Disclaimer- see previous chapter

Chapter 29 Barbie with balls

'House.' She opened the door only slightly, her body blocking his line of vision.

'Dr. Cameron.' He squinted, trying desperately to see past her.

'My fridge is bare, go find a late night liquor store.'

'Nope. Can't do that. No money on me. Besides, I don't want a beer. Or even a whisky.'

'Little late for Lent aren't you? By about three months or so.'

'Huh. So you gonna invite me in, or do I have to stand here and give the neighbours something to talk about. Unless of course they're used to you having gentlemen callers late at night.'

'No.'

'No what?'

'No, I'm not going to invite you in.'

'Because..?'

'Because I am about to go to bed.' She looked downwards at her robe, expecting House to buy her excuse given her current attire.

'With wet hair? Didn't your mother tell you it's a sure fire way to pick up a chill.' He continued to crane his neck, Cameron closing the door slightly as he did so.

'Thanks for the tip. Goodnight House.'

Preventing the door being firmly shut in his face, he nudged it with his cane. Cameron insistently pushed back against it. House jabbed it again, a little harder. Just in time to catch a glimpse of Clarkson getting up off the sofa. In a pink robe? The robe part was enough to make House do a double take, but pink? Realising he had seen far more than she would have wished for, Cameron surrendered to his persistent abuse of her door.

'Fine. Clearly you need to come in.' She opened the door fully and waved her arm, signalling him to enter.

'Well, before I just wanted to. Now, I absolutely need to. First we discover Chase leads a double life as a gimp and now Clarkson is revealing his liking for cross-dressing. What kind of monsters have I created in my lab?'

He entered the living room, enjoying the fact that Clarkson didn't know where to look and that Cameron's blood was at boiling point. Taking in the vision that was a six foot tall, 180 pound man with a chiselled jaw, clad only in a rose pink towelling robe, hairy calves and forearms on display. 'Barbie with balls. Nice.'

Clarkson headed in the general direction his clothing had last been spotted.

'House, why are you here?' Cameron asked, her annoyance highly evident.

'I'd say it's a good job I came when I did. Save you from being defiled by a giant blob of cotton candy. I only got to slide off the nightdress, what's so special about Lord Snooty that he gets to play dress-up? '

'He got wet. He was soaked to the skin. I was being nice.'

'And he didn't have any towels at his place? Wait a minute, you're all wet too. You had a foam party? Please tell me it was that. Let me die with a smile on my face.'

'He got caught in the rain.'

'Shame. What is it with your need to take in waifs and strays? You should consider opening a sanctuary for all of life's victims.'

'I'll bear it in mind. You want to reserve your bunk in advance?'

Clarkson reappeared, crumpled but dry, and without so much as a trace of pink in sight. As he slipped his jacket on and headed towards House and Cameron, House felt the need to continue with his vitriol. 'Mr. Bubbalicious? You leaving so soon? I didn't mean to interrupt the pyjama party. Have I missed Truth or Dare? Spin the Bottle? Strip Twister?'

'Dr. House, I was just checking up on Allison, making sure she was ok.'

'You know the Red Cross needs people like you two. I hear Do-Gooders Anonymous needs a new CEO. Hey, don't let me stop you, I hear the rainforest and ozone layer is losing the battle. Go help Sting. Word of advice, don't turn up offering assistance dressed as a blancmange.'

Clarkson reached out and rubbed Cameron's shoulder tenderly. 'Allison, thanks again. I'll see you Monday. If you need anything before then, you have my number. Dr. House.' He nodded a goodbye to his boss.

House ignored his gesture, his natural rudeness only made worse by the gradual realisation that his territory had potentially been marked by a foreign predator. He hadn't expected Cameron to don a chastity belt on the basis of a couple of stolen kisses and a wealth of unspoken sexual tension, but he also hadn't anticipated the speed at which his fumbled advances would be replaced. Especially by Bertie Wooster. In girl's clothing.

Watching him walk down the hallway, Cameron felt a mixture of embarrassment on Clarkson's behalf, and a seething rage at House's audacity. As House closed the door, Cameron spun to face him angrily.

'Why are you here? Go annoy somebody else.'

'Can't. No-one wants to play. Wilson's got dragged into a family pow-wow, Kevin from book-keeping is alphabetising his porn collection...'

'His name's Carl.'

'Same difference. I could think of no-one I would rather pester than you, Dr. Cameron.'

'Well, I am not in the mood for banter tonight. I am going to bed.'

'What and leave me here? Alone in your apartment with only my deviant mind and pastel soft furnishings for company?'

'No, this is where you'd take a hint and leave.'

House, clearly not picking up on her overt signals, walked straight past her and sat down on the sofa. Cameron hadn't expected that. Normally, she would have been clapping her hands with glee at his unexpected appearance and apparent reluctance to leave. But somehow the mood wasn't right. The banter held no appeal. Leaving him in the living room, she wandered into the bathroom, desperately needing to find a space that couldn't be invaded.