Wow, I'm glad everyone liked the twist!
Drowning in Blue - Chapter Six
"You what?"
James Wilson is incredulous. House is uncharacteristically silent.
"She what?"
He rolls his eyes. "I am not repeating myself."
Wilson jabs his salad with his fork. "So you're dating now?"
"No. It's not dating. I just have to get her to tell me three things."
"Sounds a lot like dating to me." Wilson is suspicious. "I think she's playing you."
House bristles. "She is not playing me."
Wilson raises his fork in a defensive gesture. "Don't get me wrong, she had a thing for you once. But you can only spurn a woman so many times before she just wants to get even. She's playing you."
"You would know, wouldn't you?" he remarks snidely, finishing his sandwich and putting the plate onto Wilson's tray.
"So how are you going to get the secrets out of her?"
House wiggles his eyebrows and stands, limping out of the dining hall. It takes Wilson a few moments to gather his things, bus his tray and catch up with House. When he does, he is slightly unnerved by his smile.
"What...are you up to?"
"Much to learn you do have," House says, looking sage.
Wilson is exasperated. "So why aren't you worried?"
"Because you can't play a player." He is very smug now.
Wilson stops. "Wait..."
House keeps walking.
"You're playing her? And she thinks she's playing you?"
He keeps walking.
"You know, this is almost screwed up enough to be a relationship for you!" Wilson calls, watching his friend wave once before limping into the elevator.
"I hope you know what you're doing," he says softly.
Cameron is leaning over a file, speed reading. He has taught her efficiency, but she keeps her empathetic nature, if only to spite him. She makes herself care, even when a tiny voice inside of her says she shouldn't.
"What does that guy have to do to make you hate him?"
House's voice rings as clear as it had when he had first spoken those words.
Hate him...yes, she hates House.
If she says she hates him, she can pretend that his lips on her skin didn't arouse her at all.
If she says she hates him, she can pretend that the small shards of vulnerability that peek through his gruff skin don't mean anything to her.
If she says she hates him, she can pretend that hearing her name on his lips doesn't make her scalp tighten with anticipation.
She turns to face him.
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Well, I-"
"Cancel it. We're going to dinner. I'll pick you up at 8:00."
He swivels, his weight on his cane, and begins to walk away.
"What should I wear?" Good, she didn't sound too eager.
He glances over his shoulder and she can see the hint of a grin on his face.
"Paint clothes. Something you don't mind getting dirty."
"Are we going to get dirty?" she asks innocently.
He turns to study her and she can feel herself begin to color under his intense gaze. Finally, he breaks the gaze and limps away without answering.
Later in his office, he spins his cane between his fingers.
"Are we going to get dirty?" He replays her question in his mind.
"You have no idea," he murmurs, the slightest smile tugging at his lips.
And that's chapter six! Since this was short, I'll have another one up in a few days. The first date (technically third, if you count the monster trucks and the disaster that was Love Hurts) is coming up in chapter seven. As always, thanks for reading. Reviews are treasured.