Physical Therapy
Chapter 3
The next Monday, Cameron walked into the break room, already with a piping hot coffee and a scone, both from Starbucks. She sat down at the table and began to read the New York Times. Foreman entered, and stood in front of her for a while before he spoke.
"You've already got coffee and breakfast..." His brow furrowed." So, why are you in the break room? This is reserved for people without any money!"
"I'm meeting someone here." She said, not looking up from her paper. Foreman turned his back to get a Pop tart from the box.
"House?" He said to himself, scoffing.
"No!" Cameron almost spat out her coffee. It wasn't very good, quite frankly. "I am meeting Dr. Arnold here. We're discussing times for my therapy."
"Right. Just that?" He was obviously not fooled.
"Yes, just that, Foreman." She ignored him while he shook his head, rolled his eyes, and walked out without his Pop tart. Minutes later, Cameron sensed another presents in the room. It was Taylor.
"Hi!" She said, suddenly giddy. She hated the way she got around him. It was so unlike her. So out of character. She had never acted like this, never! Not even in grade school, where she ran around, trying to plant kisses on the boys, or in middle school where she had liked a different boy every other day. Not even then. Maybe she liked him differently. Maybe.
"Good morning, Allison." He said, sitting across from her at the small table. "Did you have a good time Saturday?"
"Yes. The place you took me was very romantic."
"Good. That's what I was hoping for." He smiled; she giggled. Why was she so goddamn giddy?
"The wine was delicious. Once, I went to a restaurant, and the wine was awful. It made the whole meal taste…. Should I shut up? I'm babbling, and I look like a complete idiot."
"No, it's okay. I read somewhere that when a girl babbles, she really likes the guy she's babbling to." His eyes softened. Then, he kissed her.
Dr. House stood in the doorway, watching all of this, slack-jawed. When Taylor leaned in for the kill, and then pounced…. it felt like someone had taken a pair of knitting needles and stabbed him in his chest. He took a step backwards, clutching his cane. He blinked. He walked away.
"He kissed her? Or she kissed him?" Wilson was sitting in House's chair, balancing a hackysack on his nose.
"He kissed her." House was deeply bothered. He had no idea why.
"That's a horse of another color, if I may steel the quote from the "Wizard of Oz."
"It is?"
"Well, you didn't stick around to see if she pulled away or not."
"Like hell I didn't."
"So, you think she returned the kiss?"
House ran a finger through his hair, ruffling it. "Yup."
The hackysack slid off of the side of Wilson's head and onto the floor. He retrieved it. "Why does this bother you? You don't like Cameron, do you?"
House's head snapped to the side, like he was having a spasm at the mere suggestion. "No, James, I do not." He began to pace.
"I just don't want her to get involved with Arnold. He seems...bad. Like, evil. Vogler evil. I don't think he's a real doctor."
This time, Wilson's head snapped to the side.
"You don't think he's a real doctor? Ha! How do you figure that?"
"I just have this feeling…and with his diagnosis…" He trailed off.
"You just think he doing this physical therapy to get in Cameron's pants," Wilson stated.
"That's it! That's exactly it!"
"You're acting like her father."
"I'm certainly old enough to be her father."
They sat in silence, deep in thought. Then, Wilson spoke up, "why not go ask Cuddy?"
"What?"
"Ask Cuddy about Arnolds…you know…credibility? Is that the word I'm looking for?"
House was already out the door before Wilson finished his sentence.
House barged into Cuddy's office, just as Cuddy was setting down to talk to…speak of the devil…Dr. Arnold.
"Cud-" He said, but stopped midway through, spying Dr. Arnold. "Shit."
"Good morning, Dr. House," Cuddy said, with more than just a twinge of annoyance in her voice.
"I'll just leave…" He said, turning towards the door, ready to make a quick getaway.
"Dr. House! I don't believe we've met." Dr. Arnold stood up, stretching his hand out to meet Houses'. "I'm Dr. Taylor Arnold."
House grimaced as he shook Arnold's hand. "Yeah, I know you. You're seeing Allison Cameron. My duckling."
Arnold cocked his head to the side, not understanding the poultry remark, but went on shaking as if nothing had happened.
House continued, "So, how is she?"
Arnold paled a bit. "She's…well. Bruising, swelling, the whole enchalada, but she'll be fine after undergoing…."
"Some physical therapy." House finished.
"Right."
Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Dr. House, could you chat some other time? Dr. Arnold and I have business to attend to."
House pretended to look distraught. "Oh, yes. Of course. Don't mind little old me." Cursing to himself silently, he left Cuddy's office. He'd just have to wait until later. In the meantime, he had research to do. A hell of a lot of research to do.
Yes, that line IS from the WOO. (lol, Wizard of Oz.) Dorothy and the crew go to the Emerald City, and the gatekeeper won't let them in, so she says she's got the Wicked Witch's slippers, and the gatekeeper says, "Well, that's a horse of a different color." Don't you remember? Tell me if you do!