Reluctance
Chapter 4 – Sports Metaphors
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Thirty-seven year old male, blurred vision, retinitis and iritis," Cameron sauntered into House's office, reading from the file in her hand.
House, disinterested, looked up from his Gameboy briefly with a raised eyebrow.
"So?" he said, distracted by the game.
Cameron sighed, folding her arms across her chest.
"Mouth sores, skin rash, complained of extreme headache and joint pain-" she paused, "-right before they found the arterial blood clot."
House, now thoroughly paying attention, flipped the switch to 'off' and gently set the Gameboy down. One hand reached for his cane, the fingers of his other tapping against his thigh as he thought. Oh, how he loved a new case!
Standing from his chair with some difficulty, House snatched the folder from Cameron and headed for the door. As a parting thought, he shot a comment over his shoulder.
"Best you find Dumb and Dumber. We have a mystery to solve."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Come on, my ducklings," House urged. "What does this guy have?"
He stood at the head of the table, leaning haphazardly against his cane, blue eyes glaring at the three young doctors before him. The patient's symptoms were written on the dry erase board behind him in black marker.
"Give me anything," House ordered.
"An allergic reaction would explain the rash and the headache," Chase was the first to offer something.
House shook his head, tapping his cane on the ground.
"Strike one. Patient history reveals no allergies," House confirmed with a glance at the chart.
Chase, looking rather disgruntled, sunk back into his seat and ran a hand through his hair.
"Lupus – accounts for the rash, headache, and blood clot," Cameron contributed half-heartedly.
"Strike two, my pretty. Wrong kind of rash – there's no butterflying. Besides, the progression of Lupus is less severe," House replied.
By default, it was now Foreman's turn to attempt a diagnosis. He shrugged and avoided House's gaze.
"Strike three and you're out. Sorry Foreman," House taunted. "I want an MRI and a full body scan ASAP."
The ducklings scrambled from their chairs, eager to escape House and his sports metaphors.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The MRI had revealed minimal brain inflammation; a new symptom that was added to the already long list.
The team sat around the conference table, attempting to come up with a diagnosis. Each had their own way of thinking. Chase read and re-read the patient's file, hoping to find a loophole that would give them some help. Foreman was leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, coat off and tie loosened. Cameron sipped from her coffee, one eye on the dry erase board, the other fixed on House. House twirled his cane from his fingers deftly.
All three ducklings nearly jumped out of their chairs; House had slapped his cane on the table top, jerking them to alertness. With a gaze that could only be described as smug, House reclaimed his place at the dry erase board. He reached for the marker, scribbling something in the top right-hand corner.
"Behçet's disease. It explains everything; blurred vision, rash, headache, blood clot…" House went down the list of symptoms. "Treatment?" he asked the team.
They ogled at him, eyes wide. He never ceased to amaze. Catching their identical looks, House smirked.
"I know, I know. It came out of left field," he joked. "To repeat myself… treatment?"
"Corticosteroids to treat inflammation, Colchicine and NSAIDs for the joint pain and headache," Foreman pulled from his memory.
House nodded and wiped the list of symptoms from the board with the eraser.
The team stood nearly in unison, Cameron gathering the papers that had been spread over the table. Stuffing them into the patient's folder, she turned to leave.
"Dr. Cameron, a moment please. Unless you're too eager to humor your old boss," House called after her.
Cameron paused, knowing immediately what this was going to be about. She about-faced and watched as House made his way from behind the table to stand in front of her. He stopped, probably a bit closer than polite, and started to speak before he ran out of what little courage he had.
"Wilson has a date with the nice nurse from his department tomorrow night," House said, his raised eyebrow implying something.
Cameron, feeling rather daring, took a step closer to House and lifted her eyes to meet his.
"Oh? I thought he'd go to bat for you no matter what," Cameron attempted her own metaphor.
This drew a chuckle from House. Deciding that he was dangerously close to her – close enough to catch a whiff of her strawberry shampoo – House took a step backwards. His grip tightened on his cane as he looked away. Now came the hard part.
"Are you feeling up to dinner and a Jazz Fest?" House questioned.
Cameron just smiled, knowing that she was the cause of his obvious discomfort. She just gave him a look and headed for the door.
"Pick me up at six," she called over her shoulder.
House, who had managed to regain his snark (and therefore his dignity) without her pretty blue eyes to drown in, was close behind her.
"Wear something nice, preferably tight and revealing," House suggested with a nod as his eyes scanned her body.
This earned him a glare from Cameron.
"You're such a screwball," she said before sauntering down the hallway.
House watched her go. Women… at least they tried the sports metaphors. House sighed, leaning into his cane as he popped a couple of Vicodin. Only then did he realize that he had forgotten to tell Cameron this was a non-date.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And all that's best of dark and bright,
Meet in the aspect and her eyes.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Yes! I love this chapter! I tried my hand at a case; don't badger me with insults. Somehow, Cameron and the sports metaphors wouldn't stop coming. I'm sorry – pardon my lack of self control. As always, review review review!
