Written for odd50out on LJ. Prompt: folders.
Disclaimer: These peeps are David Shore's, not mine. Unfortunately.

"Oh, shit!" Allison Cameron said rather louder than intended. Charts and folders scattered all over the floor of the ER as she dusted herself off. "Can someone tell me who left their freaking crutches lying on the floor?" This elicited a response from…nobody…which just made Cameron even more irritated.

"Dr. Cameron?" Cameron knew that voice anywhere: melodic and confident, but still quiet. "Here, let me help you." Thirteen bent over to pick up the charts Cameron had missed, smiling as she handed them back.
"Thirteen, what are you doing here?" Cameron didn't mean to be rude, but the appearance of one of House's subordinates could only mean trouble.
"I'm supposed to be here trolling for patients," the other doctor replied.
Cameron smiled at Thirteen's bluntness, saying, "Well, you can go through the charts if you want, but I don't know whether there's anything exciting enough for House here."
Thirteen raised an eyebrow. "I'm bound to find something in all these folders."

Later, Thirteen returned to the ER with the charts neatly filed, certainly better organized than they had been when Cameron initially gave them to her.
"Anything?" Cameron asked from where she was supervising the stitching-up of a young boy's arm.
"Nope." Thirteen looked dejected as she put the charts back. She turned back to the elevator. Cameron was intuitive enough to realize that something other than not having a case for House was worrying her. "Can you finish up on your own?" she asked the intern, who was still suturing. Without waiting for a reply, she jogged over to the elevator and stopped Thirteen.
"Was there something you wanted to tell House?" Thirteen asked.
"No, no…there was something I wanted to ask you… Do you want to get a drink after work?" Cameron was acting on impulse now, something she rarely ever did.
Thirteen looked surprised. "I'm sorry, I can't. I'll have lunch with you though."
Cameron smiled, happier than she should be. "Okay, I'll meet you at the cafeteria at noon."

Thirteen entered the cafeteria fifteen minutes late, carrying a thick sheaf of paperwork. "House's?" Cameron asked sympathetically. It looked like Thirteen was taking over her old job.
"Yeah," she replied with a sigh. Putting down her cup of coffee and the folders, she set to work.
Cameron sighed. "Generally, when people eat lunch together, they talk."
Thirteen glanced up. "Then why is it called eating lunch?"
"You're exasperating."
Thirteen put her pen down with a scowl. "And I'm also not in the mood to do paperwork. Or talk."
"Who says we have to do either?" Cameron said in a low voice. There she went, doing that instinctive thing again. "Let's get out of here."

Now, Thirteen's pretty sure they're in a locked exam room but she can't be sure because she's exploding and why's she still holding all these folders and she's moaning, "Allison…" to the tune of paper fluttering around them.