Fiction # 2
Title: Five Hundred
Fandom: 'House, MD'
Pairing/Characters: House/Cameron
Words: 2633
Spoilers: None
Rating: PGish
Summary: Angst; a spark of romance; She's the only one who can help him at this particular moment in time.
Disclaimer: These characters and 'House, MD' are not mine...I'm just playing with them.
A/N: Second fic; written for primer_machine who gave me a set of parameters that I had to follow as a writing challenge.
Five Hundred
He stood awkwardly at the payphone, trying to remember phone numbers of people he could call. People had cell phones with address books these days, so really, who memorized phone numbers anymore? He dialed Wilson first, but got no answer. Sighing deeply, House dialed another number. It rang three times before she answered in a sleepy voice.
“Hello?”
He sighed again and then spoke, “Cameron.”
“House?” Her voice was laced with confusion.
“Yeah.” He replied softly. There was a long pause before he continued speaking, “I need your help.”
“Okay…” her voice trailed off.
Ten minutes later, Dr. Allison Cameron was driving to the Princeton Police Department. She was driving faster than she normally would and her mind was filled with concern. He had called her. She didn’t know why he hadn’t called Wilson to help him, but at this point she wasn’t going to worry about that. Cameron just wanted to get him out of jail. She arrived at the station a short time later and rushed inside. She had changed out of her pajamas and into some jeans and a t-shirt before running out the door. In her hands she carried an official looking medical file and an envelope.
Cameron reached the lobby of the police station and smiled politely at the person sitting behind the desk. “Hi, I’m here to post bail for Dr. Gregory House.”
The woman behind the counter seemed less than amused when she heard the name. “I need you to fill out and sign this form. That will be five hundred dollars, cash.”
Cameron sighed and shook her head, pulling the clipboard with the form on it towards her. She then reached into the envelope she was carrying and counted out $500 in twenties. Thank goodness for 24 hour ATM machines. While the woman behind the counter verified the amount and tapped away at her computer, Cameron filled out the required form and signed it.
“I also have his medical records. I understand his Vicodin has been removed from his possession and he has not been allowed to take any?” She opened the file and flipped through a few pieces of paper.
“So that’s what he was yelling about.” The woman replied dryly. “Anyone who has been arrested gets everything in their possession removed.” Her voice was bored and unsympathetic.
Cameron, with her endless patience, nodded politely and then put on her glasses. “I have documentation in this file that very clearly states that Dr. House is to be taking Vicodin for chronic pain in his right leg.” She paused for dramatic effect and then continued, “It is against medical advice for you to refuse a patient’s medication.” Cameron was lying her ass off, but hey, the woman behind the counter probably didn’t realize.
The woman frowned as she stood up and examined the letter that Cameron held in her hand. It was printed on Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital letterhead and signed with an illegible signature. “Well, you’ve paid his bail so he can be released and have his stuff back.” The woman shrugged her shoulders and disappeared from the desk.
Cameron gave a sigh of relief once the woman had left, pulling off her glasses and putting them away. The letter was a fake. Something she had quickly typed up on her computer at home before running out the door. The signature wasn’t even a name but a mass of handwritten scribble. Even the folder was a fake. She had grabbed it from a stack of empty new patient files on her coffee table.
There was a loud commotion from the hallway. Cameron could hear yelling and a string of obscenities. “Just give me my damn pills!” That distinctive voice could only belong to one Dr. Greg House. He was being ushered down the hallway by a police officer. Cameron rolled her eyes and then fixed a look of concern across her face. She was, after all, here in an official capacity. The officer handed her a box of House’s belongings. “Hey! Why does she get that?” His voice was angry and loud. He was also sweating, looked exhausted, and bleary-eyed.
“How long has he been without his Vicodin?” Cameron asked the officer.
“Too long!” House bellowed.
Cameron frowned and grabbed the box of his belongings. “Thank you.” She nodded to the officer and the woman behind the desk. Gathering up the file she had brought, Cameron shot an annoyed look at House before turning to leave the police station. Once outside in the parking lot she handed him the box and watched as he rifled through it, obviously looking for his Vicodin. “You want to explain to me what happened?” Cameron asked as she climbed into her car.
