A/N: Lack of House/Cam, makes me go…something something.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
House sat on his couch, rubbing at the leather absently. He couldn't call up Wilson because he was 'busy'. Cuddy had made a point to not bother her because she was going to be on a date. Like that ever stopped him. Surely, he mused, they were on a date together. Chase and Foreman did whatever they did when they had a day to kill, but Cameron had blown them off saying she had something to do. That 'to do' gnawed at House's stomach. What could it possibly be? he thought. He slammed his fist against the couch leaving an embroiled dent.
A new boyfriend? No, it can't be...she wouldn't...she couldn't...
He stood up hastily, rubbing at the momentary twinge in his leg and limped over to his room. Grabbing his jacket, he put it on, and slammed the door. Two kids played on the sidewalk, passing a ball between each other, laughing and giggling as they pretended to be basketball players. He walked around them and mounted his bike. His eyes flitted to the floor as the ball rolled over to his leg, a pathetically tattered auburn thing in a shape of a ball. Suddenly, one of the boy's voice broke through.
"Yo, man, can you pass me that ball?"
He looked up toward the boy. "You know just because I'm crippled, doesn't mean that I can't pass you the ball. Your mother hasn't, obviously, taught you any manners, right?"
The boy scoffed. "You don't scare me old man!"
Why am I arguing with a 7 year old? He laughed to himself, watching as the other kid tugged on his shirt. "Come on man, les' bounce!"
House figured he wasn't worth his time. "Here." He picked up the ball and threw it to him before he grabbed his helmet and put it on. He slapped open the shield and glanced back.
"What chu lookin' at pops?"
He slapped it down, laughed to himself and drove off to where ever his bike would take him.
He zoomed by cars, slowly coming to a halt as he pulled into the driveway of a park. He took off his helmet and regretted it almost immediately as the bright sun made him squint in annoyance. Despite the blare of it, it was fairly warm and breezy. Finding a good spot to sit, he watched as couples walked hand in hand, but the kid who had stepped up to him earlier crossed his mind. He did his best to stay indifferent at the thought but it was becomingly increasingly harder as each moment passed. When he had been with Stacy, they had found out that she couldn't have kids. He'd shaken it off with a snarky retort of not wanting any but in reality, he had always wanted one. Wilson knew it though. He had always known it. As miserable as he was, the thought of having a smaller version of him ordering people around, being just as snarky, laughing when a person would fall, seemed like a nice image. But now, nothing of that sort would be possible. Stacy was still married to Mark, and he was in no way interested in her anymore. Cuddy had found comfort and stability in Wilson, and he's been happy for them, although he'd never state it vocally. But, there was one person came to mind...Cameron. Cameron had always shown affection for him. She had always shown complete interest in him, and more than that, she could actually stand his presence.
"I can't take this anymore," he mumbled to himself as he stood and headed to the gym. Basketball's bouncing against the hardwood floor resonated loudly as he entered. Laughter filled the small room before the opening of it as 3 women passed to go to the bathroom. Women. Always having to go in groups...
Poking his head in, he watched as a cluster of people every 10 feet or so managed to . Limping over to the bench, he picked a spot, sat down, and began to watch the game. From the other end of the court, a nicely built women gave her back to him. Hmm, he mused as he tilted his head, nice hair. Good arms. Not bulky, but nicely toned. He bent his head again and peered downward. Nice ass too. When realization dawned, he froze at the familiar face. It was Cameron. Of all the people in the world, he wouldn't have expected to see Cameron playing basketball. Let alone in public. A smile grew wider and wider as his conscience nipped at him, See, you moron. Cameron doesn't have a boyfriend, she comes to play...He relaxed visibly as he watched her.
They passed her the ball as she brought it done the court, wiping at the sweat with her jersey. Stalling at mid-court, she slowed down the pace of the game. Passing it to one girl, she gave a fake and got the ball back going for an easy lay-up. The people on the side whooped and cheered, as House found himself cheering her on.
With 20 seconds left they were tied. Cameron got the ball and pushed it down the court as one of her teammates ran on the other side of her an easy 2 on 1 situation. She faked a pass as she went for a lay-up. House jumped and immediately regretted it as he made a loud groan when he landed. Cameron halted all actions and looked over, visibly tensed. Their eyes locked momentarily, for what seemed like an eternity until one of the people screamed from the side, "GET BACK IN THE GAME NUMBER 42!"
She began to run as the other team took a shot, but missed. Women from her team came to pat her on her back congratulating her on a job well done. House just stood and looked at her with a fixed gaze. She glanced over and smiled. He didn't return the favor and cautiously made his way down the bleachers. As he was about to open his mouth to say a snarky remark, a guy came out of nowhere and hugged her. He watched them momentarily and headed out.
Noting that she was the person that she was, it didn't effect him when she was by his side in no later than 3 seconds. She tugged on his jacket to get his attention, but he didn't budge. Wordlessly he got on his bike and left her standing in the parking lot.
The phone began to ring. House looked back from his spot on the sofa but turned back to a muted L-Word. The phone continued to ring.
"You've reached the misanthropic jerk, don't bother to leave your name and number seeing that I don't plan on calling you back hence the me not picking up."
He smirked, he loved that message.
"House, it's Wilson, I know you're not doing anything as you are probably listening to this with a muted L-Word on"-House smirked at how well Wilson knew him-"but seeing that you did make plans with me-"
House leapt for the phone.
"Like! Oh my god! I'm like sooooo sorry! Please like forgive me!"
Wilson sighed. "You have an hour," he said simply.
