After dinner, Richard cited the wine as his reason for retiring to bed early. When House asked a question so convoluted with sarcasm and double meanings about Richard's feelings concerning drinking the night before performing major, life-altering surgery, Cameron decided it was time to show him the guest room. Small, yet open and tasteful, the room abounded with signs of Cameron.

She hadn't said much to him throughout the evening. Richard had been with them the entire time. That man is having an intense love affair with his own voice, House had thought sullenly in the middle of Richard's diatribe on how botox was the underlying foundation of female empowerment. After looking at his watch, he had searched his pocket for his pills, carefully exacting one and swallowing it with the rest of the wine in his glass. Afterward, he had glanced up to see a look of mild disturbance on Richard's face. He could have sworn Cameron wore the hint of a smile, but it was gone in a flash.

He thought she'd have something to say to him when they stood alone in the guest bedroom, but she left wordlessly after giving instructions that were terse and to the point. He was starting to question the wisdom of showing up at her doorstep and asking to stay. Well, not so much the asking part. It was true he had needed a place to stay, but going to her place had the added bonus of allowing him to meet the Dick. And, he thought as he soundlessly opened his door, peeking into the hall, to snoop.

The door to Cameron and the Dick's room was closed as he passed it, and he heard nothing but silence within. The living room was spacious and very neat. House looked around for anything he could examine without disruption, without leaving too much evidence. He finally decided to start with some photo albums, propping his legs up on the coffee table and settling back into the plush sofa. He was only a few pages in when he heard the soft click of the bedroom door opening followed by gentle footsteps coming down the hall.

"I see you found the albums," she said softly, leaning against the doorway. He looked up at her with mock innocence on his face.

"Insomnia," he said with a shrug.

"I put them out before I went to bed to keep you from finding the really good dirt." He waggled his eyebrows at her in curiosity. "You might find my shrine to you," she deadpanned. He rewarded her with a small smile. There was a weary sort of fatigue in her face, but she returned the smile all the same.

As she delicately tucked herself into the stuffed armchair next to the sofa, House took in her appearance, realizing that, in all the time he'd known her, he'd never seen her dressed so casually. She seemed, if it was possible, even nicer in her t-shirt and pajama bottoms - there was a certain open quality to her tiredness that made House want to believe her. And that annoyed him.

"So...Dick?" She yawned in response, shrugging her shoulders in pre-emptive defeat. "If you take the job, will he come with you?" This got her attention. She gazed down at the striped pattern on the armrest for a minute.

"I don't know," she said softly. Immediately a look of anger crossed her features and she followed with, "Maybe I wouldn't take the job without him."

"How long have you known him?"

"Two years. We got engaged six months ago. He put the ring in my wine glass at dinner." House made a face and rolled his eyes. "Hey," she protested, raising her eyebrows, "It was romantic!"

"It's stupid, overdone, and clichd. Not to mention the stupidity of sticking a huge diamond like that into a glass of bubbly. No," House said decidedly, "It's completely the opposite of romantic."

"Oh, and I suppose your idea of romantic is what? Throwing a ring at a girl and hoping she picks it up and gets the idea?"

"No," he replied, clearly insulted. "Dinner at home - steak. Good engagement food. Maybe a little music. You ask her to dance. After a while you slip the ring on her finger. Quietly, deftly. Like it's the most natural thing in the world." Cameron's eyes were very large as she listened to House, and he rued the fact that he could no longer read her every emotion. "If you have to ask, it's not romantic." She rested her chin on her knees, gazing out the window for a while.

"He asked," she finally said, quietly. "In front of the whole restaurant. And then had them toast us when I said yes. Everyone clapped." She gazed at him intently now, looking straight into his eyes. "Strangers congratulated us. Strangers." A smile grazed her face. "He couldn't have done it better."

"Marriage is overrated anyway," he quipped.

"Says the man with the most experience," she returned. Cameron rose after a few more beats of comfortable, contemplative silence. She bid House goodnight, warning him away from her good silver, and he attempted to make his countenance pleasant-looking. He could tell she wanted to have a longer chat, and didn't quite know what to make of her self-restraint. But then she was gone.

