Chapter 9

The day went on with little or no consequence. Cuddy had thankfully been tied up in the board meeting all day, so House didn't even have to go out of his way to avoid her. He knew he'd have to face her eventually…she was, after all, his boss. And his final words to her were not the most professional, nor pleasant.

But he didn't care in the least.

Since they were still without a case, his team and Foreman were doing rounds in the pediatric unit. House had been tempted to ask Foreman if Chase had said anything about Cameron, but he mentally cursed himself for turning into a high school gossip queen and kept his mouth shut.

At one point House had considered making a visit to the ER to see how Cameron was holding up – hung over, emotionally drained and royally confused – he was certain she was as professional and precise as ever. The thought of her brought a faint smile to his face and he felt something inside of him stir.

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed further into his chair and closed his eyes, grateful he managed to get through the day unseen and unscathed.

"What's up?"

House opened his eyes in confusion to find Wilson standing inside his door.

"Oh," House said, "I forgot about you." He took his feet off his desk and sat up, popping the cap on his Vicodin bottle and tossing two pills into his mouth.

"You feeling ok? Because you managed to almost get through the day without bugging me once. I have a patient in 20 minutes just in case you want to barge in and say something hurtful to her."

House shrugged. "Tempting, but I'll pass."

Wilson narrowed his eyes at House and crossed his arms in front of his chest. House rolled his eyes as Wilson took his 'I'm going to read you and try to figure you out' stance.

"Easy there, we can't afford to have our director of oncology going blind from staring too long at the sun," House mocked.

"Thinking highly of yourself…wait, how is that different from usual?"

"Well I've been told I'm hot and that I'm God, hence the sun analogy…"

"Seriously, what's going on with you?" Wilson asked.

"Well I'm thinking of auditioning for the local community theater production of Chicago, but I don't think they make fishnets in my size."

Wilson stared at him again. "Did you talk to Cuddy?"

House froze and gazed at the floor.

"You did," Wilson said, moving closer and sitting in the chair across from his desk. "And? What did you say? What did she say?"

House gave Wilson a look of disgust. "I didn't realize I'd have to face the inquisition. Geeze, what the hell's your problem?"

Wilson put his hands up, surrendering. "Sorry, didn't realize it was a touchy subject. I, uh, guess she shot you down."

House regarded him a moment. "She told you, didn't she?" The realization that Cuddy had run to Wilson hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What?" Wilson scoffed.

"She told you I asked her to dinner and that she turned me down and I…"

"Graced her with your reputable kindness, yes…" Wilson said, almost whispering. "That was pretty messed up, House…even for you."

"It was an instinct, a defensive tactic," House replied, standing and limping towards his window where he stared blankly out at the horizon. He wanted to be out of there, away from this. He didn't feel like hearing this again.

"Still…you should apologize."

House turned and glared at Wilson. "Since when do I apologize to Cuddy? None of this would have happened if I hadn't decided to actually listen to you."

"Right, blame me. You're right, it's my fault. I should have never encouraged you to take a risk, to take a step toward potential happiness."

"Damn right, it's your fault. For some fucked up reason I haven't been able to stop thinking about that she-beast for weeks. It's literally been driving me insane; obviously, since I decided to take the advice of Dr. Lovesick over here. Instead I get it thrown in my face. And then all I can hear is her laughing at me, telling me 'thanks, but no thanks' until all I can do is drown out her voice with the largest bottle of whisky I can find."

"House?" Both men turned to find Cuddy standing in the doorway. Her eyes were wide and her mouth slightly open. She stood perfectly still. House wondered how he hadn't noticed her before.

He laughed and dropped his head, leaning his weight on his cane.

"I'll, uh…I have a patient," Wilson stammered as he stood. He gave House one final look then brushed past Cuddy, giving her a quick nod.

"House," Cuddy repeated. He held up his hand.

"Forget it, ok? Yes, I know what I said was…"

"Hurtful and vindictive," she said, finishing his sentence for him. "Yes, it was. But, I shouldn't have expected anything less from you."

House was silent, not sure what to say.

"I had no idea you had feelings for me. I just…I don't know what to say," she said, throwing her hands up and letting them fall to her sides. After a moment, she hesitantly walked further into the room until she was standing directly in front of him. He gripped his cane tighter.

"You don't have to say anything. You made your point. So we forget it, and we move on," House said quietly. She placed her hand on his arm and urged him to look at her.

"House, against all judgment I value your friendship more than any other person in this hospital. I trust your instincts, even the unconventional ones. But unfortunately that's as far as my feelings for you go. I don't want this to ruin anything we have." Cuddy squeezed his arm.

He could feel his blood boiling; his skin under her grasp was burning. He stared intently into her blue eyes and found himself falling. Once again the empty feeling returned to his chest as her words echoed in his ears.

"Don't worry, forget any of this happened. We'll be back to our colorful banter in no time. I still get to make jokes about your breasts, right?" House said, putting on his best poker face.

She smiled and rolled her eyes before stepping away. "It wouldn't be a normal day around here unless you did," she said. "Are you sure we're…we're ok?"

He nodded and smiled. "Right as rain."

She took a few steps backward before turning and leaving. House let out a deep breath and watched her go. He couldn't help but feel she had taken a piece of him with her.

Packing up his back quickly, he headed for home. He needed to feel whole again.

Cameron glanced at the clock, grateful to see the end of her shift a few minutes away. It had been a harrowing day to say the least. She had finally been feeling the effects of her hangover dwindle away by lunch, but her heart was still in searing pain, not to mention the confusion she'd felt over what had happened with House. She walked in a daze most of the day, but still managed to tend to her patients with no complications. Luckily the ER had been slow that day.

"Can we talk?" His voice hit her like a freight train, breaking her out of any reverie. She slowly placed her chart down and turned, unable to look him in the eye.

"What do you want, Chase?" she asked.

"We need to talk about this, Allison. I'm not…I don't want to lose you over one stupid mistake," he said, his voice low as he tried to lead her to an unpopulated area of the ER.

She stopped in her tracks and pulled away from him, finally looking him in the eye. "One stupid mistake? You think after you fuck some twit I'll just shrug and say 'oh, it's ok sweetie, you just made a mistake. It happens' and we'll be on our merry way?" She felt absolutely disgusted.

"Allison, please" he pleaded, grabbing her elbow. His touch ignited something in her – anger, desire, displeasure, heat, regret – she had to get away from him, and fast.

"I can't do this now," she said, taking several steps back. He watched her retreat from him and stayed glued to the floor.

She hurried into the locker room, her whole body shaking as she tried to hold back her tears. She needed to get out of there, not caring that she still had ten minutes until her shift ended. She needed to run away, to hide out somewhere, to feel something…else.

Slamming her locker door shut, she took a quick breath and realized exactly what she needed.

House wasn't in his door thirty seconds before he picked up the phone and started to dial her number. After the first three digits he hung up.

Idiot, he thought. She's probably still at the hospital. He had no idea why he tried her home number.

Switching the phone on again he began to dial her pager number. A knock at the door startled him, and he hung up the phone. At first he thought it might be Wilson coming to check up on him and find out what happened with Cuddy. But as he drew closer to the door, he heard the knock become more frantic, and he felt his heart nearly stop in anticipation of who was on the other side. He knew exactly who it was.

Swinging the door open, he stared at her. She looked frail and tired, but there was something else about her. Her skin seemed to glow and her body was shaking. She could barely speak.

"I need you," she whispered.

"You have no idea," he replied before grabbing her hand and pulling her inside.