A/N: Oops, I think I said last chapter that Foreman was making his final appearance. My bad. Really, truly this time I mean it, Foreman is going. The surgery is next, and then we'll be building up to the dramatic climax/finale!!!!

Chapter 36

House limped into his office, scrubbing his hand over his face tiredly. He hadn't been sleeping well and spring in all its glory had woken him far too early that morning. He sank into his office chair and hooked his cane on the edge of the desk, wondering briefly if he would continue to need it. He'd been avoiding thinking about what the surgery could mean if it were successful. Thinking about that inevitably led to thinking about what would happen if the surgeons failed. He was doing it; that was as far as he'd let himself think about it.

House checked his watch and realized he hadn't heard from the team and had no idea what was going on with his patient. How long could a CT and an LP take? He toyed with the idea of going to check on her himself, but his leg and drooping eyelids vetoed that idea fairly quickly. Instead, he paged them and leaned back, kicking his legs onto the desk to catch a few winks while he waited.

Foreman grabbed his pager from his hip and scowled. House wanted him in his office. Foreman took his test results and trudged toward House's office. The LP had been clear. Price and Jasper had effectively disappeared and Foreman suspected that House had set him up. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; House had been a little too eager for his input during the differential. That really should have tipped him off.

Foreman entered House's office and found him sleeping at his desk. He smirked and promised himself he'd never be sleeping behind his desk while his employees ran themselves ragged. He dropped his file on the desk loudly. House started awake.

"LP was clear." Foreman said glumly.

"No," House gasped in mock surprise. "What about the CT?" Foreman raised an eyebrow inquisitively. House had set him up.

"We couldn't get the CT," Jasper announced as she entered behind Foreman. "She collapsed before we could get her in."

"What happened?" House asked.

"Pulmonary embolism," Jasper replied. "Ultrasound revealed at least four, this latest one is massive. Price is getting her prepped now. She needs surgery."

"She needs a CT," House insisted.

"Yeah, well the CT will be less useful if we let the PE kill her," Jasper spat back.

"And if we don't find out what's causing the PE's the next one could kill her before we can fix it," House snapped.

The sound of Foreman's beeper stopped the argument mid-stream. He pulled it from his hip and frowned. Reaching across House's desk, he pushed the speaker phone on and dialed.

"Pathology Lab."

"This is Dr. Foreman."

"Dr. Foreman, the blood work is back on your patient Melanie Shore."

"Thanks, I'll come down and pick it up." Foreman reached across the desk a second time to hang up.

"Dr. Foreman? The cultures revealed septicemia."

"Crap," House muttered.

"She can't have the surgery, she'll go into septic shock," Jasper said.

"Ya think!" House shouted. He nodded at Foreman. "Go." Foreman dashed out of the office while Jasper reached for the phone to try and stop the surgical team before it was too late.

Cameron arrived at House's office at the end of a very long day, ready to go home. She found standing out side the offices, and smiled when she noted the expression on his face as he watched Jasper.

"They in for a long night?" Cameron asked as she walked up beside him.

"Looks that way," Chase answered. He sighed and turned to Cameron. "Would you like to get a drink?"

"Sure," Cameron smiled. "Let me go and say goodnight to Greg first." Chase nodded and Cameron entered House's office, while Chase went to the conference room to speak to Jasper.

"Tough case?" Cameron asked as she entered. House looked up from the computer and shrugged. "Want some help?"

"Don't you still have packing stuff to do?"

"Yes, but I'm tired of boxes," Cameron sighed.

"Go. Pack. That's more important," House said as he turned back to the computer. Cameron glowed. The idea that anything was more important than a case was amazing; the fact that he'd just admitted she was more important was nothing short of a miracle.

"Chase and I are going out for a drink first," Cameron said. House looked at her with narrowed eyes and Cameron laughed. "I'm pretty sure I can restrain myself."

"Just to make sure," House stood from behind the desk and stalked toward Cameron with a predatory growl. Making sure that Chase was watching he pulled Cameron close to him and kissed her deeply. She moaned a soft moan against his lips. Satisfied, House released her and limped to the door. He opened it and sneered at Chase. "Mine." Chase held up his hands in a gesture of surrender while Jasper laughed. Jealous House is kind of cute, she thought.

Cameron and Chase ran into Wilson and Cuddy in the lobby on their way out. There was an awkward silence as the foursome crossed the lobby toward the exit. Chase wasn't aware of the reasons behind the sudden tension, but there was no mistaking it. He watched as Cameron and Cuddy exchanged a sad smile behind Wilson's back.

"Dr. Cameron and I are going out for a drink," Chase volunteered. "Care to join us?"