He turned his attention back to the pictures in front of him, warily rubbing his leg. A bunch with Foreman, some with Chase - there were even a few of Wilson. The locations were unfamiliar to him; therefore most had been taken after she quit and moved. House paused at a picture of Foreman's very pregnant wife. Cameron stood to her left, holding up a ridiculous looking stuffed duck, same eternally plucky grin on her face. Richard - Dick - had his arm possessively around her, an equally amiable expression on his face.

As he continued to flip through the book, a strange feeling came over him. It was unsettling and, after a while, he put the book down, choosing to stare at the television instead. They had all come to visit her here, all of them except him. They'd all known where she lived, had been a part of her life A.H. - After House. She'd explained them to the Dick, incorporated them into her life. Had she ever asked about him? House regretted the question even as he felt himself burning for the answer. She, Chase, and Foreman had been like carefully crafted pottery - his creations, in part. To lose one completely before he'd been ready to finish it - that had been a blow to his ego and his belief that he really could get his way all the time.

Yet she'd been more than pottery. She had been the one to sort his mail because she knew he liked it when she did. The one to stroke his ego with her unflappable adoration. The "good" one to decadently, slowly, savoringly corrupt. He tried to imagine himself in one of the pictures. No good. He hated baby stuff, hated parties, hated....people. Still, it disturbed him. The family in the photos - he had created it, had hand picked it as his own and yet he always seemed to be the one missing. And though he felt in his gut that he would have it no other way, the lurking, nagging, fearful feeling refused to dissipate.

She woke up the following morning long before she heard Richard stir. Since she had never really found sleep, the ability to finally move around and make noise came as a greatly needed release. Pulling her robe around her snugly, she ventured out to the living room, hoping that House hadn't ended up spending the night on the uncomfortable couch. Satisfied with the vacant room, she then hesitantly approached the guest room. His demeanor the night before had surprised her. He almost seemed in a good mood when she caught him flipping through her pictures, and she had restrained herself from marveling at the rarity. There had been more that she'd wanted to say - with House there was always more - but she had also felt the weight of the past the night before, heavy even as she and House lightly bantered.

Still unsure about so many things, she was starting to admit to herself what she had known to be true the moment she saw him in the cemetery: she was glad to see him. And it was this happiness, this relief, this need that was pissing her off. She bit down on her bottom lip as she attempted to soundlessly open the guest room door. Once she peered through the crack, however, she found her efforts to be in vain. The bed, showing faint traces of use, was awkwardly made, the extra sheets and towels neatly folded on top. A bright, yellow post it was stuck to the lampshade next to the bed. "One week," was all it said. "Bastard," she muttered under her breath, crumpling the note in a balled up hand. Now what?, she wondered, wearily sinking onto the bed as she gazed out the window at the brightly dawning day.

Glancing at the clock, she picked up the phone on the nightstand and deftly dialed the ten-digit number from memory. The least he could have done was to warn her. A young-sounding nurse answered in a voice far too cheery for so early in the morning, "Dr. James Wilson!"

"Hi, yes, this is Dr. Alison Cameron. Is Dr. Wilson there by any chance?"

"Well yes Dr. Cameron! He certainly is! However he is not to be disturbed and I-" Cameron's name brought Wilson out of his office in a clumsy rush. He asked stammeringly if the call could please be forwarded to his office, then rushed back inside to pick up the line.

"Cameron, thank God. Is he with you?" Her jaw dropped open and she shook her head in disbelief. She began to pace.

"Then you knew he was coming?" The anger was evident in her voice.

"Not until he was already gone," assured Wilson. She rolled her eyes, remaining silent for a while.

"He's gone. I guess he must have left early this morning."

"What did he do?" At this she began to chuckle and quickly fell into a fit of full blown laughter. "Okay, I'm starting to get worried now," Wilson's fingers were white as he gripped the receiver.

"He offered me a position." Now it was Wilson's turn to gape.

"Where?"

"Where do you think?"

"Can he...even...do that? What kind of position?"

