"Oh, fabulous," Cameron groaned under her breath, as her six year old patient with a severe case of gastroenteritis emptied the contents of his stomach onto her lab coat and blouse. "It's ok, Colin," she reassured him in the best maternal voice she could muster. "We'll get you all cleaned up in no time, ok? Just relax sweetheart".

"Can I get a nurse in here, please?" she bellowed, out into the hallway.

"Don't worry, sweetie," she said to him, over the nurses that had now gathered by the little boy's bedside to clean him up. "We're going to get you started on some different medication through your IV tube here, ok? It should make you feel better really soon".

Outside of the window, black clouds began to obscure the warm sunlight that only moments before had been pouring through the blinds. The room rumbled. Rain, Cameron thought to herself.

Quickly her thoughts shifted back to her little patient. To the nurse standing by the foot of his bed, she said, "Page Doctor Foreman if Colin vomits again. I'm going down to shower and change my clothes".

And then she was off, making her way to the elevators.

As Cameron's luck would have it, the elevator she boarded already had several people in it. Cameron stepped inside, smiling at the family of four and two unknown hospital employees and made her way to the farthest corner. She could hear the two children complain to their mother about the smell emanating from Cameron's side of the elevator.

The elevator dinged and luckily for Cameron, the family exited. Unfortunately, for Cameron, two more people stepped in as well as a delivery person with a hand truck loaded high with boxes of medical supplies. Naturally, the side with the most room happened to be where Cameron stood, so he wheeled his cargo over, boxing her into the corner.

"I'm so sorry about this," he said, sheepishly. The service elevator is out and I've got to get these supplies to the OR". Cameron smiled at him, but it really didn't matter. He couldn't see her over the boxes anyway. "Just as well," she thought. "I'm sure I look at bad as I smell". She closed her eyes as the elevator doors slid closed.

"Hold the car!" the booming female voice said as she stepped into the elevator, obviously engrossed in conversation with someone. "Listen, all I'm saying is that you need to be there with me tonight. I've got to go and I want you there. It's time to be seen together, really. I can make it worth you while," the woman's voice was smoky and deep. "I'm thinking a Friday off, less clinic duty, more television time...how am I doing? Think I'll get there?"

"Fine, I'll go, but I'm not wearing the monkey suit. And I spend 80 percent of the time at the bar and 20 percent of it mingling," House's voice shot back. "30 bar, 70 mingling," she countered. "40/60," House one upped her. "Deal," she said, and laughed softly. "Good Lord!" House said, loudly looking down towards the floor for the offensive odor. "What is that smell?"

"Listen," she said, ignoring his outburst as her eyes roamed around the crowded elevator searching for faces she recognized. "I meant what I said about the terms of her fellowship. Just tell her already! Rip it off like a band-aid. It will be a lot easier on everyone that way".

House exhaled loudly, voicing his displeasure in the topic and the choice of her last words.

"I know you don't like change, so if it makes it any easier…" she continued. "Tell her some story about how I'm looking for some additional dollars for the Immunology department, but don't make it sound too promising. Besides, it'll make her more eager to help you find her replacement".

"This is a bad idea, I should have never let you talk me into this," House's voice was aggravated and deep.

The floor bell dinged and the elevator bumped to a stop. "You should call Housekeeping and get them to scrub down that puke box, before somebody passes out in there, Cuddy," House said, as they exited.

"Ok, I've got a meeting," Cuddy said, disregarding his comment while straightening the rumpled collar of House's shirt. "And, you'll take care of that little business today and be on time tonight?", she asked.

"Whoa, whoa excuse me there folks. Don't want to run you down," the delivery person's voice interrupted their conversation as he attempted to back out of the elevator. Signaling she was all done with him, Cuddy waved to House and turned to make her way to her office.

"Thank you so much, Miss. Oh, Doctor. I'm sorry, I didn't see your badge there. You were a real sport to be pushed all the way into the corner like that. I'm sorry for the inconvenience," the delivery person blushed, before turning his payload in the direction of the OR.

House's head snapped up and he turned back around to face the elevator, meeting her gaze directly. "No problem," Allison Cameron said softly, a black duffel bag hung from her shoulder. Her lab coat and blouse clearly caked with fresh vomit and a look on her face that made House's heart fall to his stomach.

The elevator doors slid closed with a gentle thump.

The women's locker room had been virtually empty when she walked in. She had nodded sympathetically to one doctor who was changing from blood splattered street clothes into scrubs by her locker. She quickly made her way to the other side of the room to get out of her vomit soaked blouse and lab coat. Although she wasn't squeamish about being thrown up on, she never quite got used to the curdling smell that only seemed to worsen the longer it lingered.

"Well, there's a $70 blouse I'll never get to wear again," she mumbled aloud, as she peeled the sticky garment from her back, throwing it in a small pile at her feet. She'd have to rinse that out at the sink later and see if it was salvageable.

