"Janie, I need that file right now," Cameron called out from her office for the third time.

"We're still looking for it Dr. Cameron," came the nervous, high-pitched reply.

It had been nearly a month since Cameron started back at Princeton Plainsboro and she was having the kind of day that made her question her decision to do so. As Cuddy had promised, Cameron was given leave to hire two fellows for her department that would specifically work with her on various mysterious immunology cases. Janie Croup and Laura Stack had reminded Cameron a little of herself as a beginning fellow, but each possessed a drive that reminded her more of Foreman and Chase's attempts to one-up each other.

"I don't understand," she said, walking into the conference room adjoining her office. "It was here this morning. I saw it. I mean, I put it here - I found it. I ordered a CT scan. How does a file just disappear?"

Janie and Laura apprehensively watched their new boss as they continued to sift through various piles of paper on their desks. The only thing the young doctors had known about their potential superior before being hired was that she had worked under the infamous Dr. House. Though Cameron appeared to them to be compassionate yet firm, they were each waiting for the day when the other shoe would drop, when Dr. Cameron would order them to badger a patient or perform illegal tests.

The two women had not had much contact with Dr. House since being hired. Any cases that Dr. Cameron had consulted on she kept to herself, choosing instead to busy her own staff strictly with mysterious immunology cases. Unbeknownst to Cameron, however, they had become friends with the two fellows in House's department. The foursome alternated between showing off for each other and dissecting the strange relationship between their superiors. Rumors ran, elaborate and rampant, throughout both the hospital and the larger medical community, and the four doctors looked upon the mystery of Dr. Cameron and Dr. House as their own differential diagnosis quandary.

"I've got it!" Cameron called out triumphantly, holding up her hand to stop the search.

"You found the file?" Laura asked in relief.

"No, but patients, unlike files, do not disappear. We'll just start a new file until we can find the old one. Laura, why don't you call and see if she's had the CT yet." Cameron triumphantly returned to her office only to have an uneasy Laura tap at the door a few minutes later.

"What's wrong? Has she had the scan?" Cameron's forehead crinkled.

"Not exactly," she replied. "She's scheduled for one, only you're no longer listed as her doctor."

"What?" Cameron slowly shook her head in disbelief. "Well who-" She paused abruptly, her face slackening. She rose from her chair, hands balled into tight fists at her side. "Damn it."

"Okay, so we start her on antibiotics in case Clark is right, and we give her steroids in case Miller is right," House said, looking slightly bored. His legs were propped up on the table in the conference room as he sat across from his eager fellows. The white board stood at attention, filled with the results of the past thirty minutes of brainstorming.

"I think Dr. Cameron was working on ruling out some immune diseases first," Miller pointed out as Clark was heading toward the door.

"Do you see Dr. Cameron here?" House retorted, mockingly looking around the room.

"You bastard!" Cameron's voice was uncharacteristically loud as she burst into the room.

Purposely refusing to regard her, House turned toward Miller saying, "Figuratively speaking."

"You stole my patient!"

"Now run along my little healers," House said dismissively, continuing to ignore Cameron. He swung his legs off the table and began to make his way over to his office.

"What should I do about the CT scan?" Miller unwisely asked despite Clark's motions that they should leave. House shot the doctor an icy glare.

"Are you referring to the CT scan that I ordered for my patient?" Cameron continued, refusing to be ignored. She walked over to the white board, quickly scanning it. "And what the hell is this? Did you even read the patient history?"

House finally turned in her direction, his face blank. "That time of the month?" She shot daggers at him through her blue eyes. Clark took the moment of silence to grab the back of Miller's lab coat, pulling him out of the room and down the hallway.

Cameron walked up to House, preventing him from leaving the conference room. "You stole my patient," she said again, her voice eerily quiet yet just as intense as when she'd been yelling.

"Yeah," House said, leaning forward expectantly with an annoyingly bored look on his face.

"You're pissed at me, I get that. But I did not come all the way back here to waste my time and abilities. You've used me on maybe two cases since I've been back, and both were random, generic consults that even Wilson could have given you. You cut me out of your cases, fine. But you stay the hell away from mine." She shot him one more glare before turning to leave.

"I found an interesting case that I thought needed my immediate attention. `Your' patient, `my' patient. Really Dr. Cameron, this competitive streak in you is most disturbing."

"You can't just take something because you want it," she turned back towards him, defiantly pushing out her chin. He shrugged his shoulders as he mocked her by wincing thoughtfully in response. "I don't work for you. You don't control me anymore."

"Mmm. Are you suggesting I controlled you in the past? Because I'm forgetting now - when was the part where I told you to leave?" For the first time he saw something besides anger flash in her eyes, yet she still refused to look away and he was mildly surprised. As quickly as the "something" had appeared, she masked it - another new skill, he noted.