"Well, he wanted me to work under him, like his fellowship students."

"A job you've already occupied, if I remember correctly."

"That's what I said," she replied, picking at a nonexistent piece of lint on the bedspread, "So I came up with a counter-offer. Partner." There was silence on the end of the line for a time as he absorbed this.

"And his response?" She sigh deeply.

"What choice did he have? Wilson...do you know what this is about? Why me? Why now? Did something happen?"

"I have no idea. This is strange, even for him. I only know what I already told you, that Cuddy told him he had to hire a woman," he ran his hand through his hair in frustrated puzzlement. "Maybe he doesn't realize there are more women in the world who are doctors besides you." He waited a while longer before asking the question burning his tongue, "Are you...thinking about saying yes?"

"Wilson," Cameron immediately admonished, "He just sprung this on me yesterday. I mean, I haven't even seen him for three years and suddenly he's at David's grave-"

"Grave?"

"And he isn't acting like a complete asshole. Then he shows up at my apartment, asking to stay the night because the planes won't fly and his leg hurts him and-"

"Okay, I get it. Is there anything I can do?" She slowly smiled at his familiar chivalry.

"Well," she hesitated, "Could you maybe find out how legitimate this offer is? I doubt Cuddy knew he would seek me out and I'm pretty sure she has no idea I would offer myself the job of House's...well, you know."

"Sure thing," Wilson piped up, "Give me an hour and I'll see what I can find out." He paused for a moment, unsure of what he was about to say. "You know, it wouldn't be so bad having you back here. I bet you'll find the place hasn't changed much."

"I know," she sigh deeply, "That's what I'm afraid of."

Cuddy stepped gingerly off the elevator, ducking her head low so that her curly hair hid her face from the fluorescent lights above. A large, "Jackie O." pair of sunglasses concealed her eyes, lending an air of suspicion to her otherwise cheery (if not suggestive) apparel. She had barely unlocked the door to her office when she felt a warm presence to her left and the smell of strong coffee nefariously awakening her senses.

"Wilson," she almost moaned, "It is too early for you to be here. How are you possibly here at this time?" She tipped down her glasses and glanced around quickly, making sure they were out of anyone's earshot. "Don't you need sleep?"

"I believe med school shocked that need right out of me. That and living with House for a while," he grinned in his boyish way that lost its sense of annoyance once it became familiar. Any comment where House was the punch line was enough to elicit a small smile from the chief, even at the early hour.

"This better be for me," she said dryly, plucking the steaming cup from Wilson's hand. "Why are you here so early? You and House pulling those inane, frat-boy pranks again?"

"No," he replied, entering her office and familiarly sinking onto one of the sofas. "Couldn't sleep." They regarded each other carefully and tentatively in silence for a long time. "Actually," he reluctantly began, "I do have a reason for being here. Dr. Cameron called me a short while ago-"

"God, she's awake too? Doesn't anyone sleep anymore?"

"House went up to Boston to see her. He offered her a job." That grabbed Cuddy's attention, causing her head to snap up.

"Where?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. Wilson remained silent, rubbing the back of his neck as he often did when perplexed. "When I said hire a woman..."

"Oh it gets better," Wilson said with a grimace. Cuddy slumped down into the chair behind her desk, resting her forehead on her hand. "Cameron made him a counter offer - partner." Cuddy sighed and walked over to the window.

"There's no money for that," she mused, "There's barely enough to hire a third fellow, which is what I instructed him to do." She shook her head, causing the curls to gently sway.

"Maybe there's something else you could offer her? She sounds like she just might consider coming back and...it might be good...for...all of us. Have you seen some of the cases she's been working on up there? A few of the most difficult she sent over here and I deftly brought them to House's attention, but she's had a pretty good track record with the unusual immunology cases."

"Did I tell you Hopkins offered me a teaching position?" she asked, spinning around on her heel.

"No," Wilson replied carefully, noting the abrupt subject shift, "Are you thinking of accepting?"

