A Hard Day's Night

"Would you stop squirming?" snapped Cameron. House had been tossing and turning for the last twenty minutes. He and Cameron were in the same seats they'd been in all day, but now their seats were tilted all the way back so that they could lie down… kind of.

"Sorry," he said. "I can't get comfortable."

Cameron sat up. "Is it your leg?"

When House didn't answer, Cameron assumed that his leg was indeed the problem.

"Did you bring your vicodin?" she asked. Her voice was filled with care and worry for the man in the driver's seat.

"Of course I brought it," he said.

"So why don't you take some," she said. "We won't be driving for a while, and it may help you get some sleep."

House thought briefly before pulling the bottle out of his pocket. "Fine, but if any cops catch us, it was your idea. Got it?"

Cameron smirked. "Just take your vicodin."

"Yes, ma'am!" House popped two of the pills into his mouth. He closed his eyes, waiting for the relief to come. It was taking too long.

Cameron was still sitting up straight, staring at him. "House?"

"What?"

"I have an idea," she said rather reluctantly. There was something on her mind, but she wasn't sure whether she should tell House what that was.

"What?"

"The back seats fold up," she said. "I could fold them in, and we could lie in the back instead of up here."

House was about to speak, but Cameron continued her ramble. She always rambled when she was uncomfortable with something.

"I mean, it would be better for your leg," she continued. "You could stretch it out, and—."

"Cameron." House interrupted her. "Stop rambling."

Cameron stared at House. He seemed tired and worn from the pain in his leg and the long day of driving. "Sorry," she whispered.

House sat up and grabbed his pillow.

"What are you doing?" asked Cameron. She watched House sit his seat up straight.

"I assume you can't have these seats back if you want to lie in the back."

Cameron nodded and straightened her seat. The two got out of the car and made their way to the back seat. House watched as Cameron folded the seats up and under almost expertly. She looked like the stereotypical soccer mom as she did it. House smiled as he watched her.

"What are you smiling at?" asked Cameron. She grabbed the suitcases and started to load them into the front seat.

"Nothing," said House. He hadn't even realized he was smiling at her until she mentioned it. He threw his pillow in the back and lay down. He was soon joined by Cameron who did the same.

"What time is it?" asked Cameron.

House pulled out his phone to look at the clock on it. "It's almost midnight."

Cameron sighed. "What time did Foreman and Chase leave?"

"About twenty minutes ago," said House. He laughed.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Sorry, it seemed like a lot longer."

House didn't respond. Instead, he closed his eyes and drifted off into slip as the vicodin kicked in. Noticing his peacefulness, Cameron closed her eyes as well.

&&&&&

"Are we there yet?" asked Chase groggily. His eyes were threatening to close as he walked alongside Foreman in the dark of the night.

"No," sighed Foreman.

"Where are we anyways?" asked Chase.

"We're on I-76," said Foreman. "We just got out of Philadelphia."

Chase nodded.

"Well," continued Foreman. "I guess technically we aren't on the interstate anymore. House pulled off on some local road when the car started acting up."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Why doesn't he just listen to Cameron?"

"What?" Foreman asked.

"If he would have just listened to her," said Chase. "We wouldn't be stuck walking to a gas station in the middle of the night."

"What're you gonna do about it?" Foreman joked. "House is a jerk. He's never going to listen to Cameron."

Chase snorted as headlights appeared in the distance. "Please let that be House."

Well, it wasn't House. It was actually a run-down Volkswagen Beetle. It was pulling off to the side of the road near Foreman and Chase. Inside was a man who definitely didn't look like the kind of person to be driving a beetle. He rolled down the window and looked at the boys. They noticed that he had a long beard, and a deep southern accent. His flannel shirt was cut at the sleeves, and the first person they both thought of when seeing him was Larry the Cable Guy. "You two need a ride?" asked the man.

Foreman and Chase looked at each other, and then back at the man.