Chapter 12

Wilson arrived as usual on Tuesday morning to pick House up for work. They always drove in together on Tuesdays, so they could drive back and watch The L-Word together. Wilson was just raising his hand to knock on the door when it was wrenched open and House stepped out. Wilson stared at him, aghast.

"You're ready," Wilson stated, amazed.

"And I tied my shoes all by myself. Are you proud?" House asked, as he stepped onto the sidewalk and walked toward Wilson's car.

"Very. Why are you ready so early?" Wilson asked, opening his door and getting in. House got in beside him and shut his door quietly.

"Couldn't sleep," House replied simply.

"Is it your leg?" Wilson asked, concerned.

"My leg is fine," House lied. Actually, his leg hurt like hll but he wasn't telling Wilson that. He wasn't telling anybody that.

"You're not telling me something," Wilson said, starting the car. He looked at House before pulling out into traffic. Wilson started to say something else, and House reached over and turned the radio on full volume. He looked at Wilson and then pointed to his ears, indicating he couldn't hear what Wilson was saying. Wilson just shook his head and held up one hand in surrender.

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Wilson and House entered the hospital together, and parted ways as Wilson headed for the stairs and House for the elevators. This was not lost on Wilson. Since the ketamine treatment, he knew House had been sleeping better. A sudden bout of insomnia coupled with his taking the elevator was all it took to arouse suspicion for Wilson. House's leg hurt.

Changing his mind, Wilson retreated back down the stairs and entered Cuddy's office instead. She looked up from her desk and smiled; pleased he stopped in to say good morning. The smile faded when she took note of his expression.

"What's wrong?" Cuddy asked.

"I think the treatment is wearing off," Wilson answered, sitting on her couch.

"Did he say something to you?" Cuddy asked, concerned.

"Not directly, but he was up early this morning because he couldn't sleep and he took the elevator this morning instead of the stairs," Wilson replied.

"James, I know you're worried about him, but that doesn't sound like much to go on. Don't jump to any conclusions. You'll only pss him off if he thinks you're prying," Cuddy warned, coming to sit beside him on the couch.

"I know, you're right," Wilson answered. He rubbed his hands across his face and smiled at her. "Meet me for lunch?"

"I can't, I have a meeting with some donors today. Dinner?"

"It's Tuesday," Wilson reminded her.

"Right, The L-Word. Well, how about breakfast tomorrow?" Cuddy asked.

Wilson glanced into the hall before leaning in close. "How about I stop by late and cook pancakes in the morning?" Cuddy leaned in too, kissing him on an especially sensitive spot she'd discovered just behind his left ear.

"I'll wait up," she breathed, and then left him on the couch to return to her desk and her paperwork. She glanced at him as he slowly stood to leave, admiring her handiwork. She thought keeping him in line might be easier than House thought.

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House dropped his bag on the chair in his office and went to make a pot of coffee. It was far too early for Foreman to be in, and he sincerely hoped that if Chase had come in early he'd had the good sense to stay away from the coffee maker. Seeing the lights in the conference room still off, House knew he was the first to arrive. He prepared a pot of coffee and stood impatiently waiting for it to brew. He never appreciated the fact that Cameron was usually an early riser and made great coffee more than when he had to make it himself and wait.

The pot finally finished brewing as Chase and Foreman entered together. They paused when they noticed House waiting for coffee to brew. Beyond the amazement at House being in before them, it meant Cameron wasn't in and House already knew about it.

"No Cameron today?" Chase asked. No matter how many times he got stung, he never hesitated in asking the obvious question.

"She's sitting right there, can't you see her?" House asked, feigning concern. Chase rolled his eyes and House gave him a withering look. "I gave Cameron the day off."

Foreman and Chase exchanged a look at that, and Chase was on the verge of asking another question, which would have undoubtedly been none of their business, but Foreman kicked his foot and shook his head. They both knew something was going on between Cameron and House, but as far as Foreman was concerned, the less information he had the better. Chase wasn't sure he felt the same way, but he definitely didn't want to step on House's toes so soon after his return, so he let it go.

"No patient today?" House asked the boys.

"Sorry, no inexplicable diseases today," Foreman replied.

"The nerve of people, not almost dying. How am I supposed to amuse myself?" House asked.

"You could work your clinic hours," a voice from the hall said, and House cringed.

"Cuddy, I thought we had a rule about you torturing me before I've had any coffee," House whined. Cuddy walked into the room and took the red mug from House's hands. She emptied the contents into one of the paper coffee cups and put a lid on top. She handed it back to House.

