Disclaimer: I do not under any circumstances own House.
A/N: Oddly enough, this whole plotline came out of a dream I had. This is my first fic, so this is all pretty experimental for me. And I'm still trying to figure out all this uploading of documents thing.
CHAPTER 1
Dr. Allison Cameron walked into Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital ready for her interview. Oh, she'd heard the horror stories about Dr. House, but she wasn't afraid. Nope, not at all.
While standing in front of the Dean of Medicine's office, Cameron tried wiping her sweaty palms against her black skirt. She tapped her toe, the tempo picking up as the minutes went by. A woman walked up next to her and flashed her a smile. Cameron was immediately struck by the woman's beauty. She self-consciously tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, jealous of the woman's straight, thick hair.
"I haven't seen you around here before, have I?" the woman asked, tucking a file under her arm. Her voice was warm and calm, which, Cameron guessed, could only be expected from someone that looked like her.
"No, I'm afraid not. I'm here for an interview," Cameron replied, returning the woman's smile. She desperately tried to ignore the slight waver in her voice.
"Do you mind if I ask with who?" The woman continued smiling, but Cameron noticed how it subtly changed. It would have been unnoticeable to most people, yet Cameron couldn't miss the sudden hint of condescension.
"Not at all. I'm interviewing with Dr. House, actually." The woman's smile grew, and the twinkle in her eye only enhanced her easy elegance.
"I'm sorry," she said. Cameron was slightly confused now, and her hands unconsciously started to tap her thighs.
"What for?"
"Haven't you heard all the horror stories?" The woman's interest in Cameron had definitely been piqued.
"Of course I have. They're kind of hard to miss." Cameron crossed her arms over her chest, trying her best to sound nonchalant.
"And they don't scare you?" The woman asked, mirroring Cameron's pose.
"No," Cameron said, shrugging.
"He'll like you, then," the woman said as the door to Dr. Cuddy's office opened.
"Dr. Cameron?" Dr. Cuddy asked. Well, Cameron assumed she was Dr. Cuddy. "Stacy? You're not giving her any insider information, are you?"
"Now, would I do that, Lisa?" Stacy said, trying her best to look innocent.
"Insider information?" Cameron asked, failing to put the pieces together.
"This is Dr. House's wife, Stacy House. She's also the hospital's lawyer."
"Oh," was all Cameron could come up with.
"Good luck, Dr. Cameron," Stacy said. She handed Dr. Cuddy a folder. "I'll need you to take a look at this whenever you can, Lisa." With a smile and a wave, she left. Cameron watched the woman go, desperately wishing that she could afford clothes like that. Oh well, no use wishing for what you couldn't have, right? Maybe she'd just lust after those shoes then…
"Dr. Cameron?" Dr. Cuddy asked. Cameron tore her gaze away from Stacy House and turned to Dr. Cuddy.
"Yes," she replied just a tad too cheerily.
"I'm Dr. Cuddy." The two shook hands. "Now, I'm going to take you up to Dr. House's office." Cuddy started walking, and Cameron had to hurry to catch up. "I'm very impressed with your resume, Dr. Cameron. We'd love to have you here at the hospital, but you have to understand that Dr. House is very difficult to work for."
"I understand that," Cameron said, following Cuddy into the elevator.
"I'm afraid you don't," Cuddy countered, smiling condescendingly at Cameron. Cameron knew Cuddy wasn't trying to be condescending, just like Stacy wasn't, but it frustrated her all the same. What was it about Dr. House that had everyone around him act as if they knew something she didn't? I mean, I've heard all of the stories: the infarction, the yelling, the mocking, and the illegal activities… Cameron thought while she followed Cuddy out of the elevator and into the hallway. They approached Dr. House's door in silence.
"Good luck, Dr. Cameron," Cuddy said, holding open the door to Dr. House's office. "House, be nice!" she admonished the man inside. Cameron held her breath as she stepped inside. There were two men sitting there. How was she supposed to know which one was Dr. House? Then she noticed the cane. The man holding it was staring at her intently, and Cameron's breath caught in her throat when their gazes locked. He had the most magnificent blue eyes she'd ever seen. Dr. House raised an eyebrow and continued to hold her gaze.
