I'm back at long last and come bearing gifts
Hi! *waves sheepishly*
I have finally managed to make it back to the fold. Things got a bit hectic in RL. Uni had me running around with assignments left and right. But, I am pleased to announce that I have passed with flying colours and will be graduating on the 30th July. Yay!!! A very BIG thank you and hugs to all who answered my Q & A on Fanfiction. Your help was most appreciated and absolutely amazing. The response was overwhelming I am most humbled with your efforts to help me out. The article was well received and a great mark was acheived so I am endebtted to you all.
So apart from all of this, I also hit a bit of a writers block. I have cleared the door and I have come with an epic chapter of sorts. A massive 4,700 odd words, and I have already made a dent into chapter 11. I vow not to let it go this long between updates again. If I do I give permission to one an all to bug me until I update again.
A big thank you to
fairyfloss_love ,
nikita34 and urasensei they helped me when things were becoming hard to sort through and encouraged me to continue. I do hope you like it, especially after all this time. I am determined to finish this story to it's end, there's only a few more chapters to go.
So enjoy, and I like hearing fron you.
Chapter 10
Her ass had become numb approximately six hours ago, and no matter how much shuffling around she did in the small seat it didn’t alleviate any discomfort. If she were wise, she would’ve booked them in the first class section, but as it stood economy class was all that was available at the time. As they say, beggars can’t be choosers; it wasn’t going to get them there any quicker.
Thirty-two thousand feet below, the wide expanse of the ocean spread out before them. A brief stop over in Honolulu allowed all on board a small respite from the confines of the plane; some leaving for their holidays, others boarding to replace those who recently vacated.
But she and the companion sitting beside her were there for the entire trip, the only thing unknown to her was if this would be a one way excursion or not.
It was all up to him.
The few hours she was in his presence nearly killed her with the memories she tried to hide herself from, even the twinkling of diamonds the sun gave off of the ocean was not enough to keep her from her thoughts. If anything it bought them out of the cupboard, packaged neatly in blue paper with a bright silver bow.
Seeing him.
Kissing him.
Fighting with him.
Watching him walk out of her life.
The letter.
That bloody blessed letter.
God, in some ways she wished she never saw it, but, deep down she was thankful she did. How much longer would she have survived in her own little self induced exile? Another eighteen months maybe two years.
By her calculations not much longer. The writing was on the wall the day she sat on the beach watching the newest storm roll in.
It was with that storm that bought her the memories she shut away as it thundered and crashed about her, leaving a soothing calm in its wake.
A calm so serene and peaceful it made everything around her so much clearer than she ever felt.
It was seeing her mother’s handwriting, telling her of the events which had passed in her absence. The heartaches and the joy of events she was not privy to contained within the pages she wrote.
It was seeing the tear marks scattered over the page which made her heart constrict with sadness.
It was the way her mother told her how the dashing Dr House had became a prominent figure in the family in such a small space of time.
Regular visits, weekly phone calls, flowers sent for all those important occasions; Allison was doubtful he even did any of those things for his own mother let alone for hers.
That was the clincher.
Dr Gregory House, world renowned diagnostician, world-class pain in the ass, winner of the ‘Actively Avoided Patients, Clinic Duty, Emotions and Well Being An All Round Bastard’ of the year award for the past fifteen years, actually cared for her, loved her enough to travel half way across the world to be with her, and the best she could offer him was a fight.
A bloody stupid fight; all because she ran away when things got a little rough.
But not anymore.
It was time to be strong.
Closing her eyes, Allison Cameron rested. It was going to be a long road ahead.
* * *
“Do you think you should tell him he’s completed the most clinic hours in the past month than any other doctor in the hospital?”
Dr Cuddy looked over her desk to her male companion, “You seriously want me to tell him that if he keeps this up he will finally have all his contracted clinic hours completed in less than eight months?”
Her companion turned around in his chair, enabling him to have a better view of the clinic behind them and the quarry of their conversation.
“Look at him. He’s miserable, he’s taking more vicodin than ever, I haven’t seen him eat a decent meal in almost three weeks and if my guess is correct he hasn’t had a full night’s sleep since he came back from god knows where….”
“You must be kidding me right? You expect me to tell him to go home when this has been the most productive he has ever been since he started here? Not to mention there hasn’t been a complaint against him in the past six weeks, even for him that’s a miracle.”
Wilson looked over at Cuddy in astonishment. He was shocked that she would put the hospital first over the well being of her staff.
Over House.
“What? You’ll honestly let him continue killing himself at this rate?”
Cuddy sighed heavily placing her head in her hands. She had seen the destructive path House had put himself on. She had tried, really, really tried to curb it within a week of his return, seeing him cut so low was almost as bad as seeing him just after his infarction nearly seven years ago. She even tempted him with less hours if it could entice the old House back into action.
Lifting her head slowly, Wilson saw the tired defeat in her eyes that she had hidden beneath her one sided banter.
“I’ve tried Wilson. Honestly I’ve tried, but he just won’t listen. He never listens. I have threatened him out of the hospital for a couple of days, even offered to deduct clinic hours but he’s just so stubborn he won’t listen.”(Wait, Cuddy's threatened House of being thrown out for a few days? You mean suspended? Or is she just trying to be more strict with words to force him into a vacation? There's something about Cuddy's line that isn't making sense to me.)
Wilson could only nod with agreement. When House was in a mood like this it was better just to wait……hopefully it was before he killed himself.
Turing back to the clinic, silently watching the man in question as he collected another file from the dominatrix of nurses, Brenda, before retreating to the solace of exam room one with another patient.
“I had a phone call from a Dr Bligh in Australia. There’s a doctor he wants to recommend to House’s department,” Cuddy commented softly.
“Does House know yet?”
“No. I was kind of hoping…” Cuddy started.
