Shooting Range (13/?)
Title: Shooting Range (13/?)
Author: azuredamsel
Pairing: House/Cameron.
Rating: R.
Warnings: AU post-Hunting (2.07).
Word Count: 1719.
Summary: It's probably symbolic. Cameron just tries not to think about it. What if Cameron had called House instead of Chase in Hunting? An alternate universe. A work in progress. Earlier parts (and an FAQ!) can be found here.
Disclaimer: So not mine. Not at all.
Notes: Oh man, I am so sorry about the time it took to get this chapter out. For now, Shooting Range will alternate with updates of The Breakdown of Metaphor, until the latter is finished. And then hopefully Shooting Range will be finished soon after? A girl can dream. Anyway, thank you all so much for your patience and support! I hope you enjoy. ♥
You've been used, you're confused --
Write a song, I'll sing along --
Are you calm? Settle down;
Soon you will know that you are sane,
You're on top of the world again.
--Belle & Sebastian, Expectations
When Melinda tries to run away from the hospital, Cameron's covering House's clinic hours. It's pretty fitting -- and Foreman's the one who finds her on the stairs. He's the one who talks Melinda into going back to her room. Who watches as her feet start to droop. Cameron can just picture Melinda's eyes when Foreman makes her walk back to him, staring at her ankles. She can picture the fear. (It almost makes up for Melinda's being a brat.)
After he gets back to the Diagnostics office, Foreman tells chase, who tells Cameron, once she's paged back to the Diagnostics office. It's like a line now, she thinks, and she wonders if there will be an explosion when Foreman's article is published. Maybe.
House walks into the office with a lollipop, and she's torn somewhere between a smile and a frown. (The date's the day after tomorrow.)
"So, kids, what's the plan?" He pulls the lollipop from his mouth and contemplates it like it might answer the question. Foreman puts his hands on his hips, but Cameron sees him shake is head. No plan.
She bites back something sarcastic, thinks paralysis instead. Right now it's about being a doctor. Mostly.
"A tick?" Quickly. The heart failure doesn't fit the pattern. Maybe.
"Her heart failed before her feet? Must be a fucked up tick." House raises his eyebrows. Se can see the challenge in his eyes. (He told her once to stick to her ideas, but that was before she actually did.)
Foreman ignores any challenge. "The girl lives in a clean room. No tick."
"What about the boyfriend?" She shouldn't be blushing. House shouldn't look at her when she does. Like there are myriad layers of meaning in those words. Because that's not (quite) true.
"What about him?" There's definitely a challenge in House's eyes. (There usually is.)
"A tick could've been on him."
"Sneaky tick."(Fucked up, she hears him say.) For a second it feels like Foreman and Chase have disappeared and it's just (Greg) House and (Allison) Cameron standing in the Diagnostics office.
But Chase breaks the moment. It's probably a good thing.
"What about boutilism?"
"Not unless she's been walking aroudn on her hands." House always has a witty answer, but today Chase's frown looks really upset. He hasn't mentioned seminary lately. Maybe he's reconsidering.
"It's ascending paralysis," House continues. "And it's going fast. Let's save a life here, people." He snaps his fingers. Cameron sighs, but there's a smile on her face. (She's not sure if the moment is a victory or a loss.)
"ALS? A lesion on her spinal cord?" She has to remember to be a doctor. That's important now.
"I think it's Guillame-Baret. It's too slow to be ALS or a spinal lesion. And too random to be a tick." Foreman heads towards the door while he talks. He's still not quite used to being a subordinate.
"Okay, tiger," House calls after him.
.
It's a tick, and of course House finds it between Melinda's legs. It's probably symbolic. Cameron just tries not to think about it. (She was right. Eventually he figured that out. It just took an extra sleepless night and a lot more danger.)
.
That night Cameron goes shopping. (The date's tomorrow, even if she's exhausted.) Cuddy sent her a memo about some benefit in a week. She needs to buy a dress. Something gorgeous. Something that doesn't remotely resemble a lab coat.
