Disclaimer: Same as usual. I still don't own them, not for lack of wanting to.
A/N: Thank you everyone for the sweet comments, especially ACMD, Avelynn Tame, and Moonstruck88:) I was informed by "anonymous" that I use too much description, which caused the reader to become lost in chapter two. Oh well, to each their own. So it was very uplifting to hear, from you three in particular, that the extent of my description is a positive thing.
I'm feeling better today, so I typed up this chapter. I have part VI in my notebook, and I'm working on part VII. I personally like this chapter a bit-- let's have more of the House/Wilson drama, shall we?
I hope you all continue to enjoy!
Cameron covered a small yawn and closed the medical journal she was reading, laying it in her lap. She stretched her long neck from side to side, inhaling deeply. Her head was aching dully and Cameron noted that she hadn't eaten since 6:30 this morning—and a banana muffin could only go so far. Uncrossing her stiff legs, she rose from her seat in the doctor's lounge and slipped from the tranquility of the room into the unceasing bustle of the hospital hallways.
Cameron perused the cafeteria items, deciding on a bottled water, limp spinach salad, and whole-grain bagel. She waited patiently as the long line crept along and was surprised when a warm hand gripped her bare elbow. Cameron turned, mere feet from the cashier, and looked up into the pleasant face of James Wilson.
"Hey, you" he smiled softly, reaching for an orange juice.
"How goes the day?" he questioned, glancing at her side-long, "you look a bit tired."
Cameron smiled and slid her tray along the frame of the cafeteria counter.
"Too many hours over a microscope" she answered casually—it was, after all, the truth; "and I think there's only so much reading a person can do before their eyes simply give up" she joked mildly.
"Ah" Wilson nodded, charming smile back in place. He was reluctant to comment on her slightly weakened appearance, and determined not to revisit their earlier conversation.
"Been there—done that. Lunch is a good idea, though" he nodded at her tray.
Cameron's smile brightened somewhat as she watched his internal debate between 'ham and cheese' or 'pizza'. Wilson's hand hovered over the pizza a moment before he finally scooped up one of the last, remaining slices and dropped it on his tray. Cameron slid her tray to the cashier and dug in her pocked for money.
"No, no, let me" Wilson's voice came over her shoulder as he slid his tray next to hers.
"Oh no" Cameron exclaimed softly, only to be silenced by Wilson's raised hand.
"Please" he assured her, "my treat."
Cameron's cheeks flushed slightly as she nodded mutely. Wilson's smile grew—"together" he told the cashier, gesturing to the two trays.
Cameron's lips curved slightly into a weak yet sincere smile as she picked up her tray and took a step backward to accommodate him. Wilson paid and retrieved his tray—did he never cease smiling?—and jerked his head in a graceful motion towards the sun-filled courtyard.
"Join me?"
The arc of Cameron's rosy lips grew slightly and she nodded, lowering her gaze as she followed Wilson to a half-shaded table outside. Cameron sat and leaned back in the white plastic deck chair, letting the coolness seep through the soft fabric of her sleeveless, v-neck sweater. She had long-since shed both her lab coat and suit jacket due to the stifling summer head and increasing feeling of suffocation the day had provided.
She closed her mossy eyes briefly and exhaled softly, enjoying the cool breeze as it fanned across her flushed features. Her opening eyes met the soft grown gaze of Dr. Wilson across the table—his brow furrowed slightly in concern. Cameron blinked rapidly, realizing what she must look like, and smiled warmly, lifting the lid on her salad.
"Headache" she explained, "and I'm starving" she laughed softly, poking her plastic fork into a slightly wilted leaf and popping it into her mouth.
Wilson arched a brow and unscrewed the cap on his orange juice, leaning back in his seat to observe her. Cameron felt his gaze on her and her neck flushed pink and warm in response—after their conversation earlier, she was wary to make him concerned for her, worried that he might attribute any problem to her feelings for House. She bit into her salad again, chewing slowly as she opened her water and crossed her long legs under the shabby table. She leaned back to regard him.
"I'm fine" she insisted, continuing to smile what she thought—hoped, rather—was a convincing smile.