“If I would talk to him and get him to do an interview. Right?” Wilson said plainly.
“Well, sort of. The interview is this afternoon at one. Do you think you could do it?”
“I’ll try. But frankly the last thing he wants is to interview another prospective duckling,” he said tiredly.
They had danced this dance many times in the past, with House leading and Wilson forced to make it as graceful as possible even though the floor was as slippery as hell.
Cuddy looked at Wilson again silently thanking him. She made her way around her desk, slowly brushing past, running her fingers lightly along the back of his neck, fingers grazing the soft skin below the cotton of his collar. His eyes closing at the feel of delicate fingers on his skin, the magic of those fingers he had only just discovered.
“So you still want to meet up tonight?” she asked cautiously aware of prying eyes in the glass enclosure they call a hospital. What were the architects thinking?
Wilson turned his head slightly to look at her.
“I’ll pick you up. Seven alright?”
Cuddy leaned down bringing her mouth close to his ears.
“It’s more than alright,” she whispered.
Wilson turned his head capturing her lips quickly, deeply kissing her.
‘Glass walls? What glass walls?’ was the distinguished Dr Cuddy’s last thought for the next few minutes.
* * *
The rubber of the surgical gloves snapped as the doctor removed them from his long fingers, carelessly tossing the gloves over his shoulder landing it into the biohazard bin in one shot.
“You can get dressed now,” he said without concern, almost grunting out his response. He completely ignored and offered very little help to the older woman as she scrambled off the exam table gathering her clothes to redress.
House turned quickly on the stool dragging himself over to the counter, scribbling furiously on a pad in that unknown language doctors seem to have.
“Well Mrs Baker, I am sure that this fungal cream will remove all that itches and ails down stairs. So hand this to the pharmacist on your way out,” House snarked ripping the piece of yellow paper off the pad.
“Do you have to be this ….. gruff Dr House,” the woman asked.
“If I was nice would you come back?”
“Of course. If the doctor I see is pleasant enough, I would definitely like to see them again,” Mrs Baker responded.
“Exactly my point,” House responded cheerily, a false smile plastered on his face, “I don’t want to see you.”
His face suddenly taking on his usual scowl, as he watched Mrs Baker snatch her prescription and heading for the door mumbling under breath about the uncouth behaviour of professionals now days.
House allowed himself a slight smile, something he had not been able to do in quite sometime. Maybe things were starting to look up.
He refused to think about her. It was a subject that didn’t exist, not now, not ever.
A quiet knock on the exam room door took him back to the present.
Wilson poked his head around the edge of the door seeing House spinning slowly on his stool.
“Having a good day?” Wilson asked cautiously. House’s mood was so unpredictable lately he had to guess what sort of mood his oldest friend would be in.
“Yup.”
“Feel up to a bit of lunch?”
“Yup. You’re paying.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It must be an alright day today Wilson thought to himself as he lead the two of them out and up to the cafeteria.
Now the only problem would be to break the news about the upcoming interview.
* * *
A young woman walked through the busy foyer of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, the patients were being bustles here and there. She was just thankful the occupants of the hospital were otherwise occupied to notice the well dressed woman pass through with little fanfare
Even the security officer placed at the main doors after House’s shooting a couple years before barely glanced at her as she walked in.
Purposefully and full of memories, she made her way to the elevators, her head full of the words of wisdom her companion back to the United States gave her not a few minutes before.
“It’ll be fine. He’ll be so surprised he’ll grab you and kiss you senseless.”
If only it was that simple.
The doors to the steel cubicle opened, welcoming her inside, bringing forth conversations and looks shared between herself and the object of her mission.
She just hoped that like James Bond she came out relatively unscathed.
* * *
“How complicated is it to not put pickles on a sandwich?”
The doors to the elevator located on the first floor slid shut, slowly making it’s ascent to the fourth.
“Well….”
“Don’t answer that, it’s obviously too hard for their menial minds to comprehend the simplest of tasks, hence their jobs.”
“House…”
“No, no, you won’t change my mind,” he said holding hi hands up, “If I didn’t know any better Cuddy put them up to it. It’s probably part of their workplace agreement.”
Wilson stomach was turning. The green salad and orange juice he just had at lunch was not sitting well and was threatening on making a repeat showing sans the bowl it came in. They were approaching House’s office at an alarming rate.
He still hadn’t been able to broach the subject of the forthcoming interview. The words formed easily in his mind:
“Look House, it’s been a while maybe it’s time to think of hiring a new fellow?”
“You know, Cameron would want you to go on with your life instead of wallowing.”
No matter how he worded it, it just wasn’t going to work. He only hoped his courage came back to him before their arrival to the fourth floor.
* * * *
Nothing had changed.
Absolutely nothing.
The red and grey oversized tennis ball sat precariously on the edge of the glass topped desk, his well worn and loved ipod sat waiting for his return in the docking station, to listen to its eclectic contents once again.
She could only guess where his game boy was, most likely sitting deep within his blazer pocket, anticipating its next rendezvous in the clinic.
The walls remained the same pale blue, the reclining chair in the corner bore the owners impression still embedded in the tan fabric, and his red mug sat on the floor beside the chair, obviously forgotten.
If she was still working here (and she hopes that she will be soon), his mug wouldn’t be left idly on the floor unwashed and unattended for long.
She sat back straight facing the balcony which lead to Wilson’s office. She wondered if he continued to leap, well not so much leap with his leg, but make his way over to his friends office to raid his fridge.
Glancing at the small clock on his desk.
12.57pm
Just a couple more minutes left.
* * * *
The step-thump rhythm echoing around the corridor signalling the end of life, one person’s life in particular.
Wilson was counting down the steps until his doom just as his companion’s steps were serenading the final beats of his heart.
Forty yards till touch down.
