For The Confused: This fic was started a season and a half ago, when a viewer could reasonably assume that Cameron and House's relationship would develop along the lines seen in the first Christmas episode and "Infidelity" rather than the train wreck that came later. Fast forward about six to eight months, and you'd have something interesting.

This fic was and is still written on that assumption, along the way also saving several other characters from sub-plots I'd rather not mention. From that point the show went one way, we went another, and now my little fic and the show are so very far apart that they probably couldn't see each other with a telescope. Not that any of my characters mind ….

And so here we are: The Canon That Might Have Been.

Pairing: Cameron/House

Disclaimer: Sadly, none of the people or places you recognize are mine.

Coming Home

by Gatekeeper

Chapter 1: Something's Missing

Dr. Cuddy slammed the folder down, the bulk of the desk between them the only thing keeping her from reaching over and strangling the man seated across from her. "This is the fifth doctor you've bullied into quitting this month alone, House. I'm sick of it."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. I hardly think the one who was here for only three days counts." House relaxed back in the chair, a faintly condescending expression on his face. "Clearly, he was unsuited to the stresses of the medical profession."

"No. The stress those doctors couldn't deal with was you, and I'm starting to agree with them!" she snapped back, blood in her eye. She didn't care how smart House was - one of these days she was going to fire him simply for the sake of her blood pressure. "Do you get some sick pleasure out of breaking good doctors, or are you doing this simply to torment me?"

"Don't flatter yourself. They're all idiots, Cuddy." House leaned forward, suddenly angry. "Idiots and children. The few that knew which end of the stethoscope went in their ears fainted at the thought of independent thinking of any sort. I'm doing the patients a favor by getting rid of them."

Cuddy stiffened, offended for both her sake and the doctors. "Every one of those doctors was just as qualified as Dr. Cameron had been, some more so. You never seemed to have any trouble working with her."

House snorted. "They may have had the same paper credentials Cameron had when she got here, but they're light years behind her in intelligence and skill." The faintly condescending look was back, but with an edge this time. "Frankly, I'm embarrassed for you that you could even make such a comparison. It's no wonder we lost her to St. Rita's."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him, surprised. On those rare occasions when House felt the need to praise someone at all, he generally couched it in the middle of an insult in the hopes that no one would notice. "If I remember correctly, you practically ordered her to take the job."

"The wife of a disgustingly rich hospital owner goes on vacation with her husband and falls deathly ill on our doorstep. Cameron pushes a diagnosis against all rational thought that just happens to save the woman's life. The husband is so charmed by this that he offers Cameron a job with more freedom and resources and oh, nearly double the salary we were giving her. She would have been an idiot not to jump at the opportunity." His expression darkened briefly as he sat back, his voice dropping to a grumble. "Even if it is all the way in Seattle."

Cuddy stared at him, wide-eyed. If she didn't know any better, that almost sounded like ... she shook her head. Anyone else, maybe, but not House. He wasn't capable of it. "You know, don't you, that if any lawsuits come out of this I'm immediately throwing you to the wolves. I refuse to let this hospital suffer because of your obstinacy."

Sensing the end of the berating, House got to his feet with a humorless smile. "I'll be looking forward to it. I've always found legal action to be wonderfully entertaining." Then he was gone, and Cuddy let out a covert sigh of relief. For some reason, House had been especially horrible to deal with these last few months, and if she didn't find the reason soon she was afraid she was going to snap like those doctors he'd chased off.

That, or shoot him.

000

He told himself it was just information gathering. A very practical thing, information gathering, having nothing to do with need or emotion of any sort. Of course, it was technically true that he could find out how Cameron was doing simply by asking Wilson, the actual recipient of the letters, but House convinced himself that the other man wouldn't get the details quite right. It was more satisfying to go straight to the source material, even if it took a little larceny to do it ...

"You could just ask, you know."

It took a second before House could lift his head and shoot Wilson his best disinterested expression. "I hadn't wanted to admit the truth," he said dryly, the line having been prepared for just such an eventuality. "But I'm desperate for those John Tesh cds you keep in your bottom desk drawer."

"Ha ha. I'm blown away by your incredible wit." Amused, Wilson reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out a long, white envelope with a familiar return address. "So your little B and E had nothing to do with this? I haven't had the chance to get back to my office before now."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Your mail's not interesting enough to steal." So he would have to come by later and get it. He was a grown man, he could wait that long.

"Right." Though he felt the deepest pity possible for Chase, Foreman and the merry-go-round of young doctors unlucky enough to be assigned to work with house, it had been fascinating to watch his friend slowly go crazy with missing Cameron over the last few months. He imagined it was like watching someone who refused to admit they were falling off a cliff. "So you won't mind if I take Cameron's letter home with me, then?"

"It's your wife you should be worried about, not me." The bastard. Maybe he could try breaking into Chase's e-mail account again. "I never could figure out what you and Cameron found to talk about during those conversations of yours, anyway."

