All Rodents' Eve - Part Six
Yes, yes, this is late... blah. It's so annoying when work gets in the way of fiction! Here we have House and Cameron continuing Halloween with little Steve McQueen. I haven't decided whether or not to write a final NC-17 rated epilogue yet ;)
All Rodents' Eve - Part Six
An hour after that first knock, four bags of candy were gone and the kids were still coming. Cameron was handing out treats with a smile on her face and Steve on her shoulder. House had poured out two glasses of scotch and was making a fire. Like most men, fire building was a job he enjoyed. Unlike most men, he’d actually analyzed the reasons why. Fire was destructive and dangerous and being in control of it was a powerful feeling. It was, in fact, very similar to the feelings he got while working, and in some ways, better. He could always diagnose what was wrong with a person, but he couldn’t always cure it. His control in that matter was frustratingly limited.
The paper he’d stuck between the neatly stacked logs curled up and shriveled away as he watched the flames consume it and lick at the dry wood. When he was sure that he didn’t need to add any more paper or kindling, he closed the fire screen and reached out for his cane. Kneeling down wasn’t one of his favorite activities, and he levered himself to his feet, noting that at least it didn’t seem to hurt quite as much as it had six months earlier. It was one in a list of things that deserved his gratitude, but he generally didn’t like to think about that list. Expressing gratitude for something meant that you were just one step away from having it taken away.
Giggling children made him look over at Cameron, and he saw that Steve was peeking out from under her hair, much to the amusement of the little moppet at the door dressed as Cinderella. It was a scene right out of a Hallmark commercial, albeit a strange one, and he stared at them and then at the fire and then at himself, reflected dimly in the bowed window behind the piano. He suddenly felt that he was Ozzie Nelson, and Cameron was playing the part of Harriet while Steve was ‘point five’ of their children. That much normalcy made him uncomfortable in the same way that gratitude made him uncomfortable.
He thumped away from the fire, slouched down on the sofa with his feet up and dropped his cane to the floor. Cameron glanced over her shoulder at him and looked like she was about to open her mouth to say something in response to his grim expression, but the soft rapping at the door grabbed her attention again, and she opened it and smiled at the group of children shouting their Halloween greeting.
Over the next ten minutes, House’s quietness became increasingly troubling to her. He had been fairly well-behaved earlier; opening bags of candy for her, insulting the costumes only after the kids were on their way to the next house, and even those insults ended up sounding closer to heavily veiled compliments. Now he was concentrating on the shifting flames in the fireplace and studiously avoiding her and the door. Another group of children, accompanied by their father, knocked at the door and she put her musings aside while she answered it, handed out the candy and fielded questions about little Steve.
When she closed the door, House was still staring into the fire, but the words coming out of his mouth were directed at her.
“Trying to pick up men by using Steve to get their interest? I thought only men operated that way.”
She put the bowl of candy down on the table beside the door and walked over to the sofa. House might prefer not to face her when he spoke, but one thing she’d learned during their relationship was that eye contact was essential.
“Why would I be picking up men when I’ve already snagged you?” she quipped.
He snorted in response and she pushed his legs out of the way and sat down. The little twitch beside his left eye told her that he was thinking too much, and the straight line of his mouth told her that it wasn’t about good things.
“What’s wrong? Half an hour ago, you were in a good mood. Well, as good as they get for you, anyway.”
“Moodiness is one of my charms. I thought you knew that.”
“True, but that doesn’t mean I can’t tell when there’s something bothering you. Are you going to tell me what it is, or are you going to sulk and ruin your chances of seeing me in that ridiculous outfit you bought me?”
One eyebrow rose and he slowly turned towards her. He could tell that her threat was serious and even with the sudden cloud of pessimism hovering over him, that threat was one that got his attention.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he griped. “That’s the problem. It’s all feeling just a little too domestic. I don’t like that. We should not resemble a sitcom family. That much saccharine is one step from cancellation.”
Cameron reached up to her shoulder, retrieved Steve and held him out to House.
“Sitcoms have fluffy dogs and cute kids. They don’t have rats,” she said bluntly. “Having a night or even a few nights of relative contentment does not mean that the world about to end.”
“That’s what you think. Familiarity breeds contempt. There’s no way all of this is going to last,” he replied, motioning in the air to encompass the room, the fire, Steve and the two of them.
“So?”
He blinked at her. That wasn’t the response he was expecting and he wasn’t prepared to rebut it.
“Is the fact that you think none of this is going to last, a reason not to enjoy it while it does?”
