Author's Note/Disclaimer: You know I don't own them. If I did, I'd be RICH!

I hope you're all in the mood for some fluff. Serious, serious fluff. Like, bunnies, kitties, and puppies type of fluff.

"And your lips next to mine make me think that, maybe, Heaven's where you are." – Anna Nalick, Forever Love (Digame)

When it started, he knew what he was doing. He even knew what he wanted. He started it out by buying her one dozen pink roses. They found their way onto the table in the differential room and they had her name on them. She smiled when she saw them and spent the rest of the week trying to figure out who'd sent them.

Then a gift card to her favorite restaurant found its way into her purse. It was for fifty dollars; enough for her to take someone with her. She smiled brightly when she found it. Chase leered and asked if she'd take him. She stuck her tongue out and said she'd rather take Nurse Brenda. She ended up taking Cuddy.

Two weeks later, there was a Calico kitten at her door, in a basket, meowing for attention. He hid in the corner and couldn't stop a small smile when she squealed and picked it up, snuggling it close and promising to name it Melody. He waited until her apartment door closed before he left. After all, he didn't want to get caught.

After two months of gifts, she was starting to get a little creeped out. Her admirer hadn't left her a single clue as to who he was. House shot out that maybe it was a woman. She hadn't been amused. Three days after her admission of suspicion, she found a note in her patient file. She opened it and read:

I hope you liked the roses. And the food. And the cat. For that matter, I hope you enjoyed the concert, the opera, and the play. Meet me in the lobby at seven. I promise I'm not carrying any weapons. Well … it could be construed as one. Meet me.

And she folded the note and put it in her purse. She had an idea of who it was … but she didn't want to get her hopes up. Could it be House? Was he the one who'd been spoiling her these past months? Was he even capable of doing that?

Perhaps it was Chase, pulling a horrible prank on her. While she enjoyed Chase's company, she hoped that it wasn't him. She'd be okay with it if it were Foreman. She actually rather liked him when he wasn't stealing her articles and doing poor imitations of House.

Maybe it was Wilson. He and House had the same sense of humor, and roses, kittens, and operas seemed more the panty-peeler style than anything House would ever do. Her heart sank at the thought. She liked Wilson, but she could never date him. He'd cheat on her; he cheated on everyone. It was his biggest character flaw.

But she read over the note again. He said that he didn't have a weapon, but whatever he had could be construed as one. Who could it be other than House with his telltale cane? She reminded herself once more not to get her hopes up, and she headed back to the patient's room to work.

At seven, she took a deep breath and grabbed her purse. She had to go through the lobby to get to her car, anyway. And she had mace in her hand just in case. When she got to the lobby, she saw House there on his cell phone. He must've heard her heels, because he said something to whoever he was talking to and hung up the phone.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked her with a frown.

Her heart sank. She'd been stood up. Whoever it was, he wasn't even going to show. It couldn't be House; he would've said something about her being here late instead of being her usual, prompt self. "I … worked late. That's all," she answered quietly. She swallowed back tears and replaced her mace in her purse, which was hidden beneath her jacket. Setting her purse down, she slipped into her coat and pulled gloves out of her pocket along with a scarf.

"We don't even have a patient for you to be working on," House pointed out.

"I know," she answered, concentrating in her gloves. "I was working on research." She couldn't meet his eyes. How could she have been so stupid as to think that maybe the person doing so many sweet things for her could have been House?

"Well, since you're here, mind giving me a ride home?" Upon her questioning glance, he poked a box at his feet with his cane. "I got a package in the mail today and I can't exactly balance it on the back of my bike."

"Oh," she said, shaking her head as though she were an idiot for not seeing that he had a huge box at his feet. "Sure." She threw her scarf around her neck and tossed her purse over her shoulder, picking up the box and leading the way to her car. She managed to maneuver the box into the trunk and drove to his apartment.

Once there, she grabbed the box out of the trunk and followed him into his place, almost dropping the box upon seeing the inside. Tinsel decorated the walls. There was a Christmas tree decorated with ornaments. There were even presents under the tree. It looked like any pleasant home, ready for a family to come for Christmas dinner. Tears popped into her eyes and she set the box down.

House glanced over at her and frowned. "What? Never seen a house decorated for Christmas before?"

"No, that's not it," she answered quickly, tears streaming down her face. "I…" She wiped the tears angrily. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me." Yes, she did. She thought she wasn't going to have to spend another Christmas alone. That this admirer was going to take away that pain. She'd been so horribly wrong.