"Yes," Cuddy said.

"No," Wilson declined. Cuddy gave Wilson a meaningful look. He rolled his eyes and finally nodded. Chase watched as Wilson rubbed a nervous hand on the back of his neck. This should be interesting.

House, Foreman and Jasper sat anxiously in the conference room waiting for Price to bring the CT results. House was tired, his leg hurt and he longed to be home with Cameron. This was his last working day before his surgery and he was desperate to get this case solved. He wouldn't be able to leave until the patient was diagnosed, knowing it would be a couple of weeks at least before he could return.

Jasper tapped her fingernails on the glass table in a light staccato rhythm. She and House had continued arguing after Foreman had dashed off to stop the patient's surgery. If she had bacteria in her blood stream it meant that whatever the infection was it was throwing clots, which obviously explained the PE's. That should have been good news, except the patient had already been on antibiotics and wasn't improving. House seemed to take this as a personal affront and lashed out; Jasper just happened to be on the receiving end. Rob had warned her that House could be temperamental, but having finally seen it up close and personal she thought he might have underplayed it slightly.

Foreman was just plain annoyed. Today was his last day at PPTH, a day he had hoped would pass without incident and yet here he still was at nearly 10pm. Not only that, but House had taken great pleasure in shooting down his theory, going so far as to torpedo him with Price and Jasper's help. Foreman wasn't sure what exactly House was trying to prove by doing that, but if his intention had been to piss him off he'd succeeded.

Price arrived in the conference room with the CT results and noted the palpable tension. He could guess why Foreman was so aggravated; nobody enjoyed being shown up at work and certainly House went about with a dramatic flair. Price knew that Jasper had somehow gotten on House's nerves and he'd given her a good tongue lashing so the tension there was no surprise either. But something was definitely bothering House besides just this case. Price had no idea what it was, but he sincerely hoped it had nothing to do with him.

Deciding silence was his safest option Price simply walked through the conference room and into House's office where he put the CT scans on the light board. Foreman and Jasper filed in eagerly behind him and peered over his shoulder, while House took his time joining them.

"There," Foreman said.

"Where?" Price asked.

"She's got a peritonsillar abscess," Foreman pointed.

"Peritonsillar abscess is caused by strep," Jasper said confusedly. "She's been on antibiotics though."

"Hang on," Price said, "I'm remembering something I read."

"This could take a while," House said under his breath. "Something medically relevant? Or an article from the latest issue of … what's they gay man's version of Playboy?"

Price scowled. "Something from my citizenship class." House raised his eyebrows in surprise. "George Washington's death was never explained medically, but some recent historians have theorized that he died from an undiagnosed case of Quinsy."

"She's already on antibiotics," Jasper repeated in frustration.

"Not Quinsy," House said in low voice. He was mostly talking to himself. When the three other occupants of the room turned their eyes on him he looked up. "The abscess has to be drained surgically. Test whatever pus you suck out of it and you'll find fusobacterium necrophorum." The three younger doctors exchanged glances. "Lemierre Syndrome. The forgotten disease. She needs a course of metronidazole once the diagnosis is confirmed."

Price and Jasper nodded to House and left to see about draining Melanie's abscess and starting her treatment. Foreman stood quietly and stared at the floor for a minute before he spoke.

"You enjoy going behind my back to disprove my theory?" he asked House.

"I didn't enjoy it or not enjoy it," House said indifferently. "I thought you could use a reminder that just because you're not the student anymore doesn't mean you can't still be wrong."

"Right," Foreman said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," House said. And if Foreman hadn't been so wrapped up in being angry with him, he might have heard the sincerity in House's voice.

Chase and Cameron sat uncomfortably with Cuddy and Wilson at a local restaurant. They'd chosen this place rather than a bar so that they could sit somewhere that wasn't smoke-filled out of consideration for Cuddy. So far there had been a few short bursts of conversation, centered mostly on how Cameron was getting along in unpacking her new office and how Chase liked the NICU.

Tense and tired and not looking forward to packing up the last of her apartment at 3am, Cameron checked her watch as discreetly as possible. She didn't want to be rude, but this wasn't what she'd had in mind when Chase had suggested a drink.

"So Cameron, what's with House's vacation?" Chase finally asked in an attempt to draw out what ever was bothering Wilson.

"Excuse me?" Cameron asked him.

"Mikki told me House is taking some time off work," Chase said. "You're not, though. Is he going somewhere? Visiting his parents maybe?" Chase knew full well that House would never spend any vacation time visiting his parents; especially with the lengths he'd gone to avoid a simple dinner with them a few years back.

