House stared down at the beautiful woman that lay in his lap. Her long hair waved down her back and into his lap. She looked peaceful. Cameron's right hand was clenched into a fist, House's shirt bundled up in it; she did that in her sleep and House was absurdly swoon. His leg was giving him pain but he didn't want to move at risk of disturbing the sleeping beauty in his arms. Reaching over to grab the Vicodin bottle, it slipped out of his grasp and hit the floor with a small crash.
The brunette stirred and opened her eyes. "Mmm, good morning." She was still squinting, as the sunlight shining in from the window was still sensitive to her eyes.
"Sorry I woke you."
"How long were you laying like that?"
"About three hours." House checked the digital clock on the nightstand.
Cameron lifted her eyebrows. "It must've been hell on your leg." She turned around and looked at House with her classic concerned look. She rubbed his thigh, soothingly.
Oh, sweet Allison, always so worried about others. "I'm okay. Who's gonna watch out for big monsters if we're both asleep?" He winked.
A silence encompassed the room and House could tell that Cameron was thinking about something. The subtle furrowing of her eyebrows and twitching of her nose always gave it away. Most people wouldn't notice the small things like that but House wasn't most people. He was extra in tune to how people acted. Especially how those he really cared about acted. It was not that much to keep track of as he could count on one hand the number of people he truly enjoyed being around.
"I'm sorry for jumping all over you yesterday," she finally spoke, running a hand down his chest. "You were right. I wasn't ready for that yet."
House just nodded.
"Is Cuddy still angry?" Even though she had every right to hold dispositions, Cameron could not help feeling bad for her words. It was one of the many ways she differed from House- Cameron wanted to be liked and did not want to hurt people's feelings if she could help it.
"Yeah, but she's always angry. Don't worry about it. She'll feel too guilty to do anything drastic. I'll be sure to shed a few tears and mention my 'poor, achy leg' next time I see her."
Cameron laughed and stepped out of bed. "Better get ready. We got a long day ahead of us."
"White, 48-year-old, overweight male with chronic abdominal pain, nausea, and delusions. Now, tell me, what is making Santa hurt?" House grabbed a dry-erase marker and flipped the cap off. Cameron handed him his coffee.
"IBS?" Chase offered.
"His bathroom habits are fine," House jabbed. "Try again."
"What about his bilirubin?" Foreman reached across the table to grab a file. "Elevated bilirubin suggests a liver problem. He's probably a drinker."
"No, he's clear. No alcohol or drugs in his system." Cameron stated.
"It could be fungal, we'll have to wait for the sample to come back."
"What if he's lying?" Chase pondered.
"About what?"
"The alcohol. All of his symptoms mirror an alcoholic's."
House stopped to think about Chase's point. "Search his home. Cameron, go with him. Foreman, do a colonoscopy."
"Alright." The team headed off to their duties.
In the clinic, House was greeted by a short, 18-year-old woman with a pixie cut. Between Cuddy's begging and Wilson's insistence that he take up more responsibility, House folded and went to see the patient.
"I'm-uh- bleeding." The girl avoided eye contact.
"Where?" House asked, feigning ignorance.
"I don't want to say."
"It's fine. I already know." House dressed his hands with nitrile gloves. He patted her knees. "Spread 'em."
She looked offended. "What? How did you know?"
"You're nails aren't trimmed; making it pretty hard to masturbate comfortably."
The shocked look on the woman's face only grew. "How could you possibly-"
"I didn't," House stated, matter-factually. "This gave it away." House reached into her purse and pulled out a sex toy. "Spooky, isn't it."
Cuddy opened the door and stuck her head in. "House, I need to talk to you."
"I'm with a patient!" He faked concern.
She rolled her eyes to the back of her head. "Hurry up." She closed the door, angrily.
The patient's face reddened but she opened up to him now. "I didn't know how to do it. I just kinda- stuck my finger down there. I never thought to trim my nails."
