Chapter Text
Wilson knew something was wrong the moment House burst into his office without the customary snide remark about his choice of tie or the state of his love life. Instead, House was radiating a peculiar energy—the kind that usually preceded either a brilliant medical breakthrough or an especially creative act of workplace terrorism. Given that it was barely nine in the morning, Wilson was betting on the latter.
"I need-" House started, then stopped abruptly, as if the words had caught in his throat like fish bones. He paced the length of Wilson's office, his limp more pronounced than usual—a sure sign he was agitated. "Never mind."
"No, no," Wilson set down his coffee, leaning back in his chair with the air of a man settling in for what promised to be an entertaining show. "Please, continue. You need...?"
House shot him a glare that would have withered lesser oncologists. "Nothing. Forget it." He turned to leave, got halfway to the door, then spun back around with surprising agility for a man with a bum leg. "It's Cameron's birthday."
Wilson waited for more, but House just stood there, looking simultaneously annoyed and oddly vulnerable, like a cat that had fallen off a windowsill and was trying to pretend it had meant to do that all along.
"And this is causing you existential distress because...?"
"Because-" House began pacing again, his cane punctuating each turn with a sharp tap. "Because she's Cameron. She probably believes in birthday magic and wishes coming true and all that Disney princess garbage. She's probably had this day circled on her calendar since January, complete with little hearts and unicorn stickers."
"Ah," Wilson nodded. "And you're worried about disappointing her."
"I'm worried about having to deal with the aftermath of disappointing her," House corrected, but there was something forced about his tone. "You know how she gets. Those eyes. Like I just told her Santa isn't real and also kicked her puppy."
"God forbid someone actually care about whether you acknowledge their existence," Wilson muttered, but there was no heat in it. "So what's the plan? Besides hiding in my office all day?"
"I don't hide," House scoffed. "I strategically avoid."
"Of course. My mistake." Wilson took a sip of his coffee to hide his smile. "And your strategic avoidance today involves...?"
House dropped onto Wilson's couch with enough force to make the springs protest. "I need to get her something."
"A gift? For Cameron?" Wilson's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "Who are you and what have you done with Gregory House?"
"Shut up."
"No, really, this is fascinating. The great misanthrope, actually considering someone else's feelings? Should I check for signs of the apocalypse?"
"This is why I don't tell you things," House grumbled, but he made no move to leave. Instead, he started tossing his ball - where had that even come from? - toward the ceiling in a steady rhythm. "It's not about feelings. It's about workplace efficiency. Happy underlings are productive underlings."
"Right," Wilson nodded. "And the fact that you actually like Cameron has nothing to do with it."
The ball missed its mark and bounced off House's forehead. "I don't like Cameron. I tolerate Cameron. There's a difference."
"You hired her."
"Because she's qualified."
"You hired her because she's pretty and she worships you," Wilson corrected. "But you kept her because she's brilliant. And now you actually care what she thinks of you."
House caught the ball and held it, staring at some point past Wilson's left ear. "She made me coffee this morning."
"She makes you coffee every morning."
"Yeah, but..." House trailed off, his fingers drumming against the ball. "It was her birthday. She made me coffee on her birthday."
Wilson waited, knowing there was more.
"She didn't say anything. Didn't drop any hints. Just... made the coffee. Perfect, like always. And smiled. That stupid Cameron smile, like making coffee for her ass of a boss is the highlight of her morning."
"Maybe it is," Wilson suggested quietly.
House's eyes snapped to his face. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't make this into... something. It's not something. I just need to get her a gift that says 'adequate job performance' without encouraging any more of her..." He waved his hand vaguely. "Feelings."
"Heaven forbid anyone have feelings in your general vicinity," Wilson sighed. "Fine. What are you thinking?"
"That's why I'm here, isn't it? You're the expert on gifts and feelings and all that crap. I haven't bought a birthday present since..." House paused, thinking. "Actually, I'm not sure I've ever bought a birthday present."
"What about Stacy?"
"She bought her own presents and told me I'd picked them out. Much more efficient that way."
Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Well. What does Cameron like?"
"Besides hopelessly damaged men with god complexes?"
"Yes, besides you."
House ignored the jab, his eyes taking on that distant look they got when he was solving a particularly complex puzzle. "She likes... order. Everything in its place. Color-coded files and perfectly aligned pens. But she's not rigid about it - she adapts when she needs to. Keeps backup plans for her backup plans."
Wilson nodded encouragingly.
"She reads medical journals for fun, but she keeps that romance novel in her locker - thinks no one knows about it. Brings those fancy teas in little sachets, but drinks the break room coffee without complaining when we're busy. Takes notes in different colors, but always uses black ink for patient files. Comprehensive. Methodical."
