(no subject)
TITLE: Evolution 5
AUTHOR: dragynflies
RATING: PG-13
Pairing: House/Cameron
SUMMARY:
She could stay a little while longer…
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Don’t sue.
Author's Note: This is dedicated to darlingsaila because she's probably the only one dorky enough to get the horrible reference in this fic, which was done on accident.
Cameron woke up before House, still curled up safe and warm in his embrace. She closed her eyes again, holding still so she wouldn’t wake him. Her face was buried in his chest and he had his arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on the crown of her head. She squirmed just a little, finally opening her eyes and turning her head to look at the nightstand. The clock read 5:26; the movers would be there at 10:00 to load her things. Her flight left at 6:00 that night.
She could stay a little while longer…
The job at PPTH was still open. It wasn’t her own department, but she could work her way up…she wouldn’t have to be his underling, she could be his equal. The job at Mayo…didn’t have to be hers. She didn’t need the cute little house in the suburbs that she’d purchased. She could have him.
What was she willing to give up for him?
If she stayed, she wasn’t going to leave. Not ever. She could fall asleep in his arms that
night, wake up with him the next morning. Was she naïve enough to think that he wouldn’t tire of her? Or even that anything real had happened last night…something more than just sex.
It was better if she just…did it. Like ripping off a band-aid. She twisted carefully, sliding her leg out from between his and scooting down to slide out from under his arm. She placed a pillow in the space her body had left, and stood up silently.
He was still sound asleep, snoring slightly as she tugged her panties and jeans back on. She found her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, watching him as she dressed.
Wake up. Wake up and ask me to stay.
She would, and that was what scared her. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and leaned forward, placing a ghost of a kiss on his cheek. She padded softly into his living room and found a green pen and a corner of a scrap paper. She scribbled briefly and snuck back into his bedroom to leave the paper on the pillow.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
House woke up when a familiar twinge shot through his leg. He rolled over on autopilot, grabbing his Vicodin and popping two before he realized something was wrong.
Where the hell was Cameron? He didn’t wait for the medicine to kick in, instead grabbing his cane and limping heavily around his bed. Her clothes were gone. He went into the living room. She’d just gotten up to make coffee, that was all. He was overreacting.
Her shoes were gone.
Fuck. Fuck.
He grabbed his phone, flipping through the numbers until he found Cameron’s.
The number you have called has been disconnected. If you feel you have reached this message in error please hang -
Her cell phone. She wouldn’t have disconnected that, that wouldn’t make any sense.
Hello, you’ve reached Dr. Allison Cameron. I’m unavailable to take your call at this time. Please leave a brief message after the beep. If this is an emergency, please contact --
Frustrated, he dropped the phone onto the coffee table and sank down on his couch. What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t going to beg her to stay.
No matter how much he wanted her to.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
As the movers carried boxes to the van, Cameron watched the driveway into the parking lot of her apartment building for House’s motorcycle. House’s car. House in a taxi, or on a pony for all she cared.
Half of her was afraid he wasn’t coming. The other half was afraid he was.
“Sunday afternoon?” one of the movers asked, a notebook open.
“Hrmm?”
“Sunday afternoon. To bring your things. Will you be there by then?”
“Oh. Yeah,” Cameron said distractedly. It was going to be a rotten Saturday night, all curled up in her big empty house with her suitcase. She’d shipped a box of basics to her new house, but it wasn’t home by any means yet. Maybe she’d stay at her mom’s.
Maybe House was going to pull into her driveway.
The movers closed up the back of the truck, and Cameron signed the form. She’d really gone about this whole moving thing haphazardly, she realized as she watched the truck pull out of her parking lot. Maybe she should have had her things already at her new house. She had a week before her new job started, she had time to get settled.
How hard would it be to move everything back?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
House didn’t know what time she was supposed to leave, but he still couldn’t stop watching the clock. He didn’t know what to do…could he assume that she’d be at work on Monday? That she’d be back that night with Chinese and a movie?
