Disclaimer: I do not under any circumstances own House.
CHAPTER 2
A week later, Cameron was back at PPTH filling out paperwork and trying to find an apartment. She was standing in front of Stacy's office, waiting patiently as Stacy finished up a phone call.
"Dr. Cameron?" Stacy opened the door with a smile and waved Cameron inside. "I heard that Greg was impressed with you."
"He said that?" Cameron asked, clearly incredulous.
"Not quite," Stacy replied. "But he wouldn't have hired you otherwise. Actually it was Wilson who was impressed."
"It wasn't that long of an interview, actually," Cameron admitted, taking a seat. "I just managed to confuse Dr. Wilson a bit." Stacy smiled.
"He told me. That's the sort of thing Greg loves, though," she said. Cameron frowned, noticing the weary edge to Stacy's voice. She filed that away for later. "Anyway, I just need to go over a few things with you."
For the next twenty minutes, Stacy went over a number of hospital policies—basically, How to Avoid a Lawsuit 101—and ended with a warning.
"Just so you know, Greg will almost certainly try to get you to do something illegal. There is absolutely no doubt. Officially, I have to tell you that under no circumstances whatsoever should you comply with any orders that require breaking the law. Unofficially, though? Just be smart, and if necessary, don't get caught."
"Thanks," Cameron said. "Can I ask you a somewhat personal question?"
"Sure, but that doesn't mean I'll answer it," Stacy replied, calmly leaning forward.
"Why did you take a job that requires you to constantly stop your husband from committing illegal acts? I mean, not that he should be doing so in the first place, but I can't imagine that he takes it lying down," Cameron tried smiling to make it seem like a light-hearted remark. Stacy took a moment.
"He's really going to like you," Stacy said.
"I guess I should take that as a 'none of your business'?"
"Well, it's a challenge. Greg's a challenge. But, in a way, that's what keeps us going, okay?" She pushed a paper over to Cameron's side of the desk. "Sign here, please."
"It never gets tiring?"
"Spend a month working for him, and I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own," Stacy said, giving Cameron a smile. Cameron noticed, however, that the smile didn't reach didn't her eyes. She filed that away as well.
"Anything else?" Cameron asked.
"You're all set," Stacy replied, taking the paper back from Cameron and stuffing it into a folder. Cameron stood up, said a quick goodbye, and walked out the door. As she started to walk towards the exit, she ran into Dr. Wilson.
"Dr. Cameron?" Wilson asked.
"Dr. Wilson!" Cameron said, surprisingly happy to see him.
"You don't start until next week, do you?"
"No, but I had to do some paperwork."
"Have you settled in yet?" He asked, handing a folder to the nurse.
"I'm still trying to find an apartment, so no, not really," she said, making a face.
"Wait, so you're not going to have a place to stay for at least a month!" Wilson looked taken aback. "How far away do you live?"
"About two hours or so."
"Well, you should at least find a place to stay during the week, because I can guarantee there will be a number of late nights. You know what? I can ask around," Wilson offered.
"I don't know, my husband won't have someone to cook his dinner or clean up after him," Cameron tried to make a joke, but it fell flat.
"How long have you been married?"
"About ten years," she answered.
"What? You seem way too young to have been married ten years." Wilson leaned against the nurse's desk.
"It's a long story," she said, looking down at her feet.
"Well, you should seriously think about finding a temporary place to stay."
"I'll think about it, but in the mean time I need to go apartment hunting," Cameron made a move to walk away.
"Where's your husband?" Wilson asked.
"He's…working," Cameron replied.
"Ah," Wilson said. There was an awkward moment of silence. "Well, Dr. Cameron, I'm sure I'll see you around soon."
"See you," Cameron whispered, waving a tentative goodbye. Wilson nodded an acknowledgement.
Cameron was surprisingly relaxed about her first day of work. She had found an apartment that she and her husband could move into in at the start of next month. In the mean time, she was spending her weeknights with Dr. Cuddy. At first, she'd been apprehensive about staying with the dean of medicine, but Cuddy had insisted. When she heard about Cameron's dilemma, she called her up and kept Cameron on the phone until she agreed. When Cameron told her husband that she wouldn't be spending much time with him this month, he asked her to make sure the fridge was stocked.
In some kind of passive-aggressive revenge, she bought all sorts of foods that she knew Will hated.
But today was not about Will. Today was about her. Pushing open the door to the diagnostics office, she smiled broadly at the two men sitting there.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Cameron," she said, holding out her hand.
"Foreman," one said, reluctantly shaking her hand.
