Sorry I haven't updated in a while! I haven't forgotten about this, in fact, I stayed up until 4am to finish this chapter. My plot hamster and I have worked hard to turn out this chapter. I even skipped the beta-ing part, which probably wasn't too good. Oh well.

I started something new, I includes a snippette of the song that I steal the title of. This one is Misery Business by Paramore. I don't own the artiss or songs either, and I'm not saying it again.

Please review and enjoy!

Chapter 6: Misery Business

“I'm in the business of misery; let's take it from the top
She's got a body like an hourglass, it's ticking like a clock
It's a matter of time before we all run out...
When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth.”
-Paramore

The afternoon sun filled the room and the smell of bacon was apparent when House awoke from his post-sex nap. He found the king sized bed completely empty except for the rustled covers.

When he came more alert, he was aware of the scent of the fattening meat. House put two and two together and thought that Cameron found something edible and was preparing it.

House groggily made his way to the kitchen, after grabbing his cane and popping an extra Vicodin for the pain he was currently experiencing.

His feet echoed throughout the narrow hall, upon reaching his destination at the origin of the sweet smelling bacon.

Her usually orderly, straightened brunette hair was messily tossed around her shoulders. She held a spatula in her right hand. The greasy bacon sizzled as it hit the butter-covered pan; much like their love making – hot.

As she heard his familiar sounding gait approaching her from behind her turned her body.

“Stacey?!” House exclaimed. Meanwhile he was thinking, “What the fuck!! Where the hell is Cameron...?”

“Hey Greg,” she replied, saucily. “Just making us some breakfast; I’m starved.”

“Where’s Cameron?” House asked, bluntly.

“I saw her leaving when I came to the hospital to see you. She was with Dr. Chase,” Stacey responded.

Stacey leaned over the island counter, supporting herself with her elbows. Her oversize tee (which was actually House’s) hung low and you could see her natural cleavage. To House, it wasn’t appealing at all.

“Chase?”

“I thought she broke up with him… For me,” he thought.

“Yeah; blond, Australian, young…” she spoke slowly.

House’s expression turned from cold and aloof to confusion. Well, he was always confused. What the hell was real? Maybe, if he was lucky, Ashton Kutcher would jump out with his camera crew any second…

“What happened last night?” House asked, cocking his head to the left. “With us?”

The woman stared at House, intently; trying to study him. “Well, I came to the hospital to see you. I left Mark; came back for you. We rode on your motorcycle back here. We had sex…” she rattled off.

House had enough, “OK, yeah, yeah… happy ending.”

“Very,” as she turned back to the stove to remove the breakfast meat from the heat.

Suddenly, in House’s eyes came a bright, white light. There was absolutely no end to it. But as he moved further into it, the temperature rose.

Then – nothing.

He tried to open his eyes; needing, wanting the madness to end. When he finally did, there was white.

It wasn’t blinding, like before. It was dull, and had texture. House realized it was, in fact, his fluffy pillow.

House sat up on his king sized bed and looked around. It was the same bedroom; same bed; same clothes, lying haphazardly on the floor. He was naked and the cold air that suddenly hit his body from lack of warmth, effectively erecting his nipples and giving a rude awakening.

House quickly grabbed his previously tossed Rolling Stones tee and boxers on, hurriedly. Hastily picking up his flame-embroidered cane and placing it in its designated hand.

He walked down the hallway, for what seems like the second time. There was major déjà vu occurring within him, though he would never admit it.

House turned to see a blonde-haired woman dressed in a tank top and boy shorts. Her slim figure extenuated in every way. Her face was turned way from House as she sat on the backless stool in his kitchen, reading the newspaper.

The diagnostician walk behind her and wrapped his muscular arms around her centre. It was his new favorite position with her.

“Aren’t you cold?” he questioned, as he squeezed her slightly.

“Not anymore,” she smiled. “Did you have a nice nap?”

He ignored the inquiry, “are you real?”

“Of course,” Cameron stated, never once looking up at him. She seized reading once she heard his familiar stride down the hallway leading to the contemporary kitchen.

“Good,” he stated simply as he dug his nose in her hair. “Strawberries,” he contemplated.

“Why? What happened?” she asked, skeptically.

“Oh, nothing… I’m just glad it wasn’t real, 'cause it would be one crappy life I was living,” he paused. “And, that this isn’t a dream.”

Cameron thought for a second, “Me too.” She leaned back into his embrace, causing his cane, which was resting on the seat of the stool, to drop with a loud thud. Cameron ignored it and continued, “It’s Christmas Day.”

“So? What’s your point?” he responded.

“What’s my point?” she echoed.

“Well, it’s a day devoted to people who believe in Baby Jesus’ birth. To everybody else, it’s Friday,” he rattled off.

Cameron chuckled, “You just said that because you wanted to bash religion.”

“Well, religion bugs me,” he replied.

She shook her head in dismay, “By the way, I qualify for ‘everybody else’”

“So do I. So, let’s enjoy this makeshift day off. We don’t get a lot of ‘em.”

“True, and especially because I’ve been pulling overtime in the ER...”

“How come?” House moved from behind her to the stool adjacent to Cameron, holding her hand; he ached for physical contact with this woman.

“I need the overtime. The pay is worse than when I got when I was your bitch… which was very low, by the way.”

“You’ll always be my bitch,” House grinned.

He leaned in to capture her lips with his own. They moved in harmony; complementing and completing each other wonderfully. His tongue pushed through her lips, immediately gaining a free entrance. Her right hand found the back of his neck and pulled him in deeper. His hand rested on her thigh and stool, respectively. Cameron pulled away, smiling, nevertheless breathless for air, and she immediately started drowning in the icy blue of his eyes before her.

He begun, “why don’t I talk to Cuddy to see if you could get a raise? You’re running a department very well from what the janitor tells me. You should be getting more for your work, not less. C’mon, Allie, grow a backbone.”

Cameron’s stomach fluttered as he called her by her first name, a nickname no less. “Sure,” she stumbled out.

House smiled a little. If Cuddy didn’t oblige, he had one more trick up his sleeve. Though, it risked the functionality of his department. “So, why don’t you make yourself useful and make us some food?” She glared, “Please?” he added, with a puppy dog look.

Cameron agreed and grinned; she rose off her stool. She strode over to the refrigerator to retrieve some eggs and bacon.

It started with some bacon… it ended with some bacon…

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