Heya. This is my first House-fic, so positive feed-back is certainly welcomed. Spoilers for some of first season, specifically the episodes just before Love Hurts. And just a note, could you try to keep reviews spoiler-free? -covers ears- La, la, la, can't hear you, haven't seen Season Two, don't tell me anything! Thanks! Oh, and reviews are much appreciated. I love you! (Okay, not really, but I do appreciate you very, very much!)

Disclaimer: House no es mio.

Chapter One

It had been two days since House had told her that he didn't like her. The edge was beginning to wear off of her hurt and it was being replaced by numbness. It wasn't surprising. She spent most of her life in that emotionless place. It kept her professional, kept her functioning, kept her sane. But…

House was entirely wrong. He was loud, rude, obnoxious, lewd, irritating, maddening… and yet somehow, he was so right. She had been willing to let her insincerely pleasant exterior slip, had been willing to let go. For him. He made her feel… not so numb. Like she was actually alive again. Because honestly, she had been dead for quite some time.

She suspected that he had been, too; closing his doors and using sarcasm to hide himself. She had hoped… Ah, but hope was for suckers, she interjected.

Still, she may as well be open with herself, at least. What had she hoped? She searched herself for a moment before she found an answer.

She had hoped they could save each other.

So much for that, though.

Foreman had asked her a question. How much did she like House? She hadn't answered, partially because she hadn't wanted to and partially because she hadn't even known.

Cameron looked into the mirror. She saw the same pretty face that always looked back at her. She scrutinized the woman before her and came to the conclusion she hadn't been able to reach earlier.

How much did she like House?

A lot. A whole lot. She wouldn't play with illusions, would not be naïve enough to say that she loved Gregory House. But she was close… so much closer than she thought.

Cameron did not fall in love. She had boyfriends and lovers, and they suited her well
and fine, but eventually she always severed ties before they got too attached to her, because in her heart Cameron knew that she could never love any of them. But somehow House had snuck into her affections without her even noticing, nor for any reason on her part that she could find.

And it had hurt when he had pushed her away. Hurt because she had really thought that maybe, just maybe… he could have loved her, too.

Later that day, he had said, "Cameron's my girl," and that had hurt most of all, because she wished that she could be just that. His girl.

Of course, it was shrugged off, just like all of his remarks and compliments.

You're pretty, Cameron.

Good theory.

Everyone likes you.

Except, it seemed, the only person who mattered.

Well. Gregory House did not like her, and she damned near loved him. She brushed her hair back from her face and let her placid, clinical mask fall back into place. She would deal with this as she always had – push back her emotions. Remain professional. And if she had to live the rest of her life without feeling anything, then so be it. Allison Cameron would not break.

But deep down, Cameron knew that something was already breaking. Her heart.

She sank to the ground. She would let herself weep just this once for Gregory House, and for what could've been, and for herself – the eternal ice queen – before she closed her heart.

The tears came hot and fast and for a time, Cameron allowed herself to become lost in emotion. It felt so good and so honest. But it could only be just this once.

She eventually came back to herself, sniffling on the floor of her apartment and feeling
like an imbicile for it. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her damp, hot cheeks while the pounding in her head began to slow. And it was as she sat quietly on the ground in the after-haze of tears that a paper was slipped beneath her door. With a tired sigh, she pulled herself to her feet to retrieve it.

I'm not in the mood for games, she grumbled silently. Still, her curiosity got the better of her. She unfolded it…

Dear Cameron,

I lied.

-H

P.S. I'm sorry.