Disclaimer: Please don't sue! I'm just doing this for fun… no money involved…
Note: Just wanted to let you know I love reading everyone's work – there are some amazing authors here!
This is my first House fic. I do hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think :)
Thank you
Sam
Allison Cameron slowly drifted awake, only to be greeted by the worst headache she could ever recall having.
She cracked open one eye, then the other, and took a deep breath before trying to move her limbs into a more comfortable position. One where the lower half of her body wasn't mostly hanging off the bed.
That's when the cheap, scratchy sheets clued her in on the fact that she had no clothes on.
Her eyes popped completely open at this discovery.
She was spared further pain as, fortunately, the room was mostly dark, though tinged with a slight pinkish hue of a neon sign, most likely.
Trying to lift her head, Allison was hoping to determine her whereabouts.
Huge mistake, she concluded, as her head flopped back on the bed and a wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm her.
"I am so never drinking again…", she vowed, nearly jumping out of her skin when she became aware of another presence in the bed.
She released a quiet sigh of relief when the body next to her merely made a snoring sound in his sleep, sought a more comfortable position and went right back to his, no doubt, alcohol induced stupor.
That's when the events of the night before all came rushing back…
Her stupid deal with house… their disastrous date… Allison's eyes closed in shame as she recalled those awful words he'd spoken to her the night before, the mere memory enough to bring tears to her eyes.
And here I thought I was all cried out…, she rubbed a hand over her face in exasperation. That bastard! At least I didn't give him the satisfaction of falling apart in front of him. Allison swallowed past the lump in her throat. He would have had a field day with that.
No. she was a brave little trooper, getting through the entire meal, maintaining small talk over his silence, even thanking him for a lovely evening when he dropped her off…
Oh, she was very grown up about everything.
Only she wasn't, really.
She was filled with self loathing at the image she must have presented last night. Long minutes after House sped away she remained standing on the sidewalk, tears running down her face, ruining her carefully applied makeup.
A minute or an hour might have passed, she couldn't tell. She might have remained standing there if a cab hadn't passed, probably back from dropping someone off down the street. As if looking from outside her body, Allison saw her hand reach out, signaling for the driver to stop.
Frowning, she couldn't remember giving him the instructions, but nevertheless – she wound up in the nice, little bar that she used to frequent with the guys every now and then.
Try as she might, she couldn't recall anything that happened after she sat down at the bar and gave the bartender her credit card with instructions to keep'em coming.
Well, it seems pretty obvious what happened, she thought self deprecatingly. G-d Alli, you're pathetic. Having your heart broken, getting drunk and having a one night stand in a crummy motel with some guy you picked up at a bar… such a cliché...
Filled with self loathing, Allison shot a hesitant glance in the direction of the man lying next to her, but was unable to make out his face in the darkness.
Deciding it wasn't nearly as important to have a face she could associate with her mortification as it was to just get herself out of there before he woke up, she braced herself for the dizziness that was sure to follow and attempt at movement.
All that morning after awkwardness… heck, he might even want to see her again, and what she wanted was House… only House…
Allison bit back a groan as she got up and started crawling around in the dark looking for pieces of her discarded clothing…In three minutes she was closing the door on her way out, catching a fleeting glimpse of broad shoulders and brown hair with the aid of the hallway light spilling onto the rumpled bed.
The blessed mechanism called repression can do wonders, especially when combined with the effects of alcohol consumption on the brain, which has made any recollection of the encounter itself sketchy at best.
It took a few agonizing days, but eventually Allison was able to push that entire episode deep into her subconscious.
That is, until one morning, about two and a half months later…