"I wasn't sure. I mean, some things might change for the better," she paused, pointedly looking at him. "But then I began to wonder who would take my place. Gordon is a complete moron. Anderson's just waiting to get his hands on the job so he can payback all the favors he owes. You would be so busy trying to make everyone get along..." She trailed off with a smile to which Wilson responded with a good-natured nod. "But say I hired Cameron as, oh, I don't know, head of Immunology. Set her up with a staff, let her do her `House' cases. In a month or two..." She trailed off, eventually looking to Wilson for a response. As what she was saying dawned on him, his eyes widened and he began to rub the back of his neck again.

"Oh boy," he said under his breath.

"You breathe one word of this to him and I'll kill you myself," she added.

"What if Cameron doesn't want the job?"

"Wilson, please. You have no idea what it's like to be a woman in this profession. You really think she left her fellowship, left this hospital, then worked her tail off to get as far as she's gotten without having something like this in mind as her final goal?" Cuddy let her fingers gently graze the expansive desk in front of her. "This could end up being the best possible solution. I'd be handing it off to another female - something this patriarchic tomb could use - and she can also handle House -"

"Can she?"

"Well enough," Cuddy shrugged, "She's familiar with the hospital, yet she's been gone long enough that she's not in anyone's pocket. She's still a little young, but then so was I." Cuddy sat down primly at her desk, now satisfied with herself. "Goes behind my back. Well, he'll see what happens now." Wilson's forehead creased as he rose from the sofa.

"So that's what you want me to go to her with? Head of immunology? Do you want me to mention...the other thing?" Cuddy mused for a moment.

"Yes. It's only fair to let her know what she's signing on for if she's going to make the move back here. Who knows, it might act as an extra incentive." Wilson nodded reluctantly as he headed for the door. Once back in his own office he picked up the phone and haltingly dialed Cameron's number.

"Hey," he said when she answered, "It's me. So I talked to Cuddy and she seems to have a counter-offer of her own that I think you'll want to hear..."

"I have good news," Cameron's voice echoed off the tiled kitchen walls. "I'm going to be Chief of Medicine." She wrinkled her nose at her tone, shaking the tension out of her shoulders. Turning her chin up, she repeated the phrase, changing her pacing and stressing.

Richard was due home any minute, and she had no idea how she was going to tell him about the offer, let alone her decision. Her decision - the very fact that she'd made such an important one on her own had been troubling and mystifying her all day. It frightened her as well. A part of her had known the minute she saw House - had known that she would go back. But to be Chief...she wasn't entirely sure, but she was willing to try.

"Hey Ali," Richard's voice startled her out of her contemplations.

"Hi," she sighed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "How was your day?" He gave her a nod and a smile, saying nothing. "Spaghetti okay?" He nodded again, shuffling off toward their bedroom. She followed him, pausing at the door to muster up her courage and wits.

Before she could say anything, however, he blurted, "Are you the one that slept with him?" She was floored. There could be only one "him." What was going on?

"Excuse me?"

"Years ago. There was once a rumor that he slept with one of his interns. I always thought it amusing, another element of his professional degradation, but now that I...," he trailed off.

"And you think it was me," she said softly, wondering how it was possible that her life could change in the briefest of seconds, how House could exert his power continuously and unknowingly. He looked away from her then, and she felt the smallest trace of pity extend throughout her senses. "It wasn't." She shrugged.

"Why didn't you tell me?" As his question reverberated against the cerulean walls they'd painted together, it was her turn to shrug. "And the job?" She looked up at him imploringly.

"I called them to find out if the offer was legitimate," she said slowly, "And it turns out it wasn't." Before all the tension had left Richard's shoulders in a whooshing sigh, she continued, "They actually offered me something much different. Head of Immunology - with the promise of Chief within the year." Richard's expression was beyond stunned.

"Chief?" he said, as though feeling the fit of the word in his mouth. His gaze was suddenly intense and unwavering. "You're going to take it," he breathed in mild surprise. She made no motion, but her eyes reluctantly betrayed the truth. "Ali, I'm worried, " he said, shaking his head. "The way you were last night with him - Ali, I don't know who that was. And I'm going to be marrying you. And I just can't help but wonder-"

"I love you," she said forcefully, briskly stepping in front of him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I. Love. You." She looked at him earnestly. In that moment she was sure that she did love him. But also in that moment she knew where it was that she needed to be.

