"It's alive!" House declared with creepy Dr. Frankenstein voice as a creature resembling his recently missing fellow emerged through the conference room doorway.
Cameron gingerly walked to the table choosing not to acknowledge House's presence at all. She gave Foreman a brisk half smile before going back to a frown, all while pulling out Gatorade and a sleeve of saltines from her bag.
"Welcome Dr. Cameron to reality acceptance. While you were gone Foreman and I managed to single-handedly solve a very troubling case where we once again snatched the patient from the jaws of death."
Foreman rolled his eyes. "We gave her antibiotics and she got better. You missed nothing."
"Oh, he's so modest!" House wittily observed. "Okay, since we don't have a case, Foreman and I have clinic duty. Cameron, Wilson needs help with one of his patients today. A terminal patient which is good for you because you won't accidentally kill her due to a hormonal fog."
Cameron got up continuing avoiding eye contact, grabbed her drink and crackers and headed for Wilson's office without uttering a single word. "Well that was rude," House said to Foreman in a sarcastic voice.
"You think we should give Dr. Wilson some type of warning?"
"Who Wilson? He's been married three times. If anyone has a grasp on unstable and wildly unpredictable females, it's him."
Foreman shook his head while smiling at the prospect that House was so setting his friend up. "I'm hedging all future bets on the pregnant woman. She's got raging hormones on her side. The terminator wouldn't be able to stop her."
House wasn't about to give up the ship. "You'll see. Good always triumphs over evil."
Foreman scoffed. "In the comic books. Here, we are in deep trouble."
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"Mrs. Reynolds? I'm Dr. Cameron. I'm assisting Dr. Wilson today." Cameron grabbed the chart from the end of the bed and started reading. Her mouth popped open in shock as she began to turn through the sordid multiple pages of the patient history. She bit her lip to ward off the intense rush of sympathy and pity that was starting to overwhelm her.
"It can't be that bad dear."
"I'm sorry," she said giving every sign she was now fighting back tears. "Anyway, I'm here to start another therapy. All I need to do is start an IV line."
Cameron pulled the tray over and studied all the equipment in front of her. The continuing rush of sadness caused her to tremble and her lip to quiver.
"It's okay dear. I accept my fate. I resolved a long time ago I wasn't going let this thing beat me. It may be winning physically, but my spirit is still strong and defiant. Soon I'll be part of the kingdom of glory."
Cameron nodded, still distressed and not feeling any comfort from the words of determination. She went to administer the IV, but found it impossible to find a spot on her arm to insert the needle.
"Sorry, I have been fighting this for six years. I have worse track marks than a junkie. Try right here." She pointed to a spot at the back of her hand.
Cameron glared shockingly at the scar ravaged arm, tattered from the years of physical suffering. It was easily one of the worst she'd seen in her medical career. As she inserted the needle and secured it with tape, that was all it took to push her over the edge. The waterworks busted through.
The patient lifted up her arm and rubbed Cameron's back soothingly while she sobbed profusely. "Are you a new doctor?"
"It's so sad, all the pain you've had to go through." Of course she never cried over other patients who were dying. The hormones were winning.
Wilson heard the commotion and blinked his eyes several times to make sure he was seeing correctly when he entered the room. His terminal cancer patient was doing everything she could to calm down the hysterical doctor. He was so getting House for this. "Thank you Dr. Cameron. I've got it from here."
Cameron wiped the tears from her eyes and started to leave, but not before the patient gave her a hand squeeze in support. "Thank you," she told the woman before running out of the room, headed straight for the bathroom next.
"I apologize for that Mrs. Reynolds." Wilson said as he checked to make sure the IV was administered properly.
"Can she come back later?"
"Why would you want her back?" A completely surprised Wilson asked
"She's the first person ever to make me feel like I don't have it that bad, and I'm dying."
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House tried like mad as he approached his office to guess why there were sounds of hysterical laughter emanating from the adjoining room. He apprehensively peeked his head in to witness Cameron reading the paper. She spotted House and decided to share the funny. "You should read today's Garfield. It's hysterical."
House was frozen in his tracks, wondering what the crazy person in front of him would do next. "I'll pass," he replied backing away with small and slow steps until he was in the safety of his office.
