Title: Love Is A Battlefield
Author: Scorch
Email: Miss_.uk
Rating: PG
Category: Humour/Romance
Summary: Every action has a reaction.
Disclaimer: I own nixies.
Distribution: , Lea's place, my place.
Notes: My first House fic, so any and all feedback will be appreciated. P.S. No frogs were harmed during the writing of this fic.
Prologue...
Neither was sure how it started or when.
It could have been when House accidentally mistook her lunch for his the other week, or it could have been when she accidentally mistook salt for sugar when making his morning coffee, or it could have been when he accidentally stood on her bare foot with his, or it could have been when she accidentally let slip to Cuddy about every single one of his hiding places.
How and whenever it started didn't matter anymore.
All that mattered was the keeping of pride, dignity, and self-respect.
She wasn't going to let him win and he wasn't going to let her win. A catch 22, one would say.
Sure, a truce could be called, but trust wouldn't exist on either side, so it'd be pretty pointless to shake hands and call it quits. As such, each day brought with it a routine that some would say bordered on lunacy.
&&&&&&
Chapter 1...
It was bright and early when Gregory House woke up on Monday morning. Blue eyes immediately darted to his left and he took a long, careful look.
Okay.
His curtains were still shut the way he shut them, so no signs of tampering.
Good.
His gaze went to his dresser and his little orange friend containing his little white friends. Hmm...
He sat up and oh so cautiously picked it up, bringing the bottle to eye level and surveyed every itty bitty inch of it. Everything looked fine, but there was always a chance...
The cap was expertly popped off and he allowed two pills to drop into his palm, then carefully studied them. He turned them both over and triple checked the symbol that clearly stated his pills hadn't been replaced with something else. Like Viagra or something that would give him breasts.
Luckily for her, his Vicodin was just that and he swallowed them both whole. Normally, he took his time and chewed them as he had a lie-in, but his time relaxing was to her advantage, and he simply couldn't take the risk.
Greg eased himself out of bed and before using his cane, he triple checked it just in case. He doubted she would do anything that would result in serious harm, but again, there was always a chance. A quick attempt at bending it showed that, no, it hadn't been filed in half or covered in glue while he slept.
Next, he gave his room a thorough searching for any form of spying device such as cameras, bugs disguised as pot plants and the like. Since nothing seemed out of order, he deemed it safe enough too move to the bathroom, a room that received the same treatment.
Handles, lids, rims, and faucets for various forms of adhesive. Superglue, for instance, could be used to secure an invisible layer of cling-wrap over the actual lavatory seat. He'd done the trick many times throughout his life and it never got old. Which was why it was the first thing he checked on entering.
Some might say he was taking things to the extreme, but a man could never be too careful in these circumstances. After all, he had taught her the fine art of breaking and entering.
Once he was assured she hadn't snuck into his place and meddled, Greg allowed himself to relax and get on with his morning.
He grinned at his reflection as he turned the hot water on, mentally going over the plan until he was sure he could pull it off smoothly and flawlessly.
His best pair of Levi's had been washed and ironed last night. Black, loosely fitting around the leg, tight around the ass, red design on the right hand back pocket. To match, he had his best black shirt, also washed and ironed the night before, and a t-shirt specially designed for his minxy little insubordinate.
Add all that to a brand new pair of red Chucks, the shower gel and cologne set Wilson got him for Christmas, and he was good to go. Well, almost good to go.
He just needed to trim his beard a bit and run through his script until he got it just so. Too practiced would rouse suspicion and too unrehearsed wouldn't make it believable.
Greg took a deep breath and began working on his masterpiece.
&&&&&&
Her car wasn't in the lot, but that didn't mean she wasn't at the hospital.
On nice days, House knew Cameron liked to have a leisurely stroll or jog to work, while Fridays were cab days so she could go out for a beer with the other two duckies after. Mondays were her early days because she was Allison Cameron and Allison Cameron started as she meant to go on.
He knew everything about her, absolutely everything. How she preferred a bitter ale to lager, red wine to white, cheeseburger to pizza, Chinese to Indian, but that was just superficial stuff which anyone could learn. He knew other, much more private stuff.
Stuff that only a deeply obsessed stalker could know and if he found out that anyone else knew what he did, then there'd be some serious trouble happening round the place. He only did it so he knew his enemy and not because he was a deranged psychotic stalker intent on proving his love by various creepy methods.
He unzipped his jacket just enough to tease and could feel himself smirking, and stopped himself as quickly as possible. Too smug a look would draw suspicion and right now, suspicion was the last thing he wanted. Attention, yes, but not suspicion.
He paused.
Even too much attention would be bad...
Hm.
How to get attention without asking for it?
"Cripple card?" House mused as he walked towards the hospital entrance, but shook away the idea as being overused. "Not being rude?"
On one hand, it would certainly draw attention and possibly land him on the psych ward, but on the other he didn't have a better idea. Unless...
He took a moment to grin before schooling his features into something resembling a scowl of moderate annoyance and waltzed into the lobby.
"Good morning, Doctor..." Whoever said it never got to finish or got a response as House carried on towards the elevator.
Every ten steps or so, he'd slow a little until he stopped outright to yawn and rub his eyes. As expected, one of the oh so caring people in the hospital approached him.
"Are you okay?" A nurse asked. "You look tired."
Obviously new, he thought, or she wouldn't have bothered. Fun and consequently perfect. "Coming into work this early will do that to ya."
"Well actually..."
"Do I look interested? No? That's because I'm not. Now scram before I prescribe..." He purposely looked at her and double-blinked. "I was gonna say ugly pills, but you're one step ahead of me."
The young woman frowned. "I was only asking if..."
"Look," House sighed the sigh of a man truly exhausted. "Betty..."