She hadn't said much to him throughout the evening. Richard had been with them the entire time. That man is having an intense love affair with his own voice, House had thought sullenly in the middle of Richard's diatribe on how botox was the underlying foundation of female empowerment. After looking at his watch, he had searched his pocket for his pills, carefully exacting one and swallowing it with the rest of the wine in his glass. Afterward, he had glanced up to see a look of mild disturbance on Richard's face. He could have sworn Cameron wore the hint of a smile, but it was gone in a flash.

He thought she'd have something to say to him when they stood alone in the guest bedroom, but she left wordlessly after giving instructions that were terse and to the point. He was starting to question the wisdom of showing up at her doorstep and asking to stay. Well, not so much the asking part. It was true he had needed a place to stay, but going to her place had the added bonus of allowing him to meet the Dick. And, he thought as he soundlessly opened his door, peeking into the hall, to snoop.

The door to Cameron and the Dick's room was closed as he passed it, and he heard nothing but silence within. The living room was spacious and very neat. House looked around for anything he could examine without disruption, without leaving too much evidence. He finally decided to start with some photo albums, propping his legs up on the coffee table and settling back into the plush sofa. He was only a few pages in when he heard the soft click of the bedroom door opening followed by gentle footsteps coming down the hall.

"I see you found the albums," she said softly, leaning against the doorway. He looked up at her with mock innocence on his face.

"Insomnia," he said with a shrug.

"I put them out before I went to bed to keep you from finding the really good dirt." He waggled his eyebrows at her in curiosity. "You might find my shrine to you," she deadpanned. He rewarded her with a small smile. There was a weary sort of fatigue in her face, but she returned the smile all the same.

As she delicately tucked herself into the stuffed armchair next to the sofa, House took in her appearance, realizing that, in all the time he'd known her, he'd never seen her dressed so casually. She seemed, if it was possible, even nicer in her t-shirt and pajama bottoms - there was a certain open quality to her tiredness that made House want to believe her. And that annoyed him.

"So...Dick?" She yawned in response, shrugging her shoulders in pre-emptive defeat. "If you take the job, will he come with you?" This got her attention. She gazed down at the striped pattern on the armrest for a minute.

"I don't know," she said softly. Immediately a look of anger crossed her features and she followed with, "Maybe I wouldn't take the job without him."

"How long have you known him?"

"A year. We got engaged six months ago. He put the ring in my wine glass at dinner." House made a face and rolled his eyes. "Hey," she protested, raising her eyebrows, "It was romantic!"

"It's stupid, overdone, and clichd. Not to mention the stupidity of sticking a huge diamond like that into a glass of bubbly. No," House said decidedly, "It's completely the opposite of romantic."

"Oh, and I suppose your idea of romantic is what? Throwing a ring at a girl and hoping she picks it up and gets the idea?"

"No," he replied, clearly insulted. "Dinner at home - steak. Good engagement food. Maybe a little music. You ask her to dance. After a while you slip the ring on her finger. Quietly, deftly. Like it's the most natural thing in the world." Cameron's eyes were very large as she listened to House, and he rued the fact that he could no longer read her every emotion. "If you have to ask, it's not romantic." She rested her chin on her knees, gazing out the window for a while.

"He asked," she finally said, quietly. "In front of the whole restaurant. And then had them toast us when I said yes. Everyone clapped." She gazed at him intently now, looking straight into his eyes. "Strangers congratulated us. Strangers." A smile grazed her face. "He couldn't have done it better."

"Marriage is overrated anyway," he quipped.

"Says the man with the most experience," she returned. Cameron rose after a few more beats of comfortable, contemplative silence. She bid House goodnight, warning him away from her good silver, and he attempted to make his countenance pleasant-looking. He could tell she wanted to have a longer chat, and didn't quite know what to make of her self-restraint. But then she was gone.