"You don't have to tell people to leave," she said softly, heavily, as Wilson walked into the room in trepidation. "They just seem to do that on their own." Wilson's eyes were round with concern as he witnessed the strained tension between House and Cameron. At her words, House had set his jaw, steeling fixing his gaze on her forehead. He seemed calm and in control, but Wilson noticed his thumb silently digging into the handle of his cane.

After her unexpected remark, Cameron took a sudden breath, her eyes momentarily betraying her regret. She hadn't quite mastered the mask as well as House. Not knowing what else to do, she turned on her heel and charged out of the office. Despite her hash words, Wilson sensed that House was disappointed at her departure. He looked at his old friend in silence for a moment, knowing that House would make the first move when he was ready.

"What's wrong?" House asked, rolling his eyes as he went into his office, "Did I steal your patient too?"

"I heard shouting."

"So?"

"From someone other than you." After hesitating a moment, Wilson took the seat in front of House's desk, comfortably settling back. House continued to pace behind his desk, randomly bouncing his cane off the floor. After a few more minutes Wilson said wearily, "You stole her patient?"

House snorted. "You going to give me a time out? This isn't grade school."

"No," Wilson nodded, "Antagonizing the pretty girl because she wouldn't go to the dance with you seems a bit more high school."

"Is it `bring your repressed memories to work' day again?" House shot back.

Ignoring his remark, Wilson continued, "Look, you're the one that asked her back. I still don't know why. I also don't know why the hell she's actually here. I do know that you've been ignoring her for a month now simply because you're angry that you didn't get your way." House gave him a look that said `enough,' but Wilson would have none of it.

"Are you ever going to actually tell me why you went after her? Or is this just another `put your blind trust in me' moment, all will be revealed in time?" House responded by turning on his music. Loud. "Fine," Wilson's voice strained over the music, "I just wish I would have told her to never come. What was I thinking?"

Though he made no body movement, House's eyes thoughtfully focused on Wilson's retreating figure. So Cameron had consulted with Wilson before coming - and he had actually signed off on the move. His interest was piqued by both of these facts and he made a mental note to be on the lookout for further information.

He closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him as he replayed his encounter with Cameron. The case had legitimately caught his attention. Granted, it came via his overhearing one of the underlings recounting a lunch conversation with one of Cameron's hot new acquisitions - but an interesting case was an interesting case. The fact that his "pilfering" would piss the hell out of Cameron was simply a bonus.

House had decided that, by not taking the position he had offered, she would have to earn her way back into the department. She was clearly Cuddy's hopeful protg now, and he would need to change that before rewarding her with a return to...well...to the "weird" way things had once been. Wilson had been right - he'd fought her attempts to weigh in on cases for about a month. Stealing her patient had been another significant reminder that she would play for his team or no team. And she had reacted in typical Cameron fashion. A small smile tugged at the corners of House's mouth. Predictable.

"House stole my patient!" Cameron said emphatically, causing Cuddy's dark head to snap up in surprise. She had bypassed Cuddy's newest secretary and his protestations, barging into the room unannounced and unthinking. She'd been in a blind rage since leaving House's office, rage mixed with embarrassment. She hated that House's fellows had seen her so uncontrolled, so irate. She especially hated that Wilson had seen her act so petty and childish. So, taking her show on the road, she'd marched over to Cuddy's office hoping and desperately looking for some semblance of control.

She had failed.

"I'll have to call you back," Cuddy said into the phone with irritation in her voice. She pointedly glared at Cameron who was now pacing back on forth, her face oddly contorted with a mixture of embarrassment, sorrow, and weariness.

Cuddy's secretary smugly stood at the door and said, "Dr. Cuddy, I tried to tell her you were not to be disturbed but -"

"I'm sorry," Cameron fired off in his direction, low and pleading. Giving her a sour look, the man rolled his eyes and retreated, mumbling something incoherently. Cameron paused as she thought she heard the name House, but was swiftly reminded of her present situation by Cuddy's loud sigh as she rose from her chair.

"Dr. Cameron...?" Cuddy trailed off, bewildered. She'd seen behavior like this very few times from the young immunologist, and only in the most serious of circumstances.

Cameron threw herself rather ungracefully onto the couch with a sigh, burying her head in her hands. "I'm sorry, really, I - I don't know what's wrong with me." She glanced up at a very lost-looking Cuddy and continued, "I'm not like this. Ask anyone at Memorial. I - I've never acted like this. And I've been angry, believe me. Memorial has its fair share of idiot doctors. But I have not acted like this since -" She stopped abruptly, unable to meet Cuddy's eyes.

"Since five years ago?" Cuddy helpfully supplied. She gave Cameron a moment to collect herself before continuing on. "Look, I know he's an ass, but he also happens to be a genius. The head of any hospital will tell you the same story - you just can't get away from it. And...if you hope to become head someday...you're going to have to learn to deal with it better than this."