(House hasn't kissed her since Christmas and it's nearly Valentine's Day.)
The mall is crowded with teenagers in poufy coats and soccer moms in high-rise jeans. Cameron slips in between the shoppers. But she's not really paying attention to anything. (He sent her to Paris. But he said 'Stacy' and that's the important part.)
She's completely lost in thought when her cell phone goes off, and even then, it takes her a minute to realize that it's her phone that's ringing.
"Hello?"
"Cameron?" It's Chase, and he sounds uncertain. He's probably tired. Or thinking about seminary.
"Chase. How are you?" It seems rude to ask, "What's wrong with you?" Although she's tempted. (Maybe that's House's fault.)
"Do you think I should go to seminary?"
"Do you want to go to seminary?" She's not sure what to say. It's not like there's a correct response.
"I don't know." Cameron holds back a sigh. She shouldn't be frustrated with him.
"Chase. People lie. You lie. I lie. People get hurt and die. And it's not your fault." Even if she has trouble making herself believe that.
"But it was." He sounds like he could be drunk.
"Once. One person. And she got to say goodbye." But she doesn't want to think about the little daughters left behind. Or about her mother.
"Maybe. But do you think I should?" He's not drunk enough to slur words together.
"Would you be happier?" And she's too tired to mince words. (She needs to find some gorgeous vision of a dress.)
"You don't believe in God, do you?" He asked that before.
"No. Does it matter?"
"I suppose." But she's not in the mood for banter. She's in the mood for a mocha with an extra shot of espresso, and the perfect dress on clearance. "Listen, Chase, I have to go. But think it over, okay?"
She snaps the phone shut before he can answer. And instantly regrets it. (Sometimes she's pretty sure she's turning into House.)
.
Cameron's not even trying to hide her yawns when she walks through the formal department of the third store she tries. (The yellow dresses make her look naked and she has three little black dresses at home. And the green dresses . She doesn't want to think about the green dress. Except that she does, anyway.)
There are sparkly prom dresses, but the sequins don't tempt her for a minute. The last thing she needs to do is take ten years away from her age. (House would say something.) And sparkles have never looked good on her.
There's a red strapless dress, sleek in the waist and full in the skirt. Almost like it's caught between a prom dress and a "mature" dress. (All of those have shoulder pads.) Gorgeous, but maybe just a little confused.
Cameron knows she's tired when she starts trying to personify a dress. But there's one in her size, so she takes it to the fitting room and isn't all that surprised when it looks good. (She's too tired to make any more extravagent claims.)
It's only when she's putting the dress in the car that she realizes she has a missed call from her mother.
She'll call back tomorrow. Might as well lump two stressful events together into one day.
.
The last clinic patient of the day is leaving when House appears right outside the clinic. Cameron doesn't bother trying to hide her smile while she checks out.
"Cuddy didn't find out." House has never really mastered the word "hello".
"No." She doesn't want to say "not yet".
"What time do you want me to pick you up tonight?"
She checks her watch. It's five o'clock. "Eight."
It's easiest to sound self-assured.
"Wear spandex." But she can see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. She's in on the joke.
"I'm thinking a sweater."
And she's thinking this date might not end as badly as the first one.
.
The sweater she wears is an olive green and maybe the neck is a little low (it's like some recurring theme with him), but she's wearing her favorite necklace and jeans. She's pretty sure he didn't make a reservation anywhere.
And she's not quite sure what she's expecting. If she's expecting something.
Ten minutes to eight, she remembers her mother. She'd forgotten to call. And it's not like she can put it off again. (Her stomach tightens more in guilt over this than over the date. Oddly enough.)
Her mom answers on the third ring. "Hello?"
"Hey, Mom." She keeps her voice light, or she'll be on the phone for the next hour or two.
"Hello?"
"Mom? It's Allison." She says her name slowly, lingering on each syllable. Just in case. (The reception is probably bad.)
"Excuse me?"
"All-i-son." Louder this time.