He turned his attention back to the pictures in front of him, warily rubbing his leg. A bunch with Foreman, some with Chase - there were even a few of Wilson. The locations were unfamiliar to him; therefore most had been taken after she quit and moved. House paused at a picture of Foreman's very pregnant wife. Cameron stood to her left, holding up a ridiculous looking stuffed duck, same eternally plucky grin on her face. Richard - Dick - had his arm possessively around her, an equally amiable expression on his face.

As he continued to flip through the book, a strange feeling came over him. It was unsettling and, after a while, he put the book down, choosing to stare at the television instead. They had all come to visit her here, all of them except him. They'd all known where she lived, had been a part of her life A.H. - After House. She'd explained them to the Dick, incorporated them into her life. Had she ever asked about him? House regretted the question even as he felt himself burning for the answer. She, Chase, and Foreman had been like carefully crafted pottery - his creations, in part. To lose one completely before he'd been ready to finish it - that had been a blow to his ego and his belief that he really could get his way all the time.

Yet she'd been more than pottery. She had been the one to sort his mail because she knew he liked it when she did. The one to stroke his ego with her unflappable adoration. The "good" one to decadently, slowly, savoringly corrupt. He tried to imagine himself in one of the pictures. No good. He hated baby stuff, hated parties, hated....people. Still, it disturbed him. The family in the photos - he had created it, had hand picked it as his own and yet he always seemed to be the one missing. And though he felt in his gut that he would have it no other way, the lurking, nagging, fearful feeling refused to dissipate.

She woke up the following morning long before she heard Richard stir. Since she had never really found sleep, the ability to finally move around and make noise came as a greatly needed release. Pulling her robe around her snugly, she ventured out to the living room, hoping that House hadn't ended up spending the night on the uncomfortable couch. Satisfied with the vacant room, she then hesitantly approached the guest room. His demeanor the night before had surprised her. He almost seemed in a good mood when she caught him flipping through her pictures, and she had restrained herself from marveling at the rarity. There had been more that she'd wanted to say - with House there was always more - but she had also felt the weight of the past the night before, heavy even as she and House lightly bantered.

Still unsure about so many things, she was starting to admit to herself what she had known to be true the moment she saw him in the cemetery: she was glad to see him. And it was this happiness, this relief, this need that was pissing her off. She bit down on her bottom lip as she attempted to soundlessly open the guest room door. Once she peered through the crack, however, she found her efforts to be in vain. The bed, showing faint traces of use, was awkwardly made, the extra sheets and towels neatly folded on top. A bright, yellow post it was stuck to the lampshade next to the bed. "One week," was all it said. "Bastard," she muttered under her breath, crumpling the note in a balled up hand. Now what?, she wondered, wearily sinking onto the bed as she gazed out the window at the brightly dawning day.

Glancing at the clock, she picked up the phone on the nightstand and deftly dialed the ten-digit number from memory. The least he could have done was to warn her. A young-sounding nurse answered in a voice far too cheery for so early in the morning, "Dr. James Wilson!"

"Hi, yes, this is Dr. Alison Cameron. Is Dr. Wilson there by any chance?"

"Well yes Dr. Cameron! He certainly is! However he is not to be disturbed and I-" Cameron's name brought Wilson out of his office in a clumsy rush. He asked stammeringly if the call could please be forwarded to his office, then rushed back inside to pick up the line.

"Cameron, thank God. Is he with you?" Her jaw dropped open and she shook her head in disbelief. She began to pace.

"Then you knew he was coming?" The anger was evident in her voice.

"Not until he was already gone," assured Wilson. She rolled her eyes, remaining silent for a while.

"He's gone. I guess he must have left early this morning."

"What did he do?" At this she began to chuckle and quickly fell into a fit of full blown laughter. "Okay, I'm starting to get worried now," Wilson's fingers were white as he gripped the receiver.

"He offered me a position." Now it was Wilson's turn to gape.

"Where?"

"Where do you think?"

"Can he....even...do that? What kind of position?"

"Well, he wanted me to work under him, like his fellowship students."

"A job you've already occupied, if I remember correctly."