He blinked again. She was supposed to be arguing that of course things were going to last forever, and that he should cheer up and be happy about life. He looked into her eyes and saw the seriousness there. She wasn’t looking at their life together with anything but a clear eye and a rational mind. There were definitely no rose-colored glasses involved. He supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised at her attitude. It had been almost a year since the weekend she’d kept Steve, and he’d never seen any signs of over-enthusiasm or unbounded joy. Most of the time, she was almost as cautious and guarded as he was.
“I really don’t believe in happily ever after,” she said, “but I’ve learned not to squander the happiness I do have.”
Steve chose that moment to scurry from House’s hands and up to his shoulder, little whiskers tickling at his ear, and ratty breath drifting against his neck. House considered that Cameron might have a point and apparently Steve was trying to reinforce it. He grunted in Cameron’s general direction, because he was never one to verbally admit that he was wrong. Luckily she didn’t require that because she could see the tight lines in his face relax and that was good enough for her. A loud knock broke the silence and she gave him a little smile, chanced a brush of her fingertips along his knee, and stood to answer the door.
When eight o’clock rolled around and the last of the costumed kiddos finished their rounds, Cameron collapsed onto the sofa with the empty candy bowl in her lap.
“You have that many kids every year?” she asked, looking a bit weary, but happy.
“Wouldn’t know. I usually turn off all the lights and pretend I’m not here.”
Cameron’s short burst of laughter was followed by, “I should have known.”
Steve had been returned to his cage, and he was happily eating his food and preparing for a nice long nap. Cameron nodded in his direction.
“Looks like Steve’s going to survive,” she commented dryly.
“Hmm. He got lucky.”
Cameron rolled her eyes and soaked in the warmth from the fire and the strong body next to her.
“So, you ready for some scary movies now?” House asked, face contorting into an expression of boyish excitement. “I’m sure we can find plenty of gore-fests on tv.”
“Let’s not and say we did.”
“Ghost stories?”
“I don’t really want to think about people haunting me.” She was concentrating on the fire and tugging at her lower lip and House immediately knew what she was thinking about.
They had never discussed it. There had been that one moment in the chapel and Cameron had stayed at her own apartment for a few nights, and then they had resumed their usual routine and not another word had been said. He hadn’t even commented when she’d given him Ezra’s chart to sign off on.
They’d never talked about it, and House didn’t really want to start now, but his mouth opened anyway, and words fell out.
“I think he’d be thanking you, not haunting you.”
She shrugged and replied, “Maybe.”
“I--”
“I was glad you came and found me that morning,” she said, cutting him off. “I needed you to acknowledge what I’d done… not to validate it, but just to know. I’m still not sure why.”
House knew why. Helping a person die, even at that person’s request, was an incredibly hard burden to carry alone.
“Saying you were proud of me was the best and worst thing you could have said.”
“Scared that it meant you were becoming a little too much like me? That really would be horrific. Especially the three-day scruff.” He tried to sound offended, but he actually wasn’t. He could understand what she’d been going through. He’d been there himself.
“Scared that I could lose myself to you,” she replied quietly.
“Well what’s wrong with that? After all, I’m always right.”
His words were easing the knot that had formed in her stomach, and she smirked at him.
“First of all, you’re not always right, and second, I don’t want to lose myself to anyone. I’ve already done that once.”
The serious tone of her last sentence made House put aside the snarky joke he’d planned.
“You’re learning some hard lessons. You aren’t losing yourself to anyone. You’re stronger than that, and trust me, I’d fire you before I let you turn into me.”
She looked up at him and a tiny crinkle appeared above the bridge of her nose as she concentrated on reading his ever-mercurial features.
“You really would.”
“Damn right. Cuddy can barely handle one of me. I don’t need any clones.”
He made the unusual move of letting his arm slide off the back of the sofa and fall across her shoulders. When he tugged her closer and let her rest her head against his shoulder, he told himself it was because he didn’t want to look at those doe eyes of hers any more.
Cameron concentrated on the warmth again. Warmth from the fire, the room, House, and the little glow that refused to be tamped down by her more cynical side. She would take her own advice about enjoying the moment. They were quiet as they sat there, listening to the wind pick up outside and watching the flames slowly burn down.
“So,” House said, as the last log collapsed in on itself, “When do I get to see that stunning little ass of yours in costume?”
It was entirely typical and Cameron shook her head while at the same time, grinning. She pulled herself from House’s loose, one-armed embrace and walked towards the bedroom.
“I believe that your appointment is in ten minutes,” she said coyly, from the doorway. “Don’t be late.”
