I'm so glad you guys like the last chapter. At least, those of you who reviewed did. I'm rather proud of this one; some of my own lines make me giggle – which is ridiculous, but still. Anyway, I'd love to hear from you all! Thanks for sticking with me through all this. Have fun!
Wilson had never done anything that his best friend was apprehensive of. Though he would never admit it, he was very dependent on House's good opinion. He cared about what House thought, and made most of his decisions based on House's input. Because, even though he was not well known for being supportive and self-sacrificing, House really did care about what Wilson did with his life. The many scolding talks he'd had every time one of Wilson's marriages went down the toilet were solid testimony for that. So naturally, Wilson was slightly shaken when House had not met his idea of marriage with immediate congratulations. And now, as he sat in his friend's empty office, waiting for him to show up, he was seriously considering bolting. He could convince himself that he didn't need House's OK. He didn't even need House to be there. Yes. Maybe if he told himself that enough, it could come true. Unfortunately, just as he'd worked up the courage to leave the office, House came storming in, angrily throwing his cane to the floor.
"…House…"he said tentatively. House looked up, shocked to see Wilson sitting in his easy chair.
"Hi," he grumbled, stalking as best he could behind his desk, falling back into his chair. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"What's wrong with you?" House glared at him, but rubbed a tired hand over his face.
"Cameron just informed me that my presence at my mother's deathbed has been requested. Immediately." Wilson opened his mouth, but House cut him off. "I am not going. I don't care what you say."
"I know there's no convincing you, but-"
"Then why must you try?"
"Greg." Wilson's voice was stern, and the use of his first name told him to shut up. "Your mother is very sick. If I thought you'd appreciate it, I'd sugarcoat it, but she's not going to pull through this. This could be your last chance."
"I know," House said quietly. "I'm not ready to see my mother, or Mike."
"You do realize that by the time you are, it will be too late." House nodded slowly. "I just don't want you moping around for weeks when she does…you know…"
"Die? Jesus, Wilson. It's not a fucking swearword." He crossed his arms, and scowled into the middle distance. Then, as a thought hit him, he glanced up, fixing Wilson his a glare. "Why were you in my office?"
"No reason," Wilson replied hastily. House was not in the best of moods, and he'd started to rethink his request.
"Bull. You were waiting. You have something to say. So spill." Wilson kept his mouth resolutely shut, but between the softening of House's features and the mounting tension in his own mind, he finally let the words pour out of his mouth.
"There's going to be a wedding this weekend. I think you should go."
"Ha," House scoffed. "Do I really have to tell you: I don't do weddings."
"But it's not every day your best friend gets married." He's said the words quietly, hoping that maybe house would mishear them. House's eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed several times before any sound came out.
"So you really are getting…?" He waved his hands vaguely around in front of him.
"Married? Jesus, House. It's not a fucking swearword," he said with a smirk, perfectly mimicking his friend's words. "Yeah. I am. Nothing big. We actually just want you and Cameron to go down with us to the courthouse. Next Saturday." He was rambling, and he knew it, but the look House had trained on him was making him nervous. "Can you…say something?" he asked finally. House gritted his teeth, steepling his fingers in front of his face.
"What time?"
"What?"
"I said 'what time?'" he repeated agitatedly. "Generally good information to give the guests of your wedding."
"Right," Wilson said unsurely. "We'll start at around eleven thirty…if that'll work…for you." He was so shocked at House's reaction, that he was having trouble putting his thoughts together.
"Should be fine." House was sounding less annoyed, and he could even feel himself becoming somewhat happy for his friend and his boss. Though it still didn't seem right to him. On so many different levels. "Cameron is going to be so glad you guys are you doing this. She won't shut up about it until long after it's over, I'll bet." He rolled his eyes, but followed it with a slight smile. Wilson opened his mouth to ask about the Pregnant Cameron deal, but was interrupted by the shrill beeping of House's pager. House threw his head back in frustration as he unclipped it from his belt, and glared at the little screen.
"Huh," he said, an almost undistinguishable smile finding its way onto his lips. "I have to take this." Wilson watched him leave, shaking his head at his friend's behavior. There was only one person who could possibly capture his attention like that, and Wilson made a mental note to stay away from the clinic for an hour or so.
House stepped into the clinic minutes later and limped quickly towards the door of exam room three. He rapped his cane on the metal door in quick succession, attempting to appear as though it was merely a particularly bad runny nose that had called him down to the clinic. So naturally, he tried his best to hide the grin when Cameron opened the door, and ushered him inside. She made a point of pushing him away when she had the door closed so that she could lock it. As she turned to give him a pointed look, House ran his cane up and down the length of her lean leg, sneaking it under her skirt.
"Am I dreaming?" he asked huskily, watching as her eyes slipped closed.
"I don't know; I could pinch you."
"Now, now, Dr. Cameron," he said with a smile. Dropping his cane, he stepped closer to her, wrapping his long arms around her. "Violence is not the answer."
Cameron leaned into him, pushing his button-up shirt off his shoulders. "No, but sometimes it's the key to fun." She ran her tongue over his neck, biting gently on the stubbled skin. His groan vibrated against her cheek, and suddenly she found herself being lifted onto the examination table. House ran a rough hand over her shoulder, dragging it down over her breasts, stopping when he got to her thighs. His fingers expertly kneaded the delicate flesh, making Cameron moan softly. Usually when they made love, it was slow and gentle, both of them taking time to adore each other, savoring every touch, every sensation. But this time, this time was different. It was rushed and greedy, the two of them working together to satisfy the other's needs. House's leg protested, and, when he lay on top of Cameron, her chest pressed into his, both of them breathing heavily, he reached around into his pocket to find the little vial of pills. Cameron was smiling sleepily up at him as she ran her fingers through his hair.
"I told you it would happen some day," he said with a smirk.
"I never doubted you."
House lifted himself off her, reaching for his clothes. He thought about asking Cameron about her thoughts on the wedding, but decided that it had to wait. He wanted to be able to drown out her rapturous joy with The OC. He would wait until they got home to tell her. Now if he could only make it through the rest of the day without killing their patient or scaring one of the nurses into quitting, it would be the perfect day.