"Allison? I'm sorry, I think you have a wrong number, sweetheart."
"I'm sorry?"
"This is Deb Cameron; I think you have a wrong number. I don't have any children." She can hear the tremor in her mother's voice. She'd wanted children for years beofore her daughter was born.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
And she hangs up before her mother (stranger?) can say anything else.
She holds back her tears for exactly four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.
She's still shaking with sobs when there's a knock on her door. House never bothers to look for the doorbell.
There's only time to wipe at her eyes and ignore the mascara on the back of her hand. And answer the door, trying to smile. (Of course he'll see through it.)
"Please tell me it wasn't Wilson on the phone telling you my leg was all better. Because he was lying. I'm still damaged." He smirks. It wasn't like she thought he would be comforting.
"No. I'm sorry, I'll be fine." But her voice wavers.
"So what happened?"
"It was my mom. I called and she didn't recognize me. She told me I had a wrong number." The words come out quickly, because then there's less chance she'll cry.
She doesn't want to cry in front of him. She's not that weak.
"Oh." She's expecting him to come up with some shitty excuse and leave.
But instead he takes a step into her apartment.
"You don't just have chick flicks, do you?" He limps over to the stack of DVDs next to the television.
"I don't think so." She sits down on the couch and takes a deep breath. Another. And she's that much further away from tears.
They finally settle on Lost In Translation, because he likes Bill Murray. She likes Japan.
After he presses "Play," he turns off the lights in her living room, his cane barely making a sound in the carpet. The darkness is soft and warm when he sits next to her on the couch, close enough that she can feel the warmth coming off him
By the time Bill and Scarlett finally meet, her head's resting on his shoulder. He's pretending like he doesn't notice, but a few minutes later he whispers, "Allison." Just quiet enough that she's not quite sure if he said it. He's silent for the rest of the movie, but her head says on his shoulder.
But when the movie's over and she sleepily walks him to the door, he leans down, kisses her cheek, and says, "Good night, Allison."
And she thinks, Maybe maybe maybe.
Author: azuredamsel
Pairing: House/Cameron.
Rating: R.
Warnings: AU post-Hunting (2.07).
Word Count: 1719.
Summary: It's probably symbolic. Cameron just tries not to think about it. What if Cameron had called House instead of Chase in Hunting? An alternate universe. A work in progress. Earlier parts (and an FAQ!) can be found here.
Disclaimer: So not mine. Not at all.
Notes: Oh man, I am so sorry about the time it took to get this chapter out. For now, Shooting Range will alternate with updates of The Breakdown of Metaphor, until the latter is finished. And then hopefully Shooting Range will be finished soon after? A girl can dream. Anyway, thank you all so much for your patience and support! I hope you enjoy. ♥
You've been used, you're confused --
Write a song, I'll sing along --
Are you calm? Settle down;
Soon you will know that you are sane,
You're on top of the world again.
--Belle & Sebastian, Expectations
When Melinda tries to run away from the hospital, Cameron's covering House's clinic hours. It's pretty fitting -- and Foreman's the one who finds her on the stairs. He's the one who talks Melinda into going back to her room. Who watches as her feet start to droop. Cameron can just picture Melinda's eyes when Foreman makes her walk back to him, staring at her ankles. She can picture the fear. (It almost makes up for Melinda's being a brat.)
After he gets back to the Diagnostics office, Foreman tells chase, who tells Cameron, once she's paged back to the Diagnostics office. It's like a line now, she thinks, and she wonders if there will be an explosion when Foreman's article is published. Maybe.
House walks into the office with a lollipop, and she's torn somewhere between a smile and a frown. (The date's the day after tomorrow.)
"So, kids, what's the plan?" He pulls the lollipop from his mouth and contemplates it like it might answer the question. Foreman puts his hands on his hips, but Cameron sees him shake is head. No plan.
She bites back something sarcastic, thinks paralysis instead. Right now it's about being a doctor. Mostly.
