The Frog Prince - Cameron's Dream
A/N: Thanks to house-of-insanity for a brilliant beta-ing job. Also to housefan53, for beta-ing as well.
Cameron was exhausted. House had overworked them today. She'd never run so many gels in one go. Climbing wearily into bed, she promptly fell asleep.
"Differential diagnosis?" House prodded Cameron in the back as he limped past her.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't listening," Cameron said, raising her head.
"I know. I don't want to repeat it. You can go."
"What?"
"Take a walk; it's a nice day."
Cameron looked out the window. It did, indeed, look like a nice day. The sun was shining unusually brightly.
"Fine." Cameron stood up. Although feeling annoyed that House was kicking her out of the office, she appreciated the chance of taking a break.
"Where's Chase?" she asked, looking around the room.
"Don't know," House replied, sitting down heavily at his desk, seemingly unconcerned. "Hasn't been in for a few days."
"Has he called?" Cameron followed House into his office, hands on her hips. "Is he sick?"
"I have no idea," House responded, reaching for his ball. He tossed it up, caught it, then gave Cameron a pointed look, but she didn't budge. House hung his head and offered Cameron the ball.
"Go outside and play," he said, and when she glared at him furiously, he added, "I'll call Chase."
Cameron narrowed his eyes and snatched the ball from him.
"Good girl. Be back in half an hour."
-0-0-0-
As much as she hated to admit it, it was quite pleasant out. The temperature was beautiful to be in.
Cameron walked along, quite content, humming softly. She glanced down at the ball in her hand, and wondered vaguely why she had taken it from House. She knew no one she passed, but they all took time to say hello, and she smiled a response.
Cameron finally came to a stop about 10 minutes later at a small body of water. She checked her watch and decided she could sit down for a while before heading back, to stay within her given time limit.
Cameron leant against the trunk of a shady tree, which shielded her from the direct sunlight, but had leaves sparse enough to allow its warmth filter through. Unconsciously, Cameron weighed up the ball in her hand while her eyes measured the distance over the pond. After a moment of quick calculations, she figured that if she threw it, it would land just long of the bank on the other side, then it would most likely roll a bit into the shrubs.
Again checking the time, Cameron judged she had enough time to test her predictions.
Wasn't even close, she discovered, grimacing when it landed right in the middle of the water.
"Oh-" She shut her mouth quickly, to avoid uttering any obscenities that might be expelled, once she realised that she had just lost House's ball.
She didn't think the toy meant much to House, but he would easily use the excuse to make her life miserable for a while.
Cameron jogged along the path that circled the pond, tight and tense. She peered out into the water and briefly considered wading out to retrieve it. She even thought of using something, a tree branch, perhaps, to try and fish it out.
Seeing no available options, Cameron didn't quite shut her mouth in time.
"Cameron?"
Cameron, at first, didn't hear the voice, too busy worrying what House would say.
"Cameron," the voice said again, more insistently. Cameron looked around, but saw no one.
"Down here."
Cameron was confused. The only things around her were a large bird, which eyed her beadily and flew away, a few lost-looking ants, and a large bullfrog. Otherwise, there were no animate objects about.
"Why are you swearing, Cameron?"
Cameron might have asked the frog how it knew her name if she hadn't been so shocked. Noticing her wide eyes, the frog sighed exasperatedly.
"Oh, here we go."
"How can you-"
"Long story. Moving on. Why are you swearing?"
"But why-"
"I asked first," the frog stated, and if Cameron hadn't still been staring at it in astonishment, she may have found it slightly obnoxious.
"I-" Cameron hesitated momentarily, realising that she was about to tell a frog her current worries.
"I threw my boss' ball into the pond. And I know that sounds like nothing, but you don't know my-"
"Ah," said the frog. "You'd be in a bit of trouble. I'll get it. Wait here."
Before Cameron could say anything, the frog had thrown itself into the water, and she watched the ripples it made as it swam towards the middle, then disappeared from view.
Cameron stood with bated breath, still puzzled by this mystery. She went over the string of events. A frog had greeted her, listened to her whine, and told her to wait while he saved the drowned ball.
No, she shook her head, she couldn't make any sense of it whatsoever.
There was something spookily familiar about the frog, but Cameron couldn't quite place it.
"I'm back," came a voice from below, though Cameron had already been warned of its arrival by the cool wet patch it had made when it hopped up onto her foot.
