By the end of the day, Cameron's feet begged for mercy in the constraints of their Italian leather torture devices. She shifted her weight from leg to leg, trying to give each foot a second or two of relief as she signed the last patient chart.
She glanced up at the clock as she handed her file to the nurse. "It's six o'clock and that was my last one, so I'm officially out of here. Are the other doctors gone?"
"Dr. Foreman got paged to a Neurology consult in the ER and Dr. House just left a few minutes ago".
Cameron gave her a quick smile before turning for the door. "Great. Ok, well good-night, then".
"Dr. Cameron?" the nurse said, softly. "Dr. House said that this was your last scheduled clinic duty. I was sorry to hear that you're leaving…actually, all the nurses here are. Best of luck, okay?"
Her kindness threw Cameron slightly off guard. The nurses always seemed infinitely more hospitable once the shift was over but none had ever struck up a conversation with her. "Thanks," she said, as she pushed the door open, "I really appreciate that. Have a good night".
She longed to go home and get out of her killer shoes and into a hot bath, but somehow her feet wouldn't move her past the reception desk in the lobby. With no case in Diagnostics, there was no reason to go upstairs to check on things. Foreman was in ER and House had presumably gone home.
"I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure leaving actually involves walking through the doors, not staring at them".
Cameron turned her head towards House's familiar voice. "I'm leaving. I was just…"
House seemed to take pleasure in her loss for words. "Right. Well, Cuddy's on the warpath, so you better get out of here while you can. She's a couple of docs short in the ER tonight...something about a rampant stomach bug. I guess Foreman will be pissed once he finds out I was the one that paged him to the ER. Lucky for me I know all the secret exits".
"I don't think leaving through the largest door in the hospital will get you credit for giving Cuddy and Foreman the slip. What are you still doing here, anyway? The nurses in the clinic told me you'd gone home a while ago".
"Nope. All part of my mystique, though," he said, eyeing her intently. "So…how'd you get to work?"
"What? I drove. How do I get to work everyday?"
A small grin began to make its way across his face. "Well, normal days, sure. But these days with Dr. McDreamy, who knows how".
Cameron could not hold back the impulse to roll her eyes in frustration. "I drove," she repeated defiantly, as she stepped on the rubber pad, causing the front doors to magically swish open.
"Great! Let's drive over to Kelly's".
Cameron stopped in her tracks as if to better comprehend his request.
"That's a bar".
"Very true".
"On the other side of town".
"Also very true. I don't drink and ride…that would just be reckless".
Cameron didn't flinch. "Last time I checked, the taxi's still run in this town".
"Do you have any idea how much fare is from Kelly's to my house?"
"Right, what was I thinking?" she scoffed, as she limped behind him. "Wait!" she bellowed. "I've got to take these off".
The sudden announcement of some possible form of clothing about to be surrendered caused House to turn and walk quickly back towards her.
"What are you doing?" he asked, as she placed one hand on his shoulder to steady herself while she struggled to slip off a shoe.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she winced, "I'm taking off my shoes".
"Why?"
Cameron shifted her balance as she raised her other hand to his shoulder, slipping off the other shoe. "Because they hurt and I can't walk another step in them".
"Oh, God!," she moaned, as she stretched her feet out flat on the sidewalk. "Oh, that feels so good !"
"Jeez, what is it with you women and shoes?" he asked nervously, as he struggled to think of something else besides the sound of Cameron moaning. "Why would you voluntarily shop for and then buy something that causes irreversible damage to your body and then strap it on each foot for eight hours each day?"
Cameron sighed as she waited for his rant to end. "It's all part of our master plan to become dominant over the male species," she said, sarcastically.
"So this is your great plan…to hobble 20 yards barefooted across a parking lot teeming with bacteria and debris? Just exactly what kind of man are you looking to conquer, anyway?"
"Look, the way I see this playing out is that we can either trade shoes and you can wear these," she said, dangling the pair of offensive shoes in front of his face, "or I go barefoot while you just replay the sound of my euphoric moaning over and over in your head as we press on".
House cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Ok, pressing on it is," he said, as he quickly turned back towards the parking garage.
Cameron smiled as she stared at House's back. "Yep, pressing on," she said softly, under her breath.
Kelly's looked exactly the same as it did the last time she'd been there almost two years ago with Foreman and Chase. It was smoky and gritty but the food was incredible.
Cameron quickly scanned the crowded bar for someplace to sit. "There aren't two seats together at the bar, but there's a booth over there by the jukebox".
The mere mention of something other than a barstool made House's eyes roll back. "I don't do booths".
"Fine," Cameron frowned. "You go sit at the bar and I'll sit in the booth. What'll be your signal that you're ready to go, falling off the barstool or doing a nose-dive into the pretzel dish?" She didn't wait for his response, but quickly turned instead to make her way towards the booth.
An older waitress with just a hint of having once been a strikingly lovely woman brushed past them. "Well, hey there doc! Where's Dr. Jimmy tonight?"
Cameron laughed under her breath at the thought of how Wilson came to be known as "Dr. Jimmy" at a place like this.
"Don't tell me this pretty thing is with you?" the woman asked bluntly, as House squirmed. "Not that we don't love Dr. Jimmy, but it's about time!" she cackled.
Cameron could feel herself blush at the woman's comment, but luckily didn't think House would notice as dark as it was in the bar.
"I've got a booth back there, sweetie," she pointed with her free hand, while she handed Cameron two menus with the other. "I'll be over in just a second to wipe the table down," she rattled off quickly, before walking away.
House waited for Cameron to pick a side and slide in first. He hung his cane up on the coat hook on the outside of the booth and then slid in, opposite her. They sat silently, each staring at some imaginary spot of interest somewhere beyond the small booth, until the waitress returned.