They had mostly talked about House, at least at first - sort of a crash course in how to survive House's hard candy shell long enough to get to his soft, creamy center. Wilson had been more than happy to help, but felt no need to mention any of that now - the man had a swelled enough head as it was. "Oh, any number of things." Wilson lifted a very pointed eyebrow in the other man's direction. "It was novel to have a friend who was actually sensitive to human emotion."

Rather than retort with the expected comeback, House's face got dark and contemplatetive. "She was good at that, wasn't she?" he said after a moment, his mind someplace very far away. Seattle, probably.

Feeling an inexplicable stab of pity for the man, Wilson reached out and touched the other man on the arm. "Write her. A letter, e-mail, whatever. She'll enjoy hearing from you." And you desperately need it, though he thought it best not to mention that part.

House looked at him ruefully. "And say what? 'Seen any interesting new illnesses lately? You've left me with a series of idiots that can't begin to take your place'? I don't think so."

"How about 'How's Seattle? Things haven't been the same around here since you left.'"

House just looked at him, then shook his head and turned toward the door. "And with that incredibly helpful thought, I'll be going."

When House's back was toward him, Wilson tapped him on the shoulder with the edge of the letter. When he turned back, surprised, Wilson handed it to him. "I've got an appointment downstairs," he said simply, then headed for the door himself. When he looked back, House had already settled down in his chair and started reading.

Almost absently House touched the corner of the letter to his nose, a look of satisfaction crossing his face. The scent of Cameron's lotion sometimes transferred to the paper as she was writing, and if you kept it in the envelope - as Wilson always did for House - the smell would still be there even days later.

"You're welcome," Wilson said softly, then continued on down the corridor.

000

Desperate men sometimes do desperate things.

House glanced at Cuddy out of the corner of his eye. "I hear you've been having difficulty browbeating someone into going to this year's medical policy conference."

Cuddy eyed him suspiciously, wondering what he was setting her up for. "It's in Seattle. Clearly, everyone here has issues with rain they failed to mention to me before this."

"That, or they don't want to have to waste their days listening to incredibly boring lectures about all the new developments designed to keep them from actually doing their jobs." His voice was casual, but he was careful not to let her actually look him in the eye. "You could force me to do it, you know."

She stopped, shocked. "What?"

"I've got enough black marks in my medical permanent record that you could blackmail me into doing pretty much anything you wanted, and since you're not as imaginative as a man might hope you're probably going to resort to mental torture. I'm just helpfully pointing out that this is the perfect opportunity."

Cuddy glared at him, trying to figure out how this was going to come back and bite her in the butt. "What do you get out of this?"

Knowing he'd hooked her, House started down the corridor. Cuddy followed, just as he'd known she would. "If I choose my punishment now, it'll keep your cruel streak from making an appearance later. Besides, being forced into something more mind-numbing than clinic duty will be a good object lesson."

Cuddy stopped, watching House through narrowed eyes as he continued on. After a few feet she called out, "Am I going to regret this?"

"You'll be free from my wicked influence for a few days," he called back, sounding far too pleased with himself and the universe in general. "How bad could it be?"

000

If anyone said the word HMO to her for the next 24 hours, she was going to do something violent.

Cameron sighed as she leaned her head against the doors of the Hyatt's conference room B. She had a good job, she firmly reminded herself, and it was worth the minor tortures that came with being the newest person on staff. Like being the one sent to the long-winded, mind-numbing and often aggravating medical policy conference just a few miles away ... No wonder House had always hated them so badly. If he'd heard some of the lectures she'd been forced to sit through ... She closed her eyes for a second, savoring the thought of having him there with her.

When she opened her eyes again he was still there, moving through the crowd toward her. Cameron's first thought was panic. Oh no, she thought, I'm hallucinating him. She could have sworn she'd felt him there during those first few weeks at St. Rita's, but the visuals were a clear sign she was suffering from sleep deprivation. She shut her eyes again. Or something worse ...

"Didn't anyone warn you that you're not actually supposed to go into the lectures? The speakers don't want to be there any more than you do, and if they're forced to deal with an actual audience they get spiteful." The voice was cynical and achingly familiar, and when she opened her eyes again House was standing solid and real right in front of her. Upon seeing the surprise on her face, his expression became self-depreciating. "Or was that expression because you spotted me in the crowd?"

She just looked up at him, eyes wide with shock and delight. "Dr. House," she breathed, and before rational thought could cut in and stop her she had lifted her arms up and wrapped House in a fierce, quick hug. It felt so good to have him there ... As soon as the rest of her brain realized what she was doing and who she was doing it to, she pulled away in alarm. "I'm so sorry. It's just ..."

"Don't worry about it," he said quickly, valiantly trying to ignore the way his skin still felt hyper-sensitive every place it had come into contact with her. "Mental torture has a dramatic altering effect on normal behavior patterns."

She just smiled at him, grateful for the gentlemanly escape. "I missed you," she said simply, warm all the way through. If only all fantasies came true this easily.