It was now or never.
“Look House, there’s this ……… thing.” Wilson tugged nervously on his collar something that didn’t go unnoticed by House, “I need to tell you something.”
“Well, my birthday is a few months off so it can’t be the monster truck rally tickets you bought”
“How did you know about them.”
“Hey bro, it’s not my fault you left your credit card bill laying around for all to see.”
“You looked through my drawers?” House just shrugged and continued walking, Wilson shouldn’t be shocked and yet he was.
“House I keep my bills in the bottom drawer of a locked filing cabinet”
Twenty yards.
“Seriously House it’s important,”
“If it’s that important what’s her name?”
“What?”
“What’s her name? You know, the hooker you bought me. Seeing as I have been a little depressed these past weeks it must be a pick-me-up on doctors orders.” House winked at Wilson knowingly.
Ten yards.
“You’re disgusting”
“Eh.” House shrugged.
Five yards.
Wilson stepped in front of House pulling him to an abrupt stop in the deserted corridor.
“Hey! Watch it! Remember this?” House said holding up his cane, “You were there, remember when the evil witch of the south and Hitler re-incarnated decided it would be fun to hack off most of my thigh?”
“House forget about your leg for a moment and listen."
Wilson decided that dealing with House was infinitely worse than looking after a pack of screaming two years olds. “Cuddy wants you to interview someone. For Cameron’s position.” Wilson could see House cringe at hearing her name.
“No.” His voice taking on a harsh edge.
“House you are working your current fellows into the ground. You have been taking on more cases than ever before. You need another person to help handle the workload.”
“I don’t need another person,” House said through clenched teeth.
“You do. If you don’t hire someone, Cuddy’s going to do it for you and knowing her the person will be your worst nightmare.”
House looked everywhere but at his friend. He was hoping to put this off for as long as he could.
Today it seemed to be the expiry date.
There were two choices, well three if you counted him resigning.
One, refuse and have Cuddy hire some incompetent amoeba who can barely string a coherent sentence together or bite the proverbial bullet and do it himself, finally closing the door on something he was hoping to keep ajar for just a little longer.
“Look I know this is hard, but you have to move on. She would want you to instead of being the miserable bastard for the rest of your life.”
House raised an eyebrow at Wilson’s comment.
“Well, more of a miserable bastard than you currently are.”
House though for a moment before nodding his head slowly.
“Alright let’s get this show on the road,” he sighed.
Wilson smiled. A small victory before the war was always a good sign. But then again it could all fall in a heap not long after.
Pushing the door open, House saw the young woman sitting in front of his desk. Her brunette hair pulled loosely in a bun, her slight frame currently sporting a stylish navy suit. His eyes followed the curve of her back down to the matching skirt and shoes.
‘Comfortable shoes,’ was his first thought. He despised women who would knowingly torture themselves with narrow pointy shoes all in the name of high fashion.
“This is Dr Matthews. She’s an immunologist,” Wilson informed House as soon as they entered the office. House seemed indifferent, as with any other interview he switched off immediately when Wilson opened his office door.
The young woman stood confidently from her seat, turning around extending her hand in greeting.
Both men stood in silence watching the scene unfold before them in slow motion. The curve of her body, the way she inclined her head all seemed familiar.
But the thing that shocked them the most was her eyes. Those blue-green eyes which had been absent from the office for so long was now back.
“Hi Dr House, Dr Wilson.” Her voice was velvety and soft just as it had been all those weeks ago and still held the gentleness that would always be with her.
“Dr Cameron?” Wilson choked. To say he was stunned would be an understatement.
House stood staring at the one person he thought he left standing in the middle of a Gold Coast hotel room.
The room had become quiet. A definite stalemate had settled in the room.
House remained rigid, his cane firmly planted on the carpet waiting for Wilson to finally pick his jaw off the floor.
Cameron however remained calm; well her exterior did, inside her stomach churned worse than a bad case of turbulence at thirty thousand feet in the air, and her legs were on the verge of crumbling underneath her.
“It’s good to see you again Dr Wilson”
“Wow. Cameron it’s amazing to see you, I must admit you had us all worried there for a long while.” He was actually wondering if House had managed to slip some LSD in his orange juice at lunch.
“I’m truly sorry. It was never my intention to make people worry like that.”
House snorted at her comment, disbelieving every word.
Wilson looked at House incredulously, while Cameron raised a perfectly arched brow at him.
“Forget it,” Wilson commented turning back around to face the young woman. “My God. You’re back that’s what we should be celebrating.”
Taking the few strides between them Wilson scooped Cameron into a hug, spinning her around House’s office as if it would be last time he would see her again earning himself a small chuckle from Cameron for his actions.
“House, isn’t this great?” Wilson laughed putting her back on her feet.
Not receiving a reply from the Diagnostician, Wilson faced Cameron who shrugged.
Tension suddenly settled in the room. Wilson was caught between running for his life and his innate curiosity to see what made his friend close up so suddenly.
Then it all fell into place.
“You’re not surprised she’s here, are you?”
“Nope”
“Why?”
House shrugged.
“House came and saw me about a month ago in Australia,” Cameron commented making her presence known again.
“You found her, went to Australia and didn’t tell me? Anyone?”
“It didn’t seem too important. Besides what she did was much worse. Why is it that everyone focuses on my screw ups rather than the other persons? Besides it’s between me and her. Right Dr Matthews?” House glared at her making her agree with what he was saying. It was obvious that the reasons for his little sojourn down under should remain between those involved.
Cameron dutifully nodded.
“Dr Matthews?” Wilson questioned.
“Aha, I knew he would catch on eventually. Good work there Sherlock. Meet our one o’clock interview dutifully set up from Cuddy no doubt, a Dr A Matthews from Griffith University Teaching Hospital on the Gold Coast in Queensland Australia. She comes highly recommended from a Dr Bligh, Head of Immunology. Am I right?” House spat.
