Yay! Four! Need I say more? (Hey... I rhyme!)


CHAPTER FOUR – THE CHICKEN… OR THE EGGS…

"How many people asked you?" Wilson asked Cameron, approaching her as she waited by his car.

She smiled. "Including patients?"

"Let's leave it at hospital staff."

She cocked her head, considering, as he opened the car doors. "About ten."

"Ten? Only ten?" He swung into the car.

She laughed and got in as well, putting on her seatbelt. "Yeah, I know. It's a little disappointing. Obviously we're not as big news as we thought we were."

Wilson started the car and exited the car park. "Obviously. It's very disheartening."

"The most surprising thing was the lack of reaction from House. I mean, he must have heard, and it's against his nature not to stick his nose into it. But he didn't say anything."

"To you, maybe."

"Oh. He said something to you?"

"Uh… demanded to know what we were doing together. Whether we were having sex."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I said we've been making glorious love every night for the past two months. What do you think I told him? I said he had his wires crossed."

"And how did he react?" she asked hopefully.

He glanced at her. "I… really didn't notice…" he admitted.

She sagged slightly, her happiness level going down a few notches, and he groaned internally. Way to wreck a perfectly pleasant conversation.

"But something could have been there," he offered. "I mean, I'm a man, just because I didn't notice—"

"Stop," she interrupted, giving him a tired smile. "I know what you're doing. It's okay, really. I'm not gonna get all girly on you and cry or anything."

He tapped the steering wheel and changed the subject. "So, did you get any crap from the rest of the team?"

"Foreman was pleasantly and predictably unquestioning, though I would have told him, had he asked. The idea of you and me… it's just too weird to keep up with him."

He pulled up in front of her house and stopped the engine. "Yeah. It is," he said, suddenly without much conviction. He felt close to Cameron, now. He was actually starting to think that the idea of them being together wouldn't be so bad… He let the trail of thought go and refused to dwell on it, especially not while he was staying in her home. And her bed, with her in it, was only a couple of yards away from the couch…

He shook his head and got out, joining her on the path leading towards her apartment block. "And Chase?"

She grimaced and opened the front door. "Chase… was a different story. He was a little more… meddling." They ascended the stairs and headed along the corridor to her apartment, the shiny letter 'F' marking it as the door at the end.

"How so?"

She pulled out her keys and let them inside. "He demanded to know whether we were going out."

He shrugged off his coat and placed it on the back of the couch. "And you said?"

"I told him…" she seemed to choose her words carefully. "I told him it was none of his business, and that he should leave me alone, because my private life has nothing to do with him. Tea?"

Wilson flinched. "Harsh… and yeah, please." He ambled after her into the kitchen.

"Why was that harsh?" she asked, filling up the kettle. "It's true."

"Yes, it is. But he likes you. That's what makes it harsh."

She scoffed. "He'll get over it. If I said the same to Foreman, he'd get—"

"Yes, but Foreman doesn't look at you the way Chase does."

She turned to face him, eyes wide, and he held in a laugh.

"What?" she breathed.

"You have no idea what you can do, do you? I guess that's what makes you all the more appealing to him… he likes you. As in, likes you. In girl talk, he has a crush on you."

She shook her head slowly. "No way… I told him—"

"You told him, yes. Did he listen, no. He's probably under the delusion that you'll one day come to your senses and realise what a great guy he is, and run off with him to Australia. Or that you're just not admitting about your true, raw feelings. As House says, everybody lies."

She scrunched up her nose and finally regained movement in her limbs, picking out two mugs from a cupboard. "That's just… great. I wish you hadn't told me. How will I work with him now?... Sugar?"

He shook his head. "Well, you'll probably just work with him how you have been for the past year—as friends. And if he tries to further anything, make it clear you're not interested."

The kettle clicked, signifying it was done, and she grimaced.

"Well, I think I sorta already made it clear. Today, when I told him it was none of his business, I didn't just tell him… I sorta yelled it at him. Plus a whole bunch of other stuff. None of it nice."

