seven letter word for liar 3/19
“We discovered we had a lot in common,” she began, her mind reeling. “We both love red wine, chinese food, and throwing darts at the picture of your face on his living room wall. It’s a great catharsis. You should try it some time. It really releases much of your pent up stress.” house, md. chapter 3. pairing: cameron/house
xxx
Cameron squinted through the darkness, searching for the source of her agitation. She reached blindly to her right, knocking a book off of her nightstand. At last her fingers wrapped around the solid plastic of her phone and she pressed the talk button expecting the worst. Late night phone calls seldom brought good news.
“Hello?” she questioned, trying to make herself sound more awake than she was. The drowsiness still engulfed her and coated her voice, changing her usual sweet tone to a raspy, low pitched tone.
“I can’t tell...Chase or Cameron?” the voice on the other end pondered. “Oh, wait, it must be Cameron, because you only go to Chase’s apartment, not vice versa. Sorry, the unusually unenthusiastic response made me believe you might be someone else."
“When am I ever glad to hear from you?” Cameron asked, annoyed. She leaned back in her bed, shutting her eyes slightly. If she was lucky, she’d be able to talk to House on auto pilot, while the rest of her went back to sleep.
“Hmm,” House remarked sounding a bit offended. “I thought hearing my voice was the sole comfort you had left in your life.” He paused. “I must have confused the two of us with a couple on General Hospital.”
“I doubt the word comfort has ever been uttered in conjunction to your name,” Cameron insisted, rolling onto her side. She checked her alarm clock. Four twenty eight.
“I liked you better before you dyed your hair,” House remarked. “The chemicals in the dye must have soaked into your brain and changed your attitude towards me. I bet brunette Cameron would have been glad to hear from me while she was sleeping. I bet it was one of her many fantasies.”
Cameron sighed in exhaustion. “You have woken me up with your harassing phone calls before,” she reminded him. “And I didn’t like them then. However they were job related, so I bit my tongue. This right now is just annoying.”
She swore she heard House chuckle faintly, but couldn’t be certain. She yawned slightly before continuing. “Are you dying?” she asked.
“Not today.”
“Have you been kidnapped?”
“I can dream, can’t I?”
“Has the hospital burnt down?”
“Now there’s a clever idea.”
“Then why are you bothering me?” Cameron snapped, still unable to wake herself up. “I only got to sleep around one and I have to be at work by seven. You may be a jerk but you’re not downright cruel, so tell me what I’ve done to offend you so I can get back to sleep.”
She lifted the phone from her ear as several loud beeps pierced in response.
“House!” she remarked now angry. “I’m hanging up.”
“Okay, okay,” he began, obviously sorry to end their game. “Did you talk to Wilson?”
“House, it’s four in the morning!” Cameron whined.
“I thought we had the best conversations at this time,” he offered simply.
Cameron wished he was there in person so she could throw the phone, and whatever else was in arm’s reach, at his face. “Go away,” she remarked childishly, wishing she had it in her to just hang up on him. But she would never do that, and House was aware of this. That was why he had called her in the middle of the night, knowing she would never turn him away.
She sighed and propped her head up with a few pillows. “Yes, I talked to Wilson.”
“And?”
“And then I came home, got a shower, sent a few emails, finished some charts I didn’t have time to get to, started a new book, and...”
“And what did he say?” House remarked impatiently.
Cameron was awake enough to smile at his impatience. She could harass him right back if this is how he wanted to play it. She wasn’t going to simply surrender information to him that easily.
“We discovered we had a lot in common,” she began, her mind reeling. “We both love red wine, chinese food, and throwing darts at the picture of your face on his living room wall. It’s a great catharsis. You should try it some time. It really releases much of your pent up stress.”
“I would say I’d love to, but I play the same game with a cutout of Cuddy’s face,” he replied smartly.
“Goodbye House,” Cameron remarked, signifying that their conversation was over unless he got right to the point.
She heard him sigh. She could nearly picture him fighting the urge to utter whatever sardonic comment was on the tip of the tongue and she wondered if repressing these sarcastic urges was actually painful to him. She hoped so.
“How...is he?” he asked plainly, voice void of all humor. It must have all but killed him to string words together into a proper, relatable, meaningful sentence.
And for that, Cameron decided to reward him. “He’s...better than I expected,” she answered honestly. “But, he’s not well. He’s nowhere near the realm of fine.”
House waited.
“What else do you want to know?” Cameron offered.
He didn’t answer.
Cameron shook her head. He really was impossible.
“He seemed to like the company,” she told him. “I’m going over tomorrow night and probably one day over the weekend. I talked to Cuddy and she’s going to be stopping by when she can.”
Still no answer.
She rolled her eyes. He was such a child.
“He’s going to be fine,” she added, thinking this might be what House was looking for. “And, he doesn’t actually hate you...he won’t stay mad forever,” she insisted. “I mean...”
“Dr. Cameron, I would love to sit here and listen to you babble incoherently for hours,” House remarked, yawning theatrically, “but unfortunately, I have work in the morning, and I just can’t indulge in your little fantasy of having long, meaningful conversations with me for a moment longer. I’d tell you to call Dr. Chase, but I doubt he has any thoughts strung together in that impossibly blonde little head of his. Save the talking for your girlfriends.”
