Disclaimer: I own nothing related to House, M.D.

A/N: As always, thanks goes first and foremost to the lovely Melissa for all the work she does. She helped me develop this plot bunny into a full story and spent hours with me doing all the research needed for this story, which is a lot of research, much more than you'd think we did after reading the story (many ideas were rejected throughout the research process). This story is going to be quite different from my others, which is a welcome change for me, and maybe you too. It's going to be longer, too, a lot longer than my recent works. It should be fun though, and I hope all of you stick with me throughout the journey! I appreciate any and all feedback, so please review!

A note on the timeline - this story is set during season one. It is AU following the episode Kids (1.19) and as many of you will notice, there are some lines from the episode Kids in the story, although they have been adapted and changed to fit this plotline.

Dedication: This story is dedicated to one of my loyal readers Hallie, who is celebrating her birthday today. Happy Birthday, dear! I hope you enjoy your birthday present!

It was time to stop avoiding the inevitable.

Cameron silently chastised herself for taking so long to make this phone call. She didn't know why, after filling out her résumé and quickly sending it off, she was so hesitant to make the phone call necessary to accept the position she had been offered. The hospital was her first choice; the location, ideal. She had always loved Philadelphia.

She didn't know why she couldn't just pick up the phone and do it. A week ago, she would have jumped at the chance to take a position at another hospital, ecstatic at the opportunity to work for someone else. She would have been thrilled at the possibility of leaving her old life (and her old, failed love, though she chose not to think about that) behind her. Everything she hated about Princeton-Plainsboro could be lost in a moment. Everything she had hated about the last eight months of her life could be gone.

If she could only make the phone call.

There was something, something internal, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, holding her back. She couldn't understand exactly what, as she had been dreaming of moving to Philadelphia and working for another doctor for weeks now. And yet something about the moment, the inevitable moment where she would truly make the decision that would change her life and the direction of her career forever, was keeping her trapped in the present.

It wasn't fear, though, because she knew what that was. It was something else, something more than fear, somewhat like fear mixed with guilt – reluctance. There was no sense of betrayal in leaving Princeton, House, Foreman and Chase. She could see this position was not the best for her, and with Vogler jumping at every opportunity to make her life difficult, perhaps it was best to get out now, while she still could. She had the opportunity of a lifetime in front of her: a chance to work for one of the leading cardiologists in the country. If someone had asked her five years ago, when she had first chosen her specialty of immunology, where she had expected to be in the present day, she hardly would have said working for a cardiologist. But opportunity knocked at strange moments: there was a leading cardiologist in Philadelphia searching for an immunologist to help him with his research about heart diseases relating to the immune system. She had taken a shot in the dark and applied.

She had been accepted.

Dear Dr. Cameron, the official letter had begun, printed on its official paper with its official header and official Thomas Jefferson Hospital seal and official street address in Philadelphia. It had been a strange change from her current position, where informality was the norm and anything of official business was a thorn in her boss's side. That's where all this trouble was coming from in the first place, she reasoned. House's inability to deal with the official, the boring, as he would say. The rules, the standards, and procedures that had to be followed simply because they were right. She lived by those rules, took it upon herself to follow those rules, because she was a firm believer they existed for a reason. It was against her nature to work for such a nonconformist for so long.

And yet…something pulled at her as she reached for the telephone. Reluctance. In a way, working for a nonconformist was fun. It kept life interesting, at any rate. Even she, the perfectionist, had to admit that it was fun to get your hands dirty every once in awhile. She could not honestly say the job had been all bad.

But she could honestly say she couldn't work for Vogler. House, maybe; Vogler, definitely not.

"Thomas Jefferson Hospital, Office of Dr. Ambrose Yule, this is Julie. How may I help you?"

She forced herself to unstick her throat. "Yes – hi. This is Allison Cameron. I'm calling in regards to my job offer. Is Dr. Yule in?"

"Yes – I'll put you right through," Julie answered. There was a soft beep, silence, and then –

"Hello, Dr. Yule speaking."

"Dr. Yule, this is Allison Cameron," she began, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible.

"Oh, Dr. Cameron!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm. "Have you had sufficient time to think over my offer? You know I would love to have you work with me on my research. I can't promise I'm the same as Dr. House, but I can sincerely say I hope to be a much better mentor than Dr. House. I can promise you that you won't find me breaking so many rules. No, no, rules and regulations are important here at Jefferson!"

She was taken aback by the doctor's sudden mention of her soon-to-be-former boss, but she hid her surprise well. "Yes, I have had enough time," she answered slowly. "Thank you for your generous offer…I am – I am calling to accept."

"Wonderful!" Yule said happily. "Wonderful, that's wonderful, Dr. Cameron. I cannot wait to work with you. Is Monday too soon for you to start? We could meet for coffee in my office around eight?"

"Um – sure, okay," she replied, slightly bewildered by his enthusiasm. "I'll be there."

"Great!" he intoned. "Until then!"

There was a click, and then the line went dead. She stared at the cold receiver in her hand for a few more seconds, wondering exactly what she had just done.

The mug of tea was warm in her cold hands. She pressed her palms to the smooth exterior, bringing the mug to her lips and inhaling the comforting aroma of cinnamon sugar. She tentatively took a sip of the hot liquid and then set the mug back down, hugging her arms around herself. Darkness was falling outside her window, and she was about ready to pull out her novel before going to bed.

She stood up slowly from the couch and was about to pick up her mug again when the knocking began on her. She sighed heavily. She had a pretty good idea who was outside. Feeling there was no use avoiding him, she walked slowly to her front door and pulled it open.

"Pizza delivery!" he exclaimed loudly. "They said you specially ordered the delivery from a guy with a limp. I didn't know you missed me that badly."

"I don't miss you," she replied, not missing a beat. "Why are you here?"

"You need to come back," he answered. "What am I supposed to do about my letters? All of my 'g's are going to look suspiciously less girly."

She crossed her arms and frowned. "I can't come back. I told you that."

"Wasn't listening," he said nonchalantly.

"Right." Her tone was cold and she stared him down.

He looked at her seriously. "You want me to listen to you more? I can do that."

She swallowed. "Right. I already accepted a position somewhere else."

The expression on his face was clear enough: her words had taken him aback. He stared at her with narrowed eyes. "With who?"

"Yule, at Jefferson." This morning, she added in her head.

There was a pause, and then – "Unaccept it."

Her hands tightened around her folded arms. "Why?"

"Because Yule is boring," he began loudly. "He's pedantic and preachy." He paused. "Because he's short." He looked directly at her. "Because I want you to come back."

She inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Not…good enough."

"Want more money?" he asked seriously. "A car allowance, better parking space?" He tapped on his cane. "Want me to date you?"

She almost laughed. "You think dating you will make me want to work for you?"

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his gruff voice softer, with just a hint of a plea.

She stared at him carefully for a moment, and then reached for the doorknob. "Nothing," she whispered before shutting the door in his surprised face.