She grabbed two towels from the linen bin that stood behind her and wrapped one around her body while she carefully pulled off her bra and panties. Working quickly, she picked up her panties and stockings and shoved them into her bag. Her trousers seemed to have escaped the fate of her blouse so she neatly folded them lengthwise and laid them on the top of her bag.

She gave her long hair one quick twist and snapped a large comb around it, securing it onto to the back of her head. All but a few strands escaped and fell down her back. Allison Cameron let out a huge sigh and turned towards the showers.

The shower floor was cool beneath her feet and she shivered as the water lightly fell onto her body like rain. She had been too impatient to let the temperature warm to a comfortable level. Slowly, the water began to heat up and she felt the kinks in her shoulders and neck start to unravel.

She pressed her finger to the soap dispenser and began to smooth the silky liquid between her palms. Not having a washcloth, she made a point to scrub unusually hard over her chest and between her breasts where the vomit had seeped through to her skin from her blouse. Luckily, the generic soap had a light flowery smell to it as opposed to the normal hospital antiseptic ones she was used to.

The steam from the shower enveloped her like big clouds as she stood there lost in her thoughts about the last ten minutes in the elevator. Her stomach was doing summersaults, her mind reeling. House and Cuddy were together? And as if that weren't bad enough, she wanted Allison's fellowship ended. Immediately, it appeared.

Her belly ached. Suddenly, the smell of Colin's vomit resurfaced and she felt herself gag.

"So this is what you do when you're not answering pages from your boss," the low, dusky voice said, from the other side of the shower curtain.

Cameron froze. Instinctively she turned her back towards the shower curtain and her hands rose to cover her breasts. "House?" she bellowed.

"What the hell are you doing here? I'm in the shower… in the women's locker room," her voice was shaky and agitated.

"Well, obviously. I'm crippled, but I'm not blind".

Cameron dropped one protective hand long enough to turn the handle for the shower off and then extended it out from the corner of the shower curtain towards the direction of House's voice.

"My towel, House," she said, as she waited for the excuse he was sure to give her for not handing it to her quickly.

House was seated on the long wooden bench just outside the shower. His long legs were stretched outwards in front of him, the toes of his Nike's just inches away from the bottom of the shower curtain separating him from Cameron.

He eyed the towel sitting next to him, slowly picking it up and fingering it. Cameron's hand shook, her fingers splayed out impatiently. "House!" it sounded more like a plea that a command.

"So, just how long did you think it would be before we talked about the end of your fellowship? Or were you hoping I'd forget about it?" Should I forget about it?"

House's voice was calm as he ignored her hand which had slowly dropped in defeat. He could hear Cameron let out a dramatic sigh of exasperation. "House, it's cold in here-- the towel, please?"

"Not from where I'm sitting. Kind of steamy, actually," his voice was just the right mix of mockery and sarcasm that normally made her eyes roll in her head. "And the view from out here is way better than what I'm forced to look at in the Men's locker room," he said, as he winked and flashed a sly grin to a young woman clutching at her towel as she quickly tried to exit the shower stall next to Cameron's.

The visual reference sent Cameron's thoughts back to the time she had found House sitting on a locker room bench similar to the one he was on now. The exception being, of course, that he was hallucinating on LSD to rid him of a self induced migraine while their patient still remained undiagnosed, not skulking as he was now. She instantly recalled the hollow feeling of concern and disappointment in him and how badly it had caused her stomach to ache.

She hadn't allowed herself to go to those thoughts in quite some time.

"House, quit kidding around. If you give me my towel, I'll come out and get dressed and we can discuss it where ever you want. But, not here". She ran her hands up and down her arms and shoulders to smooth away the goose bumps that were now forming as the last few beads of water slid down her body.

A small, white cloth sailed over the top of the shower stall and landed at her feet. Cameron picked it up quickly, praying it was at least a hand towel, just folded very tiny. As she unfolded it, she rolled her eyes seeing it that it was only a thin washcloth.

Grateful for that rather than nothing at all, she began to soak up the water on her chest, arms and finally legs before pressing the too small cloth flat against her breasts.

"You can come out. No one is stopping you," he goaded her. "Personally, I don't see what the big deal is. We are doctors and this is the doctor's shower room…" his voice swirled and droned in her head making her more and more angry by the second.

This was so typical of how he always treated her. Teasing, mocking. One minute making her feel crazy for ever thinking he had feelings for her and the next minute being inappropriate and blatantly suggestive. He always pushed her to the brink and then chastised her for teetering there. He called her weak and pathetic no matter how much she had changed to the contrary.

"He couldn't be that bored," she mused. "He certainly couldn't be at a loss for distractions or companionship since now he was with Cuddy".

