Unnecessary disclaimer: I wish – but sadly – House still is not mine! Again – if you see a mistake, please let me know, I'm trying but it's not that easy, believe me ;-)
The bar was one of those smoky places with great music and fair alcohol, but almost no edible food and that was exactly that kind of loop hole you could quite easily associate with House. They sat in the boot next to bar – very convenient when expecting barrels of alcohol to even start a resemblance of a normal conversation. Their first round was already placed on the table and House drank his whiskey in one quick gulp while she sipped hers slowly, already regretting her urge to match him in everything, even the choice of alcohol. This was getting more and more uncomfortable with every passing minute. House's eyes were glued to the floor, switching only to look at the ceiling or occasionally on the door. If not counting barbs muttered under his breath, he was mostly silent and had a look of a man convicted for a serious crime and currently subjected to a very vicious torture. Cameron on the other hand was fascinated with the whole deal. How come was it even possible – she wondered. This brilliant man, who's ego was a size of a small country and who is so sure of himself at work that it's almost dangerous to his patients sat here feeling threatened by... her?
"House, this is insane! What is going on? I mean, we're here to have fun and you look like you were currently experiencing some major surgery without anesthesia"
"Yeah, you are right. It's just... I think I'm not too good at being in public with beautiful women" he said, almost chocking on each word. "Lately my social life was limited to Wilson and pretty but unfortunately quite expensive escort, so I might be out of practice". He smiled a little bit more relaxed when stressing the second part of this sentence.
"Of course, a hooker joke – actually I got used to it – it is like without a hooker joke it is not even you anymore" Cameron chuckled seeing the surprised look on his face.
"Well, well dr. Cameron – no indignation? Really, who are you and what did you do with my immunologist. You may be as pretty as her, but now I'm not sure if I can trust you with my patients".
"Wow, House – a compliment from you? I think I should record it, you know to save it for later. Or maybe it is just a beginning of your path toward some better reality, where sun is shining and notorious dr. House is a charming teddy bear keen to help those in need and curing the sick with smile on his face all day long".
"Now, that was just plain mean. I think you just lost any chance to hear anything, even remotely nice from me in the nearest future" he pouted his lips before adding: "Sarcasm suits you"
"So I have been told". In that exact moment the music from the juke box has blared through the speakers, howling down his reply. Cameron felt relived. Her plan to lighten up the mood by engaging him in the banter has been a success. All she had to do now, was to keep it this way. Of course after this horrible noise was over. On the other hand she was grateful for a few minutes to herself. She still couldn't comprehend his behavior. He was a genius for God's sakes, a doctor who often balances on the thin line between medical genius and insanity but never looses his ability to show everyone around who is in charge. But it took only few minutes in some crowded bar and he became so self-conscious and perplexed that it was almost too painful to watch. After all this was just a celebratory drink with a co-worker, wasn't it? She couldn't stop ponder about it. She knew she shouldn't go this road again – thinking about all those possible double meanings every time he looked at her with those impossibly beautiful blue eyes a little bit longer than necessary or when his fingers brushed with hers when she gave him his morning coffee. She has been down there and she knew that it was all but fun. But nevertheless, she couldn't stop considering that maybe, just maybe something has changed and this outing was planned as something more than just a drink with a colleague. He was nervous, and though his explanation about lack of practice was plausible, she felt that there was something more hiding behind his odd behavior. Actually, if he wanted to ask her for a date without risking a chance of being mocked, this would be a perfect opportunity. A celebratory drink after work sounded enough innocent and the problem of their two co-workers solved almost itself. But this still made no sense at all. He knew how she felt about him, so there was no risk of rejection – he could just ask, like normal people do. At this moment she realized how stupid her musings really were – he wasn't a "normal" person, therefore expecting him to something in ordinary way – wasn't too smart. The only question was how to take the cat out of bag. Assuming of course that there actually was any cat waiting!