For all his claiming to know her, he really didn’t.
I’m not going to call her. She’s a big girl; if she wants to come back, she knows where I live.
At noon, he got up and made lunch. He brought his phone with him and set it on the counter so he would hear it ring.
By three, he’d had his fill of stupid daytime soaps. He was sick of staring at the phone, sick of dialing six numbers only to hang up before the seventh.
Fuck it. He’d bite the bullet and go over there himself.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Cameron called the taxi from her neighbor’s phone. Somehow, in the jumble of everything, her cell phone had gotten lost and her house phone had been turned off the day before.
Still no House.
She locked her apartment door for the last time and stopped by her landlord’s office on the first floor to drop off the key. Outside, she propped up her suitcase and settled down on the bench to wait for the taxi. Three hours and she’d be flying over the Midwest, to a city she hadn’t lived in for 6 years.
Even while she stared down the entrance of the parking lot, she tried to give herself more reasons that this was a healthy move. Her family was there, her brother and her parents. The job paid twice what she was currently making. She could have her own department. She could have a house, instead of an apartment, and she could get a pet.
The taxi pulled in and the man got out to help her load her things into the trunk. She thanked him politely, sliding in the back seat and leaning her head against the window.
There were good things about moving back to Minnesota. Why were they so hard to reconcile with leaving him?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
House maneuvered his motorcycle into Cameron’s parking lot and parked it against the curb. The parking spaces were unnecessary and he had bigger things on his mind.
He flung his leg over the side of the bike and half limped, half ran to her door.
He knocked against the door with the handle of his cane, his mind racing. What the hell was he supposed to tell her that wouldn’t make him look like a moron? Something big enough to get her stay but not enough so she thought he was going soft in the head.
Christ.
He knocked again, harder this time, and a little old woman appeared at the door next to Cameron’s.
“She’s left, dear,” she said, tottering out of the door with her walker in hand, “The taxi picked her up nearly a half hour ago.”
He felt a little like he’d been kicked in the stomach, “Oh,” he said, and turned to leave the building without another word.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Really romantic things only happened in the movies, Cameron reasoned to herself as she sat at the gate. They didn’t let random people back through the metal detectors anymore, and there would be no declaration of love seconds before she boarded the airplane. She needed to get over herself. He just…he knew she was leaving, and he took advantage of that. It wasn’t as though she had even expected him to change, really.
So quit moping like a lovesick puppy, and stop staring at the hallway like he’s going to appear.
Easier said than done, really, and she was exhausted from the battle playing out in her head. She’d had enough trouble accepting the offer from Mayo to begin with; the events of the previous night just made everything a million times worse.
“Now boarding rows ten to fifteen, please,” The flight attendant announced through the scratchy microphone, “Boarding rows ten to fifteen.”
This was it. It was time to move on. She’d go home, go to work, and maybe run into him at a conference next year. They could greet each other like old colleagues, and she’s reflect on their time together as beneficial to medical career. She was perfectly capable of leaving the past in the past.
And if she kept telling herself that, eventually…it would have to be true.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He banged into his apartment with more frustration than he’d left with. Because he was a stubborn dumbass, she was gone. He could have left thirty minutes sooner and caught her just fine, and likely now she’d be at his apartment, in his arms, where she belonged. But he hadn’t gone, and she was gone.
Maybe last night hadn’t meant anything to her anyway. Maybe it was just convenient - screw House before leaving forever. Not like she’d ever have to really deal with him again - maybe a passing hello at a conference but never like she’d put up with for the last four years.
He fixed himself a drink and dropped to the couch, staring at the TV. He really knew how to fuck up a good thing, didn’t he? He moved to the piano, but his fingers felt clumsy and as he stared at his fingers on the ivory keys, all he could think of was the night before, and his hands on her.
Frustrated, he shoved two Vicodin in his mouth and grabbed his cane, heading for the bedroom. A little slip of paper caught his attention and he leaned down painfully to pick it up.