Even in this crazy situation, Cameron found her manners.
"That was quick," she remarked politely. "You must be a good swimmer."
"Thanks," said the frog, taking her compliment in its stride. "I swam a lot when I was younger. The whole country did, really."
It obviously wasn't aware that it had said anything out of the ordinary. Cameron picked up the dripping ball with two fingers, taking in the mud and weeds that clung to it.
"Well, thank you for that," Cameron said. "I'd better go."
"Wait," the frog called as she stepped away. Cameron stopped, sighed inwardly, knowing she was going to be at least 10 minutes late, and turned around with a strained smiled.
"Yes?"
"Can I come with you?"
Cameron narrowed her eyes.
"Come with me where?"
"To your boss."
Cameron laughed. "Trust me, you don't want-"
"Trust me," the frog interrupted. "I do."
Cameron made a quick decision and, scared of the prospect of appearing rude, she bent down, making a face, and picked up the frog in her other hand.
"Sit tight," she murmured, but flinched when the frog dug its claws into her palm.
They travelled slowly, Cameron not wanting to run in fear of dropping the creature. She forced herself to talk to it while they walked.
"How long have you been living by the pond?" she asked it, not really wanting to know the answer.
"Not long," it replied shortly, clearly not wanting to tell her the answer.
"Do you move around a lot, then?"
"Not much."
Cameron took the lack of response as a hint to stop talking, so they completed the journey in silence.
As they neared the hospital – a good hour after Cameron had set out – Cameron thanked the frog once again.
"I can't give House another reason to torment me."
"What do you mean, another reason?" the frog croaked. "He doesn't torture you nearly as much as- …you're a good doctor, he shouldn't-"
Cameron stopped moving.
"How do you know I'm a good doctor?" she demanded. "In fact, how do you know I'm a doctor?"
The frog hesitated a moment, thinking over its answer.
"Well, the first clue was that we're in front of a hospital. Also, you work for Dr House. You've got to be good to work with him."
For some reason, it puffed its chest out proudly.
"You know Dr House?" Cameron was surprised. She knew House was well known throughout the hospital, but being famous to the point where even animals knew him was just amazing. Of course, Cameron doubted that any other animals had ever heard of him.
"Who doesn't know Dr House?"
"Most frogs I know," Cameron replied under her breath.
Cameron took the elevator, too tired to attempt the stairs. When she reached her floor, she took a right instead of the usual left.
"Where are we going?" it asked suspiciously.
"Um…" How did it know she wasn't going to the office? "I thought you could camp out in the bathroom."
"Why can't I come with you?"
"I don't think Dr House will appreciate me bringing a frog into the office."
"I can handle it," the frog said, pulling itself up to its full height. Which wasn't very tall.
"You don't know House."
"I think I- the men's is over there."
"I know," Cameron said, glancing over, then pushing open the door to the female's bathroom. "But I can't go in there."
The frog's eyes flicked nervously around the room. Cameron smirked.
"There's no one here. Hide in the corner."
The frog nodded slowly. Cameron placed the frog gently on the floor.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," she told the animal. "Just sit tight, okay?"
The frog didn't reply.
She left the bathroom, smiling at Cuddy, who was going in. As the door swung shut behind her, she thought she heard a somewhat desperate croak.
-0-0-0-
Cameron entered the office, trying to be as discreet as possible. House had his back to her, but when she sat next to Foreman, who looked questioningly at her, House turned around, making a big show of looking at his watch.
"You're late," he stated.
"I know, I'm sorry, I…lost track of time," she lied. She was not willing to share the knowledge that there was a talking frog in the women's bathroom. House would say she was going crazy. Maybe she was going crazy.
"Did you call Chase?"
"Yeah, no one answered."
"What?"
"I said, no one-"
"I heard you," she interrupted him impatiently. "Why aren't you worried?"
"Why are you?" he asked, and when she glowered at him, he said, "Because it's Chase. He's probably not sensible enough to have put a phone next to his bed."
Cameron opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when she heard a small noise. It sounded…wet, if noises can sound wet. It got gradually louder, until it came to a stop, ostensibly right outside the office. The curtains were drawn, and she couldn't see through the normally transparent glass walls.
The three doctors heard a knock. House made to move towards the door, but Cameron stood suddenly.
"Let me," she requested and, while confused, House let her.
Cameron wandered casually over to the door, smiling innocently as House and Foreman followed her with their eyes.
