Stalking in the Serengeti
A.N. Chapter 69. No sex. Sorry. If it's any consolation, there is sex pencilled in on the calendar, but we ain't there yet.
The diagnosticians were finishing up their initial differential the following Tuesday. Foreman had assumed his usual position at the head of the table, as if to subtly suggest dominance over his colleagues. Chase and Cameron occupied the chairs to the side. All three had a copy of the case file on the table before them, flicking through it to check the patient notes sent over from Holy Cross hospital. House was at the whiteboard listing and striking off suggestions as they arose from his team. There was a fair bit of ink but not many concrete options.
"Hepatitis A?", suggested Cameron.
"Serologies are negative", stated Foreman. "I'd suggest garden variety appendicitis, but he's been in pain for a few days, and you'd think it would have ruptured by now".
"Hmm. Hepatic fibrosis also fits", Chase added, running a hand through his surfer blonde hair.
"And lead poisoning", returned Cameron, glancing once more through the report. "They didn't do a metals screening at Holy Cross".
"I'm liking Wombat's suggestion more, if only because we've had a poisoning case fairly recently and the odds of a second one in quick succession are slim, but it can't hurt to cover both. Liver angiogram to check for fibrosis and a heavy metals test". House circled their choices before spinning the marker between his fingers. As he did so, he glimpsed Wilson wandering past the department with Mathilde beside him. They looked happy. Time for a spot of reconnaissance. "What are you three still doing here?", he said, suddenly noticing that no one had moved. "Carry out my orders, double stat".
The three fellows filed out. Cameron had not seen Wilson from her position at the table, but she had spotted a sly look come over her partner's face. After several years of working attentively under House, and now with a few months' romantic experience up close as well, she considered herself a proficient interpreter of the man's moods. Only Cuddy and Wilson surpassed her expertise, though even they likely did not appreciate the tiny signals that only love's curiosity noticed: the flash of a glance, the twitch of a lip, the dart of a tongue. House was up to something. Rather than question him directly, though, she decided to leave him to it. No doubt the reason for his expression would become clear at some point. Besides, there was a patient to treat.
House gave his quarry a few moments' head start. Cameron had told him a while ago that his espionage skills left a lot to be desired. Improvements had been made in method, and he was fairly confident that Wilson would be none the wiser. The first step was to observe from afar his prey in their natural habitat. Then, once he had got a feel for their routine, he would move in for a closer look. In practice, this would entail questioning of Mathilde especially, since he already knew his best friend's own motivation. House, however, was self-aware enough to acknowledge his effect on strangers: something about him encouraged suspicion and/or mild animosity in most people. And Mathilde was likely to be on guard in any case since Wilson must have warned her already to expect a visit.
As House left the department and followed a way behind the oblivious couple, being sure to keep a number of doctors and patients between them, he thought briefly on a plan of action. The ideal was a face-to-face interview, but depending on the woman's preparedness, it may be necessary to enlist help. To his knowledge, Mathilde had never met Cameron; or at least, never been introduced to her. House paused in the corridor, allowing a gurney to hurtle past. Up ahead, the pair skirted the corner, causing the chaser to put on a burst of speed. Just in time he saw them head up the stairs to radiology.
For the next fifteen minutes, House was led on a merry chase around the hospital. If he didn't know any better, he'd think they were aware of his shadowing and doing it on purpose. But House also knew that Wilson liked to spend his mid-morning break having a stroll. So, there was a good chance that this was simply the route he favoured. In any case, the nephrologist kept pace until Mathilde diverted at the nurses' station. No kiss goodbye. This was understandable—the hospital was accepting of relationships but strongly discouraged public displays of affection. Rather than head straight back to oncology, Wilson turned 180 degrees and waved at House with a cheeky grin. The latter merely scowled back. Rumbled. Time for Plan B.
The next morning the diagnosticians were at the whiteboard again. "Lead poisoning is out. The heavy metals scan is clear", said Foreman, glancing around the table.
"And arrhythmia and elevated LFTs rule out hepatic fibrosis", added Cameron.
"So…heart and stomach", mused House, pen in hand.
"Gastritis? No, only explains the stomach not the heart". Chase.
"And atrial fibrillation explains the heart but not the stomach". Foreman.
"What about Legionnaire's? We'd need to take a look at his apartment to be sure, but the symptoms fit if we allow for the pneumonia being hidden behind acute dehydration and fever". Cameron's suggestion brought nods from her colleagues, and they waited for their boss to complete his own internal process.
"I like it", said House finally. "Cameron and Foreman go to his place and look for a ramshackle air conditioner or something. Remember to check under the sink. And take a couple of spare petri dishes for good measure".
"And me?", asked Chase, slightly perturbed at the prospect of having nothing to do.
"You're gonna help me scan the dude's brain. Might need your burly Australian cattle-handler shoulders to keep him steady".
"But Legionnaire's has nothing to do with the brain", interjected Foreman.
"Holy crap, you're right. Fine, I just have a real yen for seeing a man's brain scan. I try and do one brain a week, y'know, to keep me regular. You lot should try it. Let's go, skippy. Papa House has things to do".
What his fellows didn't know was that Mathilde was posted to neurology for the entire day. When he had been scoping Cameron out months ago, House found that observing her performance had been useful. Obviously, the nurse worked on rotation, and she was required to help out if necessary. It would be interesting to judge how Chase and Mathilde interacted at close quarters, when there was an important job to complete, because it would give clues towards her feelings for Wilson. Would she be professional and kind, demanding, or maybe cold? Would she try and catch Chase's eye? Information was needed, and this was an efficient way to gather it while also treating their patient. Sort of.
