Disclaimer: They're still not mine. But if they WERE, I'd be getting tutoring from all of them. Forget this studying shit. ;)
Chapter Five
It wasn't difficult for Cameron to wake up at five every morning. She liked doing it. It gave her energy for the day after she'd jogged and showered. There was something distinctly therapeutic about a morning jog, even if it was just on a treadmill.
Her alarm was on the coffee table and went of at precisely five A.M. She'd already been up for about five minutes, and rolled over to turn the alarm off. After stretching and popping her neck, she realized that she'd left all of her clothes in her room… Where House was currently sleeping.
No big deal. She'd just sneak right in and then sneak right out. It wasn't like she'd wake him. Mind made up, she slowly opened the door to the bedroom and quietly snuck in, going to the drawers for her jogging clothes before going to her closet for her suit for the day. She couldn't help but steal a glance at him.
Much as she wanted to be, there was no way she was over House. At least she was willing to admit that to herself. And as she stole that glance, she smiled softly. He looked … peaceful. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. There were no angry lines on his face; his brow wasn't scrunched as he thought. He was just there, thoughtless.
Cameron bit her bottom lip and went silently to the side of the bed, pushing the covers up under his chin. They'd fallen to his waist some time during the night, and she couldn't stop herself from fixing them before leaving the room to go on with her morning routine.
She turned on her iPod, something she rarely actually used, and stuck the earphones in before turning on the treadmill and starting her morning jog. A bottle of water sat dutifully by her side. What she loved most about her morning jog was that it gave her time to think about whatever she wanted to.
Much to her chagrin, this morning's thoughts were not about the patient; they were about the man sleeping in her bed. She upped the pace on the treadmill and ran harder when she realized that she was considering not changing the bed sheets just so that she could smell him before she went to sleep. How disgustingly pathetic.
What she needed was some sort of distraction. Maybe she'd call up some of her friends and take a girl's night out sometime this week. Thursday might be good… They could all go out and have fun and she wouldn't dwell on Dean's death and she wouldn't have to spend the time with House. What bothered her most about the possibility of spending the evening with House wasn't that he had a chance of seeing her cry; he'd already seen that before. He knew that she had her weak moments and, usually, mocked or teased her for them. Big deal; she could handle that. Hell, it would probably make her feel better.
The thing that really got to her about the possibility of spending Thursday evening with House was that she wouldn't spend it crying. Oh, no. She'd spend it finding some way to jump House. That was what she did when the anniversary of Dean's death rolled around. If there was a man around, he was game. Anything to take her mind off of Dean. Her reasoning was that Dean had told her the day he died to love again. Bad reasoning to have sex every time the anniversary rolled around, but hey … House had been right when he told her that she was damaged. Damn him for always being right.
She let out a squeal of surprise when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Quickly, she pulled the headphones out of her ears and turned around. This, incidentally, caused her to fall since she'd left the treadmill running. She slid off of the treadmill and fell with a soft thump onto the ground, where she saw the butt of a cane and two feet accompanying it.
"That was graceful," House commented, smirking down at Cameron. "I particularly liked the part where your ass hit the treadmill." He picked his cane up off of the ground and extended it to hit the button that turned the treadmill off.
Cameron swiped her bangs out of her face and glared up at House. "It's not even six in the morning yet. Shouldn't you still be sleeping?"
"I woke up when someone tucked me in again."
Her face flushed in embarrassment and she rubbed her forehead. "I… You looked cold," she muttered, pushing off of the ground and grabbing the water that had been sitting in the holder on the treadmill.
"I looked cold?" he asked with a small laugh. "How does one look cold, exactly?"
"You had no shirt on and this apartment is always cool!" she defended, turning to face him. Her eyes widened slightly. "…you still don't have a shirt on."
"Yes, well, you know… I usually sleep in the nude, but I thought it might disturb you if I wandered about your apartment naked. So I ever-so-kindly brought pajama pants." He noticed that her eyes were darting up and down his body, and a self-satisfied grin settled onto his face. "Then again… Maybe you wouldn't mind it so much."
Cameron shook her head to clear it and then blinked blankly at him. "Sorry, what?" she asked dumbly.
He laughed and hobbled to the kitchen. Cameron's eyes followed him. "I'm … going to go shower," she finally said, leaving her bottled water in the holder on the treadmill.