"Bethany."
Yeah, yeah. Whatever. "Have you been up all night with a puking partner?"
Bethany's frown turned to concern. "No. Has your partner been checked out?"
"Oh yeah. Many times. Rectal and vaginal. Just this morning I was testing Doctor Cameron's oral cavity with a really big thermometre. She was in excellent health." Betty was speechless. Cool. More fodder for his cannon. "You should sign up for one. You seem to be having trouble formulating words."
Without waiting for a response, House gave a sigh full of woe and suffering. "Doctor Cameron is a female. Pretty brunette, about your height and weight, but with much perkier breasts. Irregular pukathons, no menstrual cycle for sixteen weeks prior to continous vaginal use by a very virile, very handsome doctor that Doctor Cameron can't say no to."
Bethany's frown of concern slowly faded until her blue eyes lit up. No wonder he had been a bit rude. The poor man had been up half the night supporting his pregnant partner. "Doctor Cameron's expecting?"
He grinned and looked at the floor for a second, just long enough to give all the appearance of bashfulness. "Wanna see my t-shirt?" Again, he didn't wait for an answer. He unzipped his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.
Bethany laughed as she read the words printed in red. "Congratulations," she said, her smile going from ear to ear. "When's your baby due?"
"September."
She laughed again. "Ah, a Winter Wonder then."
House arched a brow. Maybe Betty wasn't one of the brainless idiots that wandered around Princeton Plainsboro. Very few people knew why there was a baby boom in the Fall. "T'was the night before Christmas and nothing was stirring except..."
"Your big thermometre?" Bethany chuckled. "What department is she in? I'll send her some flowers. My mom is a florist and I get great deals."
He loved new nurses, really he did. "Diagnostics," he said, then purposely lowered his voice. "I'm her boss and well, we don't want anyone thinking she slept with me to further her career."
Her eyes widened to the point where they nigh on left their sockets. Sure she'd seen other office romances fall to wreck and ruin, but if this man was anything to go by, then this office romance wasn't going to be one of them. Besides, she never could resist matters of the heart. She'd been the instigator of several marriages in her life and all of them were still going strong, so Bethany knew a good one when she saw one.
She gave him a smile and a wink. "Ohhhh. I see. I'll be very discreet. What's her first name?"
"Allison," House stated with just the right amount of pride. "Doctor Allison Cameron and if you can arrange a side order of Forsythia, I'll..."
Bethany waved a hand. "I'll take care of that. You get yourself to work, Doctor..."
"House," he supplied, fighting to contain himself.
"Off you go to Diagnostics and I'll get you your flowers."
"Thank you, Betty."
"Bethany."
Must be polite to the unknowing accomplice, he thought. "I've been up all night," he said. "Forgive me?"
"Of course," she said and shook her finger at him. "But just this once."
"Understood, Bet..." He waited until she gave him a playful glare. "What? I was going to say Bethany."
"Hmm. Now shoo. Go to work and make her a nice pot of coffee. Despite what us medics say, a good coffee never hurt anybody."
&&&&&&
Allison Cameron woke up and didn't waste any time whatsoever.
She leaned to the left and yanked up the sheets, scanning the area under her bed with a careful gaze. She flipped herself upright and did the same with the left side, sighing in relief when she saw nothing and no-one under her bed.
Sitting upright, she tugged her pajama top down and gave a cursory glance around her room, surveying each of her little traps.
The wire taped across her bedroom door was still intact, stating there had been no intruder. The white powder lavishly poured over her drawers remained untouched, stating no fingers had been mooching through her stuff while she slept.
Of course that didn't mean anything where Greg House was concerned. He was cunning as could be and if he wanted in, then he'd get in, no matter what.
That lesson was heartily learned after the frog incident last Friday. How he'd managed to get past her living room traps to hide a frog in her underwear drawer was something she had yet to figure out.
She got out of bed and double checked her slippers for substances, slimy or otherwise. Finding none, she quickly shoved them on and hurried to the door, carefully unhooking the wire before poking her head around the door and looking around her living room.
There were no foot prints in the flour sprinkled by the door, which was a good sign, and the tape covering her treadmill setting dial was untouched, also another good sign that nothing was out of place. Well, nothing seemed out of place as the case maybe.
Allison left the safety of her bedroom and came to a pause next to the large fish tank, and smiled down at the resident. She was going to set the little guy free, but one look into those dark eyes and she'd been a goner.
She dipped her hands into the water bowl set beside his home, getting her palms nice and moist just in case he decided to jump on. "Morning, Fred," she cooed, opening the tank so the little guy could start getting used to her. "Who's a good little froggy? You are! Yes, you are!"
The little guy blinked and gave her a sound that simply turned her to mush. "Aw! Mommy loves you too! Yes she does! Now," she gave Fred a push into the water bowl. "You play nice while Mommy gets your breakfast. She's got you some nice, juicy crickets. Yes she has!"
She made sure the tank lid was secure before going to get the crickets. Yes, they were vile little cretins that made her skin crawl, but Fred liked them. Sure he was a frog, but that didn't mean he deserved to go without purely because of her girly aversion to bugs.
She'd be asking one of the guys to come over once a week because of said aversion and that'd be bad enough without having one of them call round every morning before work. Crickets and flies were one thing, but locusts were something else entirely.
Once Fred had his breakfast and some clean water in which to frolic, Allison went into the bathroom and again glanced around. She went through everything from shampoo and conditioner to skin cleanser and toothpaste, double checking until she felt secure that they hadn't been switched with something akin to hair dye or facial hair bleach.
Seeing it was all good, she went about turning on the shower, watching to make sure the water ran clear.
Maybe today would be the day she wouldn't have to look over her shoulder.