"How did you know he was schizophrenic?", asked Foreman that evening. The four doctors were regrouping in the department, the patient having been successfully diagnosed twenty minutes prior.
"Spidey sense" replied House shortly, heading to the adjoining door. "If that's everything, I'm going to work on my paper and/or watch porn in my office. Cameron, wanna come with?".
"Err, I mean, not really". The woman glanced over from the sink where she had been washing up their dirty coffee mugs.
"Come on, it'll be fun. We don't have to watch girl on girl. I can stick in a bit of manlove if it'll make you feel better about the whole thing". There was a weird look on his face again.
Cameron sighed. "Fine, you get it started and I'll be along after I've finished these".
Foreman and Chase merely rolled their eyes and waved their goodbyes. As they were beginning to learn with House and Cameron, sometimes it was better just to get the hell out of the way if you wanted to stay sane. House glanced at his watch and quickly entered his office, perching on the easy chair by the door and maintaining a clear sightline to the corridor.
Cameron entered a minute or two later. "I don't see much sexy hot action going on, to be honest. Not that I'm complaining".
"I just said that to get Beavis and Butt-Head out of here. I have a job for you".
"Is it an actual job, or a stupid errand that only you would think constitutes an acceptable use of my time?", she inquired, hands on hips.
"OK, now you're just making up words, you silly sausage. Right, listen carefully. Wilson is looking to do the dirty with Mathilde-".
"-so, a stupid errand, then".
"Anyway", continued House, "I tried following them yesterday, and again today, but unfortunately they were wise to my plans-".
"-do you think it's because your espionage skills are just really, really bad?", interjected Cameron again.
"It's difficult to impart my instructions when you keep butting in, Lissie", stated the man pointedly.
Cameron smirked but remained silent.
"As I was saying", he continued once he was sure she was going to remain quiet, "the happy couple are on to me. Which means that I need my beautiful assistant to jump in and take up the hunt".
"You can't be serious".
"Actually, I can. In fact, I'm deadly serious". House winked at the other, intentionally imitating one of her lines from Friday.
Cameron blushed, but soon found a retort. "Not sure how I feel about spying on people. Why have I got to share in your insanity?".
"Because, my dear Camster, we are together. And I would be much happier knowing exactly who is about to stick their claws into my best friend. This is what being in a relationship entails—we average our happiness".
"Average our misery, more like", she muttered.
"That's the spirit. Now, let's get to it: Mathilde is due to wander down this corridor in…", he glanced at his wristwatch, "…fifty-three seconds. I need you to befriend her. You know the kind of thing that women like to talk about: boybands, the president, cup sizes...".
"Have you ever actually spoken to a member of the opposite sex who wasn't a hooker?", she mused.
"Well, I only speak to you, Cuddy, and my mom. Cuddy, with that rack, it makes complete sense she is one; my mom…though it pains me to say it, I wouldn't be at all surprised; and you…God, please say you are". House got up and gazed at his partner with a new appreciation.
Cameron raised an eyebrow. "You like the idea of me having been with loads of guys before settling on you?".
"Ahh, yes, now that you mention it, you're right. Scratch that. What were we talking about? Mathilde, yeah. Just, I dunno, see if you can be nice, and when you think the time is right probe for some Wilson news".
"But surely Wilson will have told her that we're together? I don't think this plan is going to work", she replied doubtfully.
House waved a hand. "Nah, it'll be fine. Wilson forgets what to say around attractive women, so he probably neglected to mention it. Play it casual, but not too casual; be interested in what she says but remember that you're there to do a job".
"This is ridiculous, House. I suck at spying". Cameron was an honest person by nature, and she disliked going into a new social encounter with an ulterior motive. She and House were dissimilar in that respect: when he had asked her to side-track the gold-poisoning woman last year, her stumbled words did not do the job. Luckily, he'd arrived on the scene soon after and cornered the woman in the bathroom before she could wash away the evidence of her crime.
"No, no, you're gonna be great, honestly. Think of yourself as Jane Bond". He placed a hand on each of her shoulders, before brushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "I really need you here. Help me, Obi-Cam Kenobi; you're my only hope".
Cameron's tension fled with House's sorry attempt at humour. "Thanks to you, sir, I know the origin of that quote. I feel disgusted with myself".
House grinned. "As long as you're not disgusted with me, I'm fine with that. Mathilde's gonna be here any second, so get your stalker face on".
"You're a freak, Greg".
"No arguments there. Off you go—do me proud! I'll be waiting right here for your report". With that, he shepherded his reluctant secret agent out into the corridor while he took up position at his desk, pretending to work nonchalantly.
'Jane Bond' returned within forty-five seconds.
"That was fas-".
"-she told me: 'no offence, Dr. Cameron, but fuck off'".
"Did you open with the president or cup sizes?".
"Neither. But I don't think that's why my approach failed".
House nodded thoughtfully, processing the information. "This gazelle is good. We'll need to marshal the full powers of our combined cunning to catch her. Wilson is messing with us".
"Actually, House, he's messing with you". Cameron flopped into the chair opposite the desk and picked up his cricket ball, lobbing it over.
"You're right", he nodded again, catching it before returning the throw. The two played catch for a few moments. "It's a mad world in the Serengeti. If you want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself".