Insomnia-Part 3-The next morning

Aug 27, 2006 15:59

The next morning Cameron woke up gradually. The slumber had felt like a nap from her childhood. Soothing, healing, and completely tension relieiving in a way that made little sense. The aftermath of this slumber was still tingling pleasantly in her eyelids; light and unburdened.

Her bedroom was glowing with the sunlight of early afternoon. What time was it? She checked her alarm clock. It was almost noon! She rolled her body across the bed to reach her end table. She thought her pager would be lit up with pages from work. But it was grey and silent.

Her mind came to an awkward cornered pause and flipped itself. House was here last night. She had assumed he would leave and to her great relief she didn't remember anything wily or unwarranted happening.

Her head was still spinning. She was coming down from the Nyquil. Her mouth was dry. She wobbled out of her bed and weaved a bit uncertainly down the hallway leading to the front room.

All the creme yellow pillows on her couch were thrown here and there. A few had fallen on the floor underneath her coffee table. The door to her apartment opened. She felt herself jump a little inside but relaxed when she saw it was House. He had his black sunglasses on, toothpick dangling out of his mouth, and two white paper bags clustered in his left hand. He shut the door with a push of his cane.

When he turned and saw her, his face mellowed a bit, and his toothpick oscillated silly and he crinkled out the word "Breakfast."

Cameron bent over and picked up some pillows, threw them on the couch and took the bags suppressing a smile. She wanted to prepare herself for his immature and awkward banter. But she was a little distracted by the buttery smell wafting from the bag. Perhaps it was worth a look. She headed for the kitchen with a yawn.

House stood for a moment a bit speechless and out of his head. He toyed with the toothpick on one side of his cheek. Then took it out of his mouth and observed it as it twirled in between his forefinger and thumb. Cameron stopped when she didn't hear him coming.

"Thanks," Cameron said, indicating the bags with a small raise. "You coming in?"

"I slept on the couch," House said trying for normality. He felt so awkward. He was never comfortable with himself after doing something nice.

Cameron knew this fact keenly but decided to ignore confronting him about it. It would only make him feel more out of place and have him running out the door faster than the speed of light.

Cameron ran her hand through her hair shoving it past her ear. All the tangles she felt in her hair made her feel so unkempt. She felt a little less messy when House took off his sunglasses, rubbed his eyes, and ran his hand through some scruffy hair. He looked a little mangy too. He cocked his jaw. Was he waiting for her to say it was okay to come in?

"Come on. I don't like leaving stray dogs hungry on my door way," Cameron said. She turned around and headed to the kitchen hoping he would follow. House exhaled relieved. She wasn't going to make things too difficult, he at least hoped. House followed her at a distance.

Cameron plopped the bags on the kitchen counter, opened one up and brought out a large lumpy package wrapped in white butcher paper. It had the word B on it and was warm.

"Burrito?" Cameron asked herself, a little wary.

"Si, Burrito mucho largo, huevos con asada. That would be mine," House said.

She raised her eyebrows and tried remaining unscathed from his menu choice.

"I don't care for Mexican, at least, not first thing in the morning," she said.

House took out the little plastic cups of salsa at the bottom of his bag, the napkins, leaned his cane against the counter out of sight, and grabbed a seat to sit down.

"Well, that's good because you aren't eating my burrito," House said.

House noticed Cameron wasn't looking forward to what would be in the other bag. He unfolded a napkin carefully into a large square and set a little place for himself.

"Look in the bag," he said while unfolding his super burrito from its paper. Cameron quirked a small twisted grin. With the curiousity and agility of a cat, she dipped her hands into the bag and looked at what was inside. It was a saucer shaped container, with a foil bottom and white hard tab covering it. She brought out the odd container and delicately lifted off the tab.

"Quiche?" Cameron said pleasantly surprised. Juicy plump bacon shards stuck out of the egg custard pie at awkward angles while spinach was marbled throughout it. It smelled exquisite and was the source of the buttery smell.

"Odd...how did you know I liked it?" Cameron asked.

House cut into the middle of his oversized burrito with a plastic knife. Immediately egg, steak and refried beans oozed out of the monster. House stuck his thumb into the beans tasting it and smiled with recognition of the zesty spiciness he loved. He sucked it off his thumb with a pop. Cameron's head shrunk back a little. She chuckled.

"You order it from the cafeteria at work every Friday for lunch. But you never finish it. You just pick at it. I came to the conclusion you liked quiche just not the hospital quiche. I knew a place. Don't worry. You'll like this one," he said.

"You know there are laws against stalking, right?" Cameron asked. House tensed his neck a bit. He picked up half of his burrito.

"What are you waiting for? Sit down and eat," House said.

Cameron's head shook a little. "Why aren't you at work?" she asked.

It just occurred to her. House chewed his burrito for a bit. He got up and walked over to the fridge.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, dodging the issue. The light from the refrigerator made his eyes steely.

"Milk. House?" she asked again. She strained over the dryness in her throat. Finally, she took a seat and took out a few napkins from the bag.