Wilson nodded again seemingly losing his voice under House’s raw emotion.
“Matthews?” Wilson questioned.
“Yeah, our young escape artist here gave us the slip by using her married name to skip the country,” House snarked.
“Well, you don’t have to make it sound as if I committed a murder or something,” Cameron snapped back at him.
“Yeah well you shouldn’t have left the way you did!”
“You basically didn’t give me any choice in the matter!”
“At least I wasn’t the one who decided they couldn’t handle it and go running off to hide in the corner like an insolent child.”
“Well, if you showed a bit of emotion every once and a while, maybe people wouldn’t feel the need to hide. Oh but then again you don’t have emotions. They’re for the weak,” she spat.
“And if you weren’t some ‘Pollyana’ wanna be and knitting stuffed animals you would know how to operate in the real world.”
“You don’t anyway. You have never stepped foot into the real world. You lock yourself up in your own vicodin induced kingdom barking your orders to your lackeys!”
Wilson watched on. It was a new variation of the U.S Open; instead of volleying tennis balls they were volleying words. Words which were getting harsher with each serve.
“Well, I’ll just leave you two to it then. Good,” Wilson calmly stated to no one in particular as the other occupants in the room were otherwise occupied with each other.
“You didn’t mind. As a matter of fact you even tried to seduce me right here in this office.”
“At least I didn’t falsify medical records to get high.”
Neither House nor Cameron noticed Wilson leave the office; both were currently giving each other the evil eye. They had run out of things to say and were trying to out glare each other.
Cameron was the first one to look away; she was never any good at staring someone down. Her brother always said she was always too gullible, besides this was House, she would never be in his league.
“Been practising?”
“What?” she was confused.
“You’ve been practising. I should feel honoured. I bet you’ve been waiting a few years to say that lot.” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Walking back to his desk, he sat heavily in his chair allowing it rock back with his weight, carefully eyeing his female companion. Cameron remained standing her gaze focused on the oversized red and grey ball on the desk, her hand idly spinning it around in its holder.
“Why are you really here?” he asked, his voice had all but lost the edge it had just moments ago.
Cameron looked up meeting his gaze.
“It was time to stop running,” she replied simply.
“Why?”
“Because the thing I want most is here.”
House looked her over. She was stronger than the last time he saw her and she had also gained a few much needed pounds, that was a definite, but there was something else he couldn’t place his finger on. What was it?
“The job? Is that what you want?” he asked. It would be a process of elimination, something he wasn’t patient with.
“It would be a bonus. But it’s not what I am here for.”
“Well, then it can’t be for the good food. That’s for sure. Wilson and I have already worked out its crap.”
Cameron smiled a little at his comment.
“So what is it that you want Dr Matthews,” he asked tenting his fingers under his chin as his body relaxed further into his chair.
“Cameron. It’s back to Dr Cameron now.”
House raised an eyebrow. She was serious; she was here, claiming her place back in the real world, where she belonged. Determination shone in her eyes. She had her eye on the prize and was out to stake her claim.
“So you decided to ditch the whole depressed widow look.”
Cameron scowled.
“What? Didn’t like that look? But sweetheart that look was so you,” he sneered sarcastically.
“House,” she warned.
The way she said his name made him realise he was skating on thin ice. He didn’t care, because frankly what right did she have to waltz right into his life again when she made it abundantly clear he held no place in hers.
“Please House, we’ve been down this road before and it’s tiring,” she sighed sitting heavily into the chair she previously sat.
“Join the club.”
“Please House.” Allison took a few moments to gather her thoughts. “I want to thank you,” she said softly.
“Thank me? That’s rich especially since the last time you saw me you basically told me I was the one at fault. I was the one that caused all your heartache,” he barked.
Cameron sighed; this was going to be harder than she thought it would be.
“I want to thank you for all the things you did for my family while I wasn’t here, especially my mum. The flowers, the visits, phone calls, everything you did. It was nice to know someone was looking out for them,” she spoke softly wanting to make sure he knew how grateful she was.
“You must’ve been mistaken; I don’t do things like that. Probably Wilson, you know how he likes to play the dashing knight in shining armour role.”
Cameron smiled. It was just like him to deflect such sentiment.
“My mum was pretty particular with the description. Cane with a set of groovy flares at the bottom, sexy body and blue eyes you could drown in.”
House blushed. She was right Mrs Cameron had taken a bit of a shine to him. Feeding him up with her home cooking, all the while he laughed, chatted and even had a few bets with Mr Cameron about the latest football matches. Even as going so far as to invite Mr Cameron to New York with him to see a game.
“Look House, the way I acted when I saw you….I’m not proud of it. You surprised me and I was scared. You made me face something I should’ve done ages ago, instead of running away like I did.
“I want another chance. Please. To put things right as they say. You made me see what I want in my life, who I want in me life, if he is willing to give me that chance,” Cameron spoke strongly but softly looking into his eyes making him hear every one of her words, hoping the underlying message would be heard.
“I’ll consider your application. You should know in the next day or so regarding the fellowship position.”
Cameron understood.
Rising from her seat she held out her hand, House briefly looked into her eyes seeing the hopefulness lying within them before he held her small hand in his, allowing the warmth of her skin flow up his arm.
“Here’s my number. I look forward to your call Dr House,” she smiled handing him a small piece of paper with her contact details.
House gave her a brief nod, watching her turn and walk out the glass door to his office.
* * * *
Dr Allison Cameron stepped out into the New Jersey sun feeling happier than she had in months.
She had barely made it to her rental car before her phone vibrated in her purse. Opening up the text message she smiled and turned her face to the window of House’s office before continuing her journey.
“Tonight. My place. Bring food & Grog”
There was no doubt who the message was from.
