Chapter 91
The rest of House's Tuesday turned out to be rather uneventful, as he made his way to various speakers, exhibits and poster sessions in the hotel conference area - Stan had to practically drag him along. He did however enjoy a poster session about Chagas disease, and a speaker session given by a Michigan State professor about emerging infectious diseases. While Stan went to check out a talk related to pediatric neurological infectious disorders, House wasted time going around to different posters and listened to their authors give over excited summaries about their abstracts. A majority let House know they would be attending his talk the following afternoon.
"Yeah, you and a hundred other people," he had grumbled.
He finally went out into the lobby in search of a place to sit to rest his aching leg. All of the standing and walking did not help. He was glad to find a bench by the corner next to the fountain in the entryway of the hotel.
His team needed assistance on their current case, so glad of something to distract himself with, House listened to his team throw out possible theories for their current female patient.
"Guillian Barre could explain the muscle aches, which could be from loss of tendon reflexes," Cameron spoke out.
"House, we're fine. We can handle this. Did you just call so you wouldn't have to go to the conference?" Foreman asked.
"Gullian doesn't explain the vomiting," House spoke into the phone, ignoring Foreman.
"And technically, I'm AT the conference just not listening to any of the boring power points," he added, annoyed. "How about campylobacter food poisoning?"
"I say vomiting and your mind jumps straight to food poisoning?" Cameron asked, intrigued.
"Paired with Barre, yeah."
"Wouldn't that have been ruled out in the ER?" Foreman chimed in.
Suddenly, two pagers went off. Cameron and Foreman glanced down at theirs while Chase looked on longingly.
"Get a spinal tap and do an EMG to confirm Guillian," House shouted.
"House, new symptom," Foreman interrupted, hurriedly. "Patient just coughed up blood. Gotta go."
And with that, they disconnected the call.
House swore under his breath as he slipped the phone back into his front pocket. Limping down the hallway, he stopped at a door and peered in, where a presentation on Meningitis was about to begin and thought it would not kill him to sit in for a little while.
Meanwhile in Princeton that evening, Katherine Cuddy parked her car on the street as she arrived at her and Matt's apartment after a long day of work at Princeton General.
As she let herself inside the foyer, she heard two voices wafting from what she assumed was the kitchen.
"Matt?" she called out as she kicked off her sneakers.
"In here."
Wandering into the kitchen, she saw Matt by the stove, stirring something in a huge pot with a wooden spoon.
"Hey, Kate," a voice said, coming from the other side of the kitchen.
Kate turned and saw a blonde haired man in his late 30 sitting at the island on a stool.
"Drew, hi!" Kate exclaimed. "How are you?" She and Matt's fellow co-worker embraced.
"I'm great. Timmy and I just stopped over for a few minutes to chat. He's in the other room watching television.
"They working you like a dog over at Princeton General or what?" Andrew joked.
"Seems like PPTH lets you guys go home early enough to cook dinner and everything," Kate retorted back with a grin. "I better have a word with the Dean of Medicine on this."
Matt scowled. "Stop picking on us and come over here. Try this."
As Kate walked over to the stove, Matt held out a wooden spoon with sauce on it.
"Tasting it, Kate's jaw dropped. "Oh my god. This is delicious. This is like the best Bolognese sauce I've ever tasted!"
"Oh now you're just brown nosing," Matt replied, but he was smiling.
"No!" Kate exclaimed. "I'm not. Drew, try this."
"Yeah," Drew said, when he had tasted the sauce. "She's right, Matt. This is actually really, really good."
Matt smirked. "I'm glad you two approve of my culinary skills."
While Matt was prepping dinner, Kate walked into the den, where a 9-year-old boy was sitting on the couch watching a re-run of Power Rangers.
"Hey Timmy. Whatcha doing?"
The boy turned toward her. "Hi, Ms. Kate! I'm watching Power Rangers." Timmy excitedly pointed at the screen.
Kate ruffled Timmy's hair as she said, "Power Rangers huh? Who's your favorite? I've always liked the pink one."
"Red!" he exclaimed. "He's the leader and he's got a sword!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah! he fights a lot."
"That's cool. You and your dad staying for dinner? Matt's making spaghetti.
"Dunno. I think my dad said no."
"Well let's go into the kitchen and try really hard to change his mind, okay?" Kate said.
As Timmy bounded off the couch to run into the kitchen, his dad came into the den.
"Dad, can we stay for dinner?! Pleaseeeeeee?"
Andrew chuckled. "If Matt and Kate don't mind, then sure."
As Drew and his son walked back into the kitchen, Kate excused herself and walked down the hallway and into the bedroom to freshen up. Throwing off her scrubs and tossing them in the hamper, she slipped a pair of black denim pants on before going into the bathroom to wash her face.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she sighed as she splashed cold water on her face.
It had been a tough day. She had responded to a call that was made by the neighbor of a guy who was beating his girlfriend.
When Kate and Tom, who she was on duty with, arrived about a quarter to eight that morning , it was bad.
The blood, the bruising. The girlfriend, who didn't look more than thirty years old, had a look of pure terror on her face. The boyfriend said it was a "lovers spat."
Somehow, Kate doubted that.
Kate never left the woman's side as the police showed up and arrested the boyfriend who screamed at the police, swearing he would never touch his girlfriend again.
