"I won't be in today. I've got the flu. Yes, I'll probably be out for more than one day. Thank you." Allison Cameron hung up the phone and collapsed back in bed. She was so sick and miserable that she almost thought that death might be preferable. Almost.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

"Where's my secretary this morning? Don't tell me that I might actually have to deal with my own mail. Perish the thought." Greg House clutched his chest dramatically.

"I guess you do because she called in sick." Eric Foreman told him.

"Sick? She's never sick."

"Well, she's apparently sick now." Robert Chase remarked to him.

"All righty then. Onward."

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She staggered back to bed from yet another vomiting session. She'd had them on and off all day. On the bright side, she should soon be done with them because she'd probably vomited up everything she'd ever eaten in her life and she hadn't had anything else to eat since yesterday. The very thought of food made her want to go running back to the bathroom but no way was she going to. She'd just ma e it back to bed and she didn't want to move.

Again she thought that perhaps death would be preferable to this but she knew it really wasn't; it just felt that way. Anyway, she wasn't really serious about her thoughts. It was just the flu she had and it wasn't serious. It just had to run its course and then she'd be as good as new. How long it was going to take for that to happen was anyone's guess.

As if in answer, she heard someone. Oh, great. As if being sick wasn't bad enough now an intruder had broken into her apartment. What was she going to do? She was too weak to go and hide or fight back. She was going to get murdered for sure. Until she heard.

"Where's my secretary? I hear she's a bit under the weather."

Good God. It was her boss. And he was coming this way. What was he doing here and more importantly, how in the hell had he gotten in?

"Hello. I hear you're sick and since that never happens I just couldn't resist the chance to come and see for myself."

"Grow up, House. I'm not up to dealing with you. And how did you get in here, anyway? The door was locked." She hated that her voice cracked but with her sore throat, she couldn't help it. Plus it was true that she couldn't deal with him right now. She was too weak and sick to fight him off and it was dangerous and distracting to have him here. She tried to appeal to his self-interest. "You'll get sick too and you don't want that."

"That's for me to know to know and you to find out." She groaned and pushed her face into her pillow.

House studied her.

"Where's my secretary? I heard she's a bit under the weather.

Good God. It was her boss. And he was coming this way. What was he doing here and more importantly, how the hell did he get in?

"Hello. I hear you're sick and since that never happens I couldn't resist the urge to come and see for myself."

"Go away. House. I'm not up to dealing with you. And how did you get in, anyway? The door was locked." She hated how her voice croaked but with the sore throat, she couldn't help it. But she was too weak and sick to fight him off and having him here was dangerous.

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

She groaned and pushed her face into her pillow. "You'll get sick and you don't want that.

"Let's see. I had an infraction. I'm a drug and alcohol addict. Pretty sure I'm impervious to colds, flu and things like that."

"Fine. Stay. Not like I could do anything about it, anyway." She started to cough.

House studied her. She actually looked terrible and although it was out of character for him, he decided to give her a break. Just this once. Because he wouldn't be making a habit of it; that was for sure.

"Just kidding. I stole your keys out of your purse and made copies of them."

"Why am I not surprised?" Now that her coughing fit was over she could talk again.

After it was over he went over and felt her forehead. "You feel warm."

"Well, I'm not. I'm so cold." She pulled the blankets closer to her and shivered.

"You must have a fever, then"

"No shit, House. I've got the flu. I have all the classic symptoms, coughing, sore throat, chills, pain all over, stuffy and runny nose, vomiting, nausea and I'm tired. I just don't have the strength to deal with you so get the hell out of my home."

He didn't. That didn't surprise her. House always did what he wanted, regardless of what anyone else wanted. Instead of leaving he went to the bathroom and came back with a thermometer. "Open wide."

"No. Go away."

"Come on, Cameron. Just do it." And she did. Maybe if she cooperated he would finally go away. Maybe but probably not. He was House, after al and House always did what House was going to do, regardless of what anyone else thought or wanted. He just did.

