Title: Days Go By

Summery: Cameron wakes up…
Spoilers: Up until "Control"
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

Author's Note: Sorry 'bout the lack of updates and if the chapter is a little short. Art imitates life. I've been fighting a 102-degree fever since Easter. My head feels like it's going to explode. So humor a poor, sick writer. Send some love my way : - )

To telegramsan: Yes, it's quite possible that he should, but then that would ruin the rest of my story! And because House is a kick ass doctor! Plus there really isn't much you can do for the flu, maybe an antiviral medication or something depending on the strain, but you kind of just have to ride it out. Lots of fluids! In the hospital they'd stick her on an IV drip to keep her hydrated. I also had to take care of my mom last year when she had the flu so bad she was delirious. Hence the idea for my story.

To Augusta: Not sure about embarrassing things, but she's sure as hell still gonna be bitchy LOL

To gentlepeace: Well, I just didn't want her completely naked, is all. Maybe she didn't want to be flopping around with Mrs. Johnson always visiting!

After the Storm

Cameron was curled up on her side. God she felt icky was a good word to describe it. But thankfully the aches didn't feel so bad anymore. What she needed most right now was a glass of water; her mouth was all gummy. Cameron opened her eyes. There was a glass right on her night table. Funny. I don't remember getting that. Oh well. Moving as little as possible, she grabbed the glass and gulped half of it down. Then she noticed what time it was. 11:00 am. Oh crap. She didn't remember anything from the time House stopped by until now. She must have slept straight through from 3:00pm on. The fever must have broken recently; she felt sticky all over.

Oh well. Better late than never, Cameron thought, calling the hospital and leaving House a message that she wouldn't be in. Then she closed her eyes and sprawled out on her stomach, arms askew.

What is that?

There was something warm and solid under her left arm. She very gently felt around to try and figure out what it was. Then she looked up.

House was sitting with his back up against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of him, reading a magazine. He looked down at her. "You know, Cosmopolitan is really a fascinating piece of literature. 'The 10-Second Trick That Gets Any Woman There'. That could be useful." He glanced over. "Guilty pleasure, huh? I found it buried under all the medical journals."

Cameron jolted upright in a flash. "What the hell are you doing in my bed!"

House didn't answer her. He was too worried about her before to care about her state of undress, but after she was feeling around his lap, well… he was just a little more aware now.

She followed the trail of his eyes down her body. Squealing, she grabbed the covers and wrapped herself in them. "What did you do with my clothes, you asshole?"

He sighed. This could get ugly. "I had to get your fever down. You were sprouting out gibberish and kept passing out on me. So I patted you down with cool compresses." House regretted those words the minute they came out of his mouth. Next time, rephrase!

Cameron turned an interesting shade of purple. "You did what?"

"What would you rather I done? Let your blood boil in your own body?"

"You could taken me to the hospital or called an ambulance, not give yourself a private strip show!"
"I prefer my strippers to be conscious."

"You are vile."

"Yes. Saving your life makes me vile. I understand."

"I would have been just fine if you didn't show up."

"What? Mrs. Johnson would have found you delirious and called 911?"

"Exactly." She got out of bed slowly and grabbed some clothes. "Anything is better than you."

"You're welcome."

"Go. Home. Now." She walked towards the kitchen to get more water.

Stubborn bitch, House thought. You shoot her down once, she hates you for life. But for some reason, he didn't want her to hate him. She made him curious. She made him think. She made him… Well, he cared about her. A lot. It was a feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. And it made him uncomfortable. He didn't know how to deal with it. So he very carefully got up and followed her.

Cameron walked out of the kitchen. "What part of 'go away' don't you understand?"

"What part of 'I'm trying to help you' don't you understand?"

"I never asked for your help."

"Not asking for it doesn't mean that it won't be offered."

She sighed. "This is getting us nowhere. I'm tired of all the arguing. Would you please just go?"

"No."

"House, don't make me call the police on you."

"What? Domestic disturbance? 'Sorry, officer. The lady with the flu beat up the cripple.' I'm sure that will fly with them."

Cameron let a little smile slip out with that one. Aha. A chink in the armor, House thought. I better run with it.

"Now go sit down before you pass out another 3 or 4 times. Take some more Motrin. And you need to eat."

"I'm still not hungry."

"I don't care. You lose any more weight and those friends of yours that men of all ages love will go away."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest self-consciously and glared at House.

"What," he said. "They are only fat. Plus," he said, turning to go into the kitchen, "there's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to lose yours."

Cameron had to laugh as she sat down on the couch. "The Princess Bride. That's my favorite movie!"

"Aha! Hot, with good taste to boot. I knew I hired you for a reason!"

Banging echoed from the kitchen. "House, what are you doing in there?"

"Cooking."

"You can cook?" She giggled.

"Shut up."