"The usual, doc?" she asked, as she wiped the table with a less than clean-looking rag. "And, what can I get you, sweetie?" she asked, turning to Cameron, "please tell me you're gonna eat something. You look like you're just gonna blow away".
House pushed his menu off to the side of the table. "She doesn't eat; she's got an issue with fat people. She'll just have water and maybe a slice of lemon if she's feeling very, very decadent".
Cameron's gaze burned into his. "I'll have a draught beer and a Cheese Steak-- easy on the onions, an order of steak fries and a small side salad; house dressing is fine," she fired off, before gently tossing her menu on top of the one House had discarded.
The waitress had the same look on her face that Cameron's mother always did when she managed to get Cameron to take a second helping at Thanksgiving dinner.
"Wow. Think that's wise…what with the big party tomorrow night and all?" House smirked.
Cameron tossed her purse into the corner of the seat in the booth as she leaned back to stare at him defiantly.
"My dress fits quite nicely, thank you".
House sized her up from his vantage point across the table. "Great. It's just that I don't think you'll find the toilets here up to your standards if you're thinking of getting rid of all of that before we leave".
Cameron looked shocked. "You…you think I'm bulimic?"
"What I think, is that on any given day of the week, my pastrami sandwich from the best deli in Princeton has more fat on it that you do".
"I'm not bulimic".
"Don't get defensive. It's a disease, you know, totally curable".
"Is it? And here I thought you didn't know anything about psychologically-based addictions," she lobbed back.
The truthfulness of her words finally pierced his tough façade. He turned away from her, looking over towards the bar as his fingers rapped out an unknown beat on the tabletop.
"So…how'd you hear about the party, anyway?" she asked, as she tried valiantly to salvage what was left of the conversation. "Oh, what am I saying? I'm sure Cuddy must have mentioned it, right? Are you two… planning on going?"
House slowly turned his attention back to her. "Actually, it was Foreman. He seems to think he'll be able to make a lot of good contacts there. Boy, is he misguided".
Cameron laughed softly as she fidgeted with the beer just placed before her. "So, why am I here, House? Did you just need a fill-in for Wilson while he's away or is this my good-bye party?"
"Oh, please don't pick me apart," he winced. "I told you, I don't drink and ride. Just eat your damn salad and enjoy the …ambiance".
Cameron had just started to blurt out a response when her pager began to vibrate. She quickly reached down to her waist to free the small device from its holder clipped to her belt.
"Everything okay?" House asked, between taking large swigs off his beer.
Suddenly Cameron felt very torn between her obligation to return the page and House's company. "Um…yes. I'm going to just step outside a minute to get this. I'm sorry…please, don't wait on me if the food comes before I get back".
Cameron grabbed her phone out of her purse and carefully navigated her way through the crowded bar to the door. She quickly pushed the familiar numbers as she stepped outside. "Hey, it's Cam…Allison. Is everything alright?"
On the other end of the line, Sebastian's voice sounded somewhat concerned. "Well, I was just going to ask you that. I tried getting a hold of you down at the clinic but they said you'd left over an hour ago. I thought you were going to page me when you got done today".
"Oh, God, Sebastian I'm so sorry. I left around 6:30 and decided to head home, because my feet hurt so badly, when I ran into House," she tried to explain. "It's a long story, but paging you completely slipped my mind".
"Allison, its fine. So, you're at home? Sorry. I'm not trying to check up on you, I just thought I could bring over pizza from Tony's and some cheesecake from that bakery just down the street from you. Have you eaten?"
Cameron nervously picked at the mortar on the brick wall by where she stood. "I'm not at home, actually. I'm…House sort of asked me out for a drink as I was leaving work. We're at a little place called Kelly's, near downtown. Why don't you join us, let me give you directions".
"No, Allison…really, thanks though. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I can wait until I see you tomorrow. You call me if you need a ride home, okay?"
Cameron shut her eyes tightly to the kindness in Sebastian's voice and the guilt in her own. "Thanks, but I'm the designated driver, so it'll just be the one beer with dinner. May I call you when I get home?"
"Well, I'll be here! And Allison…have a good time, alright? I'll talk to you later, then?"
"Yeah…yeah, I'll call you in a little while".
Cameron felt almost blind as she walked back into the darkened bar. House stood as she slid back into the seat of the booth.
"Slide," he said, bluntly.
Cameron wasn't sure if she heard him correctly. "Excuse me?"
"Slide over. Come on, come on" he motioned impatiently. "You're small, there's plenty of room".
"O-kay. Was there something wrong with your side of the booth?" she asked, skeptically.
"Can't see the race from there," he said, staring up at the small tv screen as he moved his food and beer from the other side of the table. "Keeps you on a short leash, doesn't he?"
Cameron stabbed at her salad with her fork. "I said I would call him when I got off tonight and I forgot. He was concerned".
"What is it they say about lying so early in a relationship? Ah, I can't remember. Can't be good though".
"I didn't lie," she shot back quickly. "Not that it matters, but I told you…we're not involved. Quit instigating".
"I merely observe," he said, snitching several fries off of her plate.
"True," she sighed, as she watched him pilfer several more of her fries before following his attention to the tv screen. "What in God's name are we watching, anyway?
"NASCAR" he said, his mouth stuffed with stolen fries.
"So, by definition what is that? Speed, noise and a gratuitous waste of resources?"
"And those hot NASCAR babes for the winner," he said, pointing to the bevy of scantily-clad blonde beauties that just popped up on the screen. "Hey look, I think that one has on your shoes".
"See," she said, as she placed half of her sandwich on his plate, "I know what I'm talking about. It's all part of the master plan".
"Yeah" he said softly, as he studied her face, "looks that way".