Two men versus a baby
Apologies for the delay in updating...this chapter goes out to the readers who wants to see vengeance and more of Christopher James.
Christopher is now seven months old. At an age when babies were mastering the art of crawling, Christopher was stuck with a physical therapist who helped develop his affected leg three times a week.
His parents—yes, both of them—were relieved when they found that Christopher would be spared from undergoing distraction osteogenesis. According to Dr. Landers, "The only thing that was keeping this baby from developing normally was that band around his leg. You noticed that since he had the operation, his right leg is catching up."
"I did," Cameron said in relief, hugging her baby close to her. Christopher happily babbled incoherently, waving his miniature version of Gravedigger in his right hand.
Landers continued, "His wound has healed nicely." She playfully snatched Gravedigger from Christopher's clutches, waving it a tiny distance away from him for a few seconds before Christopher lunged for his toy and began to bite it. "And it hasn't affected him in the least. He's a very lucky little guy. Fast healer, too."
She reached out and tousled her patient's curly auburn hair, which now spilled over his ears and the collar of his Mickey Mouse t-shirt. Landers chuckled and opened Christopher file.
"No trouble with the weight gain, Dr. Cameron?" she asked.
"Only when he was recuperating from the operation up until last month," Cameron replied, nuzzling her son's neck and breathing in his baby scent. "Next thing I knew, he got his appetite back with a vengeance!"
Cameron chuckled. Landers smiled knowingly.
"Have you started him on the formula?" the pediatrician asked, writing down something in Christopher's file while waiting for an answer.
Cameron sighed, shifted the baby in her arms and looked into his fantastic blue eyes; those same eyes crinkled up before their owner began to giggle. "It was tough, but he got used to the bottle, eventually. He's also starting on semi-solid foods, too."
"That's wonderful!" Dr. Landers replied elatedly. Cameron gave the pediatrician a half-smile. You have no idea.
A month ago…
Two men were arguing as they walked up towards the charming little house in the suburbs of New Jersey on a Saturday morning.
"Again, what's with the not telling me part, Wilson?" House whined, limping past his friend to reach the door and pressing down on the doorbell repeatedly. Wilson caught up to House, stopped the older man from pressing on the doorbell, and produced a set of keys from his pocket with which he calmly unlocked the door.
"Christopher is my godson," Wilson said, opening the door and walking through it before letting his friend hobble through. "Cameron needed help while he's recovering from the operation, and I needed to share rent with someone now that Julie has found an attack dog in a new divorce attorney and wants my soul and other material assets, despite the fact that she's the one who committed the adultery this time around."
Wilson let House digest that while he closed the door behind them. From somewhere inside the house, Cameron called out, "Wilson, did you bring House with you?"
House was startled. "Wow—three weeks living with you, and she's developed super-hearing! What else is she developing—X-ray vision?"
"Motherhood tends to give women exceptional gifts," Wilson said dryly as Cameron's footsteps were heard clicking on the parquet floor. "In Cameron's case, she knows I don't ring the doorbell like an immature teenager when I get home."
Wilson turned around as a disheveled Cameron appeared inside the living room, holding a grumpy-looking and pale Christopher in her arms. Mother and son looked like they lost the battle with the formulated milk; Cameron's forehead and nose was covered with the pale yellow powder and Christopher's bib and light green stretchy suit was encrusted with dried milk.
Cameron smiled briefly in greeting at Wilson before eyeing House with daggers. House moved behind Wilson before lightly saying, "Tie?"
"To strangle you with?" Cameron snapped. "I wish!"
Christopher whimpered and stretched against his mother. Cameron looked down at her son and said softly, "No sweetie—Dr. Landers said you have to take to the formula."
Wilson sighed. "Still doesn't want it? Gee, wonder where that streak of stubbornness came from?"
Two pairs of eyes turned to their guest, who stuck out his lower lip and shrugged: "Environmental?"
"Genetics is more likely," Cameron muttered, turning towards the kitchen as Christopher started yowling. Wilson and House followed.