"Like what?" he asked curiously, accepting the tea she gave him.

"Um, like… how he's just a spoilt, needy rich kid, and how I'm not his property and how he looks for acceptance in women but never finds it…" she frowned and wrapped her hands around her mug. "I was really mean."

"Yeah, sounds like it. But all those things are true. Chase needed to hear them." He took a sip. "Better not let House know, though, or it'll ruin your nice-girl reputation. Plus, he'll probably start coming to you for his material."

"He was there. I don't know for how long, but he heard some of it."

"Well, there goes your reputation…"

"And the worst part is, now I feel guilty. I feel bad that I may have dented Chase's ego, or something…"

"Well, you could pretend you were high again…" Wilson offered.

She gave him an unimpressed look. "Yeah, that'll work." She shook her head. "Anyway. What's done is done. I'll just apologise tomorrow and—"

"No!" Wilson exclaimed sharply. "If you apologise, it'll be like you didn't mean it, like it was mistake of you say it to him. My advice? Don't say anything. Let him come to you. And even then, don't apologise. He'll get the picture."

"Are you sure?"

"Hey. I've had two, soon to be three, divorces, and many a fight in each of them. Arguments and apologies are my speciality."

She thought for a few minutes and smiled warmly at him. "Thanks, Wilson. You're a good listener."

"Just repaying the sentiment. Us nicies, we gotta stick together against the mean people of the world."

She laughed and yawned. "So true… I think I'm gonna catch an early night. See you in the morning?"

He nodded and she kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight."

He blinked, rubbing his cheek, and smiled slowly.


She awoke as soon as her alarm started buzzing, and headed towards the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. Considerably more awake, she went to the lounge, ready to wake Wilson again. To her surprise, though, he was already up and in the kitchen, in front of the stove. The table was set and the room smelt of cooking bacon.

He turned and carefully emptied out an even amount of scrambled eggs on two plates and noticed her standing there.

"Good morning," he greeted her, expertly flipping bacon next to the eggs.

"Good morning, indeed! What brought all this on?" she sniffed and sighed. "That smells so good… I haven't had a proper breakfast in ages."

He took the two plates to the table and pulled out her chair for her. "Today I pamper you, to thank you again for giving me a place to stay. No more cereal for you."

"I already told you, I—"

"Uh uh ah! No comments from you. Just sit and eat."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist sampling the eggs. "Mmm… yum! These are fantastic!"

"As expected," he said, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Now… coffee or orange juice?"

"I have oranges?"

"Well… no. I went and bought most of these ingredients. But the offer's still there."

"Some orange juice would be great."

He pulled a jug of freshly-squeezed orange juice out from the fridge, and set it on the table before settling down himself. "Also, I want to take you out tonight. Somewhere nice."

She sighed and put down her fork. "James, I get that you're thankful, but you really don't—"

"But I do," he said quietly. "More than that. I want to. Allison, just let me do this. Please? And then I promise, after today, even if I stay for another few months—which, don't worry, won't actually be happening, I promise—I will never utter another 'thank you'. I just need to do something good, for someone who deserves it. Don't you ever get that feeling?"

She nodded reluctantly and he smiled. "Good. Now, I'm taking you somewhere nice, and the reservation's at seven thirty, so you may have to take a change of clothes to the hospital. Is that okay?"

"Yeah. Actually, that would be great. The last time I went out somewhere even vaguely nice was… with House. So, yes, as long as I never hear another grateful word come out of your mouth, you may take me out to dinner."

"Good." Satisfied, he began to attack his own food.

She secretly watched him, throwing glances at him while they ate in silence. It struck her how similar they were. He looked… He looked like she often felt when she did something nice for someone – satisfied, contented and pleased with himself.

The situation felt weird. It's not that she wasn't used to kindness – she knew she was nice, and often grew annoyed at her depth for it. The weird thing was that the nice deed was occurring to her. It was strange, she decided, but also good. She liked it. And she liked Wilson. She liked him more and more each day. That was the weirdest, most confusing thing.