Scotch? We still have some of Greyhound's brew."

"Yeah, that would be good," Cameron said with a nod as she took a seat in a chair by the fire he had going. He set quite a cozy scene, and she couldn't help wondering if he had planned it that way.

Of course he did. House always has an agenda and will always be at least one step ahead of you. Damnit!

House handed her a tumbler of the amber liquid, sat down in the chair across from her, closed his eyes and rested his head back. "I assume you came here to talk, so talk," he said, his voice harsh. "And may I add that it's about fucking time. I've been trying to talk to you since I arrived. I even went so far as to send you flowers and a poem. I guess Jeeves finally read you the riot act, since your father seems to have given up trying to talk some sense into you."

"If you're going to be like this then there's no point in talking," Cameron snapped before downing the scotch in one long swallow and rose from her chair. House reached out and placed his hand over hers.

"Sit."

His expression and tone of voice reminded her of her early fellowship days and she sat back down.

Neither of them spoke at first, but then Cameron couldn't stand it anymore and broke the silence.

"The Ketamine worked?"

"It did. I think it might be for keeps this time. There are things I should have done the first time that I will do this time. It should keep the pain away for good."

"That's all I ever wanted for you," she said. "It was killing me to see you in so much pain every day. Even more so when we got together."

"I know and that's part of the reason why I decided to do it. I wanted to give you what you wanted. A husband without any limitations."

"I never thought of you like that."

"I know, but I did. And I remembered how good it felt after the first Ketamine treatment. I felt like a real man again. A whole man, despite the fact that I still had a hole in my leg."

He looked at her intensely. "I never lied to you. I was going to tell you after the fact because I wanted it to be a surprise. I didn't want to be an old cripple on our wedding day. I wanted to stand up there with you without the cane. And I want to be able to carry you over the threshold of our honeymoon suite and our new home. If that makes me a liar then…."

He stopped talking when he saw the tears rolling down her face, and she quickly wiped them away and smiled at him. "You really are a romantic, aren't you?" she sniffed.

"Guilty as charged."

He got up to refill their glasses with more Scotch but she refused hers.

"So, what now?" he asked her once he settled back in his chair and looked at her. "Do you still want to marry me?"