"Easier said than done." Cameron looked at Cuddy thoughtfully. "Have any suggestions?"

"Oh please," she answered, rolling her eyes, "You managed to work with him before."

"Yeah, but I was working under him - I had no power." Cuddy looked at Cameron with exaggerated skepticism. "Fine. It just feels different."

"Well, it's not. He's not different, the hospital isn't all that different - you're not different." Cameron's eyes widened, an incensed protestation on her lips. "What I mean is you're a better doctor now, of course, but you're still...you."

At that Cameron finally became silent. Was Cuddy right, she mused, had she really not changed at all? One of the philosophies that had forced her to come back was the notion that this time would be different, that she had changed and could start in the same place again, expecting a different outcome. She knew House hadn't changed, but if she too was the same...then it would only be a matter of time before her world crumbled around her, leaving her with a longing sense of guilt and the all-knowing certitude of House. And that could not - would not - happen.

"I'm sorry again for barging in here," Cameron said as she moved to the door. "And you're right; I've been here before and I'll find a way." Cuddy nodded thoughtfully as she watched the still-young immunologist retreat. She punched a familiar number into the phone on her desk and sighed wearily when someone picked up on the other end.

"I'm sorry - which one of us though it would be okay to hire Cameron again? `Cause that's who's buying round number one tonight."

House stared at the screen in front of him with a solitary focus that enveloped the room. He was missing something. He was missing something and, damn it, it was her fault. She'd had the desired reaction, had reconfirmed that, although he never could decipher her in the past, he was still able to predict her actions. Most of her actions. For example, why hadn't she come back after storming to Cuddy? A month of anger had suddenly boiled to the surface and she had yet to come back for round two.

Perhaps Cuddy had talked her out of it. He stopped that part of his brain for moment as his eyes instinctively alerted him to something on the screen. As he reached out to draw the set closer, a fly buzzed out at him. "Damn," he cursed softly. Sure, Cuddy might have talked her out of having a shout-fest, but she certainly wouldn't have discouraged Cameron from being a thorn in his side. So where the hell was she?

As if on cue, he heard the aged `whoosh' sound of the door along with the soft clap of heels on carpet. A smug smile more than tugged at his lips - a measured indulgence allowed only because he faced away from the door. Finally, the show could continue. Perhaps he'd even get closer to why she'd returned.

"Is that her chest CT?" Her voice was soft, low - calm. Ah, so that's how she would try to play it. Too bad she didn't realize he'd been a step ahead of her for three years. He gave a single nod without removing his eyes from the screen.

"Cuddy take you out for an ice cream cone?" The lilt of his voice was satisfyingly taunting. She remained silent and a sudden spark of frustration was born. He began to twirl his cane absently.

"A dozen different doctors have looked at her chest CT, including your staff. None of them found anything. So the question is, why are you looking at it?" she continued on as though she were taking part in a completely different conversation. He snorted softly, but there was a sense of pleading under his stubbornness for her to begin their game already in the way he knew she would. This was what they did, what they were. "You don't trust your staff?" Her mock surprise was his only answer.

His chuckle was low and sarcastic. "There's something there," he said absently as a way to keep her occupied while he mentally retreated and set up for a different attack. No, he could not quite predict her every move. Not yet. Before he'd scouted out a new camp, however, her breath was on the back of his neck and her hair dangling so close to his face and her smell - God her smell. He'd been trying to get a whiff of it since the cemetery to no avail. He felt the weight of his eyes, dark and full, as he sharply turned them on her.

She was delicately leaning over his shoulder, her fragile arm pointing to the backlit photo. She spoke words that became stuck in the processing center of his brain as he fought against being surprised.

"House, did you hear me? I think I saw something there," she repeated, looking as though she had no idea what she was doing to him. Then, just like that, she was gone. No more breath, no more scent.

"Just a fly," he mumbled, quickly moving to shut off the light.

"No," she said insistently, grabbing his hand that hovered over the switch. He immediately relinquished control, recoiling a little as though her touch burned his skin. Yet she didn't notice, busy as she was swatting at the image. She was focused, determined. For the first time House wondered if perhaps he'd been wrong - underestimating her game plan. "There," she said again, her face almost next to the board. The glow cast her features in an eerie light that made her look translucent and cold. House was captivated, yet found himself succumbing to the case once again.

"Where," he muttered, and stood next to her, invading her personal space in a way that moments ago would have stopped time, but that now took a backseat to their search. And then he saw it: a smallish, dark spot that looked different from the rest. Solution. Release. And the immediate, haunting echo of pain in his leg.

So intently was he gazing at the spot that he didn't notice her departure until, from the doorway, he heard a gentle, "Night House." He turned his head only slightly, gazing at the vacant spot to his right she had just filled. He was relieved that the moment was his once again; despondent that it had ever been anything but.