By the time House finishes his shift - knocking off the last twenty minutes for what he argues to be good behaviour - his current patient is ready to be dispatched and his team has already packed up and left. Making his way down to the forever-hectic ER, he hurries past the coughing and the wounded to the thankful tranquillity of the small examination room in which he had left his young ex-employee to wait out the after-effects of the local anaesthetic.
I suppose she's not really 'young', anymore. She's all grown up and doing her own thing...
He frowns as he recognises this inner monologue to be uncharacteristically paternal, but adopts a small smirk when he turns from the door to find Cameron lying curled up on her side on the unyielding leather of the examination bed; her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. Limping over, his smirk widens into a full-blown grin when he notes that his Gameboy has been placed face-down on the windowsill, and he's willing to bet just about anything that she hasn't even turned it on.
Typical.
His mirth falters slightly when he's faced with the realisation that it lies with him to wake her, and there is something strangely awkward about this simple task which he imagines has a lot to do with the untold number of accidental touches and lingering glances shared over her fellowship. Dismissing such thoughts with a shake of his head, he clears his throat loudly while prodding at her unceremoniously with his cane.
"Rise and shine, Cinderella."
"...You mean Sleeping Beauty."
The blonde mumbles, rolling over onto her back with an awareness of the narrow bed which is curiously impressive. House smirks as he watches her rub at her eyes, noting the way she favours her right side; keeping her left arm close to her body.
"A little presumptuous of you, don't you think?... Vain, at best."
"Cinderella wasn't the sleeping one."
"Well, she must have slept at some point."
"Fine. Cinderella. Whatever makes you happy, House."
Pushing herself up so that she sits perched up on the bed, Cameron regards him nakedly, having rubbed away the minimal hint of mascara applied earlier in the day. As always, when faced with cool green, House finds himself at a loss for what to say, so he compensates by prodding at her dangling shins some more with his cane.
He imagines it's a sign of the times when all this childish provocation earns him is the arch of her brow.
"Ready to go?"
"Yeah, I just need to grab my stuff."
House steps out of the way as Cameron lowers herself down tentatively, watching as she tests her weight on her leg.
"Still feeling numb?"
"Not too bad. A bit tingly, but that's all."
"Enjoy the tingle while it lasts."
He smirks. Rolling her eyes, Cameron makes her way to the door; her gait only slightly impaired as she keeps one leg straighter than the other, and House imagines he only notices due to his knowledge of the events this afternoon.
He refuses to entertain the notion that he notices simply because it's Cameron.
They make their way down the hallway in companionable silence; the hospital relatively quiet - save for the ER - due to the late hour. For this reason, House sees no qualm in following the blonde into the green-tiled locker room in the same way that their time spent together while under House's supervision has the young doctor accepting this intrusion without a word.
"You, uh, need any help?"
His voice is gruff as he takes a seat on one of the long wooden benches that centre the room; his back to Cameron as she strips out of her bloodied clothes before changing into a fresh set of jeans and a simple black sweater from her locker.
"Dream on."
The loftiness of her tone does little to hide the blush his inquiry lends her. In fact, if anything, such out-of-character arrogance only serves to bring attention to her uneasy reaction. Chuckling, House swivels around to watch her as she dons her jacket. Beckoning her over, he ignores the curious glance of a young nurse who enters the room and edges up the soft wool of the blonde's sweater to check on the gauze strapped just above the sharp peak of her hip. He pretends not to notice the way she holds her breath and simply lowers black fabric back over pale flesh; content that the gauze remains free from blood.
"Ready?"
"...Yeah."
Waiting for Cameron to slip into the passenger side of his car - his bike fortuitously at the shop - House cranks up the heat; blowing dust off the infrequently used vents. He rarely feels the cold, a veteran of short-sleeved t-shirts in spite of the often biting New Jersey weather, but he acts on instinct; recalling the almost constant use of the office radiator when Cameron had worked for him. As if on cue, she shivers slightly as she falls into the seat next to him, and he rolls his eyes but resists making a sarcastic quip about her skinny build.
I don't know why, but I think those were the remarks that really got beneath her skin...
"I was expecting you to be on your bike."
"Ah, I can only imagine the disappointment you must be feeling knowing that this trip is going to involve minimal body contact."
"Well, I don't think we'd get very far if I sat on your lap."
House raises an eyebrow, her blasé response to his sarcasm surprising him, and he reminds himself that she's had three years to feed off of his bleak humour.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained..."
He mutters, and she throws him a mischievous smile which he returns with a burlesque wink.
"So, where are you taking me for dinner, then?"
"The deal was you had to beat my best score for me to take you out."
House reminds her, and he watches out of the corner of his eye as she sighs and shakes her head before focusing her attention out of the window.
"Oh alright. But, only because I've always professed that you need feeding up. Buckle up, kid, things are about to get wild."
He warns with a smirk, and the blonde rolls her eyes with ill-hidden amusement.