I have finally managed to make it back to the fold. Things got a bit hectic in RL. Uni had me running around with assignments left and right. But, I am pleased to announce that I have passed with flying colours and will be graduating on the 30th July. Yay!!! A very BIG thank you and hugs to all who answered my Q & A on Fanfiction. Your help was most appreciated and absolutely amazing. The response was overwhelming I am most humbled with your efforts to help me out. The article was well received and a great mark was acheived so I am endebtted to you all.
So apart from all of this, I also hit a bit of a writers block. I have cleared the door and I have come with an epic chapter of sorts. A massive 4,700 odd words, and I have already made a dent into chapter 11. I vow not to let it go this long between updates again. If I do I give permission to one an all to bug me until I update again.
A big thank you to
fairyfloss_love ,
nikita34 and urasensei they helped me when things were becoming hard to sort through and encouraged me to continue. I do hope you like it, especially after all this time. I am determined to finish this story to it's end, there's only a few more chapters to go.
So enjoy, and I like hearing fron you.
Chapter 10
Her ass had become numb approximately six hours ago, and no matter how much shuffling around she did in the small seat it didn’t alleviate any discomfort. If she were wise, she would’ve booked them in the first class section, but as it stood economy class was all that was available at the time. As they say, beggars can’t be choosers; it wasn’t going to get them there any quicker.
Thirty-two thousand feet below, the wide expanse of the ocean spread out before them. A brief stop over in Honolulu allowed all on board a small respite from the confines of the plane; some leaving for their holidays, others boarding to replace those who recently vacated.
But she and the companion sitting beside her were there for the entire trip, the only thing unknown to her was if this would be a one way excursion or not.
It was all up to him.
The few hours she was in his presence nearly killed her with the memories she tried to hide herself from, even the twinkling of diamonds the sun gave off of the ocean was not enough to keep her from her thoughts. If anything it bought them out of the cupboard, packaged neatly in blue paper with a bright silver bow.
Seeing him.
Kissing him.
Fighting with him.
Watching him walk out of her life.
The letter.
That bloody blessed letter.
God, in some ways she wished she never saw it, but, deep down she was thankful she did. How much longer would she have survived in her own little self induced exile? Another eighteen months maybe two years.
By her calculations not much longer. The writing was on the wall the day she sat on the beach watching the newest storm roll in.
It was with that storm that bought her the memories she shut away as it thundered and crashed about her, leaving a soothing calm in its wake.
A calm so serene and peaceful it made everything around her so much clearer than she ever felt.
It was seeing her mother’s handwriting, telling her of the events which had passed in her absence. The heartaches and the joy of events she was not privy to contained within the pages she wrote.
It was seeing the tear marks scattered over the page which made her heart constrict with sadness.
It was the way her mother told her how the dashing Dr House had became a prominent figure in the family in such a small space of time.
Regular visits, weekly phone calls, flowers sent for all those important occasions; Allison was doubtful he even did any of those things for his own mother let alone for hers.
That was the clincher.
Dr Gregory House, world renowned diagnostician, world-class pain in the ass, winner of the ‘Actively Avoided Patients, Clinic Duty, Emotions and Well Being An All Round Bastard’ of the year award for the past fifteen years, actually cared for her, loved her enough to travel half way across the world to be with her, and the best she could offer him was a fight.
A bloody stupid fight; all because she ran away when things got a little rough.
But not anymore.
It was time to be strong.
Closing her eyes, Allison Cameron rested. It was going to be a long road ahead.
* * *
“Do you think you should tell him he’s completed the most clinic hours in the past month than any other doctor in the hospital?”
Dr Cuddy looked over her desk to her male companion, “You seriously want me to tell him that if he keeps this up he will finally have all his contracted clinic hours completed in less than eight months?”
Her companion turned around in his chair, enabling him to have a better view of the clinic behind them and the quarry of their conversation.
“Look at him. He’s miserable, he’s taking more vicodin than ever, I haven’t seen him eat a decent meal in almost three weeks and if my guess is correct he hasn’t had a full night’s sleep since he came back from god knows where….”
“You must be kidding me right? You expect me to tell him to go home when this has been the most productive he has ever been since he started here? Not to mention there hasn’t been a complaint against him in the past six weeks, even for him that’s a miracle.”
Wilson looked over at Cuddy in astonishment. He was shocked that she would put the hospital first over the well being of her staff.
Over House.
“What? You’ll honestly let him continue killing himself at this rate?”
Cuddy sighed heavily placing her head in her hands. She had seen the destructive path House had put himself on. She had tried, really, really tried to curb it within a week of his return, seeing him cut so low was almost as bad as seeing him just after his infarction nearly seven years ago. She even tempted him with less hours if it could entice the old House back into action.
Lifting her head slowly, Wilson saw the tired defeat in her eyes that she had hidden beneath her one sided banter.
“I’ve tried Wilson. Honestly I’ve tried, but he just won’t listen. He never listens. I have threatened him out of the hospital for a couple of days, even offered to deduct clinic hours but he’s just so stubborn he won’t listen.”(Wait, Cuddy's threatened House of being thrown out for a few days? You mean suspended? Or is she just trying to be more strict with words to force him into a vacation? There's something about Cuddy's line that isn't making sense to me.)
Wilson could only nod with agreement. When House was in a mood like this it was better just to wait……hopefully it was before he killed himself.
Turing back to the clinic, silently watching the man in question as he collected another file from the dominatrix of nurses, Brenda, before retreating to the solace of exam room one with another patient.
“I had a phone call from a Dr Bligh in Australia. There’s a doctor he wants to recommend to House’s department,” Cuddy commented softly.
“Does House know yet?”
“No. I was kind of hoping…” Cuddy started.