Ask me to stay
AUTHOR: dragynflies
RATING: PG-13
Pairing: House/Cameron
SUMMARY:
She could stay a little while longer…
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Don’t sue.
Author's Note: This is dedicated to darlingsaila because she's probably the only one dorky enough to get the horrible reference in this fic, which was done on accident.
Cameron woke up before House, still curled up safe and warm in his embrace. She closed her eyes again, holding still so she wouldn’t wake him. Her face was buried in his chest and he had his arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on the crown of her head. She squirmed just a little, finally opening her eyes and turning her head to look at the nightstand. The clock read 5:26; the movers would be there at 10:00 to load her things. Her flight left at 6:00 that night.
She could stay a little while longer…
The job at PPTH was still open. It wasn’t her own department, but she could work her way up…she wouldn’t have to be his underling, she could be his equal. The job at Mayo…didn’t have to be hers. She didn’t need the cute little house in the suburbs that she’d purchased. She could have him.
What was she willing to give up for him?
If she stayed, she wasn’t going to leave. Not ever. She could fall asleep in his arms that
night, wake up with him the next morning. Was she naïve enough to think that he wouldn’t tire of her? Or even that anything real had happened last night…something more than just sex.
It was better if she just…did it. Like ripping off a band-aid. She twisted carefully, sliding her leg out from between his and scooting down to slide out from under his arm. She placed a pillow in the space her body had left, and stood up silently.
He was still sound asleep, snoring slightly as she tugged her panties and jeans back on. She found her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, watching him as she dressed.
Wake up. Wake up and ask me to stay.
She would, and that was what scared her. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and leaned forward, placing a ghost of a kiss on his cheek. She padded softly into his living room and found a green pen and a corner of a scrap paper. She scribbled briefly and snuck back into his bedroom to leave the paper on the pillow.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
House woke up when a familiar twinge shot through his leg. He rolled over on autopilot, grabbing his Vicodin and popping two before he realized something was wrong.
Where the hell was Cameron? He didn’t wait for the medicine to kick in, instead grabbing his cane and limping heavily around his bed. Her clothes were gone. He went into the living room. She’d just gotten up to make coffee, that was all. He was overreacting.
Her shoes were gone.
Fuck. Fuck.
He grabbed his phone, flipping through the numbers until he found Cameron’s.
The number you have called has been disconnected. If you feel you have reached this message in error please hang -
Her cell phone. She wouldn’t have disconnected that, that wouldn’t make any sense.
Hello, you’ve reached Dr. Allison Cameron. I’m unavailable to take your call at this time. Please leave a brief message after the beep. If this is an emergency, please contact --
Frustrated, he dropped the phone onto the coffee table and sank down on his couch. What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t going to beg her to stay.
No matter how much he wanted her to.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
As the movers carried boxes to the van, Cameron watched the driveway into the parking lot of her apartment building for House’s motorcycle. House’s car. House in a taxi, or on a pony for all she cared.
Half of her was afraid he wasn’t coming. The other half was afraid he was.
“Sunday afternoon?” one of the movers asked, a notebook open.
“Hrmm?”
“Sunday afternoon. To bring your things. Will you be there by then?”
“Oh. Yeah,” Cameron said distractedly. It was going to be a rotten Saturday night, all curled up in her big empty house with her suitcase. She’d shipped a box of basics to her new house, but it wasn’t home by any means yet. Maybe she’d stay at her mom’s.
Maybe House was going to pull into her driveway.
The movers closed up the back of the truck, and Cameron signed the form. She’d really gone about this whole moving thing haphazardly, she realized as she watched the truck pull out of her parking lot. Maybe she should have had her things already at her new house. She had a week before her new job started, she had time to get settled.
How hard would it be to move everything back?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
House didn’t know what time she was supposed to leave, but he still couldn’t stop watching the clock. He didn’t know what to do…could he assume that she’d be at work on Monday? That she’d be back that night with Chinese and a movie?
