Author's Note: Hey everybody. This is just a short House MD fanfic I've been mulling over for a while and I've finally managed to get it down on paper- or computer, I guess. This takes place after the episode "Half-Wit" in season 3. If you don't remember, it's the episode where House fakes cancer to get an experimental drug and Cameron kisses him to get a vial of his blood. (A really great episode, one of my favorites). So this is what I think could have happened, if the producers had decided to take it in that direction. So, without further ado, here it is…
Chapter 1
It had been a few days since the team had treated the idiot savant piano player. A few days since they found out House had cancer…then found out he had faked it. Foreman and Chase's attitudes had been light - "It's House, what'd you expect?" was what Chase said. Foreman just shook his head at the whole thing. Cameron, on the other hand, found herself obsessing about it.
She'd been mad at first. She had given him the cold shoulder for the most part, ignored his little teasings during differentials and hadn't participated any more than necessary in discussions. She let him know she was disappointed in him. She didn't know for sure, but she hoped deep inside he felt bad. She thought maybe he did, even if he didn't show it.
But she didn't regret kissing him. Even when she was at her maddest, she still didn't regret it. There was even a certain way that House looked at her- it had happened twice in the last few days- that told her he knew that she didn't regret it. That look made her feel guilty, but she would just scowl at him and look away.
Monday morning she sat at her desk, going through House's mail. She was there early, even though they didn't have a patient, because she had to fill out the paperwork on their last two patients. She had put off doing it because she'd been so mad, but today she didn't feel as mad. After all, she could sort of understand why he did it. House was in pain constantly. He was depressed because of it. He got high because he was depressed. So wanting the experimental drug was really just his way of subconsciously wanting to be happy… At least, that was how she rationalized it to herself.
She heard a familiar thunking step and, out of habit, lifted her head to look at him. What was he doing here so early, she wondered. Foreman and Chase wouldn't even be in for a few hours. She saw him open the door to his office and she quickly looked back down to her work. She didn't look up when he opened the door to the outer office.
"You're here early," he commented. "Reading my fan mail?"
"So are you," she replied, ignoring the dig.
"Couldn't sleep," he said lightly. "Are you speaking to me now?"
She didn't respond. He scoffed and went back to his own office. Minutes later she heard him bouncing his tennis ball against the wall. She looked up to see he had his back to her, his feet up on the desk. She found herself thinking about the kiss for the millionth time. He had kissed back, after all. Even joked about giving her a sperm sample. She'd considered taking him up on it at the time, but had been too shy. She'd had to try for hours to work up to the courage to try to get the blood sample. She'd known it probably wouldn't work, that he might hate her, but it seemed worth it at the time. But he'd handled it well, he didn't seem mad at her for it. She might have tried again…until she found out the truth. But now that she wasn't mad anymore, should she try again? Without the needle, this time?