Ah, Cuddy. She was just another humiliation for Cameron to endure. Rumor had it that before House had gotten shot, Cuddy was looking for a sperm donor and had enlisted House in helping her weed out bad donor profiles. Cameron had seen him poring over some of the files one night that she had stayed late. She had wondered how long it would take Cuddy to consider House since it was all but confirmed Wilson had made her list, but not the cut.

Cameron leaned her forehead against the wet tile stall. The chill on her skin had been replaced by anger which warmed her from her stomach to her cheeks. What a complete fool she had been.

She thought of the week she sat and slept by House's bedside after he'd been shot. She would wait until everyone had gone and then come back and sleep in the chair next to him, afraid if she left for one night; he would wake and be alone. Or worse, that he would die.

Cuddy had been protective of him too, but Cameron hadn't read too much into it. She had scolded Cameron for spending too much time in House's room and not enough on their other patients.

In one rare outburst, Cameron surprisingly stood up to Cuddy. She couldn't help but feel that since House had sent Stacey away and since Foreman got ill, she and House had worked better together. They'd relied on one another more and seemed to share more personal moments, just the two of them without someone (her) getting shot down. She felt like she deserved to be by his side. She was his friend not just his employee and she told Cuddy so.

But, after that confrontation with Cuddy, Cameron had started coming to sit with House in the wee hours of the morning only. The nurses had felt sorry for her and taken to running interference for her if they saw Cuddy step off the elevator. Just before the sun would come up, they would wake her and send her on her way a few minutes before the day shift would come in.

Still, Cuddy was House's physician after all and she was the one that he asked for while he laid on the Emergency Department gurney, not her. Cameron would never have believed that less than two months after the shooting, House and Cuddy would be together. Were they working on trying to have a baby, Cameron thought to herself, her lip beginning to curl downward around the edges.

And so now it had all come full circle. It made perfect sense to her why Cuddy was being protective of House's care in the hospital. More importantly, it explained why she was so eager to seal the closure of Cameron's fellowship.

She didn't have to look up the ending date. Cameron knew the remaining number of days left in her contract by heart. It was to expire in five weeks and Cuddy obviously expected Cameron to help House line up new candidates for her replacement.

Chase had asked for a leave of absence for psychological counseling immediately following the shooting so technically his fellowship, while long expired, was safely tied up in Legal under the auspices of Worker's Comp issues.

Cameron finally broke the silence.

"House, we've always known this was just a two year fellowship. I won't lie to you and say I'm happy about leaving here (you; leaving you, she thought), but I think Lisa's made it pretty clear how limited my options are".

"She's right," she said, choking back a sob. "It's over. Time to move on".

And then, with all the chutzpah she could muster, she slid the shower curtain to the side and stepped out of the shower to stand by his outstretched legs. The tiny washcloth lay discarded at her feet.

In thinking of that moment later in her life, Cameron wished she had been able to snap a picture of House's expression as she stood before him.

"God, you're weak," she said, flatly as she bent slightly at the waist over his cane to retrieve her long sought-after towel. Her small, but perfectly symmetrical breasts swayed slightly from the downward motion. Her nipples were hard and erect from the cold. And when she stood back up, wrapping the towel around her, she noted she'd never really recalled his mouth ever being open for so long without a witty remark flying out of it.

"Close your mouth before it freezes like that. Cuddy will wonder what you've been up to," and with that she turned on a beautiful heel and began to walk away.

"Now who's pathetic?"she proudly said aloud, as she brushed away a defiant tear from her lashes.

Cameron had changed into a clean bra and panties as well as a spare pair of jeans and tight fitting v-neck red sweater. She laughed at the irony of the sweater she had thrown into her bag at the beginning of the week. It was the same sweater she had been wearing the day House gave himself the migraine and she found him hallucinating in the shower room.

She grabbed a fresh towel from the bin and wrapped her vomit stained blouse and bra within it and shoved the ball of terrycloth into her bag. She threw the strap onto her shoulder and stretched her neck out to where she'd left House.

He was sitting in the same position with the same expression on his face. He hadn't moved one muscle. It was if he had been carved out of wood and set there to guard something that was already lost.

"Goodbye, House," she said, softly to herself.

She popped her iPod ear buds into her ears and walked out the door. Patty Griffin's haunting voice filled her head as she walked straight and tall into the lobby, opened her umbrella and walked out the door.

It's hard to listen to a hard hard heart

Beating close to mine

Pounding up against the stone and steel

Walls that I won't climb

Sometimes a hurt is so deep deep deep

You think that you're gonna drown

Sometimes all I can do is weep weep weep

With all this rain falling down

Strange how hard it rains now

Rows and rows of big dark clouds

Well I'm holding on underneath this shroud

Rain

It's hard to know when to give up the fight

Some things you want will just never be right

It's never rained like it has to-night before

Now I don't wanna beg you baby

For something maybe you could never give

I'm not looking for the rest of your life

I just want another chance to live

Strange how hard it rains now

Rows and rows of big dark clouds

Well I'm still alive underneath this shroud…..Rain