“No.” He replied, after swallowing two Vicodin pills. He reclined the seat back and closed his eyes, waiting for the drugs to take affect. It was all he could do to not throw up in her car.
“So you called me at three o’clock in the morning, asked me to bring $500 in cash to the police station, which by the way you must pay me back today, had me create a fraudulent document certifying your medical need for prescription Vicodin, and bail you out of jail, but you’re not going to give me an explanation?” Her voice got louder towards the end.
“Relax, I’ll give you the money when we get to my place.” His eyes remained closed.
Cameron gave an exaggerated sigh and maintained her focus on the traffic ahead. It was still dark outside, but early rush hour commuters were starting to gather on the roads. “You’re welcome by the way. And you can forget about asking me to help pick up your car from the impound lot!” She was pissed off.
“You talk too much.” House responded. “And I don’t say ‘Thank you’ under pressure either.” He could feel the Vicodin begin to course through his body and ease the throbbing pain in his right leg. The nausea was still there though and that would probably take awhile to subside. They sat in an awkward silence for several minutes before he broke it with an out-of-the-blue question. “Why?”
“What?” Cameron asked, a look of confusion crossing her features.
“Do you always answer a question with a question?” He opened his eyes and looked at her for a brief moment. When she didn’t say anything in response, House tried again. “Why did you help me?”
“Because you asked me to.” She replied simply.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well, I’m not sure what sort of answer you were looking for.” Cameron shot him a look of annoyance and then shifted her eyes back to the road.
He nodded his head and didn’t say anything else. Cameron continued to stare ahead. She was taking the long route to his place and hoped he wouldn’t notice. It was stupid to hope that though because House never missed a thing. “You should have turned on Griffin Street. Faster.”
“It is?” She asked nonchalantly. More silence. “Why me?” Cameron said finally.
House didn’t say anything but just stared at her with his cerulean blue eyes. She found this intimidating as always and he enjoyed making her uncomfortable. “Why did you call me for help?”
“Because you’re the prettiest.” He replied, without turning his gaze away from her. Cameron rolled her eyes. House smirked. “Wilson didn’t answer his phone, and the only other number I have memorized is an escort agency.”
“Right.” A note of sarcasm tainted her voice. “That’s not an answer.” She was turning his words around on him.
“Nice.” House replied, looking away from her. He could definitely feel the Vicodin now. The ache in his leg was still present, but then it never really left him anyway, no matter how many pills he swallowed. Cameron parked the car in front of his building and got out. She was tired and could really use some more sleep but it didn’t look like that was going to be an option. She stopped herself from looking at him as he struggled to get out of the passenger side of her car. If she’d offered to help him she would have received an earful of insults and sarcasm.
He unlocked the door to his apartment and left the door open behind him. Cameron followed him inside and closed the door quietly. She stood awkwardly in his living room. House had disappeared, so she took the time to look around at her surroundings. The piano was covered in books and medical journals, and there were piles of papers, files, and more medical journals on the floor. Cameron hadn’t moved from her spot by the front door. It was as though she had grown roots. His voice broke through her curious observations. “See anything you like?” He had taken off his jacket and was now clad in a t shirt and jeans.
Cameron gulped slightly and took a moment to respond. “Lots of things.” She said, keeping her answer cryptic.
House nodded. “Drink?” he asked, shuffling into his kitchen.
“Bit early don’t you think?” She replied.
“Water, coffee, soda…” He poked his head around the corner from the kitchen.
“Water, thanks.” Cameron still hadn’t moved.
House pulled two bottles of water from his fridge and hobbled over, handing her one. She took it from him, her fingers brushing lightly against his, causing her to unconsciously shiver. She gave him a quick smile.
“You can sit down if you like.” He said, pointing to the couch. Cameron nodded and finally moved from the spot she had been glued to. Sitting down on one end of the sofa, she unscrewed the cap of her water bottle and quickly drained half its contents. House shot her a look of amusement. Yes, he certainly enjoyed making her uncomfortable. He sat down at the opposite end of the couch and propped his legs up on the coffee table. Once situated, he opened his own bottle of water and chugged it down. He placed the empty bottle on the end table next to him.