"Horniness can make us do pretty extreme stuff. You should see what that lady sticks up her ass when I'm not around to stroke her woman-boner." He tilted his head toward the doorway that Cuddy had previously been standing in.
The girl laughed.
"You'll be fine; watch a how-to video. Wash your hands next time." He handed her a prescription for pain medicine.
House walked out of the clinic, quickly greeted by the Dean of Medicine, a look of annoyance on her face. "You're such a pain in the ass."
He nearly snorted. "Only when I'm not around." He winked, Cuddy made it way too easy.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. What do you want? I'm kinda busy saving lives and all."
Cuddy scrunched her face. "Why are you having your team break into the house of an alcoholic?"
"They're not. They're breaking into the house of a person with an unknown illness."
"Oh, come on, House. There is nothing for you to solve. It's diagnosed already. Stop wasting your time."
"He's not an alcoholic. He told us he doesn't drink." House began walking to the office.
Cuddy pursed her lips before following him, her heels tapped against the tile floor. "What happened to 'people lie?'"
"He hasn't asked for a drink or tried in any way to get alcohol in the last two days. An alcoholic would be experiencing withdrawal."
She was cut off when a nurse called her to his attention. "Stop looking for things that aren't there."
House limped to his office, contemplating the patient.
Meanwhile, Foreman checked up on the patient.
"Hello, Mr. Donovan. How are you feeling?"
Mr. Donovan grinned, cheekily. "Greaaaat. I feel great." He was laughing. "Look what I can do." He stuck his tongue out and licked his own nose.
Foreman raised an eyebrow. "Are you drunk?"
"Dr..dr...drunk on life, baby!"
Foreman sighed. He removed the unfinished sandwich off the tray. "I'm gonna need to take your blood."
Mr. Donovan just laughed. "That's a big needle."
"Stay still." Foreman got the blood and headed to the lab to get it tested.
Foreman was aggravated and over it. The day had been too long. He cursed House for making them stay and conduct useless tests. It's alcohol. The guy's an alcoholic. He sauntered the hallway.
"Dr. Foreman?" A young auburn-haired woman called.
Foreman turned around. "Yes?"
"Here are those files you wanted from the other day about the heart attack patient."
Slightly amazed by her beauty, he found himself stumbling over his words. "Nurse Mel, is it?"
Mel nodded.
"Thanks." Foreman gave a quick nod.
Mel smiled and walked away, hoping to talk to this handsome doctor some more in the future.
"Doctor Foreman!" House retrieved him from his thoughts. "How's the patient?"
Pissed that House interrupted his glimmer of happiness, he sharply stated, "Drunk. The guy was nuts. You were wrong, House."
"Is that what the blood work showed?" He was obviously skeptical.
Foreman groaned. "Not yet, House. But, he was drunk. Anyone could see it. Just admit you lost this one." He turned passed House.
Dr. Cameron was touching up her makeup in the bathroom with Cuddy walked in behind her.
"Cameron." She greeted.
"Cuddy."
"I'm hoping you got over yesterday's little outburst by now."
"Not unless you're over House." Cameron shot her a glance. Not today, woman. It was hard to be nice to such a malicious individual.
"I don't like House." She placed her hands on her hips.
"Yeah and I'm sure your panties don't get wet every time you walk by him." Cameron sneered, wiping her hands with a paper towel.
Cuddy was surprised at the young woman's aggressive jab. "You're even starting to sound like him."
"What do you want?" She placed her hands on her hips. "Get to it, would ya?" It was out of character for Cameron to fight fire with fire. She was relatively sweet. Maybe that's why people walked all over her. It was time she stood up for herself and remove obstacles that got in her way.
"I don't want anything. Just keep your mind on your job. You know how bad you get when you're in love." The older doctor left Cameron to stand there, alone.
How dare she.
"No way, " Chase stared at the results of the blood work. "His BAC is .3, but he's had no alcohol."
"That's impossible." Foreman was just as amazed.
"Well, obviously it is possible." Cameron added, removing her glasses.
