Cameron took a file when she got to the clinic, so that she would be able to snag an exam room. She glanced over the file, and, rolling her eyes, went into exam room two. A squat little man sat on the table, swinging his legs. There was barely enough hair on his head to distinguish an actual color, but Cameron decided that it looked brownish. His legs stilled as he glanced nervously up at Cameron.
"My throat hurts," he croaked at her. Cameron studied the chart again.
"And that's your only symptom?" The man nodded up at her. "Well...I'm willing to put my money on 'sore throat.' How 'bout you?" Cameron scribbled something down on her prescription pad, shocked at how House-like she sounded. "Take this and stop whining." She ripped the page off and handed it to him, again surprised at her inner-House coming out. The man slid off the table, clutching the paper, and waddled from the room. Cameron shut the door behind him and went to sit in the chair against the wall. It didn't take long for the familiar hollow knocking to start. He knocked three times, before he entered on his own. House smiled mischievously as the door clicked shit behind him.
"How long do we have?" Cameron said, already on her feet.
"They're looking for more cases. I'd say about fifteen minutes." He leaned his cane against the counter, but it fell to the floor in his hurry across the room towards her. His hands went straight to her waist, pulling her close against him. Their lips fought for control. Cameron slipped her fingers under his jacket, dragging her fingernails over his sides to his back. Even through the thin fabric of his shirt, she could feel the goose bumps. His mouth moved along her jaw, his tongue dancing over her soft skin.
"You locked the door?" Cameron gasped. House's hand had gotten past the buttons of her pants and was making its way south. House's lack of response unnerved her. "House." He stopped his exploration and glared at her.
"Yes. It's locked. I promise." His voice was edgy, suggesting that she quit ruining the mood and just go with it. Cameron wasn't sure if she believed him, but she soon gave in to his strong hands. She couldn't help remembering the last time he had sworn that the door was locked. Luckily, it was only Wilson who had walked in on them. House pushed her against the wall, becoming more aggressive to make up for her hesitance. His hands moved under her shirt, tickling her skin. Cameron pressed against House, pushing her thigh into his groin. He moaned against her mouth, but stopped, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He glanced around the room frantically before he tugged on her arm, leading her over to the table. "Up," he grunted. Cameron obeyed, using the brief moment of no contact to lift her shirt over her head. She had just moved to do the same to House's faded band t-shirt when a light knocking came from the door. Cameron's eyes shot from the door to House, the fear evident on her face.
"It's locked," House said dismissively. Cameron relaxed as his lips caressed her neck, when out of the corner of her eye she saw the door handle turn.
"I don't think it is," she managed. House turned to see Cuddy staring at them. She got over her shock soon enough, and replaced it with a smirk.
"Oh, seriously. Can't you two keep your hands off each other for ten minutes?" She lifted an eyebrow at them suggestively. Behind her, patients and doctors were peering into the room to get a glimpse of House and Doctor Cameron making out. House wrapped his arms around the shirtless Cameron, protecting her from the nosy people outside the room.
"Cuddy, I have told you a thousand times: I am not into threesomes," House snapped. Cuddy's smile grew wider, as she ran a hand over her stomach.
"Doctor House, you have someone in your office waiting to see you." She winked at Cameron, who had gone bright red, and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. Cameron's embarrassment receded, and the frustration and mild anger set in.
"You're such an idiot!" she said loudly, smacking his arm. House narrowed his eyes, his hand sneaking around behind her to grab her ass.
"You didn't think so a few minutes ago." He leaned in for one more kiss, and then grabbed her shirt from behind her. Dangling it in front of her, he said, "One of these days I'm gonna get all the way with you in here." Straightening his jacket, Cameron moved so that her mouth was right next to his ear, so that he was sure to hear what she said next.
"In your dreams."
House had left Cameron in the exam room to get herself organized. He sat in the elevator, thinking through all of the possibilities of who could be in his office. His brilliant conclusion was that it was yet another patient who had suffered 'severe mental distress' because of him. Luckily, Cuddy was on his side, managing to get out of those particular situations without any legal problems. But as his office came into view, House knew that Cuddy would not be needed. There, sitting behind his desk tossing his tennis ball in the air, was his younger sister, Emily.
He had figured that eventually she would get sick of the unreturned calls and talk to him face to face. But as he gently opened the door, he was silently scolding himself for not being able to answer the phone when she called. Whatever she had to say would definitely be easier to hear on the phone. Emily set the ball back on his desk and folded her hands in her lap, glaring at him. It was House's glare; the one that had taken him so long to perfect so that it would convey the proper effect. And here was Emily, pulling it off as effortlessly as she would a smile.
"Greg," she said. Her voice was full of frustration and anger as well as admiration in just that one word.
"Hey, Em," House replied. He tapped his cane on the floor, uncomfortable under her gaze. Even though she had formally forgiven him for what he had done in her childhood, House still worried that she would revoke the forgiveness. He was always awkward and quiet around her in the first few minutes of being together, but she'd eventually get him to loosen up.
"Phone broken?" she asked icily.
"No."
"Been away?"
"No."
"Then you better have one hell of an excuse, Greg." House lifted his eyes to meet Emily's; cringing at the look she was holding on him. Plenty of excuses ran through his head, most of them ridiculous. And in the course of their reacquaintance, Emily had learned how to read House. She had gotten almost as good at it as Wilson.
"I…" He racked his brain for anything she might believe. Her eyebrows raised in anticipation for what was sure to be an interesting explanation. "I…uh…I am leading a crazy double-life…?" he tried. As soon as the words had left his lips, he knew he had no chance. Emily's eyes narrowed, the familiar crystal blue eyes unimpressed. "Em…OK. What's wrong?"
"Oh, so now that I'm here, you want to know what's wrong." Her voice shook with threatening tears. All of his usual sarcasm blew out of him like air from a balloon. Something was wrong. He may have been out of her life for over ten years, but he had also learned to read her.
"Em." House moved closer to take her in his arms. She hesitated, afraid to relax under his touch. He waited a few moments for her sobs to subside before asking again. "Em. What's wrong?" She took in a shaky breath.
"It's Mom." House's breath slowed, his heart racing. Their mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after Emily regained her memory. She had been undergoing treatment but with no change. "She's refusing further treatment…She…" Emily sniffed. "She wants to go home and die." House absorbed what it was she was saying, trying to work it through his mind. "She says it's time." House's grip on his sister tightened as he fought against tears. Even after House had learned about his mother's health, he had never gone to see her. His stepfather, Mike, would call every so often, telling him how sick his mother was. Mike had always been good at guilting House, but visiting his mother was not something he would do willingly. He had gotten good at repressing the guilt.
"It's her decision," House choked out. "Emily pushed away from him.
"What?" she hissed. "She's killing herself, Greg. Doesn't that bother you?"
"She's really sick, Em." Emily stalked across the room, scooping up her bag from the easy chair.
"Sometimes I just don't get you, Greg." She glared at him before throwing open the door and storming from the room. Cameron stopped at the door, staring after Emily. Cameron closed her eyes, and entered the room. He took so much patience. He was going to drive her insane.
"What did you do now?"
