title: Just a minute at a time
author: DiamondDaze
rating: T for a bad word and painfully copious amounts of Bee Gees references.
pairing: House/Cameron
disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.

He stroked the ivory piano keys, losing himself completely in the rich melody that erupted from the instrument at his touch.

Patrons, doctors and benefactors alike mingled around him in a blur, the steady, monotonous drone of their voices barely reaching his ears as he played a piece that he had composed many years ago.

He'd just death-stared a particularly brave man who had decided to request a piece for him to play and since then, hadn't been bothered by anyone.

Seventies night. What the hell was Cuddy thinking? He lifted his gaze to stare around the room at the morons wearing awkward platform shoes and nauseating knitwear.

He was wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt and jeans. The band had released their album Dark Side of the Moon in 1973 and that was all the party spirit Cuddy was getting out of him.

The only thing that got him here in the first place was the prospect of seeing women in hotpants again, and that was all that was keeping him here. Having the Bee Gees thrummed into his ears for hours on end was certainly not he could handle for much longer.

At one point, Wilson had pointed out a male doctor from Pediatrics who had dared to turn up in a floral muumuu, but that was shaping up to be the highest point of his evening so far.

Until he saw Allison Cameron approach Wilson's table in the miniest mini-skirt he had ever seen. Fuck.

It was light pink and flared slightly at the hem, and displayed her shapely legs to perfection. His gaze remained transfixed on her legs as he fudged a couple of notes of impromptu in G flat major.

Wilson jumped up in his absurd John Travolta-type disco suit, asking her to dance before she could say or do anything. House really couldn't be all too angry with him, watching as he twirled Cameron around, causing her little flared skirt to float up deliciously for a few seconds at a time.

He watched as Wilson continued to dance with Cameron right through More Than A Woman and Saturday Night Fever before How Deep is Your Love started and he couldn't bear to see them dance this slow one. He downed his whiskey in one go, and limped away from the piano heavily.

It had been quite a while since he'd wished he could still dance. He was usually more concerned with just walking pain-free, let alone boogieing to the rhythm of the brothers Gibb.

He made it out of the lobby before Cuddy had spotted his departure, and made his way out into the cold biting air of the night, swinging his leather jacket back on. His right thigh reacted particularly badly to the knife-like jabs of the icy winds, and he leaned against the hospital wall and massaged it roughly through the jeans. He opened his eyes, ran a hand over his face and limped off to his bike parked less than ten yards away.

When he finally made it onto his bike, he sped off without a backwards glance. He didn't see a tearful Cameron make her way back inside to the party, her hair wind ruffled and her fingertips shaking ever so slightly.