"What's wrong with your milk?" House asked loudly as he and Wilson entered the cozy kitchen. Cameron strapped her bawling son on the baby carrier that was in the middle of the kitchen table before facing House.
"I'm running out," Cameron said dully, "and Christopher needs more sustenance if he's to recuperate fully from the operation." She turned to the bottle sterilizer that was placed a small distance away from the baby carrier. "Before I can start Christopher on semi-solid foods, I have to wean him from my milk. But he's not taking the transition very well so far."
Barely had she taken a new bottle out of the sterilizer that she began to cry. Wilson moved forward and opened his arms out to her; Cameron wilted into his open arms.
"Tell you what, Cameron," Wilson said in a soothing tone, turning around slightly to give House a meaningful look. House's eyes bulged; he began to move backward slowly…
vv
Thirty minutes later…
A freshly showered and dressed Cameron looked dubiously at Christopher's new caretakers. She had reason to doubt their capability—well, one of them, at least.
"Are you sure you guys are going to be all right?" Cameron asked loudly over Christopher's intensified wails.
Wilson nodded as he rocked his godson back and forth in his arms. House looked like he swallowed a giant pickle; Wilson exaggerated his baby rocking so that his elbow sharply poked House's arm, provoking the older man's "Yeah".
Cameron was not reassured; she turned to Wilson and gave him a wide-eyed look of apprehension. Wilson gave her a brisk nod and a "We'll be fine."
The doorbell rang.
"Call me if something comes up, ok?" Cameron said. She ran up to Wilson and gave an irate Christopher a quick peck on the forehead. "Please take in some formula, honey! Mommy will be home soon."
Then she leveled a look at House. "I'm holding you to our bargain, House. If you don't help Wilson encourage Christopher to drink his formula, I'm not going back to work for you."
Cameron picked up her purse and walked towards the door. "Good luck."
vv
Ten minutes after Cameron left…
"I give up!" House cried, flopping down on the sofa and draping the rest of his 6-foot-2 frame on the furniture.
Across the living room, Wilson looked like he was ready to drop as well—and from the scowl directed in his friend's direction, he was also considering dropping a dirty diaper on his head.
Christopher still hadn't stopped crying since his mother left. Looking down at the baby, Wilson wondered where the little guy got the stamina to continue with his racket if he was getting less nourishment from Cameron.
"I say we take Nemo there to Cuddy and give her a crash course on motherhood," House growled from the couch. Wilson swallowed and turned away from House, hoping that he didn't catch him turning red at the mention of Cuddy.
Good grief, man! Wilson chided mentally to himself. What are you, in high school?!
After walking Christopher around the house—with the double intention of cooling off and distracting the baby—Wilson's cellphone rang. He awkwardly balanced the baby in his arms to see who was calling him. The name flashing on the LCD made Wilson react oddly.
He walked swiftly towards House and deposited Christopher on his stomach.
"You've got babysitting duty for now, Dad," Wilson barked at a speechless and outraged House, who hefted himself into a sitting position as he viewed Wilson's progress from the living room to the front door. "It's the hospital—emergency. I'll be back as soon as I can. There's food in the fridge in case I get home late; the baked macaroni is good for another trip to the microwave—and make sure Chris gets his formula!"
The door slammed behind Wilson before House could say anything.
vv
Wilson drove quickly to the direction of PPTH, then turned off into another direction. The sleek silver Toyota entered a suburb and parked in front of a charming white house with some ivy framing the front. He turned his car into this house's driveway behind a black Mercedez Benz, pulled the brakes and killed the engine. As he got out of his car, he noticed that a slender, curvaceous form sheathed in a purple robe and crowned with black hair has emerged from the house.
Lisa Cuddy gave Wilson a sexy, languorous smile, stretching out a slim arm as he walked towards her. Wilson took her hand into his, threading their fingers together before allowing himself to be pulled into her arms for some enthusiastic lip action.
As she pulled her lover into her house, she asked, "Are you sure it's safe to leave Christopher with House, James?"
