Disclaimer: I don't own it.
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House was in the middle of a differential with his new team when his cell phone began vibrating. He was going to ignore it, but the Foreman's stare was beginning to unnerve him. "What?" House snapped into the mouthpiece as he flipped the device open without glancing at the caller ID.
"House, I need you down in the E.R. right now," Cuddy told him, voice betraying her panic.
"Sorry, in the middle of something. Leave a message after the--"
"It's Cameron."
House froze as he was about to hang up, slowly lifting the phone back up to his ear. "Excuse me?" His voice was deathly quiet, making the four other people in the room stop mid-argument in shock.
"Cameron's been in…an accident. She's demanding she be released, and you're the only one who could ever talk any sense into her."
"I'm on my way."
"Thank you," he barely heard Cuddy tell him as he shoved the device into his pocket and made a running-limp for the elevators.
"Where are you going? What about the patient?" Foreman demanded as he and the other ducklings trailed after their boss.
"Emergency in the E.R."
"You don't--"
"It's Cameron," was all House got out before the elevator doors closed and began their slow journey.
When he arrived in the E.R., he was immediately grabbed by an upset Lisa Cuddy. The hospital administrator led him to a curtained-off bed, behind which he could hear Cameron arguing with a nurse.
"I'm perfectly fine; I'm a doctor. I think I'd know if I had a concussion or anything was broken."
"That's my girl," House murmured before using his cane to sweep the curtain aside dramatically. "Good God, woman, are you trying to wake the coma patients?"
"House, what are you doing here? Don't you have a patient or Wilson to pester?" The blonde woman wanted to know as she scooted to the edge of the bed and tried to slide off of it. The nurse was obviously used to this maneuver, and blocked her escape. House stepped in, glaring at the male nurse until he left before he took his place, stepping between Cameron's knees to examine her.
"Well? Do I pass inspection?"
"Dunno. Can I take you for a test drive and get your oil changed? And by oil, I mean--"
"Yeah, I got that part."
"At least you're not completely mentally incapacitated. So what brought you here? No clothing damage, so you weren't run over," House speculated.
"Car accident. And no, I'm not drunk or high. Unlike some people," she said the last with an accusing glance in his direction as he limped over to get a pair of gloves.
"What are you doing?" Cameron asked, scrambling to the other side of the bed when he slipped the gloves on and started towards her.
"Checking for broken bones." He sounded almost delighted at the prospect. "And I'm offended you would imply that I'm under the influence of something."
"Get an X-Ray. You aren't getting near me with that crazy look in your eyes," she told him, shrieking when he grabbed her ankle and pulled her back across the tiny cot.
"Sure you are! It's more fun when you hold still."
"House! That tickles! Let go!" When he shoved her heels off and began inspecting her foot, she couldn't hold the giggles back.
He had just started examining her pelvic bones for damage when Chase came skidding around the corner and ducked behind the curtain. "Allison, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Chase. Now go away," she told him, peeved. House had to nudge her onto her back once more as he moved to examine her ribs.
"W-What? Why?" Chase sounded hurt and confused, but House was having too much fun to look up from the immunologist's ticklish spots to check.
"Because House is having too much fun poking at me and Foreman's probably worried."
"Ah. All right, then. Be gentle with her, House." The wombat then wandered away to inform anyone who was curious enough to ask that Cameron was fine.
"He seemed concerned," House noted, slipping to the other side of the cot to get a look at her spine.
"He's a decent friend."
"Just a friend?"
"Yes, House. He knows he doesn't stand a chance."
"Against who? You? I always knew you fought dirty."
"No, against you," she told him nonchalantly, slumping back and almost knocking him over.
"What the hell did they give you?"
"Morphine, I think," she told him dreamily as he shoved her completely onto the mattress and checking her pupils.
"Why?"
"I hit my head when my car was t-boned. Right here, see?" She carefully parted her hair, revealing seven neat stitches. "Wanna kiss it better?" As soon as she suggested it she began giggling again.
"Sure," he agreed, completely serious.
Author's Note:
Still no internet at my house! It's been ten days! To relieve the stress of having no home phone, I wrote this little piece of fluff. I decided to make it a challenge for whomever is interested in it. The challenge is fairly simple: write either a one-shot or multi-chapter story that somehow involves this scenario or describes what happens next. If you decide to respond to this challenge, send me a link to it, please! Thanks for everything, you guys! Hopefully I'll be fully operational again and spitting out new chapters every week or so. Much love,
Whisper.