He barely had time to sit down when a livid Wilson barged in. "She lost it in front of my cancer patient."
"Cameron laughed at your patient?"
"No, she was sobbing. Why?"
House pointed to the room next door, his face and body frozen in fear as if he was showing his friend the bogeyman.
Wilson took a couple steps over, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the laughing. "She's only pregnant, right? You sure she isn't also certifiably insane??"
Their conversation was interrupted by a cell phone ring. Both men glanced at theirs only to realize it was coming from the other room. They moved closer with total caution and terror, but they had to listen in. They had to know what happened next.
"What do you want?" Cameron snapped angrily into the phone. "No, my day is not going well...What did you think it would be like?...I feel like barfing, thanks for asking...Yeah, go back to your important job and ignore me. I'll never forget that YOU did this to me." She slammed the phone shut, opened the paper and resumed her laughing.
Both stunned men slowly backed away to safety careful to not make any sharp movements. They did not want to alert the creature to their presence so to avoid vicious attack.
"I think I just walked into a Lon Chaney film," a rather frightened Wilson said with a whisper.
"Lon Chaney was never this scary." House sank into his chair, trembling over the horror of it all.
"You've got a situation here." Wilson bluntly informed House.
"That's why I like you. You have this profound gift to verbalize the freaking obvious!" House replied still whispering. He looked downward, eyes obviously showing his trademark problem solving glare. "We need to rally the troops. We are defenseless as individuals but as a unified group we have a chance. You find Foreman, I'm calling Chase."
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House hobbled over to the table, wearing a serious, no, downright grim look on his face. He didn't want to sugarcoat the magnitude of the situation. "As always, if any of you should be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions."
"So this is Mission Impossible?" Wilson asked him. He signaled to the waitress that they needed that other beer delivered now.
"It most certainly is. The element of danger is definitely there." Foreman countered, actually agreeing with House for a change.
"So, do you have any sort of plan that doesn't involve us being maimed or killed?" Chase asked with deep worry. He had the right to be most concerned, since he was the one in the biggest line of danger.
House slid into the bar stool, took a large gulp of the fresh beer put in front of him, and went to speak. Nothing came out though. He shook his head. "I've got nothing."
The others all groaned, not sure why their time was being wasted except that it involved beer.
"Come on, you mean to tell me that all four of us men aren't a match against one turbulent yet frail pregnant woman?"
"Face it House. We are doomed." Foreman lamented. Cameron couldn't be dealt with under normal circumstances. As a beast, victory was hers.
"I need suggestions! No one asked for opinions. Never tell me the odds."
They all looked at each other and collectively shrugged. "Exorcism?" Chase suggested.
House dropped his head into his hand. "Never let the Catholic offer input. I did however read about a book by some quack that says the bible can be used as a cure for PMS related mood swings. This is the same thing, right? Of course I got lost on the synopsis the second I saw the word "bible". Sounds like that might be your research assignment Chase."
"That crap doesn't even work for someone like me that believes in God's existence. We are better off with the exorcism."
Everyone sighed with their heads hung low as they took more swigs of beer to relieve their distress. "Do I sense a feeling of defeat in the room?" House had to rally the troops.
"One tiny little waif with a bun in the oven is going to triumph over the combined brain trust of us four?" He looked at Chase sardonically. "Okay, us three?"
"Since you mentioned PMS," Foreman said having some experience with that on his home front, "We could try a little weather predicting."
The glazed looks coming from the others gave Foreman the clue he needed to elaborate.
"We look for patterns, maybe she is bitchy in the morning and bitchy in the afternoon and bitchy in the evening…well you get the point. Let's try to guess the upcoming mood based on clues and react appropriately."
Chase shook his head. "That's your great plan! Her mood changes at the drop of a hat."
"Shut up, you're the one that did this to her," House said brushing off Chase's negativity. "I like it. It's got to work at least some of the time. Her moods only change quickly on the bad days."
"Every day is a bad day!" Chase yelled. "You would be predicting the path of a tornado, not just mere weather patterns."
"Us? Oh no, you get to do this too. We get the day shift, you get night duty." House instructed.