Cameron cleared her throat unnecessarily. She was flustered and she knew that House knew that too. “Sooooo, about that $500?” She asked quietly, leaning forward and putting her water bottle on the coffee table.
“Mmmm? Oh right.” House dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out five $100 bills. He reached across the couch and held them out to her, but right as she put out her hand to take them, he snatched them back.
Cameron gave him a puzzled look, wondering what the hell he was up to. “What was that for?” She asked.
“I like watching you squirm.” He replied, a slight twinkle in his eyes.
“Stop flirting with me and give me the damn cash.” She replied, wiggling the fingers of her outstretched arm.
This made him stop for a moment as he contemplated his next move. “Who said I was flirting? And besides, what’s your hurry? It’s Saturday morning. Neither of us have to be at work today.” He held the money in his hand, still out of Cameron’s reach.
“I’m not in the mood to play games with you, House. I’m cranky and I could really use about 4 more hours of sleep, so please just give me the cash and I will be out of your way.” She sighed and leaned over to try and pull the money from his fingers. He moved his hand out of her reach again and grabbed her wrist with his other free hand.
“What are you doing?” She asked nervously. She was much too close to him and she could feel the warmth of his hand on her wrist spreading up her arm and across her body.
“Making you nervous, apparently.” He said with a smirk.
“No really, what is it that you want from me?” She asked again, knowing full well that asking the question a second time was futile. He held on to her wrist, thus not allowing her to move back to her side of the couch.
“I don’t know.” House replied finally. He loosened his grip on her wrist and let his fingers trail slowly up the underside of her arm. Cameron’s skin became raised with goosebumps, and she withdrew her arm, settling back on her side of the couch.
“Don’t toy with me. I’m not here as an amusement. If you can’t respect me enough to give me a real answer then I can’t allow you to mess with my mind.” She looked down at her wrist, where he had been holding her. He was all ready messing with her mind and there was probably nothing she could do about it anyway. It was rapidly approaching the point of no return, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I respect you.” He said, fixing his gaze upon her, watching her intently. House moved the hand with the money and held it out to her. This time he didn’t pull back when she reached for it. He let his fingers brush hers, slowly, almost taunting her to do something. Money in hand, Cameron stood up from the couch, meeting his gaze for a moment. She then turned away from him and began to walk to the front door of the apartment.
“Cameron.” House spoke.
She swiveled on her toes and gave him a questioning look.
“Stay.” His blue eyes were staring at her.
“Why?” She asked softly, the nervousness returning to her voice.
“Because I want you to.” He shrugged his shoulders and struggled to stand up from his couch. He picked up his cane that had been resting against the end table and slowly walked toward her.
Cameron sighed, shoving the cash into her jeans pocket. It was a distraction that she needed to ease the tension in the room. It gave House the time he needed to where he was now standing inches away from her. His proximity startled her when she looked up again. “What are you doing?” She murmured.
“Answering your question.” House replied.
“What question?” Cameron fixed her eyes on him, trying to read his face.
“The one you haven’t asked me yet.” He said, taking a hold of her hand and gently pulling her away from the front door. He led her to his bedroom; she could feel herself becoming more uncertain.
“House…I don’t think that we should…” Cameron began, but House cut her off.
“You said you were tired. And lest we forget, I was in a jail cell and I didn’t get much sleep either. I’m not trying to jump you, although it would be a nice gesture of thanks.” He said with a smirk. Cameron laughed in spite of her nerves and allowed herself to relax a bit. He led her to the left side of the bed and waited for her to get comfortable. He then rested his cane against the nightstand, kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed. They lay together in silence for several minutes, not touching each other, eyes focused on the ceiling.
“You still haven’t told me why you were arrested.” Cameron said in a sleepy voice.
House chuckled softly, a sound Cameron wished she could hear more often.
“What’s the rush?” He asked, turning his head to look at her. He reached across the bed and tugged on her arm. It was his subtle way of asking her to move closer to him. Cameron obliged, shifting her body to lay on her left side, her head on his chest, and her arm across his stomach. House wrapped his arm around her shoulders and watched her. Cameron’s breathing gradually slowed as she fell asleep.
‘No rush at all’ he thought to himself, as he felt sleep begin to claim him.
