Disclaimer: I do not own House MD; it is created by David Shore, and affiliated to FOX Broadcasting Network, Heel and Toe Productions, etc.

Parings: House/Cameron

Rating: K+

A/N: Thank you all the reviewers! Glad you're enjoying the story so far. :) I'm a fan of Foreman's too, so it was nice to add him in.

Sorry for the long wait, research was excruciatingly frustrating, it was hard to find a place to start, but I think I have the general resolution down.

Now that Cameron left (she'll come back, trust me) that changes everything. I'm not going to make her leave in this one though; it's too much work and messes up my plans. So I guess all spoilers will be up to Heavy.

Enjoy!


Not Without Flaws

Chapter 3


It was the next morning. Cuddy sat behind her desk, arranging the files and documents that lay on her desk. Better get everything all set up before that--Vogler gets here . . .

"Dr. Cuddy! Enjoying this lovely morning, are we?"

Cuddy let out a frustrated sigh. She didn't even look up, the mordant tone could only belong to House. "Shouldn't you be playing your little game of 'solve-the-mysterious-disease'?" She mocked, annoyance in her voice.

"Why I'd love to, but unfortunately, there aren't any victims right now to use as clues." House walked over to a piece of art hanging on the wall. Apparently, it was an abstract interpretation of a . . . or what looked to be, a person. "Hey, nice photo, that was a year ago right, when you were still 40?" He turned and gave a questioning look.

Cuddy's head cocked to one side, and her jaw hung down slightly. "Excuse me?" She shook her head. Just. Ignore him. "You know what, seeing as you have so much time to be making these 6 year old jokes, why don't' you just go and do some clinic duties?"

"Sure, just like Cinderella's stepmother feeding the chickens, I'll be there in a flash. Oh and, 6 year olds can't make good jokes. You have to admit, that, was good." He gave one big nod.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Go. Just go and do your clinic hours." She held her palms out in front of her, "No, I know. You don't have to until tomorrow, but here's the deal, if you get it done today, I'll let you pass tomorrow. This isn't something I offer everyday, so take up your chances." Arching her brows, Cuddy waited for a reply. Not that I need to, it's going to be a no—

"No chance. The more I can delay this . . . thing, the better. Who knows? If I did the hours and died tonight, I'll have had to endure more torture than God meant for me to. You do the math." He turned and limped toward the door. It swung open and missed him by an inch as a great size of a silhouette trudged in.

"Good morning Dr. Cuddy. 'Morning Dr. House." Vogler smiled, he was greeted with a silence. "Sorry, was I interrupting something? I guess I'll just--"

"Ah no, I was just telling Dr. House that he should be getting on to his clinic hours." Cuddy cut in, she didn't need Vogler making up any more stories.

House looked back and gave Cuddy a stern glare. How very kind of you. "Uh, well, I'll be on my way then." He passed Volger and couldn't resist but whisper, "Don't snatch any breakfast from the cafeteria, I hear the servers pick their nose." House widened his eyes for effect, and staggered off, a smug look hung on his face. Infuriated and unable to think of anything to fire back, Vogler called out. "Those clinic hours had better be filled House, or you're gone!"

Way for the whole staff list to know, bastard . . . House unscrewed the lid of his Vicodin bottle and popped in two pills, he hasn't been having so much in the past few days, But Vogler just absolutely can not let it be . . . He arrived at the check-in counter, when he spoke, there was aggravation in his tone. "Dr. Gregory House. Checking in at . . ." he glanced at the clock that hung on the far wall, "8:13."

> > >

"He said that?" Cameron raised her brows, and gave a small laugh.

"Yeah, he sure did." Foreman laughed, "'Glad you refused him though, patients and doctors don't work out. Trust me."

Cameron just shook her head, trying to keep a straight face.

The gleeful atmosphere was immediately shrouded as Chase burst into the room. The look on his face told the two that something serious came up.

> > >

"Dizziness, head aches. And you mentioned bumping into the dishwasher?"

House's patient nodded. She was a woman in her thirties with brilliant blue eyes and a big flirtatious smile. She batted her eye lashes. "Do you want to go out for coffee?"

House exhaled, "Alright, let's add delirious onto that list. You--"

The door swung open, Cameron was there was a flicker of urgency in her eyes. "Excuse me." She gave the woman an apologetic look and moved closer to House so the quiet volume of her voice was audible. "Swelling of lower body joints, rash, and temperature is a shocking 107.6°F."

House cocked his head to one said and gasped. "Oh how terrible! Rheumatoid arthritis! Leave some work for the physicians Cameron, they all have families to feed. Well, I'm not sure about that one fellow . . ."

Cameron gave a frustrated glare, "The girl is only eight years old!"

Well that changes everything. You could have said that to begin with . . . Without a word, House started for the door, his patient let out an estranged cry. "What about me?" House stopped and sighed, "You know why I refused your little date offer?" he turned around.

Date--? Cameron concealed her surprise, curious to learn more.

"It's because I'm not attracted to blue contacts. Go see an optimist, it's those lenses that are bothering you." House swallowed a few Vicodin pills and headed out the door, his silhouette bobbing slowly out of sight.

". . ." There was an elongated silence in the room. ". . . I suggest Dr. Steiner in the optics department." Cameron gave the woman a hesitant nod and hurried out to catch up with House. Hmm . . . so he doesn't like blue contacts huh . . .? The fact engrossed Cameron and she couldn't help but let a content grin creep across her lips.

> > >

House paced in front of the blank white board, playing with the marker that was in his hand. "High fever, aching joints, and a rash, symptoms of arthritis . . ." he extended his neck out slightly, disbelief was written all over his face, ". . . in an eight year old?"