“If I would talk to him and get him to do an interview. Right?” Wilson said plainly.
“Well, sort of. The interview is this afternoon at one. Do you think you could do it?”
“I’ll try. But frankly the last thing he wants is to interview another prospective duckling,” he said tiredly.
They had danced this dance many times in the past, with House leading and Wilson forced to make it as graceful as possible even though the floor was as slippery as hell.
Cuddy looked at Wilson again silently thanking him. She made her way around her desk, slowly brushing past, running her fingers lightly along the back of his neck, fingers grazing the soft skin below the cotton of his collar. His eyes closing at the feel of delicate fingers on his skin, the magic of those fingers he had only just discovered.
“So you still want to meet up tonight?” she asked cautiously aware of prying eyes in the glass enclosure they call a hospital. What were the architects thinking?
Wilson turned his head slightly to look at her.
“I’ll pick you up. Seven alright?”
Cuddy leaned down bringing her mouth close to his ears.
“It’s more than alright,” she whispered.
Wilson turned his head capturing her lips quickly, deeply kissing her.
‘Glass walls? What glass walls?’ was the distinguished Dr Cuddy’s last thought for the next few minutes.
* * *
The rubber of the surgical gloves snapped as the doctor removed them from his long fingers, carelessly tossing the gloves over his shoulder landing it into the biohazard bin in one shot.
“You can get dressed now,” he said without concern, almost grunting out his response. He completely ignored and offered very little help to the older woman as she scrambled off the exam table gathering her clothes to redress.
House turned quickly on the stool dragging himself over to the counter, scribbling furiously on a pad in that unknown language doctors seem to have.
“Well Mrs Baker, I am sure that this fungal cream will remove all that itches and ails down stairs. So hand this to the pharmacist on your way out,” House snarked ripping the piece of yellow paper off the pad.
“Do you have to be this ….. gruff Dr House,” the woman asked.
“If I was nice would you come back?”
“Of course. If the doctor I see is pleasant enough, I would definitely like to see them again,” Mrs Baker responded.
“Exactly my point,” House responded cheerily, a false smile plastered on his face, “I don’t want to see you.”
His face suddenly taking on his usual scowl, as he watched Mrs Baker snatch her prescription and heading for the door mumbling under breath about the uncouth behaviour of professionals now days.
House allowed himself a slight smile, something he had not been able to do in quite sometime. Maybe things were starting to look up.
He refused to think about her. It was a subject that didn’t exist, not now, not ever.
A quiet knock on the exam room door took him back to the present.
Wilson poked his head around the edge of the door seeing House spinning slowly on his stool.
“Having a good day?” Wilson asked cautiously. House’s mood was so unpredictable lately he had to guess what sort of mood his oldest friend would be in.
“Yup.”
“Feel up to a bit of lunch?”
“Yup. You’re paying.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It must be an alright day today Wilson thought to himself as he lead the two of them out and up to the cafeteria.
Now the only problem would be to break the news about the upcoming interview.
* * *
A young woman walked through the busy foyer of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, the patients were being bustles here and there. She was just thankful the occupants of the hospital were otherwise occupied to notice the well dressed woman pass through with little fanfare
Even the security officer placed at the main doors after House’s shooting a couple years before barely glanced at her as she walked in.
Purposefully and full of memories, she made her way to the elevators, her head full of the words of wisdom her companion back to the United States gave her not a few minutes before.
“It’ll be fine. He’ll be so surprised he’ll grab you and kiss you senseless.”
If only it was that simple.
The doors to the steel cubicle opened, welcoming her inside, bringing forth conversations and looks shared between herself and the object of her mission.
She just hoped that like James Bond she came out relatively unscathed.
* * *
“How complicated is it to not put pickles on a sandwich?”
The doors to the elevator located on the first floor slid shut, slowly making it’s ascent to the fourth.
“Well….”
“Don’t answer that, it’s obviously too hard for their menial minds to comprehend the simplest of tasks, hence their jobs.”
“House…”
“No, no, you won’t change my mind,” he said holding hi hands up, “If I didn’t know any better Cuddy put them up to it. It’s probably part of their workplace agreement.”
Wilson stomach was turning. The green salad and orange juice he just had at lunch was not sitting well and was threatening on making a repeat showing sans the bowl it came in. They were approaching House’s office at an alarming rate.
He still hadn’t been able to broach the subject of the forthcoming interview. The words formed easily in his mind:
“Look House, it’s been a while maybe it’s time to think of hiring a new fellow?”
“You know, Cameron would want you to go on with your life instead of wallowing.”
No matter how he worded it, it just wasn’t going to work. He only hoped his courage came back to him before their arrival to the fourth floor.
* * * *
Nothing had changed.
Absolutely nothing.
The red and grey oversized tennis ball sat precariously on the edge of the glass topped desk, his well worn and loved ipod sat waiting for his return in the docking station, to listen to its eclectic contents once again.
She could only guess where his game boy was, most likely sitting deep within his blazer pocket, anticipating its next rendezvous in the clinic.
The walls remained the same pale blue, the reclining chair in the corner bore the owners impression still embedded in the tan fabric, and his red mug sat on the floor beside the chair, obviously forgotten.
If she was still working here (and she hopes that she will be soon), his mug wouldn’t be left idly on the floor unwashed and unattended for long.
She sat back straight facing the balcony which lead to Wilson’s office. She wondered if he continued to leap, well not so much leap with his leg, but make his way over to his friends office to raid his fridge.
Glancing at the small clock on his desk.
12.57pm
Just a couple more minutes left.
* * * *
The step-thump rhythm echoing around the corridor signalling the end of life, one person’s life in particular.
Wilson was counting down the steps until his doom just as his companion’s steps were serenading the final beats of his heart.
Forty yards till touch down.
It was now or never.
