Round Robin Contribution

[cassandra-elise.livejournal.com]

We've reached the climax of our story (*snickers*), but before the happy ending we must have conflict! Right? *evilgrin* chlorinehamster is next.




There’s something cold and damning about waking up alone, especially after a spontaneous copulation with a friend. Aquaintance. Coworker. Well, what does it matter what Cameron means to him? She’s gone, the displaced blankets and lingering scent of her cologne the only evidence of her former presence. House knows better than to hope she has merely meandered into another corner of his apartment. His time spent with hookers has made him an expert at differentiating the one-night-stands from the meaningful trysts. And this has “one-night-stand” written all over it. Just as well. Making a hasty exit is what any sensible woman would do.

Since the young doctor started working for him, House often wondered why she liked him. Satirical and abrasive as he was, there was nothing to recommend him to the compassionate woman with the bothersome moral compass, unless it was his weathered looks and pathetic gimp. Often he tried to broach the subject with her, find out exactly what it was about him that was so appealing, but she dismissed his demand—except for the one time. Cameron’s green eyes bore a hole in his skull as she tremulously declared that she liked him because he did what was right.

And now she clearly feels their love affair is a lapse of judgment on his part. Fine. Whatever.

House lets his anger, like his potent Vicodin, spread through his body, covering the pain until it resembles a dull ache. Vindictive thoughts of firing Cameron—or better yet, making her job a living hell—rattle his brain. His machinations eventually exhaust him, and he succumbs to a restless sleep. Even his dreams are angry, but House is strangely relieved: Anger prevents him from feeling anything else.