"That's what I said," she replied, picking at a nonexistent piece of lint on the bedspread, "So I came up with a counter-offer. Partner." There was silence on the end of the line for a time as he absorbed this.

"And his response?" She sigh deeply.

"What choice did he have? Wilson....do you know what this is about? Why me? Why now? Did something happen?"

"I have no idea. This is strange, even for him. I only know what I already told you, that Cuddy told him he had to hire a woman," he ran his hand through his hair in frustrated puzzlement. "Maybe he doesn't realize there are more women in the world who are doctors besides you." He waited a while longer before asking the question burning his tongue, "Are you...thinking about saying yes?"

"Wilson," Cameron immediately admonished, "He just sprung this on me yesterday. I mean, I haven't even seen him for three years and suddenly he's at David's grave-"

"Grave?"

"And he isn't acting like a complete asshole. Then he shows up at my apartment, asking to stay the night because the planes won't fly and his leg hurts him and-"

"Okay, I get it. Is there anything I can do?" She slowly smiled at his familiar chivalry.

"Well," she hesitated, "Could you maybe find out how legitimate this offer is? I doubt Cuddy knew he would seek me out and I'm pretty sure she has no idea I would offer myself the job of House's....well, you know."

"Sure thing," Wilson piped up, "Give me an hour and I'll see what I can find out." He paused for a moment, unsure of what he was about to say. "You know, it wouldn't be so bad having you back here. I bet you'll find the place hasn't changed much."

"I know," she sigh deeply, "That's what I'm afraid of."

Cuddy stepped gingerly off the elevator, ducking her head low so that her curly hair hid her face from the fluorescent lights above. A large, "Jackie O." pair of sunglasses concealed her eyes, lending an air of suspicion to her otherwise cheery (if not suggestive) apparel. She had barely unlocked the door to her office when she felt a warm presence to her left and the smell of strong coffee nefariously awakening her senses.

"Wilson," she almost moaned, "It is too early for you to be here. How are you possibly here at this time?" She tipped down her glasses and glanced around quickly, making sure they were out of anyone's earshot. "Don't you need sleep?"

"I believe med school shocked that need right out of me. That and living with House for a while," he grinned in his boyish way that lost its sense of annoyance once it became familiar. Any comment where House was the punch line was enough to elicit a small smile from the chief, even at the early hour.

"This better be for me," she said dryly, plucking the steaming cup from Wilson's hand. "Why are you here so early? You and House pulling those inane, frat-boy pranks again?"

"No," he replied, entering her office and familiarly sinking onto one of the sofas. "Couldn't sleep." They regarded each other carefully and tentatively in silence for a long time. "Actually," he reluctantly began, "I do have a reason for being here. Dr. Cameron called me a short while ago-"

"God, she's awake too? Doesn't anyone sleep anymore?"

"House went up to Boston to see her. He offered her a job." That grabbed Cuddy's attention, causing her head to snap up.

"Where?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. Wilson remained silent, rubbing the back of his neck as he often did when perplexed. "When I said hire a woman..."

"Oh it gets better," Wilson said with a grimace. Cuddy slumped down into the chair behind her desk, resting her forehead on her hand. "Cameron made him a counter offer - partner." Cuddy sighed and walked over to the window.

"There's no money for that," she mused, "There's barely enough to hire a third fellow, which is what I instructed him to do." She shook her head, causing the curls to gently sway.

"Maybe there's something else you could offer her? She sounds like she just might consider coming back and...it might be good...for...all of us. Have you seen some of the cases she's been working on up there? A few of the most difficult she sent over here and I deftly brought them to House's attention, but she's had a pretty good track record with the unusual immunology cases."

"Did I tell you Hopkins offered me a teaching position?" she asked, spinning around on her heel.

"No," Wilson replied carefully, noting the abrupt subject shift, "Are you thinking of accepting?"

"I wasn't sure. I mean, some things might change for the better," she paused, pointedly looking at him. "But then I began to wonder who would take my place. Gordon is a complete moron. Anderson's just waiting to get his hands on the job so he can payback all the favors he owes. You would be so busy trying to make everyone get along..." She trailed off with a smile to which Wilson responded with a good-natured nod. "But say I hired Cameron as, oh, I don't know, head of Immunology. Set her up with a staff, let her do her `House' cases. In a month or two..." She trailed off, eventually looking to Wilson for a response. As what she was saying dawned on him, his eyes widened and he began to rub the back of his neck again.