"I didn't feel given the circumstances of your health that it would be fair and wise to ask you to come in." House brought the milk to the counter. Cameron pointed to the cupboard where the glassese were at. He leaned hard on his cane and reached for the cupboard above the counter.

She felt an urge to help him but fought against the desire.

"That still doesn't explain why you are here," she said all too polite. House brought down two green plastic glasses. House paused. He stood in place, looked up and away, and thought about the question too deeply.

"Could be random chance, could be divine intervention, but most likely, we all like sex too much," House said. Cameron cut into her quiche with her plastic fork and knife. She nodded her head perturbed.

"You really are contemptible. You know that?" Cameron asked.

House opened his mouth to answer the supposed question. She put her hand in the air to stop him. "Just don't answer that, House. I'll let you put me through the displeasure of rephrasing the question," she said and then added, "Eventually."

"Oh, why bother? I enjoy dodging too much." He poured her some milk. She ate some quiche and perked her head up a little.

"This is really good. Where did you-?" Cameron asked.

"Get it? Secret," he said smiling. Cameron rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on. Does everything with you have to be a mystery? Can't you just show yourself and be comfortable with that? Or is the James Bond thing just too attractive to your ego?" she asked angry. She went back to eating her quiche a little miffed.

House sat down. His eyebrows went a little flat and his forehead crinkled. He unzipped his jacket and took out a small silver flask. He poured some brown liquid into his glass. Cameron pretended to ignore the liquor even though House could see she was eyeing it a bit worried.

"I don't do shows and every man wants to be James Bond." He drank a little, sucked back his lips and hissed through his teeth. "Good whiskey!" Cameron put down her fork and knife on top of the quiche. House went back to eating his burrito. He was chewing trying to act casual about this whole thing.

Cameron felt a little pain in her chest rise up. "Why won't you let me in? I mean, am I that terrifying?" she exclaimed. She was surprised at her frankness with him. Her self-awareness of herself became a little uneasy for a moment. "And don't tell me its because I'll hurt you or you'll hurt me."

House glanced at her for a moment, swallowed his food, and popped a salsa cup with a large snap of his thumb. He poured it onto his burrito. His voice became a little quiet.

"Did you ever think I already let you in?" House asked. His eyes were stoic but solid with truth. Cameron was a bit speechless. The unexpected turn in the conversation was throwing her for a loop.

"Yes, but-" She tried to say something but felt her nerves seize her throat.

"I won't admit it so-"

"So." Cameron said dumbfounded.

House bit into his burrito where a large mound of salsa was on it. Cameron was still in shock.

"You're quiche is getting cold. You better eat it," House said. He smiled roguish at her and continued eating. Slowly, Cameron took a little bit of bacon off of her quiche. What had just happened? she wondered. Did he reach out again just so he could dash away from her when it suited him best?

After a while, House spoke. "I told Cuddy, you were ill and that you needed a week off of work." Cameron compressed her lips and was a bit angry. She would probably have been angrier if he had held back on that information any longer than that moment. She took a swig of milk.

"You had no right to do that," Cameron said cold.

"You won't lose your vacation days. Its a temporary leave of absence," he said gruff. He didn't meet her eyes. There was something else...

"That's irrelevant," she said.

House's eyes brightened up a little crazy. "Actually, I thought it was a nice thought."

"I'm not stupid House, and you certainly aren't generally nice. I know you somehow bushwhackled Cuddy into believing you had to be my private nursemaid so you could get a week off of work, too."

"Clinic," House said while sucking salsa from his fingers. "Though more accurately, I took my vacation days," House said a bit poignant. He wrapped up what was left of his burrito and put it into his bag. Cameron's mouth opened wide and her eyes became like saucers. What?! Allison Cameron thought.

"So, I am at your service for a week," House said, trying to sound professional. "Lucky woman, there are a lot of people who would pay good money for my care." He tightened his face up and looked at Cameron like she gone insane. "You can close your mouth." Cameron shut her mouth after a moment. She gulped a little. Was he toying with her?

"So, what do you want to do this week?" House asked Cameron.

"House this is so-"

"Well, we certainly aren't staying in here all day waiting for you to come down off Nyquil," he said.

"House I should get some things done around the apartment and you should go home and..." House nodded his head.

"Not happening," House said. "You are a sick woman who needs twenty-four hour medical care."
Cameron laughed a little nervously. "At least, that's what Cuddy told me to tell you."

"Based on a lie," Cameron said.
House shrugged and leaned back in the chair.

"What is this all about really?" she asked him.

His eyes twinkled a little bit. "Maybe nothing."

Another game, she thought. But this time, for some reason, she felt up to the challenge.

"Alright," Cameron said, taking House's glass of whiskey. He looked at her a bit surprised. He saw the tables being turned on him a bit and reflexively he flinched a little. She took a sip of the whiskey. It was strong but she was able to take it down without too much trouble.

"I'll go along with this...if you promise to let me decide what we are going to do this week," Cameron said pointing at him.

"Its my vacation too. I might have a few plans," House said.

"You said you were at my service, but I might give you a day to do what you want," Cameron said tightly. She finished downing the whiskey and House smirked.
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