A/N: I apologize for the ridiculously long amount of time it took to update. My computer wouldn't let me upload anything for a long time.
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Cameron hated boxes. Really hated them. Especially when she had to pack all of her belongings into them, tape them up, and make sure nothing would break on the long trip back to Princeton. It didn't help her mood one bit that her apartment was stacked floor to ceiling with the offending boxes. It really didn't help that she had no furniture left except her ratty old couch, which she had decided to replace after she moved rather than bring with her.
Moving definitely wasn't her thing, she decided. She sat down on the couch and grabbed an old issue of Cosmo. She'd found it buried in a pile of medical journals in the kitchen. The journals, she'd tossed. The Cosmo, she kept. She smiled to herself as she thumbed through the pages, noting the inventive use of fake eyelashes on page 38. She'd have to try that sometime. As much as she hated packing and moving, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was finally going home after a very long vacation. There was something about PPTH that she needed.
Cameron snuggled deeper into the worn-out old couch, her eyelids drooping. Soon, she was asleep, still clutching her Cosmo.
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House surveyed his office with dissatisfaction. Cuddy had told him that Cameron would be sharing it with him when she came back tomorrow, and had thoughtfully provided a desk and chair for the young immunologist. He'd had the janitor move it around the room several times, but he still wasn't satisfied. Finally, the poor janitor had given up and walked out of House's office in disgust.
He'd tried to move it himself. He got about a foot before the shooting pains in his leg became too much to handle. Looked like this was a job for the Boy Wonder. House smirked as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.
"Hello?" A groggy voice answered on the third ring.
"Come to the hospital." Gregory House's sharp voice greeted a still-sleepy Wilson.
"House?"
"My, my, aren't you slow tonight. Of course House, now get in here." The phone clicked off as House hung up.
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"What do you want, House?" Wilson entered the office of his crazy (and apparently nocturnal) friend.
"Move the desk."
"WHAT?!"
"Move. The. Desk. I thought that was pretty self-explanatory."
"I understand what you said."
"Your response would suggest otherwise."
"You called me and told me to come into the hospital at three in the morning so I could move your furniture?!"
"Well I'm a cripple."
"And you're going to be even more of a cripple in a minute." Wilson grumbled. "Where am I moving it?"
'Try that corner." House pointed. Wilson pushed the desk halfway before House changed his mind.
"Actually, how about that wall?" The crazed diagnostician pointed across the room. The desk moved five feet in the opposite direction. "Could you maybe turn it so it faces away from the window?"
"House..."
"What? Physical labor too much for you? I always knew you were a girl, Wilson, but this is pathetic."
"Why the hell are you doing this? It's three in the morning."
"You're very fixated on time all of a sudden."
"What I mean is that at three in the morning, you are usually at home. You are usually not in your office, rearranging the furniture like a crazy man. I think you should go home and get some sleep, so as not to scare away the esteemed Dr. Cameron yet again."
"Put the desk over there."
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Cameron stood on the steps of her new apartment building and breathed in. It was the smell of Princeton in the fall. She'd forgotten how much she loved it. Just like so much else. She felt calm as she climbed towards her new home and unlocked the door. Finally, she was back where she belonged.