Chapter 9

Cameron waited patiently all weekend to hear from House. By Monday morning, she was a wreck. She had barely slept Sunday night at all, now incredible anxious that Wilson had been wrong and House really was regretting his decision to propose.

When she arrived at work on Monday, she eagerly checked her desk and the rest of her office, her email and her regular mail for some message from House, only to be disappointed. Forcing herself not to overreact, she resolutely began plugging away at the mountain of paperwork slowly building on her desk. One thing this job had given her was an appreciation of just how hard Cuddy worked. Cameron really couldn't imagine how she had managed all of this and put up with House for all these years.

Cameron consulted on two or three immunology cases, and worked two hours in the clinic treating easily a dozen patients with colds and flu. When five o'clock came and she'd still not hear from House, Cameron shut down her computer and went home.

By Tuesday morning, Cameron was insufferable. Cuddy briefly considered sending her home, but rejected the idea when Cameron began attacking the stacks of backlogged charts that had been discovered in pediatrics. Productivity outweighed her compassion.

House lay inside the MRI and fought the urge to fidget. He'd sent hundreds, no thousands of patients for this test in his career, and been through it himself on more than one occasion, but he still hated it. It reminded him much too vividly of being forced to sleep in closets and tool sheds as punishments when he was a boy. For the past few years Wilson had performed this test for him; Wilson knew House hated the MRI and always managed to keep the mood light. House was really missing that this time.

"Just a few more minutes, Dr. House," a pleasant but anonymous voice announced.

"That's what you said a few minutes ago," House muttered.

Once the test was complete, House redressed, thankful as ever to be out of those awful gowns, and walked to Dr. Jessup's office. He checked his watch, 9:56. At least he wouldn't have long to wait.

"Judy," House addressed the receptionist. "Could you please page Dr. Cameron in the administration office and ask her to come here for a consult?"

"Dr. Jessup didn't request any consulting physicians for your appointment, Dr. House," Judy replied, confused.

"I want the consult," House explained as patiently as possible. "I need someone to explain all the big doctory words to me." Judy frowned, but did as she was asked.

Cameron scowled at her pager. Why would Dr. Jessup be calling her for a consult? He was a surgeon, and as far as she knew none of her immunology patients were having surgery for anything. Certain it was a mistake, but not wanting to make waves, Cameron reluctantly abandoned her dwindling pile of charting distractions and made her way to Dr. Jessup's office.

"Dr. Cameron, they're waiting for you inside, go ahead in," the receptionist told her when she arrived.

"Do you have any idea why Dr. Jessup paged me for a consult?" Cameron asked her.

"Oh it wasn't Dr. Jessup, it was the patient," the receptionist told her.

Cameron nodded. One of her immunology patients must be having surgery for something she wasn't aware of and wanted an opinion. Cameron straightened her lab coat and opened the office door.

"Dr. Jessup?" she asked.

Dr. Jessup waved for her to come in and have a seat with one hand while holding the phone to his ear with the other. Cameron stepped fully into the room and was aghast when the patient seated across from Dr. Jessup turned to face her.

"House?"