Chapter 24

House banged on the hotel room door. He bounced on the balls of his feet, anxious for it to open. The door swung open. Addison Montgomery stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. House's eyes swept over her and the silk pajamas she was wearing. His eyebrows up, he said, "Addison, if I had known you were already dressed and ready for me, I would have brought some Jack Daniels and candles—you know, to set the perfect mood."

Addison grinned. Stepping back to let him in, she replied, "Strange as it is, I have actually missed you, Greg."

House glanced over her body again, retorting, "And I missed those legs. How tall are you again?"

"Too tall for you," Wilson countered as he came out of the bathroom. "Last time I checked, you liked short brunettes with the weight of the world on their shoulders."

House twirled his cane. "You should try it sometime. Brooding girls are amazing in the sack."

Addison and Wilson winced at the thought. "Is there a reason you're here, House?"

Without saying a word, House hitched his head to motion Wilson to follow him out of the room. "I'll be back," Wilson whispered in Addison's ear. He kissed her temple lightly and left.

They headed for the elevators as House informed Wilson of George's collapse. Stepping in, House pressed the button for fifth floor where the bar was. "An intern in the hospital—it's an ironic and sad tale, but not the reason why you pulled me out of my hotel room at midnight."

"Is it too out of character for me to care about another person?" House asked, his hand on his chest.

Wilson's face registered incredulity. "The only people you give a damn about are little old ladies with syphilis, diagnostics patients, and schizophrenics."

House rolled his eyes. "You always focus on the details." They grew silent, waiting for the drinks they had just ordered in the bar. Diverting the conversation, he asked, "So…Addison's in your hotel room?"

Wilson's lips pursed in thought as House had often seen them do. "She's coming back with us, House."

House tapped his cane on the side of the bar. He had expected something like this to happen after he had heard about the Shepherds' divorce. Wilson kept talking. "We haven't done anything yet. We want to be friends before something else happens. I've called Cuddy. She's already given Ad a job."

His friend hoped that he was doing the right thing. House said, "Just don't screw this one up, Jimmy-boy. I know I can't live with you again."

"Thank you," Wilson told the bartender as he handed him a glass of whiskey. "You still haven't told me why I'm here. Did you just miss me?"

House chuckled softly. His smile was so unaffected and honest when he was with his best friend. Secretly he hoped that their new-found relationships would not ruin their friendship. "She kissed me."

Wilson's eyes almost fell out of his head. "Allison Cameron kissed you?"

House squinted as his eyes slid towards Wilson. "Don't sound too shocked. Some women actually find me more appealing than they do you."

Wilson scoffed, "I'd like you to find the evidence supporting that theory, but that's not what I meant. Cameron's wanted to do a hell of a lot more than kissing for a long time."

House sighed, "Then what, pray tell, my wise and patient Buddha, did you mean?"

His friend took a sip of his drink. "I meant that I was surprised you let her kiss you."

"Oh," he replied quietly. "I sort of made her."

Wilson's eyes went wide again. His mouth opened to speak and then shut. He repeated that process three times before House relieved him of the trouble. House said, "And now she's launched the ball back in my court. I've sent us all to Hell."

He knew what House was doing. The man was asking for advice without actually saying so. House was the master and he was going to get his way this time as well. Wilson finished his whiskey and said, "The first step is to finally admit that you like her."

House closed his eyes, willing the world to go away. He did not want to want Cameron. He did not want to hurt her. But he knew the first had already arrived and the second was inevitable. Quietly, he said on a long breath, "I like her."

"Then maybe you should tell her that," Wilson replied.

………………………………

The next morning, Izzie and Meredith were sitting next to the still-unconscious George. Izzie pushed back messy strands of her blonde hair. She looked like a wreck. Isobel Stevens felt like a wreck too. George O' Malley was the best friend she had ever had. Men tended to ogle her, but not George. To him, she was a life raft, and he was hers. A memory popped into her head from a year ago, from before she met Denny.

They were alone in the kitchen. Meredith was yet again traipsing drunkenly with another no-name from the bar. George yawned widely, vainly rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. It was quite late and they had had another long two days at the hospital. George walked over to the table and softly patted the back of Izzie's head, which was lying on the table.

Izzie was still reeling from Alex Karev. She had just started to open up to the man and he cheated with Olivia. "Maybe I should just become a lesbian, George," she moaned.

George sat down on the other side of the table. "Well, if you do, wait 'til I'm there to watch," he retorted perkily.

They both laughed freely. "Why can't all men be like you, George?"

"I ask God that every day," he replied. George looked over at his friend. Black circles darkened her eyes while her hair hung over face. He knew she was tired and hurt. Izzie was beautiful, but he had never wanted her as anything but a friend. She desired nothing but friendship either. George wanted to make everything better for her, so he said, "If he didn't see how great you are, Izzie, he's not worth having."

