Author's note: Ok, so thanks to the lovely reviews I got for the last chapter I stayed up late just to finish this chapter. Blew off hw and everything. Your welcome :P
Disclaimer: Wait, what did I just heard? That I don't own House MD? *gasp* you're finally listening to me!
Chapter 7 (3 months after Hailey is born)
It was him. It was him. It was him. Immediately, Cameron started hyperventilating. No. It couldn't be. It was him. It was him. It was him.
She rubbed her eyes, hoping it was a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep. But it wasn't. He was still there, sitting on the bed, multiple cuts and bruises across this face and arms.
Cameron sank against the wall, behind a nurse's station. Her panicked thoughts swirled around frantically. How the hell had he found her here? She'd thought that she was safe.
She snuck another peek at the cubicle. No. It wasn't House. Or Chase or Foreman. God had given her that much. But she would much rather have Chase or Foreman on that bed instead of him.
God. He was so cute, much nicer than she'd remembered. The way that lock of hair fell into his eyes, and the way he smiled so adorably.
She remembered the first time she'd met him. It was at a crappy bar a couple of blocks from the hospital. She'd gone there after her disastrous first date with House to blow off some steam.
"Drinking alone?" Someone sidled up to her on the adjacent bar stool.
"Yes." Cameron replied. She was sitting at The Last Shot, a seedy looking bar near the hospital. After that dreadful date with House, she'd barely been able to look at him at work. And to make matters worse, he'd been especially awful to her that day, mocking her at every chance he got and shooting down every diagnosis she'd suggested. So she'd come here, hoping to get ridiculously wasted and forget all about today's events.
"Why?" It was the same person. "No. Let me guess. Hmm... you're too pretty to be blown off, so I'm guessing you're here to get drunk."
Cameron stiffened, slightly disturbed that he could read her that well. "That obvious, huh?"
"What's your name?" The stranger asked.
"Allison." Cameron slurred as she finished off her fifth beer of the night.
"Such a pretty name." He whispered into her ear, lips dangerously close to her cheek.
Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable. What if he was a creepy rapist? Grabbing her purse, she slid off the stool. But she was so drunk that she stumbled forwards. As luck would have it, he caught her before she hit the ground. As he steadied her, she realized that he had warm, brown eyes. Not the eyes of a crazy rapist.
"Thanks." She whispered. "But I should really go."
She stumbled again, and he caught her once more. "I don't think you should be driving like this. Give me your keys. I'll give you a ride home."
He noticed her hesitation. "I'm not a crazy molester. I promise."
Although this was against everything Cameron believed in, she didn't really care right now. She handed him her keys.
He helped her into her car and drove her home. On the drive, she briefly remembered herself babbling endlessly about how she loved pancakes. Yes, she was that drunk. When they got there, she collapsed into bed.
The next morning, she woke up to a glass of water and a huge bottle of Tylenol on her nightstand. Next to the Tylenol was a note.
Allison-
Anytime you feel like actually having pancakes instead of blabbing drunkenly about them, call me. I promise I'm still not a creeper.
-Hudson Taylor (the ridiculously nice guy who drove you home last night)
And underneath his name was a phone number.
Cameron smiled to herself and folded up the note. It was nice to be wanted by somebody. Especially somebody that was so cute.
So she called him and set up a date. And another, and another, and another. Pretty soon, he was practically living at her place.
But she still wasn't happy. Deep in her heart, she knew that Hudson was just a distraction. A distraction from House, who despite his cruel treatment, she was still in love with. And of course, this did not escape Hudson's attention.
"What's wrong?" He asked one night. They were out at a restaurant to celebrate their three month anniversary.
"Huh? Nothing?" Cameron said absentmindly. She was too busy daydreaming about House's piercing blue eyes, which had stared at her all day.
"Are you sick?" He asked, full of concern. Cameron instantly felt guilty. Here she was, out at a fabulous restaurant with her amazing boyfriend, and she was daydreaming about some bastard that had broken her heart.
"Just, um, tired." She knew that was a lame excuse. "Long day at work."
"No." He studied her carefully. "You're in love with someone else."
