Chapter 18

House waited in his office. He'd paged Cameron, and it would only be a minute before she responded. He was fidgety, pacing, what the hell was wrong with him? I'm nervous, he thought. He shook his head and gave himself a smirk. Cameron entered the room behind him.

"House, you needed me?" Cameron asked. She couldn't imagine why, they had no patients now that Jota Reynolds was being transferred to oncology.

"Yup. Let's go." House grabbed his jacket and walked out of the office. He didn't look back, just hoped that Cameron would follow him.

"House? Go where?" Cameron followed, bewildered. House was pushing the button for the elevator.

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," House said mysteriously. He winked at her and stepped into the elevator. "You coming?"

Cameron hesitated for only a second, and then joined him in the elevator. He carefully avoided her gaze, so Cameron gave up and just stood quietly. The elevator doors opened and House began walking toward the exit. Cameron followed slightly behind him, still not sure what he was doing.

House began to put on his jacket, and then looked back at Cameron. He realized she wasn't wearing a jacket, and it would be chilly on the bike. He paused for her to catch up, and then placed the jacket around her shoulders.

"You'll need this," House said, letting his hands trail down her arms. He continued walking toward his motorcycle. He turned to see that Cameron had stopped. "Come on, I don't bite." He grinned. "Well, not unless you ask really nicely."

Cameron walked slowly to him; House held out his helmet and she put it on. She waited for him to climb onto the bike, and then she climbed on behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and squeezed her eyes shut as he took off.

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After they had been seated for a few minutes, House turned to look at Cameron. She was staring at him. In fact, she had been staring at him since they'd arrived.

"I feel a little overdressed," Cameron remarked. She glanced at the crowd around them. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised, the man was full of mystery, but this seemed like such an un-House place to be.

"I don't think anyone will notice," House replied. He munched on an extremely large soft pretzel and looked around. He hadn't been here in years, since before he was a teenager, certainly.

"And what is it we're doing here?" Cameron asked. "Are you telling me you just happened to have these tickets, and you and Wilson were planning a nice family outing?"

"Why not?" House asked, innocently. Cameron didn't look like she was buying it. "Okay, there's really only one act I'm interested in, but I figured the rest of it wouldn't kill me. Wilson was supposed to come with me but today he said something about getting a piece of a..uh," House caught the look on Cameron's face and stuttered, "furniture delivered."

Cameron still thought he was lying, but she had to give him credit, it was plausible at least. She just shook her head and looked around. She took a bite of the pretzel House had bought her and smiled. She hadn't been here in years, probably not since she was a teenager.

"So what was the one act you wanted to see?" Cameron asked House.

"You'll know it when you see it," House replied. Just then, the house lights dimmed and the stage lights came up full. House and Cameron both sat up a little straighter in their seats to make sure they didn't miss anything. As the music began, Cameron smiled again and turned to House to find he was smiling too. She looked away; she knew if she caught him smiling, he make some snarky comment and ruin everything. Better to just let him have some fun.

The show had nearly ended, and Cameron had to yet to anything she thought would lure House out into a crowd like this one. Of course, she loved the acrobats and elephants, and especially the horses. But, not even the Human Cannonball or the sword swallower had seemed to impress House.

As the final act was announced, Cameron smirked. This was what House had been waiting to see. She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye; he was grinning like a little boy, and he looked so adorable. He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes glued to the center ring. They watched as a large, round steel cage was lowered into the center of the ring, and four motorcyclists began to circle it. Cameron looked at House in disbelief.

"Are all those guys going to ride around in that steel cage?" Cameron asked.

"Yup." House answered. He tore his eyes away from the motorcycles to look at Cameron. Her eyes were dancing with anticipation, but House could see she was already gripping the arms of her seat and squirming a bit.

As the motorcyclists entered the steel cage, Cameron grabbed House's arm. She could barely stand to watch. How could they manage it without crashing? When the cyclists slowed down, she relaxed her grip on House's arm, only to tighten it again as she realized they had only stopped to allow an extra three riders to enter the cage! She looked at House stunned.

"No way!" She shouted. As the cyclists revved up their engines and began to ride, Cameron turned her head into House's shoulder, she couldn't watch. Of course she kept peeking, and then turning back and burying her head in House's shoulder again. When the engines finally stopped, and the crowd burst into cheering and applause, Cameron released House's arm and sat back in her own seat.

"You're such a girl," House snarked. Secretly, he'd enjoyed every minute of Cameron's head on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his own. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun. But, he didn't want to rush things. Friends first, he reminded himself.

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House had been a little afraid that things between he and Cameron would be weird at work after their trip to the circus, but so far everything seemed perfectly normal. They had no case at the moment, so she had gone to the lab to review tests and results for clinic patients. Foreman and Chase were arguing about a basketball game they'd both seen on TV the night before; House was watching General Hospital with coma guy.

Wilson walked into the small room and pulled up a chair. He waited patiently until a commercial break started, and then pounced.

"So, where were you last night?" Wilson asked.

House rolled his eyes. He'd hoped no one had seen him leaving with Cameron, but he suspected after lunch yesterday that Wilson was keeping an eye on him.

"I don't kiss and tell," House replied. He kept his eyes on the TV, hoping to discourage Wilson from asking any more questions.

"You kissed her?" Wilson asked, surprised. "Already, what happened to being friends first?"

