The House Fan Fiction Archive

 

A Little Less Conversation


by phineyj


House's cell was ringing, but he ignored it. He hated being interrupted when he was busy doing something. The ringing stopped, then started again.

He reached down onto the floor, found his pants and extracted the phone from the pocket.

"What?" he said, crossly, propping himself up awkwardly on one elbow, and wiping his mouth with his hand.

"Where the hell are you, House?" said his best friend's voice, peevishly, "Cuddy's been looking for you for the last hour; something about some test Foreman wants to run."

"I'm having lunch," House told him, unhelpfully.

"What are you having, then?" asked Wilson, puzzled, looking down at the congealed Reuben he'd got House a half hour before.

"Cameron," said House, matter-of-factly.

Wilson sighed in a resigned fashion, and said, "OK, if you're going to joke around, then you can just deal with the wrath of Cuddy on your own," and he hung up.

House gave the cell a dirty look and threw it back on the pile of clothes on the floor. Back to business.

"Who was that?" came Cameron's voice from the other end of the bed.

"Wilson," House said, and ran his tongue over his lips, "Now shut up; I'm concentrating here."

Cameron clearly decided that if she wasn't allowed to talk, she could think of other ways to put her mouth to use. Ways that affected his concentration.

Crap. He couldn't believe it; the phone was ringing again. He leant down and grabbed it, not even looking at the caller display.

"What is it this time, Wilson?" he barked; he was good at multi-tasking, but this was ridiculous.

"It's Foreman, not Wilson," replied his second-least favorite minion, "I need your permission to do a C3 lumbar puncture...and House...why are you answering Cameron's phone?"

A muffled giggle came from the near distance, but it seemed Cameron wasn't about to offer to explain.

"She's in the middle of something right now," House informed him, cursing the uniform appearance of Japanese-made technology, "And besides, her mother told her never to talk with her mouth full."

"Right," said Foreman, patiently, "So, the parents are getting anxious and I really want to do this test before they change their minds."

"Alright," agreed House, long-sufferingly, "We'll be back in half an hour," and hung up.

"House," said Cameron, breathlessly, "A little less conversation? A little more action?"

House applied himself to the task at hand, which was speedily accomplished, despite Cameron's continuing attempts at distraction.

Twenty-nine minutes later, they walked back into Diagnostics. No-one was around; it looked like Foreman and Chase were still up on the ward.

House glanced up and down the corridor; the place was deserted for the time being. He pulled Cameron in for a quick kiss, drew back, and looked her in the eye, smirking.

"So, lunch again tomorrow?"

FIN


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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.