"But-bu there's the foreplay that's what...1 hour in its self? Then the self-"
"Ok, ok, ok I get it."
"That's what 20 minutes depending on what episode it's on, then the cuddling..."
"I said ok House!"
House scoffed. "You're the one wasting time! While I could be jer-"
"I said enough!"
Wilson sighed seeing that there was no way that he was going to win this one. "Ok, hour half."
"Thank you Wilson."
"Are you going to tell me anything?"
"No" he said innocently. "Look I have to go, the good parts coming up."
"Hour half!" Wilson reminded.
"But I don't wanna share. It wouldn't be our half if I had a whole. If you had a whole and I had a whole we wouldn't need to share. You see?"
House could just imagine Wilson squinting in confusion. "One hour and a half."
"Good way to cover."
"Your impossible," he heard Wilson say right before the line clicked silent.
He unhooked the phone from the wall jacket and plopped down onto the couch. His eyes became blurry and in no time he ended up falling asleep.
A knock woke him up from his deep slumber. He cranked his head up and saw the clock. 1 Hour and a half had already passed.
"God damn boy scout..." he muttered.
House got up with much annoyance and swung the door open, " Wilson I know you want me but-"
Cameron glanced up. Her eyes were somewhat puffy and she looked like a porcelain doll at the moment. It looked as if, House would extend a hand and touch her she would break. She looked scared, vulnerable...defenseless.
"Cameron," he stated surprised.
She looked down and fidgeted, toying with the sleeve of her sweater. "I should be going...I don't know what I'm doing..." she began to walk but was stopped by a hand.
"What are you doing here?" He tried to mask the slight anger in his voice and failed.
"He's gay," she whispered.
"The guy that hugged me. He's gay."
A confused face graced his features as his tone softened. "You came all the way over here to tell me the guy is gay? What...does he want a date or something?"
She cracked a smile and it made him feel good. It was extremely chilly as Cameron's words slightly shook, her breathe coming out in short visible puffs. He was bringing his guard down but knew that if he didn't do something he would lose her.
"Hey, come on its cold. You're gonna get sick. I can't have you sick, who the hell else is going to make me coffee?" He gestured for her to come inside with a jerk of his head. She entered, avoiding his gaze and merely stood in the middle. Her eyes darted every which way and noticed the cabinets filled with movies, his sacred piano in the corner and the mess that seemed to appear on every crevasse. He stared at her back with lowered eyes and remembered something. He walked over to his couch and sat down.
"42," he said flipping the TV on.
"What?" she came into view and stood there off to a side. She knew better then to stand in the way of his precious TV. Wilson could get away with it, barely, but still get away with it. She on the other side couldn't dare push those boundaries just yet.
"42," he repeated simply, flipping to another channel showing a woman baking a cake but quickly changed it to a bunch of guys duking it out in the ring.
"What about it?"
"That's your number. Why 42?"
She avoided his gaze as a blush came on. He merely lifted his eyebrows in anticipation and settled the TV onto The O.C. He heard her mumble something as her chin touched her chest.
"What?" he prodded.
She tipped her chin up. "I said...it's your favorite number."
He narrowed his eyes at her somewhat amused. "I'm touched."
"Yea. Why'd you run off?"
"I came. I saw. I left. That's what basketball is all about, right?"
She let out a breath and sat down. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she realized what she had done. She had crossed his personal space. House looked at her then focused his gaze back onto the TV. "You're kinda good."
"Thank you and yea, that's what you do," Cameron said. She looked at him as the anger began to fume. "House what's bothering you!" she on a sharp whisper.
He threw the control against the wall and stood up abruptly, wincing in pain and flopping down onto the couch. Cameron rushed over and touched his face. "Are you ok?"
"Peachy," he said dryly.
"House," he looked away, "what's wrong with you?"
He gulped and stared straight into her eyes. "Were you jealous?" He didn't say anything. "Don't be jealous."
He was about to say something when he snapped his mouth shut. He wanted to tell Cameron what was on his mind so badly but felt weak at the thought. He couldn't. He wouldn't. But he would. "I was"
She seemed shocked a bit and slowly began to move her hand towards his lips. She brushed them softly with her thumb as he continued to stare. She looked at him in a pleading manner that only meant one thing. He leaned in forward and brushed his lips against her, both of them spiraling into a world where they were all their own. It felt nothing like any of them anticipated it would. It was soft, sweet, and deliberate. Their lips contoured to each others perfectly. House separated.
"Don't be jealous," she repeated this time with a grin.
"I won't...only if you promise me something."
She was scared to ask but went with it anyways. "What?"
"Be mine," he said simply.
She was taken back at how sincere it sounded. It wasn't something rushed, or sarcastic. He really meant it. She leaned back slightly and flung a hand to her mouth. "House, I don't want you to feel rushed...say something you don't mean."
"Ah, Cameron. All of those years of us working together and the point still hasn't crossed your mind that I mean just about everything that I say unless I say that I don't mean it?"
"Always...now...answer the question."
"Do you even have to ask?"
He gave her his 'duh' look and she just laughed in return. "C'mere," he said with a flip of his head. She hesitated a bit and slowly set herself beside him. "Oh don't give me that crap" he grabbed her by the waist and somewhat literally smashed her against him.
"Shhhh!!! The O.C is on! No talking during the O.C!"
She laughed and placed her hand across his chest simultaneously lowering her head to his heart. "I guess I have to get used to that rule," she said so softly it didn't register as a sentence.
"Yes you do," he said with equal tenderness.
A/N: So there you have it.