Wilson quirked a brow and swallowed a mouthful of bittersweet juice and nodded.
"I have some Ibuprofen in my desk if you'd like".
Cameron's smile grew more genuine, the softest hint of sincere thanks billowing across her porcelain features.
"No, I just need to eat. Thanks, though".
House opened his electric eyes, frowning severely at the unexpected romantic ballad that was filtering from his speakers. He dropped his leg from the desk top and reached for the source of such misery—his iPod—and pressed the damned thing off. Straightening his stiff back, House consulted the clock on his computer—nearly three; his kidney referral would be arriving soon—perfect. He rose, reaching for his cane, and moved haltingly out his office door.
Cameron covered her mouth, leaning back in her chair, ivy-colored eyes dancing as she fought to curtail her laughter. Across the table, Wilson swallowed the last of his orange juice and smiled happily.
"I kid you not—two days later his mother was calling to tell me that the 'swelling' had still not gone down" he chuckled.
Cameron's eyes shone with mirth, her cheeks flushed a healthy, vibrant hue.
"Well…" she began, "prescription medication can have differing effects on people of differing ages. Obviously fifteen year old boys should not be 'sampling' their fathers' Viagra" she stated, assuming a convincing air of medical poise, yet her eyes still held a hint of laughter.
Wilson laughed heartily at her professionalism and pushed his cluttered tray towards the center of the table.
"It is remarkable the lengths the male sex will go to sometimes" he chuckled.
Cameron laughed softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
"Yes—remarkable" came a gruff voice.
Cameron's smile melted while Wilson struggled to maintain his comfortable, undisturbed exterior.
"Hey—don't you have a referral coming in?" Wilson questioned, attempting a casual greeting.
Houses' gaze skimmed between the two seated figures before him.
"That's twice in one day—I feel like I should wear a bell so you two know I'm coming" he ground out.
Cameron fixed a terse smile on her demure face as she unfolded herself from the chair and rose, picking up the remnants of her meal.
"He does have a referral" she commented neutrally. She looked at House briefly, her delicate features giving away little.
Stepping away from the table she smiled softly at Wilson: "Thanks for lunch".
Wilson's smile flickered ever so slightly under Houses' scrutiny and he nodded as Cameron drifted past: "Anytime".
As Cameron's lean frame passed through the doorway and into the cafeteria, House took her now vacant seat, setting his tray down with a clatter. Wilson inhaled deeply, steeling himself for what was undoubtedly to come. He gazed at House with boyish innocence.
For a moment, House simply sat starring at his meal; something resembling rage flit across his cerulean eyes, burning into his sandwich. Wilson laced his fingers over his crossed knee.
"I was going to come and get you" he began pleasantly, "but got sidetracked".
House finally leveled his steaming gaze on his friend.
"You kids and your lingo" he scoffed.
Wilson rolled his dark eyes, a comical smile tugging at his handsome mouth. House leaned back in the deck chair—the plastic radiating warmth left by Cameron's body—and let his eyes wander and fix on the distant, building-strewn horizon.
"I don't care what you do" he said softly, voice dark and serious—"whatever arrangement you've made with your conscience regarding your marriage" House fixed his icy gaze on Wilson, "but you will not do this."
Wilson raised a brow, his playful expression fading into one of mild indignation.
"What is it, exactly, you think I'm doing?" he questioned flatly.
House's fierce gaze bore into Wilson.
"Please" he scoffed, averting his eyes and refocusing on the distant buildings.
Wilson leaned forward, uncrossing his legs, and stared at his friend. He quirked a brow and waited. House set his jaw and finally met Wilson's gaze.
"Cameron" he said at last, voice sharp like splintered glass.
"Do whatever the hell you want, but leave her out of it."
Wilson knit is brow and stood, collecting his tray.
"Maybe you should be consulting a mirror" he said humorlessly before turning to leave the courtyard. He paused and swiveled to regard House.
"She had a headache" he said simply before reentering the hospital.
House knit his brow and picked up his now cold reuben. He exhaled sharply and tossed the sandwich onto his tray, scattering sauerkraut and crumbs across the tabletop. He dug into his pocked and withdrew the vicodin bottle, swallowing a small handful of its' contents.