A/N: Takes place immediately after Informed Consent.
Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I didn't own House. If anything changes, I'll let you know.
Cameron lost track of how long she sat in the chapel. People came in, sat silently or cried, and then left. She sat staring at the pulpit and the stained glass behind it. She watched the light move across the small room. Slowly, she lifted her hands and touched her swollen and blotchy face. She could still see the relieved look on Ezra Powell's face when she slipped into his hospital room with the syringe. She could still feel House's large, warm hand squeezing her shoulder as he told her that he was proud of her.
With a sigh, she stood and smoothed her trousers. The lights in the empty chapel pooled on the carpet making a path for her to follow to the doors. Last night she strayed off the path she normally followed. Yes, Powell would die regardless of any treatment they gave him. Yes, he begged her more than once to end his life. She could still feel his eyes on her as she inserted the needle into his IV line. She could still hear his voice thanking her. He thanked her. She ended his life and he thanked her. As she approached the elevator, she could hear Cuddy calling her name. She ignored Cuddy and slipped into the elevator, jamming her finger against the button that would close the door. Pushing the button for the fourth floor, she slumped against the wall and rubbed her eyes. She just wanted to get her things and go home.
The doors slid open and she saw with relief that the Diagnostics conference room and House's office were dark. She would grab her things, take the stairs and go out the back way. Entering the conference room, she reached for her coat and her bag. Behind her, she heard the blinds rattle and she tensed.
"Still need a foot rub?"
Cameron closed her eyes. She could hear the rustle of clothing and the uneven gait of House behind her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up when his breath ghosted across the sensitive skin.
"Well?" he asked, his voice soft.
She shook her head and tried to slip her arms into her coat. House's hands encircled her upper arms and he pushed her coat off, dropping it on the floor.
"You said you wanted Johnny Damon to give you a foot rub," he remarked as he turned her to face him. "I admit I'm not a baseball hero but I do give a mean foot rub. Just ask Wilson."
Looking up into his bright blue eyes, she sagged in his hold. Nodding, she allowed him to lead her into his office. He gently pushed her down into his Eames chair. The only light came from the reading lamp on his desk. All the blinds were drawn and the room was shadowy. House sat on the foot stool and lifted her feet up. He removed one shoe and looked at it. Cameron watched him through slitted eyelids.
"So what do you call these?" he asked looking the shoe over carefully.
"Shoes," she replied and closed her eyes as House laughed softly. She felt him remove her other shoe and lift her left foot. His long fingers began to knead the arch of her foot. Spirals of desire coiled through her at his gentle touch. His thumbs pressed against the sole of her foot working in concentric circles. He stroked and flexed each of her toes before gently rotating her ankle and slipping his hand up her calf. She felt the tension flow out of her with each stroke of his fingers. Pulling his hand free, he placed her left foot on his right knee before picking up her right foot. By the time he reached her right calf, she was on the verge of sleep.
"Come on," he said, slipping her shoes back on her feet. "I'll take you home."
Cameron allowed him to slide her arms into her coat and lead her out of the hospital. She sank into the passenger seat of his car and watched him move around the car to slide in behind the wheel. He inserted his key and the car started up. On the radio, a song played. Cameron listened briefly before falling asleep. What seemed to be a moment later, House opened the door and held out his hand. She swung her legs out of his car and let him lead her up to her apartment. Exhaustion caused her to sway slightly as he unlocked her front door. He slipped an arm around her waist and looked around her apartment.
"Bedroom?" he asked.
She nodded toward the hall and leaned into him as he walked her to her bedroom. Blinking sleepily, she watched as he flipped the covers back. She moved past him and crawled into her bed. She was dimply aware of him removing her shoes and pulling the covers over her. Just before she slipped into a deep sleep, she felt his lips brush her forehead.
"You tell anyone I did this," he breathed in her ear, "and I'll have to fire you."
She nodded and forced her eyes open. "Why did you do this?"
He shook his head. "Damned if I know."
She watched him limp out of her room, turning out the light and closing the door. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.