House watched as she hurried to the restroom again for the third time that day. It dully struck in the back of his mind that it wasn't even noon yet.
After a few silent minutes (okay, maybe more), which were only broken by the occasional tap of Chase's pencil, and the shuffle of Foreman's papers, Cameron returned. He noted that she looked drained.
Chase smiled up at her briefly upon her entrance, but his efforts were barely acknowledged.
Were they still together? …As in the randomly trying to copulate in a closet kind of together?
A tingle of jealousy spiraled down his back out of no where, and House immediately turned away from his team. He hadn't the foggiest idea why, but he was suddenly extremely envious of that damned wombat. Sure, he'd thought (believed) that he'd had his fair share of her. The memories of an after-hours encounter that had led to long, red scratches down his back a few weeks ago arose and nearly brought a smirk to his face.
But now here he was, trying (failing) to ignore Chase's glances at her from across the table.
And that was when the realization struck him like a semi going sixty on the interstate. Cameron was hurling, constantly tired, and quite emotional and moody lately. There was no doubt in his mind anymore, she was pregnant.
Now there was only one thing he wanted (needed) to know; the father of her child. He highly suspected it was that doctor sitting before her, who still was shooting glances, but he couldn't be entirely sure. House thought back to the night she'd nearly jumped him right when he turned the key in the lock of his apartment door. They'd used a glove on their little rendezvous, hadn't they? …Hadn't he?
Booze had played a large (but maybe not so important) part in his decision making process that night, so again, he wasn't entirely sure.
Inconspicuously, he looked in her direction. Sure, he'd planned on the not-so-glance lasting just a few milliseconds, but when he realized she was looking back, he faltered (froze).
Instead of turning and hiding a blush like a school boy, he locked onto her gaze as an inappropriately-timed comment formed on his lips. Offhandedly, he loudly asked, "So, Cameron, got a bun in the oven, or what?"
Her pale face gradually tinted with a light flush as she glowered at him. To his pleasure, the remark also caused Chase to look at her like she'd just told him something unbelievable and unreal, yet with a hint of truth enough for his idiocy to think she was sincere. Foreman just shook his head disappointedly in House's direction. Then she voiced a harsh, scalding (should have been) no.
Later that evening, lounging in his office, he almost wished he hadn't said anything… or at least waited until it was just her collecting her papers in the room, with none of the other ducklings around to ruin his big chance to ask (if it was his).
The next day he saw her entering the elevator, fingers locked between Chase's.
If he'd let himself feel human emotions once in a while, he could have (maybe) felt like crying.