Then she heard a click. She exhaled loudly as she reached across her bed to hang the phone back up.
In House-ese, that meant thank you.
xxx
Cameron squinted through the darkness, searching for the source of her agitation. She reached blindly to her right, knocking a book off of her nightstand. At last her fingers wrapped around the solid plastic of her phone and she pressed the talk button expecting the worst. Late night phone calls seldom brought good news.
“Hello?” she questioned, trying to make herself sound more awake than she was. The drowsiness still engulfed her and coated her voice, changing her usual sweet tone to a raspy, low pitched tone.
“I can’t tell...Chase or Cameron?” the voice on the other end pondered. “Oh, wait, it must be Cameron, because you only go to Chase’s apartment, not vice versa. Sorry, the unusually unenthusiastic response made me believe you might be someone else."
“When am I ever glad to hear from you?” Cameron asked, annoyed. She leaned back in her bed, shutting her eyes slightly. If she was lucky, she’d be able to talk to House on auto pilot, while the rest of her went back to sleep.
“Hmm,” House remarked sounding a bit offended. “I thought hearing my voice was the sole comfort you had left in your life.” He paused. “I must have confused the two of us with a couple on General Hospital.”
“I doubt the word comfort has ever been uttered in conjunction to your name,” Cameron insisted, rolling onto her side. She checked her alarm clock. Four twenty eight.
“I liked you better before you dyed your hair,” House remarked. “The chemicals in the dye must have soaked into your brain and changed your attitude towards me. I bet brunette Cameron would have been glad to hear from me while she was sleeping. I bet it was one of her many fantasies.”
Cameron sighed in exhaustion. “You have woken me up with your harassing phone calls before,” she reminded him. “And I didn’t like them then. However they were job related, so I bit my tongue. This right now is just annoying.”
She swore she heard House chuckle faintly, but couldn’t be certain. She yawned slightly before continuing. “Are you dying?” she asked.
“Not today.”
“Have you been kidnapped?”
“I can dream, can’t I?”
“Has the hospital burnt down?”
“Now there’s a clever idea.”
“Then why are you bothering me?” Cameron snapped, still unable to wake herself up. “I only got to sleep around one and I have to be at work by seven. You may be a jerk but you’re not downright cruel, so tell me what I’ve done to offend you so I can get back to sleep.”
She lifted the phone from her ear as several loud beeps pierced in response.
“House!” she remarked now angry. “I’m hanging up.”
“Okay, okay,” he began, obviously sorry to end their game. “Did you talk to Wilson?”
“House, it’s four in the morning!” Cameron whined.
“I thought we had the best conversations at this time,” he offered simply.
Cameron wished he was there in person so she could throw the phone, and whatever else was in arm’s reach, at his face. “Go away,” she remarked childishly, wishing she had it in her to just hang up on him. But she would never do that, and House was aware of this. That was why he had called her in the middle of the night, knowing she would never turn him away.
She sighed and propped her head up with a few pillows. “Yes, I talked to Wilson.”
“And?”
“And then I came home, got a shower, sent a few emails, finished some charts I didn’t have time to get to, started a new book, and...”
“And what did he say?” House remarked impatiently.
Cameron was awake enough to smile at his impatience. She could harass him right back if this is how he wanted to play it. She wasn’t going to simply surrender information to him that easily.
“We discovered we had a lot in common,” she began, her mind reeling. “We both love red wine, chinese food, and throwing darts at the picture of your face on his living room wall. It’s a great catharsis. You should try it some time. It really releases much of your pent up stress.”
“I would say I’d love to, but I play the same game with a cutout of Cuddy’s face,” he replied smartly.
“Goodbye House,” Cameron remarked, signifying that their conversation was over unless he got right to the point.
She heard him sigh. She could nearly picture him fighting the urge to utter whatever sardonic comment was on the tip of the tongue and she wondered if repressing these sarcastic urges was actually painful to him. She hoped so.
“How...is he?” he asked plainly, voice void of all humor. It must have all but killed him to string words together into a proper, relatable, meaningful sentence.
And for that, Cameron decided to reward him. “He’s...better than I expected,” she answered honestly. “But, he’s not well. He’s nowhere near the realm of fine.”
House waited.
“What else do you want to know?” Cameron offered.
He didn’t answer.
Cameron shook her head. He really was impossible.
“He seemed to like the company,” she told him. “I’m going over tomorrow night and probably one day over the weekend. I talked to Cuddy and she’s going to be stopping by when she can.”
Still no answer.
She rolled her eyes. He was such a child.
“He’s going to be fine,” she added, thinking this might be what House was looking for. “And, he doesn’t actually hate you...he won’t stay mad forever,” she insisted. “I mean...”
“Dr. Cameron, I would love to sit here and listen to you babble incoherently for hours,” House remarked, yawning theatrically, “but unfortunately, I have work in the morning, and I just can’t indulge in your little fantasy of having long, meaningful conversations with me for a moment longer. I’d tell you to call Dr. Chase, but I doubt he has any thoughts strung together in that impossibly blonde little head of his. Save the talking for your girlfriends.”
Then she heard a click. She exhaled loudly as she reached across her bed to hang the phone back up.
In House-ese, that meant thank you.