A/N: I'm back, and with another humble apology for the time it's taken to return to this story. I've been reading through what I have so far over the past couple of days in order to get back into it, and I'm cringing writing this A/N knowing how many precede it promising that updates would pick up and be more frequent. There's been a lot going on for me in life/ health/ general, meaning fanfic took a bit of a back seat, and I decided that when I did have time to write it, it made sense to work on one story at a time. All that being said, the good news is this is now OFFICIALLY my only WIP as I've finished the other two I had outstanding, so I can genuinely and sincerely mean it when I say it's the one I plan to focus on :p.
I've really missed these two - and you guys! - and while I did write a winter one-shot (STRANDED) that acted as a bandaid to missing writing this ship, I'm very glad to be getting back to this longer and more involved story! So yes! I'm officially back, and I already have 1/3 of the next chapter written, and I promise (really!) it will be up in the next couple of days :)

Reviews would really make my day, I've missed writing this so much! :)

Resuming her seat on the sofa, Cameron crosses one leg over the other; very aware that she wears nothing beneath her dress. She's a little uncertain just what's expected as House takes a seat beside her and sips at his wine. He sits comfortably, using the armrest; companionable but not too close, and she nurses her glass and waits for some clue as to what comes next.

"... I regret what I said."

He states finally, and she blinks, unsure what he's referring to, and she meets his gaze curiously before looking away; his brow furrowed as he studies her intently.

"When?"

"At the Tipping Cup. At yours. When I asked you how you felt around those women there in their dresses, looking the way they did. I was curious, and it wasn't meant as an insult, but-... I've never seen you like this. I think you took it somewhat as a barb, and I shouldn't have implied you weren't one of them."

"I'm not one of them."

Cameron replies simply.

"I'm me... I wore this hoping for a reaction from you because I think I deserve one after all this time. But what just happened would still have happened if I'd shown up here in slacks and a shirt... Because I'm me, and I think you kind of like me."

"I'm beginning to think that too."

House frowns, before asking curiously

"What reaction were you hoping for?"

"Lust? Arousal? I guess some surprise, as well... I know this isn't how you see me, but I wish it was sometimes."

"Oh?"

"Well, yeah. On the one hand, it's kind of nice imagining you've taken someone's breath away a little, on the other, it's disillusioning to realise how easy it was to do. I know you don't see me like those girls at the bar. I know you don't see me the way you see Thirteen and Cuddy and some of the women down in surgery. If any of them rocked up wearing this, you'd think nothing of it other than that they're hot, which they are. It was nice to see you so flustered when you opened the door, but I do wish the fact that I can pull it off - presuming you think that I do - wasn't such a shock to you."

She shrugs, and House mulls her words over with a small hint of amusement as he nods and assures her sincerely

"You do."

"And you're surprised."

She reiterates coolly.

"No."

He shakes his head, studying her thoughtfully.

"No?"

"No. I'm not surprised you can pull it off. I'm surprised to see you like this because I've never seen you like this before, and because nothing that I have seen you in hints that you'd own something like this. Now that I know better, I'm sure you own several things like this. I hope so, anyway... I was taken aback when I opened the door because my jaw was proverbially on the floor because of how you look right now. Just that; simply that. I don't tend to think of you in the same way as I think of the others, because I've always been careful not to let myself think of you that way. Because when I make comments about Thirteen or Cuddy, or any of the others being 'sexy' or 'hot', I'm not inwardly imagining what I plan to do about it, I'm just being an ass. With you... It's always been easier to mock you than to enter dangerous territory by commenting favourably on your appeal and giving myself too much to think about with some of the images that might come up as a result. I teased you for what was in front of my nose because I didn't want to think about the rest... I didn't want to think about the few times when I'd dropped by your apartment, fully aware that you were into me at the time, to find you in running gear or pyjama shorts. Because I don't need the dress and the lipstick and the wine to think you're hot. Not pretty, not attractive, not cute. Hot... I mean, I could hardly allow you that while you were throwing yourself at me, could I?"

He finishes gruffly with a bemused shake of his head, aware that the blonde studies him raptly and cordially ignoring her.

"Mm... Fortunately, you dealt with it wonderfully."

Cameron states finally, her tone ice cold, but a quick glance in her direction allows him to spy the flush to her cheeks and he grins as he sips at his wine.

"You know, you're the only person people warn me about?... Oh, when I make comments about Thirteen or that pretty new ENT nurse, Cuddy or Wilson will scold me for being unprofessional, just like Foreman would if Chase ever did his hair nicely and felt I might be having 'thoughts'."

"Oh god."

"You're the only person they warn me about sincerely."

"Because they think I'm weak. Sweet."

"Weak? No. Sweet? Yes, and you are. They warn me because they like you. Everybody likes you. It's gross."

"Sorry."

"You should be... I never thought that would be my type. I never imagined I'd find myself crushing on the good girl."

"And I never imagined you'd use that word without gagging theatrically."

"It was a struggle."

House admits solemnly.

"Hopefully that means you won't use it again?"

"No? I thought something like that would send your heart all aflutter?... Hopefully, some lower down parts, too."

"If you don't stop, you're going to start having the opposite effect."

Cameron warns, sipping at her wine as House smirks at her before biting back coolly

"And I thought we'd agreed that I wasn't a good girl?"

"So you say, but I think I might need more evidence..."

"Really? Do the leather jacket and the fact that I'm sitting here sans underwear count for nothing?"

The blonde demands, and House chokes on his wine as her queerly conversational manner when addressing pure sin tickles him more than he'd care to admit.

"Oh, they count... But I stand by my previous statement all the same. You've either played coy, or bluntly shut me down every time I've tried to get more information out of you, and I understand your reasoning, even if I didn't appreciate it at the time. You told me I'd have to find out for myself just how wildly depraved you truly are, and just now, you hinted at relishing a little pain, but I can't tell if you were being sincere or having me on, which seems a little foolish when you might end up paying for your words."

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Cameron raises one of her own as she stares him down until he adopts a less lecherous expression.

"I've paid for my words our entire relationship, House. I've paid for what I've said, what I haven't said, what you've imagined I've said. It sucks sometimes, and it can sting, but do you really think I'd let you hurt me in the sense you're implying if I wasn't okay with it?"

"I-"

"-No. You don't. Sorry to step on whatever sarcastic comment you might have been planning to make, but you don't. And you wouldn't."

"... Not if you weren't okay with it."

House agrees, considering the blonde with open curiosity as he recalls the way she'd trembled against him and submitted to his rough grip on her hair. Glancing down at the bare promise of her thighs dappled with their constellation of bruises, he looks back up into cool green and prompts expectantly

"So? Go on. Tell me which of my 'wild and possibly illegal' presumptions struck a nerve in a good way. If you're such a bad girl, prove it. Tell me something that supports that theory."

"I'm not telling you anything."

"But you-"

"-But... I'll allow you to guess, and I'll tell you if you're right."

"... Oh?

"Mm. On one condition."

Cameron nods, schooling her expression to remain calm and alluring - hopefully! - to disguise the swarm of butterflies currently migrating their way from her stomach into her chest.

"Name your price."

House challenges, reaching over to top up her wine with a smirk as she considers his generous pour dubiously; understanding that he means to make the most out of her unlikely little game and wants her to know it. Wants to watch her squirm.

"What's your condition?"

He prompts when she sits back against the armrest on her side of the sofa; recrossing her legs to coax the black silk of her dress ever higher.

"My condition - my suggestion - is that you stop using the term 'bad girl' if you have any plans of putting your soon-to-be newfound knowledge into practice."

"... Deal."