House fought back the urge to ask her if she was informing or offering and watched as she shook her head all the way to the bathroom. So she wasn't over him. Or, at least, she was still attracted to him. And that meant that she could still re-develop feelings. Wait. Rewind. Why did he care about Cameron's feelings for him? Oh, right. Because, as Wilson was constantly reminding him, he was a lonely, angry man.
Sometimes, Wilson just pissed him off. Sure, the two of them were best friends. In all reality, Wilson was House's only friend. And House didn't mind that all that much. Fewer friends meant fewer possibilities of being betrayed. The thought of betrayal put an acrid taste in his mouth… The very word reminded him of Stacy.
He heard the shower shoot on, which brought him out of his thoughts. A small frown settled on his face as he made his way around Cameron's kitchen. He wanted a glass of water. Where the hell did she keep the glasses?
Diligently, he went opened all of the cupboards until he found the glasses. After finding a glass, he dropped some ice into it and went to the sink, turning on the water to fill it. It was at that time he heard a distinct screech from the bathroom. Oops… Cameron was still in the shower. He cringed when he heard a door being thrown open.
Cameron came storming into the kitchen, her body wrapped in nothing but a towel. "What the hell are you doing!" she asked angrily. "Who the hell runs water when the shower's on in an apartment? Are you insane!"
House's face went slack and it was his turn to scan Cameron. "A little."
"I was almost done, House. You couldn't have waited one more minute for a damned glass of water? There's a Brita water jug in the fridge, for God's sake! You don't even have to use the tap!"
"I…" Cameron. Towel. Legs. God, look at those LEGS… He was a mere man, damn it all. He was bound to notice a gorgeous woman clad in nothing but a towel.
"You know, I let you stay here thinking that you wouldn't interrupt any of my morning or evening routines. Last night was fine, and early this morning was fine. But… Damn it, House! What the hell are you staring at!"
"Those gorgeous tits," he answered without hesitation.
Cameron's mouth dropped open and her hands flew to her towel. House noticed that when she blushed, it started right above those delectable breasts and rose up her neck and to her face. He stared at her unabashedly and did so until she fled back to the bathroom.
Today was going to be a long day, to be sure.
MD + MD - MD + MD - MD + MD - MD + MD - MD + MD - MD + MD - MD + MD
They had decided to ride into work together, taking Cameron's car. The ride in was thoroughly awkward, as Cameron was trying to avoid all possible conversation and House was looking everywhere but Cameron. Finally, he sighed in agitation and turned off the radio.
"This would be far less awkward if we had at least made out."
Cameron's grip on the steering wheel tightened and her jaw clenched. "House, I don't want to talk about this."
"I can't work with you if you're not going to talk to me," he pointed out rationally, tapping his cane on the floor of the car. "Remember? We sort of need you for differentials."
"I'll participate in the differentials," she replied simply, keeping her eyes glued to the road. She could drive perfectly well if she glanced at him every now and again. She simply refused to do that right now. "We never talk beyond them anyway."
"Do I detect a hint of bitterness in that statement, Dr. Cameron?"
"Don't…" she warned weakly. She didn't want to deal with this today. She didn't. Not right now. Not this week, for the love of God. "Just don't."
House tapped his foot and reached to turn the radio back on. Fine. He didn't want to discuss the whole thing, anyway. He just wanted to be sure that they could still work together. Cameron was too nice to kick him out now, even if she was feeling awkward around him.
Soon enough, they arrived at work, Cameron storming ahead of House all they way up to his office. Foreman and Chase turned as soon as the door to the diagnosis room flew open, both of them wearing matching grins.
"Trouble in paradise?" Chase asked after he saw the harassed look on her face.
"Shut it," Cameron snapped, dropping her bag on the floor and going over to make the coffee.
"You okay?" Foreman asked, ever playing the part of the concerned older brother.
"I'm fine," she muttered, opening the patient file to skim it again. "Any new symptoms or any changes?"
"Caitlin hasn't had any more seizures since we put her on the phenytoin and there aren't any new symptoms as of yet."
"So now she's on how many meds?" House asked as he walked into the room and to the dry erase board. "What can this be, people? Differentials."
"Wait a minute," Foreman said with an incredulous laugh, holding a hand up for House to stop. "What are you doing here before nine-thirty?"
"Sunshine over there made sure I was out of bed," he grumbled, nodding his head toward Cameron. "Now. Differentials."
