Coffee. He needed coffee.
House stuck his head into the conference room, making sure it was empty. When all was clear, he hobbled in and made straight for the coffee pot.
"My coffee not good enough for you?" Cameron asked lightly from behind him. House set down his mug and turned to face her. He couldn't tell her that he hadn't eaten any of her food; because even for House, sounding that ungrateful was not an option. Cameron smiled as she watched the internal war raging inside him, shuffling to her desk.
"About last night…" House said, his body becoming completely rigid.
"My lips are sealed," she replied. She didn't look at him while she unpacked her laptop and got herself ready for the day.
"Right. Well…" He grabbed his coffee and went past her into his office. "Check on Emily. She's going to be discharged in a few days, but we want to keep her healthy until then." Cameron stopped moving, his words replaying in her head.
"You aren't going to?" she asked. She heard House coming back before he appeared at the doorway.
"Cameron, you were in that room yesterday. You can't honestly think that Emily is going to want me treating her." He blinked and smiled as he thought of something. "In fact I wouldn't be too surprised if she got sick again, just to spite my diagnosis." Cameron opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a knock on the glass door. They both glanced up, mildly surprised to see Wilson with his hand poised for another knock, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He opened one tentatively, checking to make sure he wasn't walking in on anything. Relaxing, he pulled the door open and entered the room.
"So-" He started curtly.
"Don't even," House warned him. Wilson glared at his friend, but instead of achieving the desired effect of frightening him, merely made House want to pee his pants laughing.
"House," he continued, ignoring the grins that had erupted on House and Cameron's faces. "The whole hospital knows something went on between you and your patient yesterday. But apparently Dr. Cameron is the only one who knows what." His gaze turned on Cameron, whose face flushed bright.
"Cameron is not going to say a word," House mumbled, giving her a look. She nodded in agreement and went to work on her computer, silently praying to be left out of this conversation. House got her subtle hint and backed into his office, closely followed by Wilson. Wilson sat in the easy chair by the door, and kept his eye on House as he sat behind his desk.
"You're going to have to tell me sooner or later," Wilson informed him. House locked his gaze on his cane, which was precariously perched on the corner of his desk.
"Do you remember," House spoke softly, barely loud enough for Wilson to hear. "When I told you about my father. Why he was in jail?" Wilson screwed his face up in thought.
"Yeah," he said slowly, as though the memory was still coming to him. "It had something to do with your sister, one I'd never-" That was when it hit him. His expression changed from astonishment to happiness before settling to utter shock. "Emily Baden is your sister?" House shifted uneasily, which was enough of an answer for Wilson. "I take it she didn't take to meeting you too well. Are you going to do anything?"
"What can I do? She made it clear that she wants nothing to do with me." Wilson shrugged his shoulders, getting to his feet to leave.
"Really, all you can do is show how sorry you are. Show her how miserable it's made you."
He went back into the conference room to say a few words to Cameron before disappearing, leaving House to think.
The glowing red numbers on the clock blurred as House stared at it. 6:45. What was he still doing here? It was Friday night. He should be down at a bar with Wilson, relieving the stresses of the week. But as he sat in his office, all he wanted to do was go home and sleep.
He glanced up as the lights in the conference room shut off. Cameron was standing in the doorway that adjoined the two rooms, regarding him intently. Reaching for his cane, he stood up and walked closer, stopping just a foot or so in front of her.
"Do you…" he began. His voice was rocky. He hadn't used it much that day. "Would you like some dinner?" Oh hell.
Cameron smiled at his attempt though, and nodded as she hitched her bag up on her shoulder.
"Like right now?"
"If…if you aren't busy."
"Nope. I just have to run home quick and change, but I can be by your place around 7:30."
"Great," House said, forcing a smile. Cameron shook her head, silently laughing to herself as she turned and walked out of the conference room.
House sat at his piano twenty minutes later, his fingers positioned over the keys though he didn't play a note. He stared at the nearly full bottle of scotch in front of him, debating whether he should empty it a little bit. He could hardly believe his bold move of asking Cameron over for dinner. Not only because had he been trying to forget what had happened between them, but also because he had no idea what to fix for her. Since he had been living alone, he had specialized in dialing the take-out number. But he had a strange urge to impress Cameron and cook for her.
Dropping his arms to his sides House pushed himself up and went into the kitchen. On his way home from work he had stopped by the grocery store around the corner and picked up a few things for lasagna. He hadn't actually made his lasagna since he was with Stacey, but she'd always said how great it tasted. He really hoped she wasn't just being nice. He had put the noodles, meat, cheese, and sauce together as soon as he got home and had gotten it right into the oven. Now as it cooked, he could smell the thick, delicious aroma filling the apartment. He pulled out a second pan and poured in some frozen veggies to cook over the stove. As their dinner finished cooking, he limped into his 'dining room' to set the table, exactly as Cameron had done a few nights before. After a short two-minute battle with himself, he brought two candles from the hall closet and set them between the two plates. There, he thought. Possibly the most disgustingly romantic display he could have come up with.
Cameron rapped on his door at exactly 7:30. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a simple t-shirt, but she looked beautiful just the same. House ushered her in and had her sit on the couch. She slid off her jacket as she glanced at the perfectly set table.
"It's beautiful," she said pointing at the table as House handed her a glass of wine. He cleared his throat but didn't speak. Cameron knew he was probably rethinking his offer, but she couldn't help follow him back into the kitchen. She leaned against the counter as he pulled the lasagna from the oven, cut out two huge pieces, and placed them on the plates. Cameron closed her eyes, just breathing in the smells he had created.
"Come on, no sleeping yet," House said lowly, nudging her with his elbow. She smiled and went to sit at the table, staring hungrily at the lasagna before her.
"Did you make this yourself or is this one of those frozen deals?" she asked playfully, poking it with her fork.
"I can cook," he replied, feigning offense. "Though the vegetables were frozen at one point…" Cameron laughed and stuffed a bite of the pasta into her mouth. House smiled, pleased with himself, when her eyes grew in shock.
"This is incredible," she said, chewing slowly. "Did you pick the right profession?" House smiled wider, taking a bite of his own. They ate in silence, save for Cameron's sounds of delight at the tastes in her mouth. When they had finished, it was House that got up and cleared the table, leaving Cameron to sip her wine. She got up slowly and went to sit on the couch, tucking her legs under her. Happiness flooded her when she thought about where she was. Never did she think she would ever be having a home cooked meal with Gregory House, and yet here she was, relaxing on his couch after the best meal she'd had in years.
"You'll want to eat this soon," House said, placing a plate ofchocolate cake under her nose. "That lasagna has a way of making you drowsy."
"What, did you lace it with valium?" Cameron joked, taking the plate.
"No. It's the turkey. Gets you every time." Cameron smiled and took a bite of the chocolatey goodness. As she had expected, it was as delicious as the lasagna. House, it seemed, had a secret talent.
House kept his eyes on the chocolate, but Cameron was watching him chew, a small smile growing on her lips. She was trying to decide if she should kiss him again as House's pager went off. They looked at each other in alarm; they knew no one would page him this late unless it was absolutely necessary. House set his plate down on the coffee table and reached for the beeping interruption.
"Shit!" he hissed. He got up and hurried for his room to find some shoes. Setting her plate by House's she caught a glimpse of his pager. It had a single word flashing across the screen:
'Emily.'