She lifted her head up and smiled. They were both aching from love. "Let's go to bed, George." They trudged upstairs, their bodies limp and soar from mental and physical fatigue.

"Are you going to let me sleep alone tonight?" George whined, but secretly hoped that she would lie next to him. He needed the warmth of someone else, of his dearest friend.

"Not a chance," Izzie mumbled slyly as she brushed her teeth, seeing through his ruse. They padded across the hall into George's room. It smelled of Old Spice and oddly enough strawberries, but it was a safe world that they both craved. Both George and Izzie felt like scared kids lost in the world's largest mall, but neither would ever admit it. Love, work, growing up frightened the hell out of them.

George pulled back the covers and tossed himself onto the bed and shut off the light. Izzie wiggled with glee as she often did and hopped into bed with him. Wrapping his arm around her, Izzie snuggled against his chest. Her eyes batted shut as she sighed, "I love you, George."

George smiled in the dark, pulling her closer. "I love you too, Izzie."

For the moment, everything was perfect.

But now was torture. Izzie held George's hand tightly, rambling, "I don't understand what's going on. Some of the best doctors in the country are treating him and filling him full of drugs, but it's been twenty-four hours and he's getting worse instead of better."

"He's going to be fine, Izzie. They'll take care of him," Meredith reassured her, but deep down her world was slipping out of control. She wanted to be in her hospital; she wanted to be working. But this was LA and she couldn't do anything.

"You don't know that, Meredith," Izzie snapped. "You don't really know anything, do you? You're in love with a man who treats you like trash when the one lying here has been dying for you to just notice him the past two years. So until you grow a brain, don't talk to me about what you think."

Before Meredith could answer, Marty Hamilton, Burke, and Derrick Shepherd walked into the room. Meredith and Izzie jumped from their seats. "We've ran some more tests," Hamilton told them. He explained what they thought it was. "I'm sorry, but George probably won't last through the week."

Izzie wanted to slap the condescending, kind look off of Marty Hamilton's face. "You're telling me that George is going to die and none of you are going to do anything about it?" she asked, her blood boiling in her veins. She could feel the sweat trickling down the back of her neck.

Burke stepped forward. He liked Isobel Stevens. Somehow she was strong yet fragile, kind but still forceful. She had the chance to become a great doctor. In Preston Burke's eyes, she was already a wonderful woman. "Stevens, we're doing everything we can. I'm not going to just let O'Malley die."

Izzie saw the conviction in Burke's dark eyes. After George had saved that heart patient in the elevator, they had become close friends. Burke wanted to save him as much as Izzie did, but she wanted more. Izzie's eyes were steely and her jaw was set. "That's not good enough," she said firmly and barged out of the room.

…………………………

House ran through the symptoms of mental illness in his mind. I must be going crazy, he thought as he paced outside of Cameron's hotel room late that morning. He envisioned her in there, taking a shower, sleeping on her soft bed. His mind spun into meltdown at the fantasies those thoughts created. She wanted him to take the initiative, so maybe he should. Maybe he should just knock on the door and Allison Cameron would answer it wearing her cutest teddy and she would pull him inside, kissing him stupid until…

"House?"

He turned to see Cameron standing at her threshold staring at him. Her eyebrow was hitched up in skepticism. House cleared his throat. "Wilson said that I should talk to you."

Cameron's brow hitched even farther. "And when did you start actually listening to Wilson?" she asked.

House bent his head down and chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I haven't really. That's why I was still out here."

She smiled back at him. "Are we about to start another game of tag?" Her tummy rumbled with the hope that they were.

Scratching his chin, he replied, "No." Cameron's face dropped. House scrunched his face in frustration. Damn, I'm bad at this, he thought. He hated to admit that Cameron had always made him nervous. Wilson had told him to tell her that he liked her. He wasn't sure why he was taking advice from a man that had been married and divorced three times, but he still had a better track record than House. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I need to tell you something."

Cameron's nerves screamed inside of her. She knew that he was breaking things off before they got too close. She was pretty sure she was going to claw his eyes out if he did it to her again. "What is it?" she asked cautiously.

His blue eyes impaled her. He said, "I—"

"Dr. House!" Izzie shouted from down the hall. She ran towards them.

"Could you please come back when I'm less irritated?" House asked her as she came up to stand next to them.

Her eyes trained on his. "I wasn't planning to go trailer park this trip but his has become a necessity. George is going to die and they aren't going to stop it."

House shook his head. "What do you want from me?"

She stepped menacingly closer. "You're the best damn diagnostician in the nation. Your team is here."

He spun his cane in his hand. "I don't have amnesia. I already knew all that. But how did you? Did you Google me?" he teased, his eyes squinting.

Izzie was done. Her voice slithered calmly as she said, "You make silly, clever comments in order to prevent anyone from liking you. You don't want to get hurt? Fine. Stay the hell away from people. But if you don't help George, I will cripple your other leg."

House glanced over at Cameron. "For fear of injury, I do believe we have another case."

TBC