Cameron recoiled, instantly horrified. How could he read her so easily? "No I'm not. That's crazy." But she didn't meet his eyes.
"Yes." He sat back, staring at her with those brown eyes. "You're distracted all the time. And whenever I ask you say that you're either tired or thinking about work. But how tired can someone be, and I know you well enough to know that you're not a workaholic. Which brings me back to this. You're in love with someone else."
"No." She retorted weakly.
"Yes." He said simply. "Just admit it. I'm not going to be mad."
"I'm sorry." She whispered. "You probably really hate me right now."
"I'm not." He stood up and threw down a couple twenties. "Just keep this in mind. Whoever he is, he's a damn lucky guy." And with that Hudson left the restaurant.
Over the next few weeks, he called her occasionally, just to talk. Other than Foreman and Chase, he was a pretty good friend. It made Cameron feel guilty about how their relationship had ended, but what could she have done? Pretended that she was in love with him?
"Who are you hiding from?" Gaby's voice interrupted Cameron's flashback.
"Huh?" She jumped, knocking over a box of supplies. "Nothing."
"Then why aren't you with your patient?" Gaby peeked at the file, and then Hudson. "Damn. He's hot. No wonder you're hiding."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Cameron hissed. "And keep your voice down!"
"You don't want to treat that really hot guy looking like that." Gaby gestured at Cameron's messy bun and wan complexion. "Hey, if you don't want him, I'll take him. You can go give that guy over there stitches." She pointed across the room to a cubicle with a blood covered kid.
Just the sight of all that blood was making her queasy. "Um, no. That's okay."
"Then stop hiding like a 6th grader and go treat the guy!" Gaby said, walking over to her bloody patient. "But you might want to brush your hair first."
Rolling her eyes, Cameron headed over to Hudson. Better get it over with. Remembering Gaby's advice, she quickly pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail and pinched her cheeks. Hopefully he wouldn't recognize her with her blonde hair and makeup free face.
"Hello." Cameron stepped up to Hudson, her heart pounding. She tried to keep her face buried in the file. "I'm Dr. Tucker."
She felt herself blush as Hudson looked up. "Hi."
Damn, even his voice was hot. She snuck a peek at him. Even with cuts and bruises, he was still hotter than ever.
"What seems to be the problem?" She asked, willing her voice not to shake.
"I got hit by a car. Isn't it obvious? I don't usually look this good." He joked. Even his sense of humor was still there. It was almost like she was back in Princeton, almost a year ago, and nothing had changed.
"Right, so then, I'll just, um, clean up those cuts and you should be good to go." She said, still holding the file up to her face.
"I'm not a doctor, but don't you have to put down that file in order to do that?" He teased.
"Huh?" Her heart pounded. If she put down the file, he'd surely recognize her and all hell would break loose.
"The file. Don't you have to put it down?" Hudson said slowly. "I'm sure that whatever's in it is interesting, but I think I'll be even more entertaining."
"Oh! Right!" Slowly, she lowered down the file and placed it on a table. Keeping her head ducked down, she grabbed a handful of gauze.
As she reached for some peroxide, she felt the heat of Hudson's stare. Slowly, she began to clean his cuts, being extra careful to keep her face down.
But as luck would have it, it was no use.
"Hey. I know you." He said slowly.
"What? No you don't." She said a little too quickly, almost dropping a bandage.
"Yes. I do." He said again. "Or else you wouldn't have almost dropped that. And you would actually look up."
Damn him!
Slowly, Cameron looked up, wiling him not to recognize her. "Better?"
"You look really familiar." He said thoughtfully. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Allison!"
Cameron hoped to God that no one would be able to hear her heart pound. "No." She pointed shakily to her name tag. "Natalie. Natalie Tucker. From Seattle."
Hudson shook his head stubbornly. "No. You're Allison. Allison Cameron. From Princeton."
"You've got the wrong person." She said, hastily bandaging his last cut. "There. You're good to go. I'll have a nurse come by and give you discharge papers." She turned around and high-tailed it back to her office, praying that nobody heard their exchange. Hopefully Hudson would just think that he recognized the wrong person and leave her alone.
Author's note: Review. Pretty pretty please.