“Look House, there’s this ……… thing.” Wilson tugged nervously on his collar something that didn’t go unnoticed by House, “I need to tell you something.”
“Well, my birthday is a few months off so it can’t be the monster truck rally tickets you bought”
“How did you know about them.”
“Hey bro, it’s not my fault you left your credit card bill laying around for all to see.”
“You looked through my drawers?” House just shrugged and continued walking, Wilson shouldn’t be shocked and yet he was.
“House I keep my bills in the bottom drawer of a locked filing cabinet”
Twenty yards.
“Seriously House it’s important,”
“If it’s that important what’s her name?”
“What?”
“What’s her name? You know, the hooker you bought me. Seeing as I have been a little depressed these past weeks it must be a pick-me-up on doctors orders.” House winked at Wilson knowingly.
Ten yards.
“You’re disgusting”
“Eh.” House shrugged.
Five yards.
Wilson stepped in front of House pulling him to an abrupt stop in the deserted corridor.
“Hey! Watch it! Remember this?” House said holding up his cane, “You were there, remember when the evil witch of the south and Hitler re-incarnated decided it would be fun to hack off most of my thigh?”
“House forget about your leg for a moment and listen."
Wilson decided that dealing with House was infinitely worse than looking after a pack of screaming two years olds. “Cuddy wants you to interview someone. For Cameron’s position.” Wilson could see House cringe at hearing her name.
“No.” His voice taking on a harsh edge.
“House you are working your current fellows into the ground. You have been taking on more cases than ever before. You need another person to help handle the workload.”
“I don’t need another person,” House said through clenched teeth.
“You do. If you don’t hire someone, Cuddy’s going to do it for you and knowing her the person will be your worst nightmare.”
House looked everywhere but at his friend. He was hoping to put this off for as long as he could.
Today it seemed to be the expiry date.
There were two choices, well three if you counted him resigning.
One, refuse and have Cuddy hire some incompetent amoeba who can barely string a coherent sentence together or bite the proverbial bullet and do it himself, finally closing the door on something he was hoping to keep ajar for just a little longer.
“Look I know this is hard, but you have to move on. She would want you to instead of being the miserable bastard for the rest of your life.”
House raised an eyebrow at Wilson’s comment.
“Well, more of a miserable bastard than you currently are.”
House though for a moment before nodding his head slowly.
“Alright let’s get this show on the road,” he sighed.
Wilson smiled. A small victory before the war was always a good sign. But then again it could all fall in a heap not long after.
Pushing the door open, House saw the young woman sitting in front of his desk. Her brunette hair pulled loosely in a bun, her slight frame currently sporting a stylish navy suit. His eyes followed the curve of her back down to the matching skirt and shoes.
‘Comfortable shoes,’ was his first thought. He despised women who would knowingly torture themselves with narrow pointy shoes all in the name of high fashion.
“This is Dr Matthews. She’s an immunologist,” Wilson informed House as soon as they entered the office. House seemed indifferent, as with any other interview he switched off immediately when Wilson opened his office door.
The young woman stood confidently from her seat, turning around extending her hand in greeting.
Both men stood in silence watching the scene unfold before them in slow motion. The curve of her body, the way she inclined her head all seemed familiar.
But the thing that shocked them the most was her eyes. Those blue-green eyes which had been absent from the office for so long was now back.
“Hi Dr House, Dr Wilson.” Her voice was velvety and soft just as it had been all those weeks ago and still held the gentleness that would always be with her.
“Dr Cameron?” Wilson choked. To say he was stunned would be an understatement.
House stood staring at the one person he thought he left standing in the middle of a Gold Coast hotel room.
The room had become quiet. A definite stalemate had settled in the room.
House remained rigid, his cane firmly planted on the carpet waiting for Wilson to finally pick his jaw off the floor.
Cameron however remained calm; well her exterior did, inside her stomach churned worse than a bad case of turbulence at thirty thousand feet in the air, and her legs were on the verge of crumbling underneath her.
“It’s good to see you again Dr Wilson”
“Wow. Cameron it’s amazing to see you, I must admit you had us all worried there for a long while.” He was actually wondering if House had managed to slip some LSD in his orange juice at lunch.
“I’m truly sorry. It was never my intention to make people worry like that.”
House snorted at her comment, disbelieving every word.
Wilson looked at House incredulously, while Cameron raised a perfectly arched brow at him.
“Forget it,” Wilson commented turning back around to face the young woman. “My God. You’re back that’s what we should be celebrating.”
Taking the few strides between them Wilson scooped Cameron into a hug, spinning her around House’s office as if it would be last time he would see her again earning himself a small chuckle from Cameron for his actions.
“House, isn’t this great?” Wilson laughed putting her back on her feet.
Not receiving a reply from the Diagnostician, Wilson faced Cameron who shrugged.
Tension suddenly settled in the room. Wilson was caught between running for his life and his innate curiosity to see what made his friend close up so suddenly.
Then it all fell into place.
“You’re not surprised she’s here, are you?”
“Nope”
“Why?”
House shrugged.
“House came and saw me about a month ago in Australia,” Cameron commented making her presence known again.
“You found her, went to Australia and didn’t tell me? Anyone?”
“It didn’t seem too important. Besides what she did was much worse. Why is it that everyone focuses on my screw ups rather than the other persons? Besides it’s between me and her. Right Dr Matthews?” House glared at her making her agree with what he was saying. It was obvious that the reasons for his little sojourn down under should remain between those involved.
Cameron dutifully nodded.
“Dr Matthews?” Wilson questioned.
“Aha, I knew he would catch on eventually. Good work there Sherlock. Meet our one o’clock interview dutifully set up from Cuddy no doubt, a Dr A Matthews from Griffith University Teaching Hospital on the Gold Coast in Queensland Australia. She comes highly recommended from a Dr Bligh, Head of Immunology. Am I right?” House spat.
