The room's interior was dark and dreary, reflecting the personality of the man who used the area more than any other. With the lamps turned off, causing only the hallway lights to provide any sort of brightness to the room, the cowering doctor was having a far easier time hiding than he would have expected. Though the fact that he had chosen to sit on the floor behind his desk might also have something to do with that. The diagnostician had found, an office with glass walls was far too easy to be spotted by Cuddy if he merely sat at his desk. His trusty PSP allowed the man to escape from the realities of the world without actually escaping. It didn't matter what activity he was currently involved with, his mind was always conscious of his surroundings. It was a blessing and a curse. Those with a negative outlook on like preferred the latter or naturally expected it. Dr. Greg House would have to be one of those people.
The familiar sound of his connecting door to the Differential Diagnosing room caused him to swiftly turn the handheld game to mute. This however did not stop the trespasser from entering further.
"House?" came a soft voice through the darkness. The voice held a naïve tone to it even though that was nearly impossible for the average man to pick out in a voice. House could do it. Often times he wondered if the owner of that distinct voice realized how she sounded. "House, I see your cane propped up beside the desk," she said with a tad bit more firmness.
"House isn't here right now. Leave a message after the beep," he answered gruffly, switching his PSP off the mute to allow the other occupant of the room to hear his motorcycle crashing into an oncoming vehicle.
She replied with a few soft clicks of her heels as the woman walked around the desk, towards the man, and bent down to look him straight in the eye. After losing yet another life to the world of moving vehicles, House glanced up to notice she was there. Her viridian orbs gazed deeply into his making him feel as if he was on trial for killing a small puppy. She always had a way to compel him to feel guilty, compassionate, one of those feelings that he didn't very well care for.
"Think if you stare long enough at me, you'll get me to cry or something Cameron?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, hoping that a snide remark would cause her eyes to change colors; anything to get those pools of green off of him.
Her eyes softened but Allison's eyes never changed colors of left the crystal blues of House. "You haven't gone home all night have you?" she asked with concern.
"What would make you think that? I love coming into work at six in the morning. Helping sick people is what I live for!" he exclaimed, a sarcastic smirk lighting his features. Every time he threw sarcasm out there was because he felt uncomfortable or just playful. It was very difficult to be playful when you haven't gotten any sleep all night.
"Ever since the trial you haven't let yourself relax. You seem uptight, more so than you already are," not once backing down from her stare. "I noticed you're still taking the Vicodin. That must mean the rehab didn't work."
He didn't want to be listening to this. He had two more lives left on his game and with her kneeling there; wasting his time he was growing more and more impatient. "Look, when I ask your opinion on my life, we'll throw a party. Wilson will dance naked on tables; Cuddy will flash the custodial staff. Chaos and drunkenness will ensue but until that time I want you to take your caring sensitivity and leave me the hell alone," he snapped, blue eyes becoming fierce. The woman had no business in his life. He was a rude misanthropic bastard who cared for no one but himself. There wasn't any need for someone like Cameron in his life.
Those words had finally done it. Cameron's eyes dropped down immediately as if she'd been shot and was currently looking at the wound on her chest. She only wanted to help him, try and make his life better. There were no tearful words or apologies, all she did was stand up and walk straight into the adjoining office, where she stayed for two more hours until both Chase and Foreman arrived.
By mid afternoon, House had traveled from his office, to Wilson's, to the morgue, to the parking lot, absolutely everywhere so he could get away from Cuddy. He hadn't done any of his clinic hours for the week and so far, from everyone he had talked to, Cuddy was on the prowl for some House. Finally his final choice of relaxation was the women's restroom. Cuddy would never think on looking for him in there. With his over sized tennis ball in hand, he sat on the lounging couch. Suddenly a young woman who could perhaps pass for a younger version of Cameron came walking into the restroom, not even noticing House until she went to wash her hands, glancing into the mirror. A piercing shriek filled the room when she saw the man's reflection.
"Sorry. It's just…after the surgery….I may have man parts but a girl still needs to relax once in a while," she smiled, putting on a higher voice to truly make the girl flip. And that it did. She ran out of the room and not ten minutes later, Cuddy came barreling in, ready to pounce.
"House!" she yelled, her hands going straight to her hips while her toe tapped impatiently against the white tile.
"Why is it you women get a couch and us men have nothing?" he whined, looking around at the jars of popery. "You have four stalls over there that you could sit in but no you all had to be girls about it and have a couch!" House gestured over to the off white stalls with his cane before standing up and attempting to walk out of the restroom.
Cuddy, threw her arms on either side of the walls, blocking his escape, giving him the evil death glare that interns dreaded. "You've been avoiding me," ignoring his weak tries at distracting her.
"And you've gained weight. This is fun!" he smirked, mock giddiness flooding his features. "I love state the obvious games! Your turn."
Once again she ignored his comment and kept on with her reason for tracking him down. "I know you must think that I want you for clinic duty but…"
"You just want me period. I understand. Who wouldn't want a guy with a cane? Oh the places it can go…Dr. Seuss has nothing on this puppy," raising his wooden friend in triumph.
"Will you shut up for just one second!" she commanded with a booming voice that echoed through the small restroom. When it seemed House was done speaking, she continued. "There is a Leading Physicians Of America conference in Orlando, Florida this coming weekend and we've been requested to send two of our doctors down there. They obviously don't know you very well because the committee has invited you," she explained, completely ready for an argument.
"A few days with babes in bikinis? Did you think I'd say no?" he asked as if she was an idiot for even thinking that. "So who gets to tag along? Please say Wilson. Please," he chanted like it was his only phrase to get him out of Hell.
"It's not going to be Wilson…" she began, an amused expression coming onto her face. "Dr. Cameron will be joining you in Florida."
Suddenly House's whole life flashed before his eyes, mainly the parts he didn't like. "You've got to be kidding? Why not at least Chase or Foreman? Keeping the black man down again, I see," he grumbled, trying to make a joke out of his unhappiness.
Cuddy's smirk increased as she shifted her weight around to have a better look at House's misery. "I want a woman to represent our staff as well House. I much rather have someone who is ready to deal with your crap than let some unknowing woman alone with you." Her visage softened watching her friend sitting on the couch, hating his life at that moment. "You need time away from the hospital House. You need time to allow yourself to heal and whether you like it or not, Cameron wants to help you."
His crystal blue eyes drifted up to the dark brown ones he had looked into countless times before. It was then that he realized, he had absolutely no way out of this mess.