"You're so gullible. If I kissed her, do you think I'd be in here with the vegetable watching soaps? We'd be in the janitor's closet, like any other horny couple trying not to get caught at work." House didn't want to talk about this. He hated talking about this stuff. What ever happened to actions speak louder than words, he wondered to himself.

"So, where did you take her?" Wilson asked.

"You're really not going to leave me alone about this, are you?" House asked, looking at his friend with pleading eyes. "Fine," House said, sighing and rolling his eyes. "We went to the circus. Okay? Elephants, acrobats, three rings, yada, yada, yada. Cool motorcyclists though. The crammed seven of them into a steel sphere. I thought Cameron might wet herself. She couldn't even watch."

"I'm glad you had a good time." Wilson said, relieved. He'd wanted House to get friendly with Cameron, but he was really afraid he'd blow it. "It'll be good for you to have another friend."

"Why, you going somewhere?" House asked, suspiciously. Wilson had been making comments like that for three or four days now, and House was wondering what it was leading up to.

"I'm not planning on it," Wilson replied. He got up to leave, but hesitated.

"What's going on?" House asked. "You lie worse than Cameron."

Wilson turned and faced his friend. He really didn't want to do this, but he knew that he had to. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

"You're right, but let's not do this here. Why don't we go and see Cuddy? She needs to talk to you too." Wilson wasn't stalling, but he needed backup.

"I know, she's been trying to get me into her office for a week. Lucky I don't need the cane anymore, I can finally outrun her," House quipped, but Wilson wasn't laughing.

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House didn't like the feeling in the room from the moment he sat in Cuddy's office. Something big was going on, and it was apparent from the glances Wilson and Cuddy kept sharing that they'd been together on whatever it was for quite some time.

"Greg," Cuddy started. "We're concerned about you."

"Greg, huh?" House replied. "I didn't realize we were on a first name basis, today, Lisa."

"House, give her break," Wilson said. House stared at him, then nodded. He knew what was coming.

"The board members are concerned about your Vicodin habit," Cuddy continued. "I'm sure you know that there are several board members who would be happy to see you unemployed today. But, most of the board recognizes your exceptional skills, and want to see you stay on as a productive member of the hospital staff."

"But?" House asked.

"But, they feel that now that your leg is no longer causing you pain, they can no longer turn a blind eye to your addiction. The board considered suspending your privileges here until such time as you could evidence that you'd overcome it." House opened his mouth, but Cuddy held up her hand to silence him. "Dr. Wilson and I argued strenuously that removing you from your job would be a most effective way of assuring that you would not overcome it. After several emergency meetings, Dr. Wilson and I were able to convince the board to postpone suspending you and to give you a chance to deal with it on your own terms."

House stood up and turned away from Wilson and Cuddy. He hadn't really expected that the hospital would allow a drug addict to treat patients, but somehow he'd hoped it would just go away. He began to shake, with anger and fear, and reached into his pocket for the bottle of pills. They were very nearly in his mouth when he realized what he was doing. Carefully, he put them back in the bottle.

"The board has agreed to a 90 day trial period, during which time you may choose any treatment program you feel comfortable with. The terms of this agreement include mandatory psychotherapy and random drug testing. At the end of the 90 days, as long as the board is assured that you are making progress, you will be able to continue with your chosen program. If they don't feel you've made enough progress, or aren't taking this seriously at the end of the 90 days, you will be suspended until you've completed a drug treatment program of their choice. You will only have one opportunity to complete their program; if unsuccessful, you will be fired." Cuddy waited for a reaction. She felt very badly about this. After all, she was the doctor who'd approved the surgery that had caused him the leg pain. It was her medical decision that caused him such pain, and ultimately led to his addiction. Now, to have to force him to overcome this in such a short time, she felt like she was letting him down again.

House turned to look at Wilson. He was sure Wilson had something do with this. It couldn't have just been the board.

"You agreed to this?" House asked him.

"House, it was this or you were out of a job, and so was I," Wilson answered.

"What do you mean?" House asked.

"I mean, the board has already placed a letter of warning in my file. If they find that I've written you a prescription for Vicodin to be filled here or at any pharmacy in the state of New Jersey, they will fire me without prejudice, and notify the state licensing committee that they recommend by license be revoked." Wilson had been put in a tough spot on this. He didn't like it, but he knew it was best for his friend.

"Right, can't lose your livelihood, you've got all that alimony to pay," House spat. He was shaking with rage. He couldn't believe his best friend, his only friend, would do this to him.

"That's not fair," Wilson replied. "I stuck my neck out for you on this. Half the board members weren't even aware I was the one writing you the prescriptions until I started arguing for them not to fire you on the spot! Now my job is on the line too. I didn't care. I did it because you're my friend, and this wasn't your choice. You should at least have the chance to handle it yourself." Wilson was shouting now. He was angry too, and afraid; afraid of losing his best friend, but more afraid of watching him fail.

"If you were my friend, you wouldn't care about what the board said. You'd write the prescriptions anyway." House glared at him. He was beginning to panic now. He couldn't lose his job, but how would he get by without the Vicodin? Random drug testing?

"I am your friend. That's why I won't write the prescriptions anymore. I can't force you to deal with this; I can't force you to save your job and save your life. But I don't have to help you throw it all away either." Wilson was visibly upset. "I'll help you in any way I can, Greg. You know that."

"Any way but the way that counts," House hissed. He turned his back on Wilson and faced Cuddy. "Send the agreement to my office, I'll read it and have it back on your desk first thing tomorrow." He stormed out and slammed the door behind him hard enough to knock a picture off Cuddy's wall.