Assessing the woman, Kate got her to lay down on a gurney. Looking down at her, she placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. "It's going to be okay now," she whispered, squeezing the woman's shoulder for reassurance.
Pulling herself out of her thoughts, the younger Cuddy sister heard the sound of a door closing.
"Hey, you coming out?" Matt asked, walking into the bedroom.
"Yeah, just cleaning up," Kate replied, grabbing a towel and drying her face.
Matt walked into the bathroom, coming up behind Kate, and placed his hands low on either sides of her hips. He leaned forward and kissed her shoulder blade, burying his face in her long, raven curls that were the exact spitting image of her sister's.
"Tough day?" he murmured into her skin.
"You have no idea," she responded. Turning around to face him directly, she placed her arms around his neck.
"Hi," she whispered.
"Hey," he replied, just as quietly. He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips.
"That sauce was really good."
"Thanks," Matt said, grinning. "I try."
Kate chuckled softly as she gave him a lingering once-over. "What am I doing with you?" she joked, as she caressed the nape of his neck.
"Keeping me around for the sex, most likely."
"And your handsome figure," she responded. "And charming personality."
"Wow, I actually think I'm blushing."
"But mostly for the sex, yeah," she responded, grinning. "So, how was your day?"
Matt traced his index finger along her blue bra strap. "It was alright. A guy came in wearing women's clothing telling us his penis seemed infected."
"No shit. Wow, so seems like it was an entertaining day at that."
Matt grinned. Leaning forward, he grazed his lips against her exposed skin on her collarbone and neck
"I missed you," he whispered, in between kisses, "You should just work at PPTH. Waterson already loves you."
"Your boss likes me because he sees how dedicated and smart my sister is and loves how she runs the place," Kate replied, pulling away from his grasp and walking into the bedroom to pull a shirt out of the closet. "And thinks I'll be the same way."
"Not true," Matt told her, as he followed her. "He likes you because you ARE smart and passionate and dedicated to what you do!" he told her firmly. "And you are, Kate. All of those things."
"Except going to medical school," Kate shot aggressively at him. "Yeah, I'm saving up money. Now it's looking to be a wasted goal at this point!"
"Don't say that," Matt replied quietly. "You WILL go. And don't let this one negative day affect your life choices you're about to make. It's not worth it. That's not the Katherine Cuddy I know."
Kate just stared at him blankly. After about fifteen seconds, she exhaled and sank onto the edge of the bed.
"You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you."
"It's okay," Matt replied softly. He took a seat beside her and placed his hand on her thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. "You've had a tough day...Look, think about coming to PPTH. Waterson would like that."
"And I'm sure Lisa would too," he added, smirking. "All I ask is that you think about it, okay?"
Kate grinned at him. "Okay."
Matt leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. "Thank you."
"Now let's go back out there and be social with Timmy and Drew." He stood up and offered Kate his hand.
Allison Cameron stared at the chart she was in the middle of completing. For the past half hour, she had been completing House's old discharge papers, mostly because he would never do then himself, even if he did have all the time in the world.
"Hey."
Cameron looked up from writing on a chart and was surprised to see Chase leaning against the door frame to the conference room. Her face broke into a smile.
"Hey yourself. I thought you were with the patient."
"Foreman's running tests now," Chase responded. He walked over to his co-worker and sat down next to her.
"When are you getting picked up?" she asked.
"Five or so. You still think it's Guillan Barre?"
"Could be that paired with something else, yeah. Food poisoning?"
"Do not tell me that you buy House's theory abut this being linked to something as simple as food poisoning?" Chase questioned.
Cameron shrugged. "Do you have a better theory? And House is usually right about his hunches. Tell me you have a better theory then we'll talk."
"Nope," Chase replied.
"Yeah, me either."
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"So, how are you?" Cameron finally asked quietly, unsure if she was overstepping.
Chase looked at her carefully. "I think...I'm okay," he said finally.
"It can't be easy."
Shooting her an intrigued look, Chase said shortly, "It's not."
"And stop giving me pity," he added.
"I'm not giving you any," Cameron replied, coolly. "And yeah, I do think House did you a 'solid' favor by having you back on the team, do don't screw it up."
"I never -"
"You were going to."
She sighed and reached over to lay her hand on his arm. "Chase," she said quietly, "You screwed up, but you already know you screwed up. I'm not about to browbeat that into you. I'm also not going to ask about your conversation with Cuddy last week. That's between you and her."
"Good." Chase stood and went behind his chair, resting his hands against the back of it. "You know," he started, "In prison, I've had a lot of time. To think."
"Chase -"
"No," Chase interrupted firmly. "You just said so yourself. That you're not going to tell me how I already screwed up. I already know it so save your breath please."
Cameron stayed silent.
"Am I grateful that House agreed to take me back on the team on work release? You bet your ass I am! But I also fucked up big time, Cameron. And I can't change that."
Just then, Foreman walked in.
"You'll never believe this...Actually, you can."
Cameron and Chase exchanged silent looks.
"House was right," Cameron guessed.
"Yep, you and House were both right" Foreman replied, throwing the file on the table. "Guillan Barre it is."
Cameron leaned back in her chair, throwing an amused look at her two colleagues.
"So, who wants to call House?"