Fandom: 'House, MD'
Pairing/Characters: House/Cameron
Words: 2633
Spoilers: None
Rating: PGish
Summary: Angst; a spark of romance; She's the only one who can help him at this particular moment in time.
Disclaimer: These characters and 'House, MD' are not mine...I'm just playing with them.
A/N: Second fic; written for primer_machine who gave me a set of parameters that I had to follow as a writing challenge.
Five Hundred
He stood awkwardly at the payphone, trying to remember phone numbers of people he could call. People had cell phones with address books these days, so really, who memorized phone numbers anymore? He dialed Wilson first, but got no answer. Sighing deeply, House dialed another number. It rang three times before she answered in a sleepy voice.
“Hello?”
He sighed again and then spoke, “Cameron.”
“House?” Her voice was laced with confusion.
“Yeah.” He replied softly. There was a long pause before he continued speaking, “I need your help.”
“Okay…” her voice trailed off.
Ten minutes later, Dr. Allison Cameron was driving to the Princeton Police Department. She was driving faster than she normally would and her mind was filled with concern. He had called her. She didn’t know why he hadn’t called Wilson to help him, but at this point she wasn’t going to worry about that. Cameron just wanted to get him out of jail. She arrived at the station a short time later and rushed inside. She had changed out of her pajamas and into some jeans and a t-shirt before running out the door. In her hands she carried an official looking medical file and an envelope.
Cameron reached the lobby of the police station and smiled politely at the person sitting behind the desk. “Hi, I’m here to post bail for Dr. Gregory House.”
The woman behind the counter seemed less than amused when she heard the name. “I need you to fill out and sign this form. That will be five hundred dollars, cash.”
Cameron sighed and shook her head, pulling the clipboard with the form on it towards her. She then reached into the envelope she was carrying and counted out $500 in twenties. Thank goodness for 24 hour ATM machines. While the woman behind the counter verified the amount and tapped away at her computer, Cameron filled out the required form and signed it.
“I also have his medical records. I understand his Vicodin has been removed from his possession and he has not been allowed to take any?” She opened the file and flipped through a few pieces of paper.
“So that’s what he was yelling about.” The woman replied dryly. “Anyone who has been arrested gets everything in their possession removed.” Her voice was bored and unsympathetic.
Cameron, with her endless patience, nodded politely and then put on her glasses. “I have documentation in this file that very clearly states that Dr. House is to be taking Vicodin for chronic pain in his right leg.” She paused for dramatic effect and then continued, “It is against medical advice for you to refuse a patient’s medication.” Cameron was lying her ass off, but hey, the woman behind the counter probably didn’t realize.
The woman frowned as she stood up and examined the letter that Cameron held in her hand. It was printed on Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital letterhead and signed with an illegible signature. “Well, you’ve paid his bail so he can be released and have his stuff back.” The woman shrugged her shoulders and disappeared from the desk.
Cameron gave a sigh of relief once the woman had left, pulling off her glasses and putting them away. The letter was a fake. Something she had quickly typed up on her computer at home before running out the door. The signature wasn’t even a name but a mass of handwritten scribble. Even the folder was a fake. She had grabbed it from a stack of empty new patient files on her coffee table.
There was a loud commotion from the hallway. Cameron could hear yelling and a string of obscenities. “Just give me my damn pills!” That distinctive voice could only belong to one Dr. Greg House. He was being ushered down the hallway by a police officer. Cameron rolled her eyes and then fixed a look of concern across her face. She was, after all, here in an official capacity. The officer handed her a box of House’s belongings. “Hey! Why does she get that?” His voice was angry and loud. He was also sweating, looked exhausted, and bleary-eyed.
“How long has he been without his Vicodin?” Cameron asked the officer.
“Too long!” House bellowed.
Cameron frowned and grabbed the box of his belongings. “Thank you.” She nodded to the officer and the woman behind the desk. Gathering up the file she had brought, Cameron shot an annoyed look at House before turning to leave the police station. Once outside in the parking lot she handed him the box and watched as he rifled through it, obviously looking for his Vicodin. “You want to explain to me what happened?” Cameron asked as she climbed into her car.