"Oh boy," he said under his breath.

"You breathe one word of this to him and I'll kill you myself," she added.

"What if Cameron doesn't want the job?"

"Wilson, please. You have no idea what it's like to be a woman in this profession. You really think she left her fellowship, left this hospital, then worked her tail off to get as far as she's gotten without having something like this in mind as her final goal?" Cuddy let her fingers gently graze the expansive desk in front of her. "This could end up being the best possible solution. I'd be handing it off to another female - something this patriarchic tomb could use - and she can also handle House -"

"Can she?"

"Well enough," Cuddy shrugged, "She's familiar with the hospital, yet she's been gone long enough that she's not in anyone's pocket. She's still a little young, but then so was I." Cuddy sat down primly at her desk, now satisfied with herself. "Goes behind my back. Well, he'll see what happens now." Wilson's forehead creased as he rose from the sofa.

"So that's what you want me to go to her with? Head of immunology? Do you want me to mention...the other thing?" Cuddy mused for a moment.

"Yes. It's only fair to let her know what she's signing on for if she's going to make the move back here. Who knows, it might act as an extra incentive." Wilson nodded reluctantly as he headed for the door. Once back in his own office he picked up the phone and haltingly dialed Cameron's number.

"Hey," he said when she answered, "It's me. So I talked to Cuddy and she seems to have a counter-offer of her own that I think you'll want to hear..."

"I have good news," Cameron's voice echoed off the tiled kitchen walls. "I'm going to be Chief of Medicine." She wrinkled her nose at her tone, shaking the tension out of her shoulders. Turning her chin up, she repeated the phrase, changing her pacing and stressing.

Richard was due home any minute, and she had no idea how she was going to tell him about the offer, let alone her decision. Her decision - the very fact that she'd made such an important one on her own had been troubling and mystifying her all day. It frightened her as well. A part of her had known the minute she saw House - had known that she would go back. But to be Chief...she wasn't entirely sure, but she was willing to try.

"Hey Ali," Richard's voice startled her out of her contemplations.

"Hi," she sighed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "How was your day?" He gave her a nod and a smile, saying nothing. "Spaghetti okay?" He nodded again, shuffling off toward their bedroom. She followed him, pausing at the door to muster up her courage and wits.

Before she could say anything, however, he blurted, "Are you the one that slept with him?" She was floored. There could be only one "him." What was going on?

"Excuse me?"

"Years ago. There was once a rumor that he slept with one of his interns. I always thought it amusing, another element of his professional degradation, but now that I...," he trailed off.

"And you think it was me," she said softly, wondering how it was possible that her life could change in the briefest of seconds, how House could exert his power continuously and unknowingly. He looked away from her then, and she felt the smallest trace of pity extend throughout her senses. "It wasn't." She shrugged.

"Why didn't you tell me?" As his question reverberated against the cerulean walls they'd painted together, it was her turn to shrug. "And the job?" She looked up at him imploringly.

"I called them to find out if the offer was legitimate," she said slowly, "And it turns out it wasn't." Before all the tension had left Richard's shoulders in a whooshing sigh, she continued, "They actually offered me something much different. Head of Immunology - with the promise of Chief within the year." Richard's expression was beyond stunned.

"Chief?" he said, as though feeling the fit of the word in his mouth. His gaze was suddenly intense and unwavering. "You're going to take it," he breathed in mild surprise. She made no motion, but her eyes reluctantly betrayed the truth. "Ali, I'm worried," he said, shaking his head. "The way you were last night with him - Ali, I don't know who that was. And I'm going to be marrying you. And I just can't help but wonder-"

"I love you," she said forcefully, briskly stepping in front of him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I. Love. You." She looked at him earnestly. In that moment she was sure that she did love him. But also in that moment she knew where it was that she needed to be.