"And?"
"And what?"
"And she's clearly made an impression on you," Wilson said carefully. "For someone you just 'tolerate.'"
House's expression shuttered. "It's my job to notice things."
"Right. Of course." Wilson leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "So what are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing. Everything. I don't know." House pushed himself to his feet and started pacing again. "I need... something perfect. Something that shows I noticed but doesn't show I noticed too much. Something thoughtful but not personal. Professional but not cold."
"You're overthinking this."
"That's rich, coming from you. You once spent two hours picking out a greeting card."
"It was for my mother!"
"My point stands." House stopped pacing suddenly, his eyes lighting up with that dangerous gleam that usually preceded either genius or catastrophe. "I need your car."
Wilson blinked at the sudden change of direction. "What? Why?"
"Because mine's in the shop and I need to go somewhere."
"Where?"
"If I wanted you to know, I'd have invited you along." House was already heading for the door. "Keys."
Wilson sighed and dug in his pocket. "Try not to get any parking tickets this time?"
House snatched the keys from his hand. "No promises. I'll bring your sick ride back before 5." He paused at the door. "And Wilson?"
"Yeah?"
"If Cameron comes looking for me..."
"I haven't seen you," Wilson finished. "Go. Do your grand gesture. Just try not to make it too grand. Or too... House-like."
House's only response was a wave of his cane as he disappeared through the door.
---
Cameron was having a surprisingly good birthday, all things considered. Chase had brought in cupcakes - actual, proper cupcakes from that bakery she loved, the one across town that always had a line out the door. He'd gotten her favorite flavor too, which meant he'd either been paying more attention than she'd thought, or he'd asked around. Either way, it was sweet.
Foreman had given her a card signed by practically everyone in the hospital, including, somehow, that new nurse in pediatrics who'd only started last week. She strongly suspected he'd been collecting signatures for days.
Even Cuddy had stopped by the diagnostics office to wish her happy birthday, though that might have had more to do with trying to track down House than any real celebratory intent. Their boss had been conspicuously absent all morning, which was... well, it was typical House, wasn't it? She tried not to feel disappointed about that.
She wasn't disappointed. She wasn't.
"Earth to Cameron."
She blinked, focusing on Chase's face across the conference table. "Sorry, what?"
"I asked if you wanted the last cupcake." He pushed the box toward her. "Birthday girl gets dibs."
"Oh. No, you take it." She smiled, but it felt a bit forced. "I'm still full from lunch."
Chase's eyes narrowed slightly. "You didn't eat lunch. You've been running those cultures all day."
Had she? Cameron glanced at her watch and was surprised to find it was already past two. She'd been so absorbed in her work (and definitely not in thinking about House's absence) that she'd completely lost track of time.
"I'll split it with you," she offered, reaching for the box.
Before Chase could respond, the door burst open with House's characteristic lack of ceremony. Everyone in the room jumped slightly - even Foreman, though he'd deny it if asked.
House looked... different. Energized. Like he'd just solved a particularly difficult case, except they didn't currently have a case. His hair was windblown, his jacket slightly askew, and there was a hint of color in his cheeks that suggested he'd been moving faster than his usual deliberate pace.
"Doctor Cameron," he announced, with the air of a herald delivering a royal proclamation. "Your presence is required."
Cameron blinked. "Required where?"
"If I wanted you to know, I'd have led with that." He gestured impatiently with his cane. "Come on."
She glanced at Chase and Foreman, who looked equally mystified. "But the cultures-"
"Will still be growing whatever fascinating bacteria they're growing when you get back." House's eyes met hers, and there was something in them - a spark of... something—that made her breath catch slightly. "Trust me?"
It wasn't really a question, even though he'd phrased it as one. It was a challenge. A dare. And Cameron had never been very good at turning down House's dares.
She stood up, smoothing her lab coat with suddenly shaky hands. "Lead the way."
The last thing she saw as she followed House out of the conference room was Chase and Foreman exchanging significant looks. She'd probably have to deal with their theories later, but right now... right now, she was following House somewhere unknown, on her birthday, and her heart was doing that thing it always did around him - that complicated flutter that was equal parts hope and fear and something else she tried very hard not to name.
She just hoped whatever this was, it wouldn't hurt too much when it inevitably ended in disappointment.
But then House glanced back at her as they waited for the elevator, and there was something almost soft in his expression - there and gone so quickly she might have imagined it—and suddenly she wasn't so sure about the inevitable disappointment anymore.