"A tick?" Quickly. The heart failure doesn't fit the pattern. Maybe.
"Her heart failed before her feet? Must be a fucked up tick." House raises his eyebrows. Se can see the challenge in his eyes. (He told her once to stick to her ideas, but that was before she actually did.)
Foreman ignores any challenge. "The girl lives in a clean room. No tick."
"What about the boyfriend?" She shouldn't be blushing. House shouldn't look at her when she does. Like there are myriad layers of meaning in those words. Because that's not (quite) true.
"What about him?" There's definitely a challenge in House's eyes. (There usually is.)
"A tick could've been on him."
"Sneaky tick."(Fucked up, she hears him say.) For a second it feels like Foreman and Chase have disappeared and it's just (Greg) House and (Allison) Cameron standing in the Diagnostics office.
But Chase breaks the moment. It's probably a good thing.
"What about boutilism?"
"Not unless she's been walking aroudn on her hands." House always has a witty answer, but today Chase's frown looks really upset. He hasn't mentioned seminary lately. Maybe he's reconsidering.
"It's ascending paralysis," House continues. "And it's going fast. Let's save a life here, people." He snaps his fingers. Cameron sighs, but there's a smile on her face. (She's not sure if the moment is a victory or a loss.)
"ALS? A lesion on her spinal cord?" She has to remember to be a doctor. That's important now.
"I think it's Guillame-Baret. It's too slow to be ALS or a spinal lesion. And too random to be a tick." Foreman heads towards the door while he talks. He's still not quite used to being a subordinate.
"Okay, tiger," House calls after him.
.
It's a tick, and of course House finds it between Melinda's legs. It's probably symbolic. Cameron just tries not to think about it. (She was right. Eventually he figured that out. It just took an extra sleepless night and a lot more danger.)
.
That night Cameron goes shopping. (The date's tomorrow, even if she's exhausted.) Cuddy sent her a memo about some benefit in a week. She needs to buy a dress. Something gorgeous. Something that doesn't remotely resemble a lab coat.
(House hasn't kissed her since Christmas and it's nearly Valentine's Day.)
The mall is crowded with teenagers in poufy coats and soccer moms in high-rise jeans. Cameron slips in between the shoppers. But she's not really paying attention to anything. (He sent her to Paris. But he said 'Stacy' and that's the important part.)
She's completely lost in thought when her cell phone goes off, and even then, it takes her a minute to realize that it's her phone that's ringing.
"Hello?"
"Cameron?" It's Chase, and he sounds uncertain. He's probably tired. Or thinking about seminary.
"Chase. How are you?" It seems rude to ask, "What's wrong with you?" Although she's tempted. (Maybe that's House's fault.)
"Do you think I should go to seminary?"
"Do you want to go to seminary?" She's not sure what to say. It's not like there's a correct response.
"I don't know." Cameron holds back a sigh. She shouldn't be frustrated with him.
"Chase. People lie. You lie. I lie. People get hurt and die. And it's not your fault." Even if she has trouble making herself believe that.
"But it was." He sounds like he could be drunk.
"Once. One person. And she got to say goodbye." But she doesn't want to think about the little daughters left behind. Or about her mother.
"Maybe. But do you think I should?" He's not drunk enough to slur words together.
"Would you be happier?" And she's too tired to mince words. (She needs to find some gorgeous vision of a dress.)
"You don't believe in God, do you?" He asked that before.
"No. Does it matter?"
"I suppose." But she's not in the mood for banter. She's in the mood for a mocha with an extra shot of espresso, and the perfect dress on clearance. "Listen, Chase, I have to go. But think it over, okay?"
She snaps the phone shut before he can answer. And instantly regrets it. (Sometimes she's pretty sure she's turning into House.)
.
Cameron's not even trying to hide her yawns when she walks through the formal department of the third store she tries. (The yellow dresses make her look naked and she has three little black dresses at home. And the green dresses . She doesn't want to think about the green dress. Except that she does, anyway.)