"Auto-brewery syndrome." House said.
"There's only been five documented cases in the world." Cameron approached his side.
"Now there's gonna be six." He turned to the rest of the team. "Give him fluconazole and a lot of bread. I wanna see this guy drunk."
"I don't think it's ethic-"
"Do it," House insisted. When she didn't move, he followed with, "Come on, Dr. Cameron. Go."
It didn't bother her in the past when House was stern with her. She saw it as a boss doing his job, ordering his employees to do what they were supposed to. But now that her and House were in a very different dynamic, House's acerbity struck her differently. There wasn't much that she could do about it. House couldn't treat her differently because it wouldn't be fair. The ingénue simply tuned away.
"It bothers you, doesn't it," Foreman accused. "Your man treating you like the rest of us. Not changing even for you."
Cameron kept her eyes on the hallway in front of her. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Foreman snorted. "Yeah, sure. I totally believe you." He struck a nerve with her and he knew it. He watched as Cameron quickened her pace down the hallway.
Dr. Cameron slid several strands of hair behind her ears. It flowed down to the middle of her back. She was sure to keep her posture upright as to not show signs of weakness. Don't let it get to you; it's what they want. She opened the door to the patient's room and began her task.
"Good evening, Mr. Donovan." She grabbed her ophthalmoloscope to checked his eyes.
"You're hot." The man stared at her breasts. "Nice tits."
Still raw from the previous month's event, Dr. Cameron pulled up her scrubs to cover the cleavage. She decided to ignore sexist comment. "What have you eaten today?"
"Ummmmmm," Donovan stirred. "Chicken and white rice, a rye sandwich, and lots of these," he pulled out a handful of miniature candy wrappers and sprawled them onto the table.
"I see," Cameron tiled her head. "How do you feel right now?"
"Good." He still had that goofy grin across his face.
High-carb diet. She wrote on her clipboard. She checked his glucose. "I want you to stop eating these," She grabbed the candies. "And you're gonna eat chicken without rice."
"Why? There's nothing wrong with me."
"You have auto-brewery syndrome," House asserted when he walked in. "Your body ferments the carbs you eat and turns it to ethanol. Harmless, really. You're lucky- most of us would need to down five shots to outwardly comment on Dr. Cameron's cleavage."
The brunette glared at him but didn't retort. "You'll be fine, Mr. Donovan. Just a little change in your eating habits." She walked past House and bit her lip.
House didn't understand why Allison was acting so reserved. Sure, he made a comment about her breasts. What was new? He had done that for the last three years she had been working for him. She never minded it before.
Sometimes, House was too oblivious for his own good. Cameron wished he knew. But, instead of getting into an argument that was sure to end with one of or both of them exhausted, she decided not to press the issue. House was House. She didn't think he would change and shouldn't be surprised when he doesn't.
Unlike Cameron, House lacked the need for a censor. "Why the pissy attitude?" He stopped her from walking any further. Sighing outwardly, Cameron turned around to face the gruff doctor. So much for avoiding this conversation, she thought.
"You really don't get it, do you?"
House looked around. "If by it you mean se-"
She placed a hand on his chest and stopped him. "I really want this to work," the hand that had previously been on his chest fell to her side. "But it won't if you keep acting like an ass."
He squinted. "I don't see where-"
Nope. She interrupted him again. "You don't get to talk to me like that anymore. No more sexist comments about my breasts, ass, nothing."
Half of those comments came as second-nature to him. "Would you rather I sexually harass Chase?"
"I'd rather you not sexually harass me. You're gonna start treating me with respect in the workplace." Cameron stared up at his bright, blue eyes. "Is that going to be a problem?" Her words asked a question but her eyes gave him an order.
Commanding Cameron. House likes. "Can I disrespect you in the bedroom?" He smirked.
"No," she rolled her eyes, playfully. "But, I can." She turned and her ponytail flipped around; it bounced as she strutted down the hallway. Her ass swerved slightly.
Damn. House thought. She had him tied around his little finger.