House felt the stirrings of certain parts of his anatomy as she disappeared inside and shut the door. He definitely wasn’t going to be late.
All Rodents' Eve - Part Six
An hour after that first knock, four bags of candy were gone and the kids were still coming. Cameron was handing out treats with a smile on her face and Steve on her shoulder. House had poured out two glasses of scotch and was making a fire. Like most men, fire building was a job he enjoyed. Unlike most men, he’d actually analyzed the reasons why. Fire was destructive and dangerous and being in control of it was a powerful feeling. It was, in fact, very similar to the feelings he got while working, and in some ways, better. He could always diagnose what was wrong with a person, but he couldn’t always cure it. His control in that matter was frustratingly limited.
The paper he’d stuck between the neatly stacked logs curled up and shriveled away as he watched the flames consume it and lick at the dry wood. When he was sure that he didn’t need to add any more paper or kindling, he closed the fire screen and reached out for his cane. Kneeling down wasn’t one of his favorite activities, and he levered himself to his feet, noting that at least it didn’t seem to hurt quite as much as it had six months earlier. It was one in a list of things that deserved his gratitude, but he generally didn’t like to think about that list. Expressing gratitude for something meant that you were just one step away from having it taken away.
Giggling children made him look over at Cameron, and he saw that Steve was peeking out from under her hair, much to the amusement of the little moppet at the door dressed as Cinderella. It was a scene right out of a Hallmark commercial, albeit a strange one, and he stared at them and then at the fire and then at himself, reflected dimly in the bowed window behind the piano. He suddenly felt that he was Ozzie Nelson, and Cameron was playing the part of Harriet while Steve was ‘point five’ of their children. That much normalcy made him uncomfortable in the same way that gratitude made him uncomfortable.
He thumped away from the fire, slouched down on the sofa with his feet up and dropped his cane to the floor. Cameron glanced over her shoulder at him and looked like she was about to open her mouth to say something in response to his grim expression, but the soft rapping at the door grabbed her attention again, and she opened it and smiled at the group of children shouting their Halloween greeting.
Over the next ten minutes, House’s quietness became increasingly troubling to her. He had been fairly well-behaved earlier; opening bags of candy for her, insulting the costumes only after the kids were on their way to the next house, and even those insults ended up sounding closer to heavily veiled compliments. Now he was concentrating on the shifting flames in the fireplace and studiously avoiding her and the door. Another group of children, accompanied by their father, knocked at the door and she put her musings aside while she answered it, handed out the candy and fielded questions about little Steve.
When she closed the door, House was still staring into the fire, but the words coming out of his mouth were directed at her.
“Trying to pick up men by using Steve to get their interest? I thought only men operated that way.”
She put the bowl of candy down on the table beside the door and walked over to the sofa. House might prefer not to face her when he spoke, but one thing she’d learned during their relationship was that eye contact was essential.
“Why would I be picking up men when I’ve already snagged you?” she quipped.
He snorted in response and she pushed his legs out of the way and sat down. The little twitch beside his left eye told her that he was thinking too much, and the straight line of his mouth told her that it wasn’t about good things.
“What’s wrong? Half an hour ago, you were in a good mood. Well, as good as they get for you, anyway.”
“Moodiness is one of my charms. I thought you knew that.”
“True, but that doesn’t mean I can’t tell when there’s something bothering you. Are you going to tell me what it is, or are you going to sulk and ruin your chances of seeing me in that ridiculous outfit you bought me?”
One eyebrow rose and he slowly turned towards her. He could tell that her threat was serious and even with the sudden cloud of pessimism hovering over him, that threat was one that got his attention.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he griped. “That’s the problem. It’s all feeling just a little too domestic. I don’t like that. We should not resemble a sitcom family. That much saccharine is one step from cancellation.”
Cameron reached up to her shoulder, retrieved Steve and held him out to House.
“Sitcoms have fluffy dogs and cute kids. They don’t have rats,” she said bluntly. “Having a night or even a few nights of relative contentment does not mean that the world about to end.”
“That’s what you think. Familiarity breeds contempt. There’s no way all of this is going to last,” he replied, motioning in the air to encompass the room, the fire, Steve and the two of them.
“So?”
He blinked at her. That wasn’t the response he was expecting and he wasn’t prepared to rebut it.
“Is the fact that you think none of this is going to last, a reason not to enjoy it while it does?”