House smirked, and Cameron wanted to run away. He was going to mock her. He was going to tell her that she was a stupid little girl. That she should grow up. That she- "He was there, you know."

Wait, what? "What are you talking about?" she sniffled.

"He was there," he murmured, watching her cry. He held his hand out to her and pulled her close to him. "He was waiting for you at seven. You were late."

Her tears turned into sobs. "I wasn't standing him up! Did you tell him I'd gone for the night? Oh, God, he must think I'm so horrible…" She cried into his chest. House's chest. When had House pulled her close?

"I think he'll forgive you."

"He won't!" Cameron exclaimed brokenheartedly. "I don't even know who he is and he's been so sweet and so perfect. He bought me a kitten, House! And I know you must think I'm some teenaged girl but I love that kitten. And roses and tickets for shows and … and…" She buried her face in her hands.

"Sounds like a great guy."

"He is! And I don't even know him and he thinks I stood him up!"

"If this guy was willing to give you gifts and expect nothing in return, don't you think he'll understand that maybe you were apprehensive to meet what could be a crazy stalker?"

She continued to sob into his chest. "I'm going to be alone again. I work so hard and I want to be such a good doctor so I stay at work and I don't go out with friends. I don't go out to meet people. I don't want to go out to meet them. And then he came along and I don't even know who he is and I could've had a date for once!"

"Haven't you dated since what's-his-name died?" House asked coolly.

"Yes," she snapped through her tears. "But once I got into med school, I was too busy! I … I…" Her sobs got louder. "I'm never going to be a mother! I'm never going to have a family and I'll be married to my job for the rest of my life."

"You are not," he responded with a roll of his eyes.

"What do you know?" she asked, pulling away from him and wiping her cheeks. "You're just as miserable as I am. Maybe even more."

That made him smirk. "I solved my problem," he said nonchalantly, walking to his Christmas tree and correcting a string of lights. "I've got someone. Can't you see how much she's changed me?"

She sniffled and looked around the apartment. "It looks nice," she admitted quietly. "I hope you're happy with her."

"I am," he answered, studying his work. "She's made me want to make someone else happy. So I do these things for her, and her smiles can light a room."

Why did that make her want to cry even more? Even House had someone to be with now. "What's she like?" she asked tearfully.

"Perfect," he responded. He sat down on his couch and put his leg up on the table. "She's intelligent and beautiful. She knows what she wants and she works damned hard to get it. Her mind works faster than mine sometimes, and I respect her for that."

"She sounds perfect for you," Cameron whispered.

"She is."

She hesitated and looked at the door. "I'm happy for you."

"I thought you might be." He looked around his apartment and decided that he could play this game no more. "Brenda wrote the note," he said.

Cameron frowned. "What?" She was confused. What note? Not the note that she'd found in her file…

"I couldn't write it," he continued, meeting her eyes. "You would have known right away that it was me. And then what fun would it be to bring you here and make you see what you've done to me?"

"What I've…? I… You?" she asked, gloved hands covering her mouth.

"Me," he said with a small laugh.

"You…? The … the roses? And the… And the gift card and the kitten?"

"Melody, right?" he asked.

"Oh… Oh, my God." Her eyes widened and a small smile started to form on her lips. "Oh, my God… You're my secret admirer?"

"Since the beginning."

"But … why?"

He stood and crossed to her. "I saw you comforting Wilson after he lost a patient. You held his face to your chest and you let him cry. I've never even seen him cry. You just sat there and you held him and you smoothed his hair back like he was a child."

"You … want me because I'm gentle?" she asked doubtfully.

He laughed. "No. God, no. I want you because I was jealous. I saw you with him and I wanted to kill him for being there with you, no matter why he had his face in your breasts."

Cameron snorted. "It wasn't in my breasts; I was wearing a turtleneck that day."

"Not the point. He was there and I wasn't and I wanted to be. And I never would be if I didn't do something."

"You changed just like that?"

"Hell no," he scoffed. "I got drunk and I hired hookers. They all had brown hair," he muttered, hand going to sift through the bottom of her hair. "They were all really good at their jobs," he admitted. "But they weren't you. They didn't banter."

"They don't get paid to banter."

"I don't want to pay you," he shot out.

She grinned. "I think you've been buying me over."

"You might be right. Do you really mind?"

"Prove it to me," she said, biting her lower lip. "Prove that you want me…"

He leaned in and slowly brush his lips over hers. "I want you," he murmured to her. His next kiss lingered. "I want you…" His final kiss devastated her. "I need you."

She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and kissed him desperately, clinging to him. "Tell me again," she begged in a whisper.

"I love you," was his reply.