The last chapter I can re-load at the moment. The remaining five chapterswill be posted at a later date, hopefully soon (the things you do to avoid doing homework)... Anywho, enjoy and review review review!


CHAPTER FIVE – NO PAIN, NO GAIN

Cameron followed Foreman into their newest patient's house. It was a thirty-six year-old male with unexplainable fever, rash and headaches, and House had sent them there to check for anything that may have caused it. Cameron started in the kitchen, while Foreman took the bathroom.

"So, what exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" Foreman called to her.

She looked on and under the sink. "Toxins, drugs, anything. Something that could have set off his symptoms."

She heard Foreman's sigh around the banging of drawers. "Like what? We're grabbing at straws."

"We're always grabbing at straws. And if sometimes we don't succeed, well, that's okay. Because I'd rather be grabbing at straws than be standing around doing nothing." She finished her search and passed him on the way to the bedroom. "Kitchen's clean."

"So's the bathroom." He crossed into the lounge. "I should have known you'd be on House's side."

"It's not about sides. It's about right and wrong. What we're doing here is right."

"Breaking into someone's home and going through their stuff, for something that may or may not be there, is right?"

She smiled to herself and searched in his wardrobe. "You know what I mean! On the off chance that we actually find something—"

"While I'm risking another mark on my record."

"—we might just find something that will save his life!"

She finished in his room and went to the laundry. Foreman joined her.

"The key word being 'might'. And don't tell me it's not about sides – it's always about sides, especially when House is involved."

She laughed as she inspected the man's laundry detergent. "This much is true."

Foreman turned and flashed a cheeky grin at her back. "Or maybe you'll start siding with Wilson, now."

She groaned and stood. "I knew this was gonna come up. I'm just surprised you managed to wait until today to ask about it… There's nothing. It's not environmental. There's nothing here and he hardly ever even leaves his house."

"How do you know?"

"He's a writer – all his stuff is in his room. He gets home grocery delivery. Has an internet fridge that fixes everything for him. He only has about five pairs of clothing in his closet, four of them pajamas, one a worn, old tracksuit. One pair of slippers. Trust me, this guy doesn't get out much."

She led the way out of his house, and Foreman re-locked the door with their lifted key.

"Well, even though we didn't find anything, we still managed to narrow it down."

"Yeah, at least," she stripped her gloves off and stuffed them in her pocket, glad that he seemed to have forgotten about his question regarding Wilson. They got into the car and headed back to Princeton Plainsboro.

"I haven't forgotten," he said eventually.

"I should have known; you never forget anything. Okay, I'm gonna say this once. And you can believe me or not. Wilson is getting divorced from his wife. He was sleeping in his office. He didn't have anywhere else to go, so I offered him the couch at my place. The end."

"Okay, I believe you. What I wanna know is, if you're so reluctant to talk about it and sick of people asking, why didn't you both come in separate cars? Then no-one'd be any the wiser."

"House."

"House?"

She grinned. "I wanted him to think what everyone else is. I wanted a reaction."

"Oh… good one. And did you get a reaction?"

"Wilson did."

"A good one?"

"A good enough one."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

"Fine. Be like that. Don't share."

"Foreman, I truly don't know. I would tell you if I did. What, you think I wouldn't love to tell you if House fell to his knees and started begging Wilson to stop going out with me because he was in love with me and wanted to father my children?"

Foreman raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you're right. You'd tell me if you knew."

"Exactly. But at the moment, I'm travelling blind. Just like I always am when it comes to House."


Inspecting herself critically in the bathroom mirror, Cameron sighed. She just couldn't get her hair to sit right. It was all sticking out on the left side. She growled at her reflection and yanked the clip out of her hair, frustratedly throwing it into the sink.

She wondered why she even cared. Why was she putting so much effort into her appearance? And for Wilson? He was just a friend, like he always had been. She was sure she was sure about that… but the prominent butterflies in her stomach told her otherwise.

Slowly blowing out a long breath, she closed her eyes. What was happening to her? Why was she thinking this way? It was so damn confusing! She hated this, she hated not knowing how she was feeling. She wasn't supposed to be feeling warm and fuzzy things towards anyone, bar House. Let alone Wilson. Wilson, his best friend. Pretty much his only friend. She felt like the world's biggest tart.

Behind her the door swung open and she gasped, startled. Cuddy entered, dressed in her tennis gear, and smiled.

"Doctor Cameron," she addressed her inferior. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"No, it's okay."

Cuddy put down her sports bag and moved up to the mirror next to Cameron. She eyed her closely. "You going out?"

"Yeah," Cameron answered, slightly embarrassed. "James… I mean, Wilson is taking me out to dinner. "

Cuddy raised an eyebrow. "James?"

"Yeah, well, you know, he's staying at my house, and he wanted to thank me for letting him stay and—"

Cuddy held up a hand. "Woah. Hey, you don't have to explain to me." She turned on the tap. "I'm only your boss."

Cameron smiled weakly as the hospital administrator splashed water onto her face.

"I didn't know you played tennis."

"Yeah, well, as you grow older you need to keep in shape somehow. Something you'll learn in time."

"What, running around after House isn't enough?"

"Unfortunately, no. So, twice a week I go to the club and play for a few hours."

"Oh. That's great." Cameron picked the clasp back up and tried to re-insert it in her hair.

"Yeah, well…" She watched Cameron struggle with her hair and smiled. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

"I don't know," Cameron admitted. "Something different, to… hold it up or something."

Cuddy studied her and motioned for the clip. "Here. I'll do it."

Cameron paused, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, one of my friends is a hair stylist. She taught me to do this stuff."

"Oh. Okay. Well, thanks."

She turned and bent awkwardly at the knees, patiently waiting until her boss was finished, gritting her teeth and ignoring the screaming pain in her calves and thighs. Whoever made up the statement 'no pain no gain' deserved to die a long and painful death… although they'd probably just gain from it.

Cuddy finally gave her hair one last pat and grunted in approval. "There. How's that? What you envisioned?"

Cameron focussed on her reflection in the mirror, inspecting it from every possible angle, and smiled. "Thanks. That's exactly what I wanted. You're good at this."

"Yeah, something to fall back on, huh? If I can't be the Dean of Medicine, why not a hairdresser?" She picked her bag back up. "This dinner with Wilson means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

Cameron frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, look at you, you look fantastic! Your hair and make-up are perfect, and, if I do say so myself, with more than a little jealousy, your body and dress are also perfect."

Reddening, Cameron looked into Cuddy's eyes. "It's just dinner. He's thanking me," she repeated.

Cuddy smiled mischievously, eyes sparkling. "Uh huh." Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she frowned. "And Cameron? Just a bit of advice. Don't go parading this around in front of House too much, okay?"

"Well, I wasn't planning to, but… why?"

"Clueless are the young," Cuddy muttered, shaking her head. "Anyway. Have fun tonight. God knows, you both deserve it." She smiled again and promptly left.

Cameron frowned after her. "Thanks…"