My first House M.D. fic ever (slightly OOC, imo), I've just become an House addict, so be nice. Hope you like it.


Gregory House stood thoughtfully in front of the window of his living room, watching the snow falling outside.

"Are you going to stand there in silence much longer?"

He turned around and found Cameron looking at him with a small smile on her lips. She had been sitting on his couch for a while. How long, exactly,. He didn't know. He had just opened the door when the doll bell had rung and let her in, soaked wet as she was.

"It's getting funny." He replied. "I want to beat my record of snow flakes count."

"What's the old one?"

"One."

Cameron smiled.

"That reminds me of your record of dates with a woman."

House's lips curled up into a small grin. His eyes didn't move from the window.

"That's two, and it's pretty creditable in my modest opinion."

"Actually, that's three."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that time we casually met at the hospital canteen and you obliged me to have lunch with you. Blame it on Alzheimer's."

"You don't have Alzheimer's."

"Damn, it's worse than I thought. I don't even remember I don't have it."

He turned back for a second and found her gazing at him with a loving expression. The only lights on were the ones of the Christmas tree, placed right behind the couch where Cameron was sitting, holding her legs to her chest.

She looked beautiful, but he'd never tell her.

"What would you like to receive for Christmas?" she asked him.

He went back looking outside, shrugging.

"I've been asking for the Little Dictator Kit every year since I was five, but as far as I know there was only one around and, unluckily, Hitler was born before me."

"Hitler is dead."

"Yeah, I've heard that eating more than a Jew a day can deadly increase cholesterol. That's why I eat only baptized Catholics."

"That explains why Chase is avoiding you, lately. He's found out you're planning to serve him with baked potatoes at Christmas dinner."

House nodded gravely.

"I actually proposed him to lie down naked in a straw crib in the hall of the hospital, but he didn't like the idea… I really don't know why. Guess I'll have to fire him. Literally."

Cameron let out a small laugh. She stood up and went to the window, right next to him.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes, it is."

"When I was a child, I thought snow flakes were a magic powder that made people better. I thought it was a little Christmas miracle."

He turned to her and observed her with an unreadable expression.

"Little Allison was as crazy as Doctor Cameron." He said. "Or maybe you just spent too much time under the snow and your brain got some irreversible damage, and that's why you're so strange now."

"I'm not strange." She protested.

"Well, let's see… You're spending your Christmas Eve with a man who doesn't like you, treats you like crap and could be your father – only a little ruder and more aggressive – and you still wear that stupid, annoying happy smile. Sounds like something only a psycho would do, to me."

Cameron folded her arms on her chest, putting on a stubborn, yet amused, expression.

"Do I have to remind you, Mr Rude, that I didn't self invite myself here?"

"You know, you can get really irritant, when you want to."

"I've had an excellent teacher."

"Who? Winnie The Pooh?"

"I was thinking more of my boss, but the comparison is kind of the same."

"You just didn't say that."

She addressed him a cheeky smirk.

"I did."

"You're going to spend the rest of the year inserting catheters and performing rectal explorations."

"Considering I still have only three weeks left to work before the year ends, it's not that bad."

"I said year? Oh, I'm sorry, I meant century. Alzheimer, remember?"

"U-uh."

She stepped forward and slid her arms around his waist with an audacious expression.

"What are you doing now?"

"I'm sexually harassing Winnie The Pooh." She replied with her most serious tone.

"You really want to die the day before Christmas? I though only Foreman was this masochist."

Cameron raised up on her tiptoes and reached out for his lips, capturing them in a soft, loving kiss.

As they pulled apart, House looked down at her, shifting his arms around her.

"Was that supposed to be an attempt to bribe me and beg me to spare you?"

Cameron chuckled, slightly tilting her head.

"I think so."

"My little, naïve Doctor Cameron, this is not even remotely enough to convince me. Unless you have a Little Dictator Kit under this horrible childish shirt you are wearing."

She put on a defiant expression and grinned.

"You'll have to find out yourself."

House grinned back mischievously.

"In this case" he commented. "Who cares about the kit?"

"What a pity." She said. "It's been so hard to find it."

"Shut up."

As his lips touched hers for the second time, under the mistletoe hung to the window, the clock tolled the midnight hour.

Indeed, it was going to be a merry Christmas.