The other man cleared his throat loudly. "I'm Dr. James Wilson," he said, standing up to shake Cameron's hand.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Dr. Allison Cameron," she said, smiling. Dr. Wilson seemed nice enough. "Dr. House, I presume?" Cameron asked, turning to the diagnostician, who still hadn't said a word. When he made no move to shake her hand, Cameron sat in the chair in front of his desk.
"I just met your wife, Stacy," she said.
"I don't have a wife," Dr. House replied, leaning back in his chair.
'Well, I'm relieved. She was just too hideous for words, and I wasn't sure what I was going to say after that." Dr. Wilson turned to Cameron, the shock he felt clearly evident in his facial expression.
"She's Wilson's wife, Dr. Cameron. You should watch what you say," Dr. House said, reaching for a baseball that was lying on his desk. Cameron's comment apparently had no affect on him.
"No, she's not," Cameron replied in a singsong voice.
"Oh? And how do you know that?" Dr. House asked, throwing his baseball up in the air. Cameron gave him a look.
"Her picture is on your desk," Cameron said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair. House snorted, throwing the baseball up into the air again.
"How'd you know that?" Wilson asked. "You didn't have a chance to see it."
"Well, I was bluffing, actually, but since you fell for it…" Cameron answered Wilson, but was staring at House. His lips had pursed slightly, and she would have sworn there was amusement in his eyes.
"You're hired," House announced, throwing the ball up once more.
Cameron stepped into the small apartment that she shared with her husband. She put her keys down on the kitchen counter, straining to hear any noise. There it was. Click clickclick click clickclick. He was typing, as usual, in the little room that passed for his office.
"Honey?" she called out, her voice little above a whisper.
"Hmm?" he replied, continuing to type.
"I got the job," Cameron said, her voice rising a little.
"That's good," he said. But he didn't turn around, or stop typing.
"We're going to have to move to Princeton." That got his attention for a second. His fingers paused above the keys before he replied.
"Okay, but you're going to have to find the place." Then he just continued to type.
"My boss seems interesting," she said, taking a step into the room. Her husband just grunted in response. "Yes. In fact, we had hot, steamy sex on top of his desk after he gave me the job."
"That's great," he said. Cameron sighed and left the room. She was just going to make dinner, read a medical journal, and then go to bed.
She and her husband had been married for ten years. Sometimes it was hard to wrap her head around that idea, but they'd married so young. At the time, though, they both thought he was dying. He'd had cancer, and they'd been so in love that it only seemed to make sense to get married. As a twenty-one year old, that made perfect sense. At thirty-one? Not so much.
But her husband had miraculously survived cancer, and after that he changed. In all fairness, so had Cameron, but the change was most pronounced in Will. He had given up the idea of becoming a lawyer and decided to follow his dream to be a novelist. At first Cameron had been more than happy to support his decision. She had become used to the idea that she would be the breadwinner. But it had been ten years, and Will had done little more than get a few short stories published. He did some freelance work for newspapers, making a little here and there, but Cameron's measly salaries had had to support both of them. Their parents gave them a little here and there, but it should be time for the two of them to be independent. Yet Will refused to get a "real job." He insisted that doing so would be detrimental to his writing.
Cameron threw a pot onto the stove, and the water sloshed over the sides. She turned on the gas, and moved toward the sink. Gripping the edge of the counter, Cameron tried to remind herself of all the reasons why she fell in love with Will in the first place. It couldn't be that hard, could it? Well, she remembered his smile, how he used to worship the ground that she walked on. She remembered making him laugh during his chemotherapy. In a way, the hardest time in both of their lives had probably been their happiest time. Now Will just seemed to think she would do whatever she could to make him happy. So far he'd been right, but she wasn't sure if she could continue like this for much longer.
It was Dr. House's fault. Not directly, of course, but when Cameron had stepped into that hospital, and felt the energy there, she knew that she was completely hooked. It wasn't as if she had never been in a hospital before; there was just something different about this hospital. She knew that this was the place where she might finally get a chance to be her. While imagining the challenges she would face while working for the famous Dr. House, Cameron felt excited, alive. Reaching for the remote for the TV, hoping it would cover the sound of his typing, Cameron worried about the future of her marriage.
Maybe, just maybe, working under Dr. House would show her what she's been missing in her life: passion.