Chapter 19

House stood on the roof of the hospital, looking out over the city skyline. His eyes searched for something he could focus on, anything. His hands were still shaking; even gripping the ledge he couldn't make them stop. He was so angry, he couldn't even think. How could Wilson do this to him? And Cuddy? It was partly her fault he needed the damn pills to begin with. Hadn't he been through enough this past year? Stacy, being shot…what was next? He could feel tears forming in his eyes. He squeezed them shut, but it was too late. The cool, night breeze on the roof dried the silent tears that slid down his cheeks.

After a few minutes, he got control of himself and went back down to his office. Cuddy had left the agreement on his desk, as asked. She'd also left a note, asking him to please call her anytime if he needed help. House crumpled the note in his fist and tossed it in the trash, barely reading it. He picked up the agreement and stuffed it into his bag. He grabbed his Ipod and put it on. He turned the volume as loud as he could tolerate it, and left the hospital.

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Sitting at home on the couch, House had read the board's agreement five or six times. After two Vicodin and several beers, he was calmer and feeling better about the whole situation. He started to feel a little badly about shouting at Wilson. The agreement was more than fair. Even the part about the random drug testing seemed reasonable enough. Depending on the program he started, the board had agreed that they would monitor the levels of Vicodin in his system, as long as they were decreasing, he would be okay.

He wanted to call Wilson, but he was too proud. He knew he was wrong, and Wilson was right, but he would never admit that. He and Wilson had been friends a long time, and House was pretty sure Wilson would understand. The only problem he could see was getting enough Vicodin to get him through the next 90 days. The bottle he had once again had no refills available, and it was already half empty. Even if he cut down his dosage by half, he'd be out in a week, maybe less. Wilson wouldn't write him another prescription; he was going to have to find it some other way. As he was going over the possibilities in his mind, there was a knock at the door.

House got up to answer it; surprised that Wilson would come here today. He knew he'd hurt his friend, and figured he was in for a lonely week at least. Maybe it was Cuddy? She probably felt even guiltier about him than usual. House opened the door.

"Cameron?" House said. She stood at the door, holding a pizza in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.

"Take the pizza before I drop it," she said, thrusting the box at him, "it's burning my hand." House took the pizza and stared at her. She stared back.

"Are you going to let me in?" Cameron asked.

"What are you doing here?" House asked, stupidly.

"You invited me, remember?" Cameron asked. "Yesterday, when we left the circus, we were talking about British comedy, you were appalled when I said I didn't get it. You told me to come over here after work today and bring dinner and you would help me appreciate it." Cameron looked at him questioningly. "You don't remember any of this? You ranted for a good twenty minutes about some show called Blackadder?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "You nearly crashed your motorcycle when I said I'd never heard of it?"

House remembered. After the scene in Cuddy's office, the circus seemed like a month ago. He looked back into his apartment, unsure what to do next. Things were actually going well with Cameron; he didn't want to screw that up. He wasn't sure he wanted company tonight, but how could he tell her that now?

"House, are you okay?" Cameron asked with concern. "You look a little, off."

"I'm fine," House said, as he stepped aside to let Cameron in. "Sorry, I just got caught up in something, I must have lost track of the time. I'll get some plates." House took the pizza into the kitchen, and Cameron followed.

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House shooed her out of the kitchen, making a snide comment that he could manage to get plates and put pizza on them all by himself. Cameron took a beer for herself and one for House, and then put the rest in the refrigerator. She went back into the living room and sat on the couch. While House was in the kitchen frantically searching for at least one clean plate, Cameron looked around the room. She wasn't surprised by the huge collection of music and the enormous stereo system, although she was a bit taken aback by the piano. She didn't know he played.

She glanced down at the coffee table and saw the agreement with the hospital board of directors. She looked toward the kitchen, and seeing that House was still busy, picked it up and scanned it quickly. She was shocked, the board was forcing him into a drug rehab program? No wonder he'd forgotten she was coming over. She wondered if she should make some excuse and leave, but thought better of it. He would be suspicious, and she didn't want him to know she'd seen it. She dropped in back on the coffee table and made her way over to his music collection.

"What the hell is this?" House called from the kitchen.

"The pizza?" Cameron replied. "Well, I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just ordered what I normally get. I figured you wouldn't turn down free food."

House smirked in the other room. She wasn't wrong, but he eyed the pizza with a hint of trepidation. Mushrooms, peppers and what looked like goat cheese? Well, dinner was dinner.

Having finally found one clean plate for Cameron's pizza, and putting his own few slices on plate bearing what looked like pizza stains already, House came back into the living room. Cameron was standing by the shelves, looking at his CD collection. He quickly put the plates down, grabbed the agreement from the coffee table and tossed it on the desk. He looked back at Cameron, but she still had her back to him. He didn't think she'd seen it.

He hadn't noticed when she'd arrived, but she was dressed very casually, nothing like how she normally dressed for the hospital. She was wearing jeans, which hugged her body in the right places, and a low-cut, green top that make her eyes shine. House glanced at her appreciatively.