Wilson quickly closed the space between them to nuzzle his nose with hers before replying, "He'll live; I recalled Mrs. House telling me how her son managed to coax a malnourished baby to feed…"
"I'll buy that," Cuddy cut in, shifting her face to bring Wilson's lips to hers.
vv
Meanwhile…
"Damn it!" House yelled as Christopher squalled just as indignantly after he eluded the tip of the bottle aimed at his pink mouth.
House was seriously contemplating calling Cameron back. He was about to whip his cellphone out of his pocket when a foul smell assaulted his senses. Looking down at his charge, he noticed how Christopher seemed to be concentrating very hard.
"Shit!" he hissed, putting the baby and the full bottle down on the middle of the couch as he whipped out his Vicodin bottle…
vv
Two Vicodin pills later…
House was able to maintain consciousness as he finished removing Christopher's diaper in the baby's room. After disposing the offensive thing into the proper receptacle, he turned to attempt to clean off the baby's rump on the changing table when he felt something warm and wet hit his chest.
House stood stock still until the trickle died out before glaring down at his relieved-looking son. For once, the baby looked calm and angelic (if one can ignore the reddened eyes) as he looked up at his irate and grossed out sire. House took a deep breath to calm himself down.
"Bad baby," he muttered, looking into his son's eyes and trying not to grin. "Good aim."
House took off his shirt—which was black, thank God—then he took off the rest of Christopher's outfit. He awkwardly walked towards the bathroom and turned on the tap in the bathtub. Inside the tub, he found an inflated, circular baby bath seat. He was about to place Christopher in the contraption when he took a good look at his son's right leg.
The wound had healed—what used to be a tight, invisible band under the knee was now a very strange-looking, very red scar, almost looking like an exaggerated letter Z. He lowered his son until they were looking at each other in the eye.
"M'laaaaaah," Christopher said loudly, flailing his good leg wildly while the scarred leg just swung back and forth.
"Right," House said curtly, lowering his baby into the inflatable seat carefully.
vv
Ignoring the bum leg, cleaning up a six-month-old baby was a cinch. He wrapped Christopher in a large Blue's Clues towel like a burrito, with his cherubic face peeking out, and placed him inside his crib. House checked out the contents of a large chest and unearthed a red stretchy suit with "The Incredibles" logo on the right. He laid these out on the changing table and went to fetch Christopher from the crib.
"I have to talk to your mother about getting you some appropriate attire," House told Christopher. "How are you going to pick up chicks wearing Mickey Mouse Works?"
He unwrapped his son from the towel and proceeded to dust him from neck to toes with talcum powder. After putting on the diaper and the stretchy suit on Christopher, House picked him up and inspected his handiwork.
Frowning, House tested Christopher's weight by carefully hoisting him up, then down. "We have to fatten you up, Nemo."
"Mwaaaaaah," Christopher replied.
vv
Cameron arrived at the house at 6:00 PM. She spent a relaxing day at the spa in the mall, splurging on some massages and other treats for the body and soul. With that done, she killed some time at a bookstore and sipped some frappuccino at a café. To assuage any feelings of guilt at leaving House and Wilson at the mercy of hurricane Christopher, Cameron also bought some Chinese fast food.
Upon disembarking from the cab, she became aware of two things: Wilson's car was not in the driveway, and the lights were out.
Heart pumping fast and lugging her purchases tightly in her hands, Cameron ran to the front door. She dropped her purchases and frantically searched her purse for the keys. It took her racing mind a moment to register the classical music playing softly through the door.
Bewildered, Cameron managed to find her keys and unlock her front door. She groped the wall to turn on the lights, lugged her bags in, and shut the door behind her.
The music seemed to be coming from her bedroom.
Leaving her purchases on the floor, Cameron tiptoed to her bedroom, opened the door, turned on the lights—and dropped her jaw.
Sprawled on her queen-sized bed, with Christopher dozing and drooling on his chest, was a topless House. Beside House were three empty bottles, which evidently once contained milk formula.
About the baby seat: I saw one on a Ripley's: Believe it or Not! episode.
Thoughts?