"Yes, we know." Foreman leaned back in his chair, "But that's what's being presented to us. The girl was burning too high a fever to leave us with any other information. Although, she has a slight eye irritation."

"Systemic juvenile rheumatoid arthritis." Chase stated, obviously confident with his diagnosis.

"But systemic JRA that doesn't explain the redness of her eyes." Cameron shook her head, slightly annoyed by Chase's arrogance.

Chase was not convinced. "Oh come on. It was probably just an allergy symptom. I mean if you haven't noticed, it is spring right now."

"Ah ha. Chase is exactly right." Chase looked self-satisfied as these words escaped House's lips. Seeing him, House continued. "You're exactly right in the sense that it may be an allergic reaction. So don't overlook that. . ." The smugness instantaneous faded from Chase's face; he watched as House wrote 'Allergic reaction' onto the white board.

"Triggered by a virus maybe?" Foreman suggested. House nodded and made the addition to the board.

"But the problem is," Cameron frowned. "How do the two relate? JRA and an infection of the eyes? The two don't mix; JRA could affect major organs of the human body, but definitely not the sensory features."

House noted down 'Infection' and squinted into the distance, deep in thought. After a few seconds, he spoke. "Get me a blood sample, I'll test it myself."

There was definitely incredulity radiating from the young doctors. A moment of silence was present for the words to sink in. "Wait . . . you want to--" Cameron began, but was instantly interrupted by House. "Yes. Didn't I say that just ten seconds ago? What is it with people these days? They just have to have a confirmation. It's like shopping online, 'are you sure you wish to purchase this item?' Geez, and they're trying to make money?" House shook his head, popping a few Vicodin pills into his mouth as he hobbled out, back to his office.

> > >

Work time was long supposed to have ended, but House was still stuck in the hospital. It takes that long to get a blood sample? Damn it, I'm missing out on General Hospital. House frowned, at least he had finally arrived at the lab, his leg was being particularly hard on him today. A sharp jerk of pain seared through, causing House to bend down, straining for his Vicodin. Blasted leg . . .

He opened the glass door open and immediately closed it as a strong pang of a noxious gas hit him. He scrunched up his nose and blew out a breath of air. Crap. Someone must have spilt phenol in there while they were extracting the DNA. Bad news. House looked down the dimly lit hallway, there was not a person in sight. "Shit." He cursed under his breath, if someone went in there unaware, then . . . House cursed again, he had no choice but to go in, after all, Cameron was supposed to have delivered the sample just moments ago.

House brought his arm up and covered his nose with his sleeve. It would be really bad news if he fainted in there, the chances of someone coming into this lab at this hour was slim, he had to move fast. Pfft. Yeah, I'll move fast alright. House slipped himself inside and quickly closed the door behind him, the gas would have to be dealt with by professionals, but meanwhile, he needed to prevent any leakage to the rest of the building.

The strong odor caused House to let out a few coughs. Someone must have spilt a lot of phenol. Idiot. With the fastest he could manage, House hobbled around the columns of lab tables. When he arrived at the far one, sure enough, there were bits of broken glass on the floor, the remains of a glass jar sat atop a magnetic stirrer. Must have put on too much spin, when will people learn . . .

Seeing that the room was clear, House started for the door. His mind was getting cloudy now, Come on Greg, just like the old lacrosse games, a few more steps . . . the crowd will go crazy . . . Distant memories was flowing in House's mind. It was hard to breathe. Stacy . . . He gave a violent cough, it shook him out of his trans. Damn it, I can do this. With effort, he was able to bring his arm up and get a grip on the door handle. He pushed down on it and pulled the door open. The hallway was so close . . . yet so far, as darkness shrouded his vision. House managed to close the door, but his leg gave in, and he collapsed on the ground with a thud, his cane skidded out away from him.

The thud bounced off the walls and echoed through out the hallway. What was that? Cameron had just put on her coat, ready to leave. It had been a long day. She knew the concerned parents' pain, so she had to do something to help, even just staying with them and explaining the situation. That came from the direction of the lab--The lab? But no one's . . . House! Cameron abandoned her plans and hurried to the lab with a running step.

There he was, painfully sprawled on the floor. "House!" Cameron knelt down beside him, she took his shoulders and shook them. Cameron leaned the side of her face to his lips, no breath came out. Shit. He's unconscious. A deep frown swept over her brows, she felt as if her heart would burst out at any moment, it was beating so hard. Carefully, Cameron turned him on his back. What to do . . . you're a doctor Allison, think! There's only . . .

Without hesitation, Cameron quickly stripped off her coat. With both of her hands placed on his chest, she pressed down once. Twice. Damn it's not helping! Leaning down again, she placed her hands on his jaw and suddenly, CPR didn't seem like such a good idea. Their faces were inches apart from each other, the rough texture of his stubble made her fingers tingle, and the silence around them was suffocating. Cameron could hear the unsteady pattern of her breathing. Just for a second, she hesitated. This is not a high school crush Allison, it's a matter of life and death!

Gently, Cameron brought House's jaws apart. She took a deep breath and leaned down. Just as their lips were about to make contact, House's eyes flew open. His crystals entangled in a deadly lock with hers and time seemed to freeze.


A/N: I hope that lived up to what I promised—interesting. Inspiration is from the incident at my parent's lab. Someone spilt phenol, which is highly toxic and used for extracting and determining DNA sequences. What's funny is, this is kind of a recap of the event, same cause and effect. And no, when you inhale it you don't die, but you will faint if there is an excessive amount, it can also result to respiratory problems.

I think everyone knows this but, CPR is cardiopulmonary resuscitation (mouth-to-mouth).

So much medical research, give me some credit! ;)

ACMD