"For future reference, men prefer at least one meat product on their pizza," House remarked, sitting down on the couch. He held out Cameron's plate, and she took as she sat down next to him.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," she said. "Maybe the next time the man wants a pizza, he could buy it." She shot him a sidelong glance as she bit into her slice.

House didn't reply, but switched on the TV. He scrolled through the recordings on his DVR, and found a season of Blackadder. He turned it on and settled back in the couch. He glanced over at Cameron to see her licking a stray mushroom off her hand. He felt a flutter in his stomach watching her tongue wrestle with the mushroom, trying not to let it fall on the floor. Finally, she managed it, and glanced in his direction. She grinned sheepishly, and turned to the TV.

An hour later, Cameron was laughing out loud. She hadn't expected to really like this; it was just an excuse to spend time with House outside the hospital, but it was actually funny. She laughed again, and as she did she realized House was laughing too. She smiled; she wasn't sure she'd ever heard him laugh before. It was a good sound.

"Who is this guy?" she asked House.

"That's Hugh Laurie," House replied. "He's great in this. Next time you come over, we'll watch something else of his, maybe Jeeves & Wooster." House said, only realizing after he'd said it that he'd just invited Cameron again. He waited for her reaction.

"Is he as funny in that too?" Cameron asked. She'd noticed the implied invitation, but she was beginning to learn that with House, sometimes things were just better left unsaid.

"Absolutely." House replied. He took that to mean she would be coming over again. Wilson had been right; it would be good to have another friend. Besides, Wilson hated this stuff, no matter how many times House tried to get him to watch it.

When the show had ended, Cameron stood up and stretched. As she arched her back, he top lifted enough to give House a glimpse of her lower back and sides. His stomach fluttered again. He reached for his Vicodin, and realized he hadn't taken any since he came home from the hospital, which had been several hours ago. He returned the bottle to his pocket, unopened.

Cameron began collecting the empty beer bottles and dirty plates. As she tried to balance them all together, the bottles began to slip. She overcorrected, and nearly toppled over herself. House jumped up from the couch and caught her by the waist. The bottles fell to the floor, spilling the last of Cameron's beer, but neither of them noticed.

With only the plates between them, House and Cameron's eyes locked. Cameron felt a surge of electricity rip through her body. Her knees felt weak, and her heart was racing. House's strong hands gripped her waist, and the skin beneath them began to tingle. She tilted her head up to his, praying he would make the first move.

House stared deep into Cameron's eyes. He could feel the fluttering again, and this time not only in his stomach. He leaned into her a bit, until he could smell the fruity scent in her hair. He could feel his pulse quicken, and his breath began to come faster. He leaned in a bit further, until his lips were nearly touching hers. He saw her eyes close, and as he began to inch forward, he felt something cold on his chest. Then Cameron jumped back and swore.

"Damn!" she shouted. House looked and saw that she had pressed one of the plates into her blouse. Her neck and chest were covered with pizza sauce. House looked down and noticed his own shirt was also covered with pizza sauce.

"Damn," she said again, softer this time. "This blouse is new, too." She didn't look up at him, afraid he would see the disappointment in her eyes. Then she heard chuckling. She looked up to see House was laughing at her. She was angry for a split second, before she started laughing too.

"Sorry about your T-shirt," she said, when she noticed the sauce all over him. She laughed even harder. It released the tension in the air, and she was able to look at him.

"I'll get you something clean you can put on to go home," House said. He walked toward his bedroom, taking off his soiled shirt on the way. Cameron snuck a look before returning to the couch to clean up the mess she'd made.

In the bedroom, House paused to take a deep breath. That was intense. He felt nearly as good as if he'd taken the Vicodin. No time to think about that now, as he began rummaging through his drawers for two clean shirts. He put one on, and brought the other out to Cameron in the living room.

She'd cleaned up the mess on the floor, and was standing with a dishtowel trying to blot the pizza sauce off her top. House handed her the T-shirt and pointed toward the bathroom where she could change.

When she came out of the bathroom, her blouse in her hands and House's T-shirt swimming on her petite frame, House thought he'd never seen her look so good. She gathered up her purse and keys and looked at him.

"So, I think I better get home and soak this before it's completely ruined," she said lamely. She just wanted to go. She and House were actually beginning to get along, and she didn't want that to get screwed up by moving things to fast.

"Right," House replied. He wasn't really sure what to say next. He wanted her to come over again, but didn't know how to ask her.

"So, Jeeves & Wooster?" Cameron asked, letting him off the hook. She knew he wasn't comfortable with this, so she figured she'd give him a little help.

"Okay, Friday?" House asked. Cameron just nodded. She leaned in and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek before opening the door and walking out. House closed the door behind her, and then leaned back against it and let out a huge sigh. Maybe the next 90 days wouldn't be as terrible as he was afraid of. He took one Vicodin and swallowed it, then went to bed.