As she expected, the frog was sitting patiently in the middle of the doorway.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed, carefully to keep her voice down.
"I want to come in," it told her.
"I think that might not be a good idea"
"Who is it, Cameron?" House asked. "A patient?"
"No, it's a frog," Cameron said scathingly, hoping House would leave her alone.
"Seriously?" came Foreman's puzzled tone to which Cameron responded with a withering look, while subtly shutting the door.
Sliding into her seat, she attempted a carefree expression.
"Who was that?" House asked again, inclining his head towards the door to show her, unnecessarily, what he was talking about.
"No one important," she said brightly, as another knock resounded through the room. Cameron didn't move.
"You gonna get that?" House said, staring unblinkingly at her. She could see he was curious.
"No," was her short reply.
"Who was that?" he repeated, and his tone demanded an answer.
"Just a frog," she said nonchalantly. Foreman obviously decided that it was time to give his input.
"Just a frog?" he echoed. "What do you mean, a frog? What kind of frog?"
"A frog frog!" Cameron exploded, pushing her chair back roughly and standing up. "An ugly, brown, bull frog."
She strode defiantly over to the door, wrenched it open, and scooped up the frog, which let out a startled squeak. Cameron thrust her cupped hands under Foreman's nose, breathing hard.
"See?"
Foreman had shrunk back, terrified that Cameron might throw it at him or something. He gave a slow nod. "I see."
Now that she was in this position, Cameron wasn't entirely sure how to accurately end her scene. She held her hand just above the tabletop, and let the frog slide off. She prayed it wouldn't talk.
"Glad you changed your mind, Cameron."
If Cameron could have harmlessly banged her head against a wall for a few minutes, she would have gladly done so. As it was, she quite liked her brain cells, and thought it was better she didn't give in to her desire.
"Cameron…" Foreman started cautiously. "It's talking."
"Long story," the frog said, at the same time Cameron requested, "Don't ask."
House gave the frog an odd look, as if trying to figure out something, then took his usual place in front of the whiteboard, marker ready to write. Foreman looked politely bewildered, and the frog gazed steadily at Cameron.
"So, who are we working on?" the frog enquired.
"First of all," Cameron cut in, before either House or Foreman could speak, "'we' does not include you. Second of all-"
"Why not?" the frog asked indignantly. "I can-"
"You need a medical license to practice medicine," Cameron explained aggressively.
"How do you know I don't-"
"Because you need to go to college to study medicine so you can get a license," she said, stressing a few choice words. "And since I last heard, they don't accept animals in lessons!"
The frog kept quiet, maybe because he could see how much he was upsetting Cameron, who really wasn't sure why she was so close to tears.
"Second of all," she continued quietly, "we have no patient."
At this, she turned to House for confirmation.
"No," he agreed. "We don't."
Cameron looked back at the frog triumphantly, which hung its head silently. Cameron's breaths had become more shallow and rapid, and she felt slightly faint as she stood, arms crossed.
"Sit down," House ordered her, noticing her sway unstably. She obliged without complaint.
"Ok. Differential diagnosis?" House said, his eyes fixed on the frog.
"I thought you said we didn't have a patient."
Cameron glared at it as it uttered the word 'we', and House gave a small sliver of a smile.
"We didn't. Then you turned up. Now we do. Differential for a talking frog."
"Can we drop this topic?" Cameron entreated angrily, though the frog looked mildly bored.
"Why are you here?" Foreman asked, and it was clear by his expression that it wouldn't be the last question.
"Why not?" the frog responded, and before Foreman could repeat the inquiry, it added, "Next question."
"What kind of relationship do you two have?" Foreman probed. When he was met with shocked silence, Foreman hastily reworded his question.
"I mean, how do you know each other?"
"We…met," Cameron said non-descriptively. "A while ago. Let's focus on…"
She was going to finish her sentence with 'the patient', forgetting for a moment that they didn't have a patient.
"But how can you talk?" Foreman asked the long-awaited question.
"I told you, long story, you don't want to hear it."
Foreman looked very much like he did want to hear it, but wisely said nothing.
"Why are you here?" House put forward Foreman's first question in an attempt to get an answer. The frog opened its mouth, and Cameron shot it a look, warning it not to tell the real story.
"I rescued your ball," the frog declared nobly. Cameron felt more compelled than ever to let her skull connect with a wall.
"My ball needed rescuing?" House said.
"Cameron threw it into the pond."