"You mean she's letting you stay with her?" Chase asked, eyes wide. Was Cameron out of her mind?
"Yes, and we're done discussing this. Differentials."
"What did you do to get her to agree?" Foreman butted in, liking the fact that this bothered the hell out of House too much not to continue with it. "Offer her a raise?"
"Foreman-."
"Maybe he offered her another date," Chase replied, completely ignoring House's protests. "It got her to come back to work for him."
"Dr. Chase-."
"I've got it!" Foreman exclaimed, joining in the game with Chase. "He offered her a raise AND told her he'd take her out on a date."
House glowered and turned to Cameron. "Why aren't you stopping this?" he demanded, pointing at the two younger doctors with his cane.
"I think it's funny," she said simply, handing House his coffee cup and going to sit between her friends and coworkers at the table. She looked at the symptoms and frowned thoughtfully. "What about metabolic syndrome?" she asked suddenly. "It would account for the miscarriages because of PCOS, which also explains the missed periods."
"No insulin uptake problems. And she has type one diabetes, not type two."
Foreman piped up to agree with Cameron. "But she does have diabetes, and the insulin uptake problems aren't present in every case of metabolic syndrome."
House sighed and nodded. "Chase, run some blood work and check her LDL cholesterol. Cameron, get a better patient history. I want to know where Daddy is during this whole thing. Foreman, you're with me. We're breaking into a house to check for some environmental possibilities."
"Hold on a minute," Foreman protested. "Caitlin is sick, but her mother isn't and neither is her husband. If there is an environmental link, it's not going to be at either home."
House rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. Chase, run the blood work. Cameron, get the history. Foreman, go find out where the hell the girl works and run over there like a good little ducky and snoop around. Clear?"
His ducklings all exchanged a look and went off to do their jobs. Thank the heavens. House went back into his office to look up some possible links between the symptoms. It wasn't long before Cuddy was in his office. He looked up and glared at her. "I was in on time today. I was even early. Well … for me."
Cuddy smiled and sat down in one of the chairs adjacent to his desk. "I'm not here to yell at you, which has to be a first. Wilson tells me you're staying with Cameron."
"Does he tell you everything?" he asked, annoyed. "I promise we're not doing anything naughty, Mommy," he replied with a roll of his eyes, returning his attention to his computer. "Well … besides that thing she did what that strip pole. But that was nothing!"
His boss didn't look one bit miffed by his snark, which bothered him. If he couldn't piss off Cuddy, something was going horribly wrong in his life.
"Did the two of you get along?" she prodded, trying to contain her own excitement. Who cared if Cameron was House's employee? She was the only woman Cuddy could ever see him being happy with. She'd overlook the boss-employee deal if only because Cameron could probably keep House on track.
"Not at first, but we DID have some rather steamy make-up sex," he replied with a waggle of his eyebrows.
Cuddy, however, was not deterred. "I'm trying to be serious, House."
House pushed away from his computer with a dramatic sigh. "I fail to see how it's any of your business, Dr. Cuddy."
"Only looking out for you, Dr. House," she sparred. "You didn't upset her too much, did you?"
House threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Why is it every time anything happens that involves me and Cameron in the same room, everyone assumes that I intentionally upset her? Sure, I do it on occasion, but it's not an ever-recurring theme."
"You're House. You snark, you manipulate, and you always come out the victor. I want to know what's going on."
"I think I explained this yesterday," he said slowly, speaking as though Cuddy were no more than two years old. "There were cock-y-roaches in my sink. The nice, big, roach-killer man told me to sleep at a friend's house until he got rid of the mean, nasty cock-y-roaches."
"House…"
"Go ask Cameron," he snapped. "She'll spill the beans to anyone who asks. It's what she does."
Cuddy stood and smoothed her skirt. "Fine," she said, her smile still firmly in place. "I will. I think a little lunch between us is in order anyway… We're the only two women who can stand to be anywhere near you."
"Oh, that was sweet."
"I'm like sugar."
"Wilson tell you that? I hear he's looking for a new wife, if you're interested." House's eyes lit up and he smiled widely. "Hey! You're even Jewish, too! It's like a match made in Heaven! Oh, wait… Do you people believe in Heaven?"
"Cute." With her cheery demeanor thoroughly dampened, Cuddy walked out of House's office. She was definitely going to be taking Dr. Cameron out to lunch, though… After all, it was part of the plan.