Something constricted almost painfully in House's chest, and he was alarmed to realize it was probably his heart. "We've definitely got to get you out of here," he said gruffly, moving them towards the nearest elevator before he did something stupid.

000

Foreman frowned as he kept pace with Chase. "You must have heard wrong."

Chase shook his head. "Nope. An intern was following Cuddy for the entire conversation, and you know they don't dare make up rumors about House. They're too terrified of him."

Foreman still didn't look convinced. "House doesn't go to conferences. He hates them even more than he hates clinic hours." He gestured in the vague direction of Cuddy's office. "Dr. Cuddy must have forced him into it as revenge for using the new doctors as a shooting gallery."

"If Dr. Cuddy had scored that big against House, it'd be all over her face." Chase smirked as he grabbed a stack of folders off the desk on their way past. Having House gone may have given them a brief window of relative peace and quiet, but it had also nearly doubled their workload. Both he and Foreman agreed it was more than worth it. "So why does she look like she knows there's a ticking bomb somewhere and she can't remember where she put it?

"Okay, I'll give you that one. But your theory doesn't make any sense. Why would House willingly subject himself to something he hates so much? What does he get out of it?"

Chase just grinned. "It's in Seattle."

"Seattle? Why ..." Foreman's face changed as he caught the insinuation, shifting from surprise to utter disbelief. "Cause Cameron's there? Man, now I know you've lost it."

"Why do you think he's been such a total bastard these last couple of months?"

Foreman lifted an eyebrow. "Maybe because he is a total bastard?"

Chase shook his head. "Mark my words. Cameron will be back within six months, House'll return to his usual thorny self and we'll all go home with less of a headache."

"You willing to put your wallet behind that diagnosis?"

000

When they got outside, Cameron and House realized that, beyond getting away from the conference and remaining in each other's immediate vicinity for the foreseeable future, they hadn't actually formulated a plan about where they were going. So they let the crowds of tourists carry them along towards the space needle, still the centerpiece of Seattle's tourist industry. When they got there they stood outside for a few minutes, looking up at it.

"Well, I've been suitably awed by the experience," House said after a moment. He turned to look at her. "Any chance you could show me something of actual interest?"

Cameron stopped, momentarily frozen with the desire to impress him. Then she took a deep breath, screwed up her courage, and took House to see her version of Seattle. First, of course, was St. Rita's. He made intelligent comments in all the right places, grumbled in all the expected places, and glowered as if he were resentful of the place on some deep and personal level. But when a fellow doctor came by to compliment her on her skills, the pride was evident on his face. Thanks in part to his presence, she was sure, no one mentioned there was a conference she really should have been at.

Then, somehow, they wound up on the roof, and she was telling him how she snuck up here on breaks sometimes because she enjoyed the view so much. Cameron found herself pointing details of it out to House, telling him stories of the things she'd seen. House remained silent throughout, content simply to watch her with a warmly intent expression on his face. Every once in awhile, the corner of his mouth even turned up.

"You seem like you're doing well here," House said after she was finished, his voice and face suddenly darkly serious. "That's ... good."

"I guess so," she responded, a weird sadness creeping around the edges of her mood. She did have a good life here, but now that she'd seen House moving around in the heart of it she realized how much better it could be. She had gone through her days storing everything up in her head, waiting for the moment when she could tell House about it. She should have just written him - it didn't matter if he wrote back, or even found the time to read them. "How have things been going back at Princeton? Dr. Wilson and Chase say you've been having some trouble with my replacements."

"As if anyone could ever do that," he muttered, quickly moving on before Cameron could ask for clarification. "Cuddy keeps sending me people not mentally equipped to deal with anything more complicated than a runny nose."

"Just give them time," Cameron soothed. "Remember, you had enough trouble with me at first."

"That wasn't the same thing at all," House retorted. "I just needed to teach you to speak up."

Cameron smiled. "Well, you did." She took a step sideways, moving toward House until their arms touched along their length. "Do you ever regret it?"

"Of course not." All of House's nerves strained in the direction of his arm, wanting to be part of the group that got to be that close to Cameron. He was prepared not to move as long as she was. "One of the most brilliant things I ever did. I'm just surprised no one else had the sense to do it."

Her heart squoze. "Not everyone ... thinks about things the same way you do." To her embarrassment she could feel tears pricking at the corner of her eyes, and moved away before House could notice. "Are you hungry? There's this little combined cafe/coffee shop just around the corner from here. I just discovered it about a month ago, and now I stop by every morning for a ..."

"...Caramel crème latte with cinnamon and chocolate shavings, I know." He started towards the stairs in order to keep his mind from dwelling too hard on Cameron's arms. "Come on, my treat." His eyebrows lifted. "Or, to be more specific, Cuddy's treat."

She just stared after him, mouth slightly open with shock. She hadn't even known the lattes had existed before she found the shop, and was uncomfortable enough with how unhealthy they were that she hadn't mentioned them to anyone but Dr. Wilson. How had House known ...

Taking a deep breath, she hurried to catch up to him.