At its words, House rounded on Cameron. He opened his mouth, probably to censure her strongly, but Cameron got in first.
"But it's right here," she tried. "It's safe, it's fine. It's all good. It's-"
"-wet. And muddy. And-" With each word, he advanced a step towards her.
"I was hoping you wouldn't mind so much," Cameron mumbled.
"Oh, but you know me too well."
Cameron, long ago, learnt not to feel frightened every time House approached her menacingly, but this time, she couldn't help it.
Suddenly, she felt a nudge, just above her elbow. Looking down, she caught sight of the frog trying to clamber up her arm.
"Climbing is for tree frogs," she sibilated, slightly annoyed. "Quit it."
"It's 5 o'clock," the frog told her. "You can go."
Cameron silently thanked the frog, deciding that this made up for all the times he had spoken the word 'we', and quickly backed away from House towards the door.
"I'm going home," she whimpered and, with the frog clinging desperately to her fingers, she fled from the room.
"Let's get out of here," she muttered to the frog, and they left the building with great speed.
-0-0-0-
That night, Cameron was made uncomfortable throughout by the presence of the frog, which talked non-stop, sounding way too familiar for her to forget. When she got ready for bed, the frog hopped up her leg, and she shivered at the touch of it.
"Can I sleep with you?" it asked, turning its unnerving eyes upon her.
Cameron started violently, dropping her toothbrush, which clattered in the sink.
"No," she uttered instinctively, before she thought about what the frog was asking exactly. She spat out a mouthful of toothpaste to reassess the question when the frog looked up mournfully at her.
"Do you want to sleep in my room?"
"Aw, can't I sleep in the bed?" it whined, reminding Cameron strongly a very young child.
"No," she said, this time more firmly. She shuddered at the thought of sharing her bed with a frog.
"Ple-"
"No." The word was out of her mouth before it had even finished its plea.
"Come on," it persisted.
"No."
"I-"
"Do I have to spell it out for you?" she sighed. She felt guilty, and almost sorry for the poor creature. "You can have the one in the spare room."
It seemed a bit silly to offer the frog a whole bed, but it eased her conscience, even though the frog looked disappointed.
When she finished rinsing her mouth, she lightly picked up the frog in one hand, and her glass of water in the other. For whatever reason, the frog was shivering. Perhaps it was cold.
The short walk down the hall had never felt longer. The silence was more uncomfortable than Cameron had experienced.
This frog had the power, Cameron believed, to make anything she said seem awkward or silly. But when she didn't say anything, that felt less than pleasant as well.
"Will you be warm enough?" she asked it, setting it down on the edge of the bed. Looking across at the expanse of the quilt, the frog nodded reassuringly.
"I'll be…right."
Cameron mirrored his nod, though perhaps not so firmly, and tried not to feel repentant for leaving him. She was afraid he wouldn't resurface from the mass of sheets. He was rather small, compared to the bed.
"Sleep well," she bade him, and she left he room, closing the door quietly, and flicking the light switch.
She switched her earrings to sleepers, peering into the bathroom mirror, wondering how her day had become so weird. Feeling rather strange, she started to change her clothes, readying herself for bed.
"I can't sleep."
Cameron jumped, drawing in a sharp breath of air. She spun around, looking down, knowing what sight was going to greet her.
"How long have you been sitting there?" she asked self-consciously, clutching the shirt she hadn't quite pulled over her head yet to her chest.
"Not…long," it said vaguely, then, after seeing her face, added hastily, "I didn't see…much."
'Much' was not really the word Cameron wanted to hear, but it didn't look like she was getting any other answer.
"What do you want?" she asked roughly, trying to remind herself that it was just a frog.
"Sure I can't sleep with-"
"Oh, for God's sake." Cameron threw her shirt on unabashedly, and scooped up the little frog. She stormed down the hallway, back to the spare room.
"Go to sleep," she said forcefully, putting the frog down, none too gently, on the mattress.
She went back to her own room irritably, and climbed into bed. The light was off, and Cameron soon went to sleep.
Cameron awoke the next morning, and was faced, when she opened her eyes, with a brown ball, curled up right under her nose. She shrieked, and leapt back, forgetting it wasn't such a good idea to do that when you're lying on the edge of a bed, and landed on the floor with a loud crash.
Picking herself up gingerly, she went to see what the object was, and was most annoyed when she saw the frog.
"What are you doing here?" she asked it crossly. She stood up, trying to catch her breath.