“No.” He replied, after swallowing two Vicodin pills. He reclined the seat back and closed his eyes, waiting for the drugs to take affect. It was all he could do to not throw up in her car.
“So you called me at three o’clock in the morning, asked me to bring $500 in cash to the police station, which by the way you must pay me back today, had me create a fraudulent document certifying your medical need for prescription Vicodin, and bail you out of jail, but you’re not going to give me an explanation?” Her voice got louder towards the end.
“Relax, I’ll give you the money when we get to my place.” His eyes remained closed.
Cameron gave an exaggerated sigh and maintained her focus on the traffic ahead. It was still dark outside, but early rush hour commuters were starting to gather on the roads. “You’re welcome by the way. And you can forget about asking me to help pick up your car from the impound lot!” She was pissed off.
“You talk too much.” House responded. “And I don’t say ‘Thank you’ under pressure either.” He could feel the Vicodin begin to course through his body and ease the throbbing pain in his right leg. The nausea was still there though and that would probably take awhile to subside. They sat in an awkward silence for several minutes before he broke it with an out-of-the-blue question. “Why?”
“What?” Cameron asked, a look of confusion crossing her features.
“Do you always answer a question with a question?” He opened his eyes and looked at her for a brief moment. When she didn’t say anything in response, House tried again. “Why did you help me?”
“Because you asked me to.” She replied simply.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well, I’m not sure what sort of answer you were looking for.” Cameron shot him a look of annoyance and then shifted her eyes back to the road.
He nodded his head and didn’t say anything else. Cameron continued to stare ahead. She was taking the long route to his place and hoped he wouldn’t notice. It was stupid to hope that though because House never missed a thing. “You should have turned on Griffin Street. Faster.”
“It is?” She asked nonchalantly. More silence. “Why me?” Cameron said finally.
House didn’t say anything but just stared at her with his cerulean blue eyes. She found this intimidating as always and he enjoyed making her uncomfortable. “Why did you call me for help?”
“Because you’re the prettiest.” He replied, without turning his gaze away from her. Cameron rolled her eyes. House smirked. “Wilson didn’t answer his phone, and the only other number I have memorized is an escort agency.”
“Right.” A note of sarcasm tainted her voice. “That’s not an answer.” She was turning his words around on him.
“Nice.” House replied, looking away from her. He could definitely feel the Vicodin now. The ache in his leg was still present, but then it never really left him anyway, no matter how many pills he swallowed. Cameron parked the car in front of his building and got out. She was tired and could really use some more sleep but it didn’t look like that was going to be an option. She stopped herself from looking at him as he struggled to get out of the passenger side of her car. If she’d offered to help him she would have received an earful of insults and sarcasm.
He unlocked the door to his apartment and left the door open behind him. Cameron followed him inside and closed the door quietly. She stood awkwardly in his living room. House had disappeared, so she took the time to look around at her surroundings. The piano was covered in books and medical journals, and there were piles of papers, files, and more medical journals on the floor. Cameron hadn’t moved from her spot by the front door. It was as though she had grown roots. His voice broke through her curious observations. “See anything you like?” He had taken off his jacket and was now clad in a t shirt and jeans.
Cameron gulped slightly and took a moment to respond. “Lots of things.” She said, keeping her answer cryptic.
House nodded. “Drink?” he asked, shuffling into his kitchen.
“Bit early don’t you think?” She replied.
“Water, coffee, soda…” He poked his head around the corner from the kitchen.
“Water, thanks.” Cameron still hadn’t moved.
House pulled two bottles of water from his fridge and hobbled over, handing her one. She took it from him, her fingers brushing lightly against his, causing her to unconsciously shiver. She gave him a quick smile.
“You can sit down if you like.” He said, pointing to the couch. Cameron nodded and finally moved from the spot she had been glued to. Sitting down on one end of the sofa, she unscrewed the cap of her water bottle and quickly drained half its contents. House shot her a look of amusement. Yes, he certainly enjoyed making her uncomfortable. He sat down at the opposite end of the couch and propped his legs up on the coffee table. Once situated, he opened his own bottle of water and chugged it down. He placed the empty bottle on the end table next to him.