Wilson drank his beer and giggled profusely over watching these three go off on each other. He knew anything suggested was going to be a giant exercise in futility.
"Even the weather man is right some of the time," House said supporting the plan. We've got to try something. She's making cancer patients cry."
"No, actually she's making them feel better about dying." Wilson answered now being sucked into this madness. "Maybe we should just assign her to terminal cases for a while."
"If all else fails, we could drug her. Slip something into her water." Foreman recognized when a backup plan was needed.
"She isn't keeping anything down. You would have to jab her with a needle. That would only work once." House only had so many tricks up his sleeve.
"I can't believe this," a distressed Chase said. "You are not drugging my pregnant wife at your free will."
Chase felt a hand lightly cuff him at the back of the head. "What the hell was that for?" He asked House, who was the obvious guilty party since he was the one shaking his hand in pain.
"Well, I feel much better now. Anyone else want a turn?"
Chase gave him the evil eye, still demanding his reason.
"This is all your fault. Your right to protest is gone." House turned to the rest of the group. "I vote for weather predicting. Hell, it's better than nothing. All in favor say aye."
Only House said aye.
"Great, it's a majority. We start the plan first thing tomorrow."
----------------------
The plan all in all was pretty simple. Chase would let Foreman know Cameron's mood via text message when she left for work each morning. Foreman would put that mood on the mood chart hanging near House's desk. He and House would follow her patterns throughout the day looking for trends. At the end of the day, Foreman would text her mood to Chase and it became his job to follow patterns in the evening.
Day one went off without a hitch. The mood swings were less frequent and there was ample time with the warnings for each man to prepare as they encountered Cameron. Day two was a little more disconcerting. Cameron's moods were a little more turbulent and many times they were caught off guard. Also, the patterns of day two didn't resemble any pattern of day one. By day three, the wheels fell off the wagon.
"We need to abandon all hope today," Foreman told House. "Run and hide, that is our only hope for survival."
"It can't be that bad." House said.
"She was grumpy this morning, energetic by the time she got here, jubilant when she started running tests on the patient, bewildered when we were in the lab, deeply depressed by the time we were at lunch and when I last left her she couldn't keep her eyes open."
"That's good news. She gets tired in the afternoon."
"That's not all she gets."
They heard a rather irate female screaming at a lab tech in the hallway that delivered her test results a half hour later than promised. They watched the young man's body ran wildly past while the shouting voice kept berating him from a further distance. Then they heard that maniacal voice get closer to the office.
"Run!" House said as he and Foreman bolted out the balcony door, heading to Wilson's for refuge.
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Chase climbed wearily up the stairs toward the apartment. It was his turn for Cameron night duty. There was no way this plan was going to work. He had to play along though, so he pulled out his cell phone and checked the text message from Foreman. Since it was a few hours since she left work, the mood had likely changed, but at least he could get some idea as to how her day ended. 'World cruise' read the message. 'What the hell is that?' Chase thought.
He wasn't able to ponder long because when he opened the door he felt a petite arm yank him through the doorway. The door closed behind him and he was pushed back against the wall in one fluid motion. Suddenly, his lips were under a furious assault. His attacker noticed that in his surprised state he wasn't kissing back.
"What, don't you want me?" she asked panting heavily while removing his jacket and tie.
He stopped to check her eyes. Pupils seemed normal this time, so her drug must be hormonal. "You've got to excuse me. I was having deja vu."
She carried on her assault and had him stripped in no time. Yep, this was definitely deja vu. He did the only thing a defenseless man in his position could do. He kissed back and together in a wild frenzy of flying clothes, rabid tongues and anxious lips they staggered to the bedroom.
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Chase needed a few minutes to recover from the fast and furious bout with a surprisingly strong pregnant woman. He was still in bed, flat on his back, trying to comprehend what the hell just happened. He didn't have to do anything at all. Once he was thrown onto the bed and mounted, his only choice was to lie there and take it.
Now that the shock and surprise had worn off, he smiled recognizing that the entire experience was really fun. He always loved being dominated. Still, he was going to have to be mentally prepared for such attacks in the future.
