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It's baking outside, and Cameron feels like she can feel the heat even here, where glass walls lead to white walls and it's impossible to tell whether it's light or dark outside. Often, she goes outside and blinks in amazement at her surroundings. But for once she is glad enough to be stuck in this room. House would never let them skimp on his air conditioning.
She focuses again on what House is saying. "So, why does the teenager collapse in the summer? Why does he wake up later claiming to be fine? I'll sing the first verse and you join in on the chorus."
He held up his fingers, ticking off diseases that have been eliminated. She finds it fun to watch him while he gives these little lectures, because she can look at him intently without seeming to be inappropriate. But there is heat when she thinks about his hands, which are rougher than a doctor's hands should be. And she gazes also at his face, at the lines and shadows that make him Gregory House.
He thinks she loves him for his illness and imperfection. Maybe he wants to hear that she loves him in spite of them. But the truth is somewhere in between, and might make both of them unhappy.
Right now she concentrates on the case at hand. Above all things she is a doctor, and oddly enough it's House who seems to remember that fact the most.
"I still say it's drugs," says Chase.
Cameron snaps at him. "Not according to the tox screen."
"Maybe it's some kind of designer drug," he persists.
House interrupts. "Well, a guy like you would certainly... nah, it's too easy."
Chases glares at him and remains silent.
Foreman shrugs. "It's not heatstroke, and I'm out of ideas."
"I think it's a virus," she says.
House glares at her. "You're not supposed to be idiot one. That's Chase."
This is the way they communicate. He lashes out with words and she hurts in silence. But sometimes she can't stay quiet.
"Why do I get nothing but crap from you people?" House bellows.
"Because you treat us like crap," she snaps, clamping her mouth shut when she realizes what she has said.
He is grinning at her now. "Your smart-ass retorts need work," he says. "You're a marshmallow inside and you let it show on the surface."
What is it that drives him to hurt her, to make her tough? It's like he's saving up his own pain and doling it out to other people.
Foreman sighs. "The only reason we have this case is that the kid's father is a big donor."
"Not true. I took this case to prove a point."
"What point?" asks Chase.
"That House will do anything to avoid clinic hours." To her surprise it is her voice saying this. And though she hadn't been certain what Cuddy had threatened him with, the smirk on House's face lets her know that she is right.
"You know, I might appreciate your new ability to be even more annoying if you didn't do it around me."
"But that's the whole point of being annoying," she replies. She is actually enjoying this, taunting House. It's pretty obvious that he is enjoying it too. That troubles her, just a little. Is she trying to become someone else just to impress him?
"The point," he says, "is that you never know what will help you solve a mystery."
"Look, we asked the kid everything, and his family too," says Foreman.
"But what about something he wanted to hide?" asks House.
"Sex or drugs?" asks Chase. "We ran the tox screen, which Cameron seems to believe, and his collapse with a lack of symptoms doesn't match anything transmitted sexually. And we talked to him alone."
"What about something that was stressing him so much that he collapsed from stress?" asked House, drawing out each word as if it is a treat he is giving them.
Foreman shakes his head. "God, that could be anything. He's off to an Ivy League college this year, that's pretty stressful right there."
"What if his college career was suddenly threatened?" asks House.
"What, a pregnant girlfriend?" asks Chase. "We're back to sex? His parents said he broke up with his girlfriend six months ago, and he confirmed it. Didn't look upset, either."
House is smiling slightly, looking forward to the finale where he will show off his deductive skills. It's then that Cameron remembers the morning paper. She had almost ignored the article. Her school days are long over and she doesn't have much time for the news. But this student must have seen it and collapsed from shock.
"He cheated on his SATs," she says out loud.
"His what?" asks Chase.
"It's a college entrance exam they give here," Cameron replies. "Almost all the colleges require it for admission. And there was an article in the paper this morning about cheating. It's almost impossible to cheat, but apparently this was a teacher helping his favorite students."
House looks honestly shocked, then relaxes into his grin again. "Cheaters never prosper," he says in a mocking perky tone.
"You really think he was one of those students, and that's why he collapsed?" asked Foreman skeptically.
"I already got the information that he was in the class. I just wanted to see how the three of you think. If anybody had the brains to read the morning paper and match it up with this kid."
Chase sighed. "Cameron wins this time."
She smiles to herself. House approves, even if he won't say so out loud. When they are dismissed, she walks over to him.
"I like to see you coming out of that mawkish, cloying little shell of yours," he told her.
"Are you really trying to make me be someone else?" she asks.
"If you hadn't married a man on the verge of death you might have been someone else."
"I wish you would stop acting like that's the only thing I've ever done," she replied.
He raised his eyebrows. "You mean it isn't?"
"Very funny."
But if House is trying to bring out something good in her, maybe that's all right. Even if she grows a little more accustomed to harshness in the process.
"Maybe sometimes it's other people who see who we truly are," she says.
"You sound like a greeting card."
Now is the time. She is very nervous but tries to act flippant. "Would you like to go somewhere tomorrow night?" she asks him.
"I'll ask my social director," he mutters. He pauses for a moment, then adds, "He said no."
"Not a date," she said. And she means it, even if she hopes that someday there will be another date.
He narrows his eyes. "What is it then?"
She pulls two tickets out of her pocket. "Roller Derby."
House stares at the tickets. "Roller Derby is crude, vulgar, and exploitative. It's everything I am that you aren't."
"I can do crude and vulgar," she says.
"That could be fun to watch. But it's not a date." He's looking into her eyes, though, and she feels the heat again.
She shakes her head. "Right. It's Roller Derby. I'll see you tomorrow."
When she leaves, she wears a smile that is slightly crude, slightly vulgar and all Cameron.