Wilson nodded again seemingly losing his voice under House’s raw emotion.
“Matthews?” Wilson questioned.
“Yeah, our young escape artist here gave us the slip by using her married name to skip the country,” House snarked.
“Well, you don’t have to make it sound as if I committed a murder or something,” Cameron snapped back at him.
“Yeah well you shouldn’t have left the way you did!”
“You basically didn’t give me any choice in the matter!”
“At least I wasn’t the one who decided they couldn’t handle it and go running off to hide in the corner like an insolent child.”
“Well, if you showed a bit of emotion every once and a while, maybe people wouldn’t feel the need to hide. Oh but then again you don’t have emotions. They’re for the weak,” she spat.
“And if you weren’t some ‘Pollyana’ wanna be and knitting stuffed animals you would know how to operate in the real world.”
“You don’t anyway. You have never stepped foot into the real world. You lock yourself up in your own vicodin induced kingdom barking your orders to your lackeys!”
Wilson watched on. It was a new variation of the U.S Open; instead of volleying tennis balls they were volleying words. Words which were getting harsher with each serve.
“Well, I’ll just leave you two to it then. Good,” Wilson calmly stated to no one in particular as the other occupants in the room were otherwise occupied with each other.
“You didn’t mind. As a matter of fact you even tried to seduce me right here in this office.”
“At least I didn’t falsify medical records to get high.”
Neither House nor Cameron noticed Wilson leave the office; both were currently giving each other the evil eye. They had run out of things to say and were trying to out glare each other.
Cameron was the first one to look away; she was never any good at staring someone down. Her brother always said she was always too gullible, besides this was House, she would never be in his league.
“Been practising?”
“What?” she was confused.
“You’ve been practising. I should feel honoured. I bet you’ve been waiting a few years to say that lot.” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Walking back to his desk, he sat heavily in his chair allowing it rock back with his weight, carefully eyeing his female companion. Cameron remained standing her gaze focused on the oversized red and grey ball on the desk, her hand idly spinning it around in its holder.
“Why are you really here?” he asked, his voice had all but lost the edge it had just moments ago.
Cameron looked up meeting his gaze.
“It was time to stop running,” she replied simply.
“Why?”
“Because the thing I want most is here.”
House looked her over. She was stronger than the last time he saw her and she had also gained a few much needed pounds, that was a definite, but there was something else he couldn’t place his finger on. What was it?
“The job? Is that what you want?” he asked. It would be a process of elimination, something he wasn’t patient with.
“It would be a bonus. But it’s not what I am here for.”
“Well, then it can’t be for the good food. That’s for sure. Wilson and I have already worked out its crap.”
Cameron smiled a little at his comment.
“So what is it that you want Dr Matthews,” he asked tenting his fingers under his chin as his body relaxed further into his chair.
“Cameron. It’s back to Dr Cameron now.”
House raised an eyebrow. She was serious; she was here, claiming her place back in the real world, where she belonged. Determination shone in her eyes. She had her eye on the prize and was out to stake her claim.
“So you decided to ditch the whole depressed widow look.”
Cameron scowled.
“What? Didn’t like that look? But sweetheart that look was so you,” he sneered sarcastically.
“House,” she warned.
The way she said his name made him realise he was skating on thin ice. He didn’t care, because frankly what right did she have to waltz right into his life again when she made it abundantly clear he held no place in hers.
“Please House, we’ve been down this road before and it’s tiring,” she sighed sitting heavily into the chair she previously sat.
“Join the club.”
“Please House.” Allison took a few moments to gather her thoughts. “I want to thank you,” she said softly.
“Thank me? That’s rich especially since the last time you saw me you basically told me I was the one at fault. I was the one that caused all your heartache,” he barked.
Cameron sighed; this was going to be harder than she thought it would be.
“I want to thank you for all the things you did for my family while I wasn’t here, especially my mum. The flowers, the visits, phone calls, everything you did. It was nice to know someone was looking out for them,” she spoke softly wanting to make sure he knew how grateful she was.
“You must’ve been mistaken; I don’t do things like that. Probably Wilson, you know how he likes to play the dashing knight in shining armour role.”
Cameron smiled. It was just like him to deflect such sentiment.
“My mum was pretty particular with the description. Cane with a set of groovy flares at the bottom, sexy body and blue eyes you could drown in.”
House blushed. She was right Mrs Cameron had taken a bit of a shine to him. Feeding him up with her home cooking, all the while he laughed, chatted and even had a few bets with Mr Cameron about the latest football matches. Even as going so far as to invite Mr Cameron to New York with him to see a game.
“Look House, the way I acted when I saw you….I’m not proud of it. You surprised me and I was scared. You made me face something I should’ve done ages ago, instead of running away like I did.
“I want another chance. Please. To put things right as they say. You made me see what I want in my life, who I want in me life, if he is willing to give me that chance,” Cameron spoke strongly but softly looking into his eyes making him hear every one of her words, hoping the underlying message would be heard.
“I’ll consider your application. You should know in the next day or so regarding the fellowship position.”
Cameron understood.
Rising from her seat she held out her hand, House briefly looked into her eyes seeing the hopefulness lying within them before he held her small hand in his, allowing the warmth of her skin flow up his arm.
“Here’s my number. I look forward to your call Dr House,” she smiled handing him a small piece of paper with her contact details.
House gave her a brief nod, watching her turn and walk out the glass door to his office.
* * * *
Dr Allison Cameron stepped out into the New Jersey sun feeling happier than she had in months.
She had barely made it to her rental car before her phone vibrated in her purse. Opening up the text message she smiled and turned her face to the window of House’s office before continuing her journey.
“Tonight. My place. Bring food & Grog”
There was no doubt who the message was from.