He blinked again. She was supposed to be arguing that of course things were going to last forever, and that he should cheer up and be happy about life. He looked into her eyes and saw the seriousness there. She wasn’t looking at their life together with anything but a clear eye and a rational mind. There were definitely no rose-colored glasses involved. He supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised at her attitude. It had been almost a year since the weekend she’d kept Steve, and he’d never seen any signs of over-enthusiasm or unbounded joy. Most of the time, she was almost as cautious and guarded as he was.
“I really don’t believe in happily ever after,” she said, “but I’ve learned not to squander the happiness I do have.”
Steve chose that moment to scurry from House’s hands and up to his shoulder, little whiskers tickling at his ear, and ratty breath drifting against his neck. House considered that Cameron might have a point and apparently Steve was trying to reinforce it. He grunted in Cameron’s general direction, because he was never one to verbally admit that he was wrong. Luckily she didn’t require that because she could see the tight lines in his face relax and that was good enough for her. A loud knock broke the silence and she gave him a little smile, chanced a brush of her fingertips along his knee, and stood to answer the door.
When eight o’clock rolled around and the last of the costumed kiddos finished their rounds, Cameron collapsed onto the sofa with the empty candy bowl in her lap.
“You have that many kids every year?” she asked, looking a bit weary, but happy.
“Wouldn’t know. I usually turn off all the lights and pretend I’m not here.”
Cameron’s short burst of laughter was followed by, “I should have known.”
Steve had been returned to his cage, and he was happily eating his food and preparing for a nice long nap. Cameron nodded in his direction.
“Looks like Steve’s going to survive,” she commented dryly.
“Hmm. He got lucky.”
Cameron rolled her eyes and soaked in the warmth from the fire and the strong body next to her.
“So, you ready for some scary movies now?” House asked, face contorting into an expression of boyish excitement. “I’m sure we can find plenty of gore-fests on tv.”
“Let’s not and say we did.”
“Ghost stories?”
“I don’t really want to think about people haunting me.” She was concentrating on the fire and tugging at her lower lip and House immediately knew what she was thinking about.
They had never discussed it. There had been that one moment in the chapel and Cameron had stayed at her own apartment for a few nights, and then they had resumed their usual routine and not another word had been said. He hadn’t even commented when she’d given him Ezra’s chart to sign off on.
They’d never talked about it, and House didn’t really want to start now, but his mouth opened anyway, and words fell out.
“I think he’d be thanking you, not haunting you.”
She shrugged and replied, “Maybe.”
“I--”
“I was glad you came and found me that morning,” she said, cutting him off. “I needed you to acknowledge what I’d done… not to validate it, but just to know. I’m still not sure why.”
House knew why. Helping a person die, even at that person’s request, was an incredibly hard burden to carry alone.
“Saying you were proud of me was the best and worst thing you could have said.”
“Scared that it meant you were becoming a little too much like me? That really would be horrific. Especially the three-day scruff.” He tried to sound offended, but he actually wasn’t. He could understand what she’d been going through. He’d been there himself.
“Scared that I could lose myself to you,” she replied quietly.
“Well what’s wrong with that? After all, I’m always right.”
His words were easing the knot that had formed in her stomach, and she smirked at him.
“First of all, you’re not always right, and second, I don’t want to lose myself to anyone. I’ve already done that once.”
The serious tone of her last sentence made House put aside the snarky joke he’d planned.
“You’re learning some hard lessons. You aren’t losing yourself to anyone. You’re stronger than that, and trust me, I’d fire you before I let you turn into me.”
She looked up at him and a tiny crinkle appeared above the bridge of her nose as she concentrated on reading his ever-mercurial features.
“You really would.”
“Damn right. Cuddy can barely handle one of me. I don’t need any clones.”
He made the unusual move of letting his arm slide off the back of the sofa and fall across her shoulders. When he tugged her closer and let her rest her head against his shoulder, he told himself it was because he didn’t want to look at those doe eyes of hers any more.
Cameron concentrated on the warmth again. Warmth from the fire, the room, House, and the little glow that refused to be tamped down by her more cynical side. She would take her own advice about enjoying the moment. They were quiet as they sat there, listening to the wind pick up outside and watching the flames slowly burn down.
“So,” House said, as the last log collapsed in on itself, “When do I get to see that stunning little ass of yours in costume?”
It was entirely typical and Cameron shook her head while at the same time, grinning. She pulled herself from House’s loose, one-armed embrace and walked towards the bedroom.
“I believe that your appointment is in ten minutes,” she said coyly, from the doorway. “Don’t be late.”
House felt the stirrings of certain parts of his anatomy as she disappeared inside and shut the door. He definitely wasn’t going to be late.