Cameron looked at Cuddy for help but was let down. Cuddy merely shrugged. In fact, Cuddy was thrilled to have Chase say something. She'd been dying to tell Wilson about House's surgery but as the doctor who had final approval over all experimental procedures at the hospital she was bound not to say anything. Cameron had abided by House's wishes to not discuss it. Wilson knew nothing.

"I … uh, he's … ugh," Cameron stuttered. In reality, she really needed to talk to Wilson about this. Everyone would know on Tuesday anyway, she reasoned, so why not tell him. "He's having surgery."

Wilson's head jerked up from staring at the bubbles lazily climbing the sides of his beer stein.

"Surgery?" Chase asked concerned. House wasn't his favorite person, but he wouldn't wish him ill. "What sort of surgery?"

"He's participating in Dr. Jessup's clinical trials for nerve grafting," Cameron told Chase, carefully watching Wilson the whole time.

"Wow," Chase breathed. "What's his success rate?"

As Cameron and Chase discussed the surgery in greater detail, Wilson allowed their voices to fade away. House was having surgery. Major, life-altering surgery and Wilson hadn't known. He felt … he didn't know what he felt. His head was a swirl of hurt, betrayal, worry and anger. How could he decide something like that without talking to him about it? How was he going to recuperate? Did he have a backup plan if the surgery didn't work? Who was going to …

"Thanks Chase," Cameron's voice broke into Wilson's thoughts as she leaned across the table to give Chase a one-armed hug.

Wilson stood up abruptly and reached for his wallet. He dropped a twenty on the table and slid from the booth without a word. Cuddy gave Cameron and Chase an apologetic shrug and followed him out the door.

"Jimmy, what's wrong?" she asked when she caught up with him outside. Wilson just shook his head, unable to answer. He turned to look at her and tears coursed silently down his cheeks. Cuddy embraced him as best as her pregnant belly would allow. "He's going to be okay," she reassured him.

Monday night Cameron sunk into the couch next to House in an exhausted stupor. The movers had come and gone, leaving towers of boxes leaning precariously in every possible corner of the apartment. Furniture had been roughly shoved aside to accommodate crates of books and movies. The entire place was in complete disarray.

Saturday afternoon Cameron had dutifully begun unpacking in the bedroom and quickly discovered there was precious little room for her things. What had begun as gentle suggestions about moving some of House's things to storage had rapidly dissolved into sniping and tears. Their first night living together had not been spent as Cameron had imagined, making love into the wee hours and sleeping late. Rather it had been spent lying silently beside each other, tapping the sheets and staring at the ceiling in barely disguised anger.

Sunday morning had not gotten off to a promising start. Nervous about his upcoming surgery and with a mostly sleepless night behind him, calling House surly would have been charitable. He had planted himself on the couch and watched TV with the volume turned as loud as he could stand it. It was apparently louder than the neighbors could stand, however, and Cameron barely managed to convince them not to call the police. No unpacking was done.

Monday Cameron had gratefully risen early and left for work without a word to House. She hadn't even woken him. Annoyed already, House was incensed when he woke up alone. Thinking that having the morning alone would have allowed him time to cool off, Cameron had called at lunch time to see if House might want to get a bite to eat. He'd refused to answer the phone. Cameron fretted the rest of the afternoon, alternately angry at him for being so childish and angry with herself for arguing with him before his surgery.

On the way home from the hospital on Monday evening, Cameron had been struck with a paralyzing thought. Is this how he pushed Stacey out of his life? Cameron had to pull over and staggered from the car, barely avoiding throwing up all over her shoes. Of all the times for Wilson to be distancing himself, this had to be the worst. He was the only one who had really survived the infarction with his friendship intact.

Cameron arrived at House's place, home, she reminded herself, and went straight to the kitchen. She began working on dinner and once things were simmering nicely she went to the bathroom and unpacked one box. It was one box, but it felt like such an accomplishment she could practically see the tension escaping her body. She could unpack one box a day.

Dinner was eaten in silence; but it was a more comfortable silence than they'd slept in the past two nights. The occasional furtive glance was cast by one or the other. When dinner was done, Cameron was surprised when House carried his own dishes to the kitchen. He didn't stay to help wash, but it was an effort.

Finally, Cameron plopped herself on the couch. She was tired. The last few days had been physically and emotionally draining. House looked pointedly at the space Cameron had left between them on the couch. Cameron stared back lazily. House rolled his eyes dramatically, but scooted closer. Cameron kicked his ankle. House kicked her back. She angled herself closer and planted a soft elbow to his midsection. He deftly yanked a lock of her hair.

"Ass."

"Loser."

"Pain."

"Cry-baby."

"Love you."

"Ditto."