"Now you can take it with you," Cuddy said, her voice thick with false sincerity.

House grumbled, but walked out into the hall to go to the clinic. Cuddy nodded to the boys and followed behind House. Truthfully, House could have waited to sign in to the clinic, but after speaking to Wilson, Cuddy wanted to check out House's leg for herself. His limp was still barely noticeable, but the fact that he once again opted for the elevator did not escape Cuddy's attention. Maybe James was right?

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Cameron woke up and looked around, confused momentarily as to where she was. Grinning, she remembered she was in House's bed. She glanced at the alarm clock and was startled to see it was nearly noon. She'd slept most of the day away. Why hadn't House gotten her up? In fact, where was House? She got up from bed, and grabbed a t-shirt from the top of House's hamper. Slipping it over her head, she opened the door and walked down the hall to find the living room empty. After further inspection, she found the bathroom and kitchen empty as well. House had gone to work and left her here alone. He hadn't even left a note. Cameron wasn't sure whether to be annoyed he'd left without saying anything, or touched that he'd apparently given her the day off from work.

Cameron went back to the kitchen and began searching for something to eat that hadn't come from a take-out place. She was starving, and the only thing she found that wasn't complete junk food was a loaf of bread and some peanut butter. Shaking her head, she made herself two slices of peanut butter toast and a cup of coffee. Taking them to the living room, she settled on the couch and looked around. Eating her toast, she let her eyes roam. Besides the piano, the dominant feature of the room was the massive bookcases. One was filled with a staggering collection of CDs, records and tapes, the other with books and journals. Cameron knew House loved music, but his collection was truly a sight.

Remembering his confession of a few months ago, she let her curiosity get the better of her and began searching through his collection looking for a secret stash of country music. Having grown up in the mid-west, Cameron had listened to country music for most of her life. She found it amusing that a man who regularly quoted Mick Jagger didn't hate all country music. The collection was extremely well organized, something Cameron wouldn't have guessed from House's filing and charting at work. Quickly scanning what was in easy reach, Cameron decided he'd be hiding things on the top shelf. Dragging over the step stool, she found what she was looking for. Toby Keith, Johnny Cash, Sugarland, Chris Ledoux, Hank Williams, Big N Rich.

A knock at the door startled Cameron so that she nearly fell off the stool. She steadied herself, and looked at the door, unsure of what to do. She didn't really feel like she should answer House's door, but what if it was important? And who was here in the middle of the day expecting him to be home? The knock came again, louder this time and longer. Cameron sighed. Forgetting that she was wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, she stepped down from the stool and opened the door to see a pretty, young, brunette standing before her.

"Hi, honey. I'm looking for Greg," the woman said.

"Uh, he's at work. I can give him a message if you'd like," Cameron responded. She was really curious as to who this woman was who felt free stop by House's place and called him Greg. She hadn't even called him Greg, not even last night.

"No, I see he's found a replacement. It's too bad really; he was a nice one. Well, he was nice to me anyways. He must really like you honey, with me it was just here's your money and out the door as soon as we were through," the woman said conversationally. Cameron was shocked, as she realized who this woman was. She couldn't let her get away without getting some more information.

"So you're Paula?" she asked, trying to sound normal.

"Yeah, he mentioned me?" Paula asked, sounding flattered.

"Sort of. I'm not stealing away a regular thing here, am I?" Cameron asked, as calmly as possible.

"No, honey, you're not. It's fine; he hasn't seen me in a while. He called me a month ago, but not for that, he needed some drugs or something? And he couldn't get them, you know. So I tried to get them for him, but the doctor at the hospital knew I was faking and I couldn't get them after all. He wasn't mad, was he?" she asked.

"No, he wasn't mad. He's fine now. Listen, I have to get out of here…" Cameron just let her voice trail off.

"Oh, sure, I know how it is. You be careful," Paula told her, turning and walking off.

"I think Greg better be careful," Cameron muttered to herself, shutting the door softly.

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For the third time since lunch, House picked up the phone and dialed his home telephone number. It rang several times before the answering machine picked up.

"Cameron, are you still sleeping? Cameron?" House said. Frustrated, House dialed Cameron's cell phone, which rang three times before switching to voice mail. He hung up without leaving a message. Finally, he called her home phone and again, got the machine. He hung up, as he'd already left her a message at home. He looked at his watch; it was now almost three o'clock. Either she'd slept fifteen straight hours or she was avoiding him. He closed his eyes. This must be a new record, he thought to himself, we haven't even been together an entire day and I'm already in trouble.