Cameron cleared her throat unnecessarily. She was flustered and she knew that House knew that too. “Sooooo, about that $500?” She asked quietly, leaning forward and putting her water bottle on the coffee table.
“Mmmm? Oh right.” House dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out five $100 bills. He reached across the couch and held them out to her, but right as she put out her hand to take them, he snatched them back.
Cameron gave him a puzzled look, wondering what the hell he was up to. “What was that for?” She asked.
“I like watching you squirm.” He replied, a slight twinkle in his eyes.
“Stop flirting with me and give me the damn cash.” She replied, wiggling the fingers of her outstretched arm.
This made him stop for a moment as he contemplated his next move. “Who said I was flirting? And besides, what’s your hurry? It’s Saturday morning. Neither of us have to be at work today.” He held the money in his hand, still out of Cameron’s reach.
“I’m not in the mood to play games with you, House. I’m cranky and I could really use about 4 more hours of sleep, so please just give me the cash and I will be out of your way.” She sighed and leaned over to try and pull the money from his fingers. He moved his hand out of her reach again and grabbed her wrist with his other free hand.
“What are you doing?” She asked nervously. She was much too close to him and she could feel the warmth of his hand on her wrist spreading up her arm and across her body.
“Making you nervous, apparently.” He said with a smirk.
“No really, what is it that you want from me?” She asked again, knowing full well that asking the question a second time was futile. He held on to her wrist, thus not allowing her to move back to her side of the couch.
“I don’t know.” House replied finally. He loosened his grip on her wrist and let his fingers trail slowly up the underside of her arm. Cameron’s skin became raised with goosebumps, and she withdrew her arm, settling back on her side of the couch.
“Don’t toy with me. I’m not here as an amusement. If you can’t respect me enough to give me a real answer then I can’t allow you to mess with my mind.” She looked down at her wrist, where he had been holding her. He was all ready messing with her mind and there was probably nothing she could do about it anyway. It was rapidly approaching the point of no return, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I respect you.” He said, fixing his gaze upon her, watching her intently. House moved the hand with the money and held it out to her. This time he didn’t pull back when she reached for it. He let his fingers brush hers, slowly, almost taunting her to do something. Money in hand, Cameron stood up from the couch, meeting his gaze for a moment. She then turned away from him and began to walk to the front door of the apartment.
“Cameron.” House spoke.
She swiveled on her toes and gave him a questioning look.
“Stay.” His blue eyes were staring at her.
“Why?” She asked softly, the nervousness returning to her voice.
“Because I want you to.” He shrugged his shoulders and struggled to stand up from his couch. He picked up his cane that had been resting against the end table and slowly walked toward her.
Cameron sighed, shoving the cash into her jeans pocket. It was a distraction that she needed to ease the tension in the room. It gave House the time he needed to where he was now standing inches away from her. His proximity startled her when she looked up again. “What are you doing?” She murmured.
“Answering your question.” House replied.
“What question?” Cameron fixed her eyes on him, trying to read his face.
“The one you haven’t asked me yet.” He said, taking a hold of her hand and gently pulling her away from the front door. He led her to his bedroom; she could feel herself becoming more uncertain.
“House…I don’t think that we should…” Cameron began, but House cut her off.
“You said you were tired. And lest we forget, I was in a jail cell and I didn’t get much sleep either. I’m not trying to jump you, although it would be a nice gesture of thanks.” He said with a smirk. Cameron laughed in spite of her nerves and allowed herself to relax a bit. He led her to the left side of the bed and waited for her to get comfortable. He then rested his cane against the nightstand, kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed. They lay together in silence for several minutes, not touching each other, eyes focused on the ceiling.
“You still haven’t told me why you were arrested.” Cameron said in a sleepy voice.
House chuckled softly, a sound Cameron wished she could hear more often.
“What’s the rush?” He asked, turning his head to look at her. He reached across the bed and tugged on her arm. It was his subtle way of asking her to move closer to him. Cameron obliged, shifting her body to lay on her left side, her head on his chest, and her arm across his stomach. House wrapped his arm around her shoulders and watched her. Cameron’s breathing gradually slowed as she fell asleep.
‘No rush at all’ he thought to himself, as he felt sleep begin to claim him.