"Dr. Chase," said the other.
"So you're the new one," Foreman said.
"What do you mean?" Cameron asked, heading towards the coffee machine. She noticed that no one had touched it.
"The last one lasted a week," Chase said.
"The one before that?" Cameron asked.
"Three days," Foreman answered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"So, basically, you guys are expecting me to last how long?"
"I give you five days," Foreman said.
"Eh, I'll give you a week," Chase said, shrugging.
"How much do you want to bet?" Cameron asked, starting the coffee maker. Foreman raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on his lips.
"You know what? I've changed my mind. I'll give you two weeks."
"Then I'll give you two and a half," Chase amended.
"Two hundred bucks says I outlast both of you." Cameron was baiting them, and it worked.
"Done," Foreman replied, reaching for the newspaper.
"Deal," Chase said.
"All right, we've got a patient!" House stormed into the room, throwing a file onto the glass desk. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Cameron. "She makes coffee? Oh, I think she's a keeper." He walked over to the sink and grabbed a red mug. "This one's mine," he said, handing it to her.
"I'm sure I'll remember that," Cameron replied, placing the mug on the counter. House grunted and moved to the white board.
"Differential diagnosis, people. Let's start with the newbie." House pointed his cane at Cameron.
"I haven't even had a chance to look at the file yet!"
"Wrong! Foreman, your turn."
By the end of the day, Cameron was exhausted. The team had run about four million tests before finally coming up with a diagnosis. She'd tried to keep track of the number of times House insulted her, but lost count after twenty comments about her caring too much, and ten comments which could easily be construed as sexual harassment. She didn't quite understand the insults about her caring too much. Their patient had recently been dumped by her fiancé and was stuck alone in a hospital going through a harsh battery of tests. Was she just supposed to ignore her?
Well, apparently House thought so. If Cameron didn't know the lengths that House went to to solve a case, she wouldn't be sure he cared at all. That doesn't necessarily mean he cared about the patient, but he at least cared enough about failing to do everything he could.
She returned to the office to pick up her things. The lights were still on in House's office, and she couldn't help but take a quick peek. He sat at his desk, staring up at the ceiling, throwing his ball. Cameron had already figured out that this was nothing unusual for House, but she was transfixed by the look on his face.
House was definitely preoccupied. During Cameron's first day, he had constantly pushed her, hoping to find her limit. He had been pleasantly surprised to realize that he had yet to find it. What he was unpleasantly surprised by was the way he had caught himself staring at her profile as she spoke to the patient, or when she was peering through a microscope. When she had unbuttoned the second button on her blouse, House had to excuse himself from the room.
He rolled his eyes. That had definitely not been his most mature moment. But it was just desire. Desire he could deal with.
As if by some sixth sense, House knew he was being watched. Slowly he turned his gaze to the desk where Cameron sat. He caught her staring at him. For a moment she continued to stare unashamedly, but then House raised an eyebrow. Cameron blushed violently and dropped her gaze. She finished packing up her things, and opened the door to House's office.
"Good night, House," Cameron said. House didn't acknowledge her at first, but when she made no move to leave, he finally replied,
"Don't be late tomorrow." Cameron, instead of being annoyed, said,
"If you're late, don't expect me to make a second pot of coffee."
"Liar," House retorted, "You're way too nice for that."
"Try me," Cameron said, turning away. When she had walked by the office, House finally allowed himself to smile. That smile was wiped off his face when his wife walked through the door.
"Hi, Greg," Stacy said. She had her coat on, clearly ready to go. "Am I going to see you at home?"
"In a while," House said. Stacy smiled, but House saw that it was forced. He sighed inwardly, knowing that his wife was not happy. Yet, he didn't feel as guilty about that as he probably should.
"Okay. Poker night is tomorrow night, right?" Stacy started moving toward the door.
"Yup. Girls' night is tomorrow night?"
"As usual."
"Are you finally going to videotape you and Cuddy during these so-called 'girls' nights'?" House tried to make a joke, but both he and Stacy knew his heart wasn't into it.
"Actually, Allison is going to be joining us tomorrow—you know she's staying with Lisa—so it'll actually be a threesome," Stacy teased.
"Oh, goody," House said, lowering his gaze to his desk. He picked up a pen and began tapping it against the glass. Stacy hesitated for a moment before leaving House to his thoughts.
House placed his hands over his face for a moment, frustrated. He couldn't deny being attracted to his subordinate. One day had showed him that. But he also knew that his marriage wasn't at all satisfying. This attraction to Cameron? It didn't mean anything but the five-year itch.