Cameron had already gone into the other room. Despite some explosive sex, she was still pretty much wired. Chase thought he better go see what she was up to.
Considering nothing really surprised him anymore, he wasn't at all floored by the sight of Cameron on the couch digging into a half gallon of ice cream like it would evaporate into thin air if she didn't eat it all now. She was shoveling it in at an alarming rate to where he was amazed she wasn't choking.
"Vanilla? You get carte-blanche with eating for a while and you choose vanilla?"
She couldn't answer at first since her voice was muffled by a mouth stuffed full of ice cream. She slowed down long enough to give a quick answer. "It's the only flavor and food over the last two weeks that doesn't make me want to barf. The book told me to find foods that agree with me." She went back to stuffing herself at a furious rate.
"Is that advice helping?"
Again, he had to wait until the ice cream slid down her throat for an answer. "Not one freaking bit. I took crackers to work today and drank Gatorade and threw it all up anyway. I was thinking about putting an IV line in for hydration, but I got slightly better later in the afternoon."
Chase tried to remember the mood that was reported for the afternoon. Oh yeah, tired. "What did House have you do today?"
"Nothing, I think I scared the shit out of him."
Cameron put the ice cream down suddenly. "I can't eat this anymore. Hopefully it will taste as good when it comes back up."
Chase noticed her relatively calm mood and decided now was the time to bring up his deep concern. There was never really a good time, so he just needed to throw caution to the wind. "You should try to see the OBGYN sooner. I'm sure we can work in something tomorrow. I'm willing to bet she can prescribe some Zofran or Phenergan."
Cameron's face flushed instantly in a flash of anger. "I can't take those drugs! There are too many harmful side effects. Weight loss, hair falling out, skin irritation and seizures. What good am I to the baby as a vegetable? I don't want to risk it."
"You know side effects are worst case. You need to be examined. Nausea shouldn't be this bad in pregnancy." He moved closer, grabbing her arms and bringing his eyes even with hers. He ran his thumb softly under her dark eye. "Look at you. Bruises are starting to form under your eyes from vomiting too much. Your clothes have been looser and you were pretty skinny to begin with. We need to check your urine for ketones."
"What are you suggesting? You think something is seriously wrong with me?"
"You could have Hyperemesis Gravidarum."
The rage within Cameron was at full fury now. She shot up from the couch. "That's ridiculous! That is a rare condition. That would assure misery and panic throughout the entire pregnancy!"
"You know it's not that rare. It can affect up to 2 percent of all pregnancies. How much weight have you lost in the last two weeks?"
Cameron turned away and said nothing.
"Come on, or I'm getting you on the scale right now."
"5 lbs I think."
He grabbed her chin. "I think it is more. You shouldn't be losing weight while pregnant. The earlier the diagnosis, the sooner nutrient loss for you and the baby can be avoided."
Cameron jerked away not wanting to hear anymore. "I'm fine. You are just overanalyzing because you are acting like a doctor and not a father. I've finally accepted that we are having this baby, I'm not about to accept that I could have a potentially serious complication like that." She stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door.
Chase sank down onto the couch and leaned backward, not sure how he was going to get her to see reason. While pondering his next move, the bedroom door opened and he was hit in the face with a pillow and a blanket. The door slammed shut again and he heard the doorknob lock turn.
"Oh, so that's what 'world cruise' means," he said under his breath. "All over the map and destination unknown."
--------------------------------
"Robert, wake up." He felt the rather weak jab at his shoulder. He quickly shot up when his foggy mind recognized he was on the couch. He looked at Cameron who was shaking so badly that she was about to pass out.
He was able to jump up and grab her before she fell over.
"My urine is dark iced tea and I'm vomiting bile. Take me to the hospital now."
Panic swept over him as he picked her up, grabbed the car keys from the counter and rushed them both out the front door within seconds.
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a/n: It will be at least a week or more before the next update. I'm out of town most of next week with the fam because of Spring Break. What's even worse is that I'll be in a very rural area where the relatives don't have cable or satellite, and the only station that comes in on the rabbit ears is CW! No Fox so I won't get to see the new episode until I get back (as long as the TIVO works while I'm gone). I'm so bumming right now.