For all his claiming to know her, he really didn’t.
I’m not going to call her. She’s a big girl; if she wants to come back, she knows where I live.
At noon, he got up and made lunch. He brought his phone with him and set it on the counter so he would hear it ring.
By three, he’d had his fill of stupid daytime soaps. He was sick of staring at the phone, sick of dialing six numbers only to hang up before the seventh.
Fuck it. He’d bite the bullet and go over there himself.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Cameron called the taxi from her neighbor’s phone. Somehow, in the jumble of everything, her cell phone had gotten lost and her house phone had been turned off the day before.
Still no House.
She locked her apartment door for the last time and stopped by her landlord’s office on the first floor to drop off the key. Outside, she propped up her suitcase and settled down on the bench to wait for the taxi. Three hours and she’d be flying over the Midwest, to a city she hadn’t lived in for 6 years.
Even while she stared down the entrance of the parking lot, she tried to give herself more reasons that this was a healthy move. Her family was there, her brother and her parents. The job paid twice what she was currently making. She could have her own department. She could have a house, instead of an apartment, and she could get a pet.
The taxi pulled in and the man got out to help her load her things into the trunk. She thanked him politely, sliding in the back seat and leaning her head against the window.
There were good things about moving back to Minnesota. Why were they so hard to reconcile with leaving him?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
House maneuvered his motorcycle into Cameron’s parking lot and parked it against the curb. The parking spaces were unnecessary and he had bigger things on his mind.
He flung his leg over the side of the bike and half limped, half ran to her door.
He knocked against the door with the handle of his cane, his mind racing. What the hell was he supposed to tell her that wouldn’t make him look like a moron? Something big enough to get her stay but not enough so she thought he was going soft in the head.
Christ.
He knocked again, harder this time, and a little old woman appeared at the door next to Cameron’s.
“She’s left, dear,” she said, tottering out of the door with her walker in hand, “The taxi picked her up nearly a half hour ago.”
He felt a little like he’d been kicked in the stomach, “Oh,” he said, and turned to leave the building without another word.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Really romantic things only happened in the movies, Cameron reasoned to herself as she sat at the gate. They didn’t let random people back through the metal detectors anymore, and there would be no declaration of love seconds before she boarded the airplane. She needed to get over herself. He just…he knew she was leaving, and he took advantage of that. It wasn’t as though she had even expected him to change, really.
So quit moping like a lovesick puppy, and stop staring at the hallway like he’s going to appear.
Easier said than done, really, and she was exhausted from the battle playing out in her head. She’d had enough trouble accepting the offer from Mayo to begin with; the events of the previous night just made everything a million times worse.
“Now boarding rows ten to fifteen, please,” The flight attendant announced through the scratchy microphone, “Boarding rows ten to fifteen.”
This was it. It was time to move on. She’d go home, go to work, and maybe run into him at a conference next year. They could greet each other like old colleagues, and she’s reflect on their time together as beneficial to medical career. She was perfectly capable of leaving the past in the past.
And if she kept telling herself that, eventually…it would have to be true.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He banged into his apartment with more frustration than he’d left with. Because he was a stubborn dumbass, she was gone. He could have left thirty minutes sooner and caught her just fine, and likely now she’d be at his apartment, in his arms, where she belonged. But he hadn’t gone, and she was gone.
Maybe last night hadn’t meant anything to her anyway. Maybe it was just convenient - screw House before leaving forever. Not like she’d ever have to really deal with him again - maybe a passing hello at a conference but never like she’d put up with for the last four years.
He fixed himself a drink and dropped to the couch, staring at the TV. He really knew how to fuck up a good thing, didn’t he? He moved to the piano, but his fingers felt clumsy and as he stared at his fingers on the ivory keys, all he could think of was the night before, and his hands on her.
Frustrated, he shoved two Vicodin in his mouth and grabbed his cane, heading for the bedroom. A little slip of paper caught his attention and he leaned down painfully to pick it up.
Ask me to stay