There are sparkly prom dresses, but the sequins don't tempt her for a minute. The last thing she needs to do is take ten years away from her age. (House would say something.) And sparkles have never looked good on her.
There's a red strapless dress, sleek in the waist and full in the skirt. Almost like it's caught between a prom dress and a "mature" dress. (All of those have shoulder pads.) Gorgeous, but maybe just a little confused.
Cameron knows she's tired when she starts trying to personify a dress. But there's one in her size, so she takes it to the fitting room and isn't all that surprised when it looks good. (She's too tired to make any more extravagent claims.)
It's only when she's putting the dress in the car that she realizes she has a missed call from her mother.
She'll call back tomorrow. Might as well lump two stressful events together into one day.
.
The last clinic patient of the day is leaving when House appears right outside the clinic. Cameron doesn't bother trying to hide her smile while she checks out.
"Cuddy didn't find out." House has never really mastered the word "hello".
"No." She doesn't want to say "not yet".
"What time do you want me to pick you up tonight?"
She checks her watch. It's five o'clock. "Eight."
It's easiest to sound self-assured.
"Wear spandex." But she can see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. She's in on the joke.
"I'm thinking a sweater."
And she's thinking this date might not end as badly as the first one.
.
The sweater she wears is an olive green and maybe the neck is a little low (it's like some recurring theme with him), but she's wearing her favorite necklace and jeans. She's pretty sure he didn't make a reservation anywhere.
And she's not quite sure what she's expecting. If she's expecting something.
Ten minutes to eight, she remembers her mother. She'd forgotten to call. And it's not like she can put it off again. (Her stomach tightens more in guilt over this than over the date. Oddly enough.)
Her mom answers on the third ring. "Hello?"
"Hey, Mom." She keeps her voice light, or she'll be on the phone for the next hour or two.
"Hello?"
"Mom? It's Allison." She says her name slowly, lingering on each syllable. Just in case. (The reception is probably bad.)
"Excuse me?"
"All-i-son." Louder this time.
"Allison? I'm sorry, I think you have a wrong number, sweetheart."
"I'm sorry?"
"This is Deb Cameron; I think you have a wrong number. I don't have any children." She can hear the tremor in her mother's voice. She'd wanted children for years beofore her daughter was born.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
And she hangs up before her mother (stranger?) can say anything else.
She holds back her tears for exactly four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.
She's still shaking with sobs when there's a knock on her door. House never bothers to look for the doorbell.
There's only time to wipe at her eyes and ignore the mascara on the back of her hand. And answer the door, trying to smile. (Of course he'll see through it.)
"Please tell me it wasn't Wilson on the phone telling you my leg was all better. Because he was lying. I'm still damaged." He smirks. It wasn't like she thought he would be comforting.
"No. I'm sorry, I'll be fine." But her voice wavers.
"So what happened?"
"It was my mom. I called and she didn't recognize me. She told me I had a wrong number." The words come out quickly, because then there's less chance she'll cry.
She doesn't want to cry in front of him. She's not that weak.
"Oh." She's expecting him to come up with some shitty excuse and leave.
But instead he takes a step into her apartment.
"You don't just have chick flicks, do you?" He limps over to the stack of DVDs next to the television.
"I don't think so." She sits down on the couch and takes a deep breath. Another. And she's that much further away from tears.
They finally settle on Lost In Translation, because he likes Bill Murray. She likes Japan.
After he presses "Play," he turns off the lights in her living room, his cane barely making a sound in the carpet. The darkness is soft and warm when he sits next to her on the couch, close enough that she can feel the warmth coming off him
By the time Bill and Scarlett finally meet, her head's resting on his shoulder. He's pretending like he doesn't notice, but a few minutes later he whispers, "Allison." Just quiet enough that she's not quite sure if he said it. He's silent for the rest of the movie, but her head says on his shoulder.
But when the movie's over and she sleepily walks him to the door, he leans down, kisses her cheek, and says, "Good night, Allison."
And she thinks, Maybe maybe maybe.