"I told you," it replied, opening an eye sleepily, "I couldn't sleep in the other room."
"You should have tried harder," she complained, then a bit quieter, appended, "You gave me a fright."
"I could hear," the frog said derisively. The frog pulled a face fleetingly, then brightened up. "What's for breakfast?"
Cameron had quickly used up all her patience and tolerance on the frog, and she thought that she had better do something about it.
"Look…frog," she said, not entirely sure how to address it, but it hadn't given her any clue to what its name might be. "Are you going to go back home today?"
The question came out rather more forceful than she had intended, and the frog looked slightly hurt.
"You don't want me-"
Cameron sighed, and tried to make amends. "It's just a bit inconvenient."
There was silence. Then-
"Ok, I'll go. I'll come with you to the hospital, and then I can make my way back to where you found me."
Cameron was surprised it was so willing to comply.
Eager to get rid of the creature, she skipped breakfast, telling the frog she wasn't hungry, and that she didn't have any insects for it anyway (although she wasn't sure if it was her imagination, or the frog really did look fairly disgusted at the mention of flies).
-0-0-0-
"I do have on last request before I go," the frog said when they stepped out into the hospital car park. Cameron groaned inwardly.
"You owe me, anyway."
"I took you in last night," she pointed out. "AND you slept with me."
She paused, realising how that sounded, but shook it off.
"You saw House's reaction yesterday," the frog protested. "Imagine how much worse it would have been if you hadn't brought the ball back."
Cameron imagined. She suddenly felt very grateful towards the frog.
"Fine," she sighed. "What's your…final request?"
"One kiss."
Cameron started. This was worse than asking her to sleep with him.
"No," she laughed incredulously. "No, not-"
"Please. It's really important."
"I don't see how me kissing you is really important." She said the words with distaste.
"Just trust me, it's-"
"You know, last time you said that, I shouldn't have."
The frog hung its head.
"Of course," it said sorrowfully. "Of course you wouldn't…I didn't think…"
It looked so sad, that Cameron instantly gave in, even though she found the thought repulsive.
"Ok. Come here. Make it quick."
The frog brightened considerably, and moved towards Cameron. She picked it up reluctantly, and held it up to her face.
Here goes nothing, Cameron thought, and put her lips to its. She shuddered when it put its front legs up to her cheeks.
It seemed to go on; the frog gripping tightly. She closed her eyes, wishing it would stop.
And then she felt lighter, somehow. She opened her eyes, and shrieked for the second time that day.
The frog had disappeared; instead, previously kissing her, was Chase.
"Don't be scared," Chase instructed quickly. "I can explain."
Cameron was taking short, shallow breaths, fighting the urge to scream.
"I was trying to make something in the lab for my cough. I must have dropped in something I wasn't supposed to. It happened slowly. Remember, about a week ago, I kept dropping things, and you kept calling me butterfingers? I was getting scared, then, because my fingers were webbed. And a couple of days back, you mentioned I looked a bit green. That's because…I was."
Cameron's hands had come up to her open mouth to prevent any loud noises from escaping. Chase gave her a minute to calm down and accept, which she did, slowly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice still not quite steady.
"I though…" Chase his head sheepishly, blushing lightly. "I thought you wouldn't kiss me."
Cameron was shocked, though almost flattered.
"You thought I'd rather kiss a frog than you?"
Chase didn't reply. He didn't look her in the eye. Cameron called his name, which made him look up.
"Chase? You really thought that?"
He seemed all ready to deny it, but in the end, uttered a simple, "Yeah."
Cameron smiled.
"Let me show you something."
Chase eyed her curiously. She took his face tenderly, and kissed him sweetly. She stepped back too quickly for Chase to react, and gazed at him, positively beaming.
"All you had to do was ask."
Cameron opened her eyes lazily, disappointed that she had woken. She had had a particularly pleasant dream and, although she couldn't recall all the details, she had the main points embedded firmly in her mind. She got up, and went about her morning tasks, smiling.
A/N: Credit to a friend (JapaneseGeishaDoll) who utters the line "No, it's a frog" too many times not to be annoying. It's used, normally (for those who don't know), sarcastically, when some asks an obvious question. Eg: "Is that your mum?" "No, it's a frog."
But she loves it so much; she uses it in irrelevant cases as well.
Eg: "Are you coming with us?" "No, I'm a frog."
Anyway.