Chapter 21

When they arrived outside Quig's office, Cameron clenched; she couldn't help it. She'd asked House to let her in, but this was incredible, especially since they'd yet to discuss his appointment with Dr. Jessup. Cameron felt tears welling up in her eyes when a voice, her inner-House she called it, piped up. Cameron, her inner-House always called her that, never Allison, do you really think I'd bring you to my shrink's office and let the two of you poke at me?

"What are you up to?" Cameron asked him.

"Who me?" House replied acting the innocent as only the guilty can.

House opened the door and entered, robbing Cameron of her chance to reply. She considered not following him but once again, he was too quick. House stepped backward and took her by the arm to lead her inside.

If Quig was surprised, he didn't show it. In the years he'd practiced as a psychiatrist, House was certainly in the top ten of his most entertaining patients; he was also in the top ten of most challenging and least predictable. Quig genuinely liked him, a feat most people didn't manage.

"How's the wife?" House asked conversationally, as though there was nothing unusual about Cameron attending their session.

"Not deaf," Quig answered.

"Miss me?" House asked, now seated in one of the brown leather chairs.

"Every minute of every day," Quig replied. They started a good majority of their sessions this way. It was House's way of saying hello. "Did I schedule Show and Tell today?"

Cameron was taken aback. What kind of thing was that for a psychiatrist to say? She looked at House for a reaction and got nothing but a grin.

"You must be Dr. Cameron," Quig said, walking around the desk and offering Cameron his hand. Cameron took it and Quig placed his other hand on her back and led her to the chair next to House. Cameron sat. Quig pulled one of his regular office chairs over and sat across the table from them. "I'm Dr. Quigley. You can call me Quig. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of PPTH's favorite couple?"

House snorted. Cameron looked between them, uncertain what to make of this man. She knew House liked and respected him, so that counted for something. Actually, House probably liked him because he wasn't conventional. Surely House would never have survived therapy this long with your run of the mill psychiatrist.

"Cameron and I…" House began. Quig cleared his throat. "Right, Allison and I seem to be having some trouble communicating." Cameron turned her head slowly and looked at House. House looked back, amused. "Specifically, it seems that Allison is having a hard time differentiating between a joke and an insult."

"Are you kidding me?" Cameron hissed at House. She shot Quig a quick look. "Practically everything that comes out of his mouth is an insult. Is it any wonder I have a hard time telling the difference?"

"Cameron, ugh, Allison, you can't take everything I say so seriously. At least sixty percent of the stuff coming out of my mouth is crap," House said.

"Well maybe you should have gotten me a pair of hip-waders instead of an engagement ring," Cameron retorted. "What is this all about? You're trying to figure something out, why don't you just ask me and save us both a lot of trouble!"

"What the hell did I say that got you so upset last night?" House finally barked at her.

"It's not what you said, Greg, it's the way you said it. You make everything into a joke or a way to mock someone's insecurities or a puzzle. Everything you say to me, I'm constantly trying to figure out the hidden meaning behind it," Cameron told him.

"Well why don't you just ask?" House growled. "Argh! Cameron, you're so frustrating sometimes."

"I'm frustrating? I'm frustrating. Do you have any idea how hard you are to talk to? Why don't I just ask? Like you'd tell me if I did!" Cameron shouted.

Quig had been sitting quietly, watching this exchange. House and Cameron, for their parts, seemed to have mostly forgotten he was there. He could have let them argue it out, but that wasn't going to help them in the long run.

"Okay let's take a breather," Quig said. House and Cameron both turned to him in surprise. Cameron blushed immediately, embarrassed that she'd argued with House in front of his therapist. House, on the other hand, seemed relieved.

"Fighting like cats and dogs, check," Quig said. House laughed. Cameron crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. Quig took a deep breath; it had been quite some time since he'd done couples counseling and these two were quite the pair.

"So far what I've got is House is impossible and Allison is frustrating," Quig said. House muttered something under his breath, but it was too low for Cameron and Quig to make out.

"He's too cryptic. He never just says what he's really thinking. It's practically impossible to know what's going on inside that horror he calls a mind," Cameron lamented.

"Tell me about it," Quig commiserated. "I get paid to do this and I still have trouble getting him to talk."

"And even when he does talk, you can't always be sure what he means. I feel like I need my secret decoder ring," Cameron sighed.

"Or a House-English dictionary," Quig suggested.

"Hello!" House interjected. "Still in the room. I left my cripple-bashing shield at home."

Cameron and Quig just exchanged looks. Quig shrugged and Cameron shrugged back. Suddenly, she liked this guy, a lot. She hoped he could help them work some things out.

"I'd like for the two of you to try a little experiment for me," Quig said. Cameron became instantly attentive while House groaned. Therapy homework? "When there's something on your mind, something you want to talk about, what do you usually do?"

"Avoid it like the plague," Cameron said.

"Like the clap," House interjected. "I love a plague."

"Got it," Quig said quickly. "Here's what I'd like you to do for the next month. Once a week, no more than that, I want the two of you to go someplace other than the hospital or your apartments. Someplace quiet, maybe a park. I don't want you to look at each other, sit back to back if you have to. Then I want each of you to ask the other one question, about a subject you normally wouldn't talk about. And I want you each to give an honest answer. Follow up questions are allowed, but your turn should definitely not last longer than an hour. When you're done, I want you to go home separately so you can think over what the other has said."

"And what exactly is the point of this?" House asked skeptically.

"By assigning a time once a week, you know you'll get your chance to ask. You know you'll be limited to one topic, so you don't have to worry about getting bogged down in some emotional quagmire. I'm sure you can see why the not looking at each other is helpful. Think of it like a confessional at church," Quig explained. Both Cameron and House looked at him blankly. "Heathens," Quig muttered. "Think of it like pouring your soul out to a bartender. Anonymity."

Cameron and House nodded. This would be interesting, if nothing else.