After the prescribed amount of time, he pulled it from her mouth. "Hmmm. 103. You do have a fever."

"No shit. I've got the fucking flu and I'm so cold and in pain and so not feeling well and I just want you to go away. So, can you please go away?"

He probably should. There was nothing he could do for her. The flu would just have to run its course. But for some reason he couldn't explain, he didn't want to go. He grabbed his whiskers and stroked them thoughtfully.

"Oh, come on now. I don't need a diagnosis. We both know what's wrong, like I just said before. Go away." She flopped back down on her pillows and pulled the blankets closer around her. "Please, can you just go?"

She sounded so desperate that he was very tempted to just go. But he couldn't. Not that he could understand why. But he could stop fucking around. She was sick and he wasn't and it wasn't fair to keep messing with her like he was. Not that that had ever really stopped him before. But right now, he was inclined to stop. So he did and he also was simply honest. "I just want to make sure you'll be all right. Influenza can morph into something more serious and I want to make sure that doesn't happen."

As Cameron coughed, she stared at him. Was this really her boss? Seemed like it. "O.K. Stay if you want. Shit! I think I'm going to be sick again."

House moved forward quickly. "Come on. I'll help you to the bathroom."

She accepted. House couldn't help noticing her pink, flannel pajamas. Did they really have Hello Kitty on them? Yep. How girly! How so totally Cameron. He smirked, but not just at them. He also smirked at the fuzzy pink socks she also had on. But he did get her to the bathroom in time, so that was good.

When she was settled back on the bed and wrapped up nicely, he asked a question. "Do you have any ginger ale?"

"Yes, why? No, House, did you not just notice me puking my guts out? I can't keep anything down."

"I'm sure you can keep a little ginger ale down. We don't want you to get dehydrated. Or I can always make a quick run to the hospital to get the things I need."'

"What things? What the hell are you talking about?"

"To start an I.V. I'm sure you won't puke up saline. Although, if you did, it could be the start of an interesting case." He smirked at her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Fine. You win. Get me the fucking ginger ale. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll puke it all over you."

He laughed and went to the kitchen. He found the ginger ale and a glass. Not too big of one because he really wanted to start her off with a small amount. He filled it and went back to her bedroom.

She was laying there looking miserable and he did, in fact, feel sorry for her. Not that he'd ever admit that, of course.

"Time for a drink." He sat down on her bed and helped her to sit up. "Sip slowly and you should be able to tolerate it."

"Should be being the operative phrase here," she groaned. But she obediently followed his orders.

Not that she would ever admit it to him but it felt good having him next to her, holding her glass and his arm around her waist. Maybe having the flu wasn't such a bad thing after all.

He then settled her back in bed. "O.K. I guess that's it. Nothing more I can do for you."

"Nope." She shook her head. "There really wasn't anything you could do, anyway. But thanks for dropping by." Cameron had no clue what she was thanking him for. Invading her space and home. That made a lot of sense. But then again, it was House. He turned her inside out and upside down and she hated him for it. Or more accurately, she didn't hate him for it, which was her whole problem in the first place.

"You should go. And, House, the copy is on my nightstand. Might as well have an extra copy in case you lose one."

"You seriously think that reverse psychology thing is going to work on me?"

Cameron sighed. "No, but it was worth a shot." They laughed together.

"Hey, Cameron, I will go but get better soon, all right. The place isn't the same without you and leaving me with just Chase and Foreman is cruel and unusual punishment."

"I don't know about that. I think it just serves you right." And yet again, they both laughed. He came back over to the bed and patted her head, just like a dog. "Just get better, O.K."

"O.K."

"See you back at work soon." With that he exited.

That left Cameron wondering what the hell had just gone on. Of course, she'd never know for sure. He'd never tell her the real reason, whatever it was, that he'd dropped by. Because he was House and that was him to a tee. She would just have to live without ever knowing. She could do that. She had lived with worse.

The End.