You Seem So Disconnected, She's Interested
Author: plum_pink
Title: You Seem So Disconnected, She's Interested
Rating:pg
Pairing: house/cameron
Disclaimer: Don't own House, M.D.
Summary: House receives a pep talk from Stacy regarding Cameron.
“She’s interested.” Stacy leans against the window wall with various items in her hands. An empty coffee cup and some files, probably paperwork to get her settled into her new job. House looks up from his television and drops his gaze back to the screen ignoring her statement.
She pulls forward and drops some of her things on his already cluttered desk and takes a seat.
“She’s interested.” Stacy repeats and crosses her long legs. “You gonna jump her?” She asks in a faint drawl.
House rolls his eyes, and takes a hold of his right leg and swings it back to the floor. “That’s certainly none of your business.” He answers with mock superiority, head raised and chin up.
“She said you went on a date.”
“It was the only way to get her to come back and work for me. I was doing it for the greater good of the team. You should’ve seen Foreman and Chase, pretty primordial watching them trying to figure out how to make coffee.” He collects an envelope and stuffs it into his coat pocket.
“I’d hit that. She’s got that whole young and innocent look going on, you love that.” House stands and crumples another piece of paper. He aims for the metal trash can, it goes in and he pumps his fist lightly.
“Late for clinic duty.” He says and moves from behind his desk. Long fingers turn the dial on the TV, shutting it off. “You can leave now.”
“I know you Greg, you hate clinic duty more than anything. You just want me out of here.”
“And still you haven’t taken the hint.” He groans and rubs at his forehead. He always folds when it comes to Stacy, he can’t not give into her. The same reason why he took her husbands case, she doesn’t back down easily.
“Cameron’s...really young.” He breathes out, his way of an explanation.
“And?” Stacy urges.
“She wants to fix me. I don’t need fixing.” Stacy puts her hand on his chest and rubs him gentle.
“Oh Greg, maybe she likes you the way you are.” Her lips go to the corner of his mouth and she presses a soft kiss to it. They break apart as the glass door slides into place, and a timid Cameron clears her throat.
“We have a new case from the clinic.” With an outstretched arm she holds the file to him. House takes it and opens it, scanning it’s contents. His gaze drifts to Cameron who’s been watching him as he reads. A quick snap and the folder is closed.
“Round up the boys for a differential. It’s lunch time.”
“It’s 4:27.” Cameron says, she checks her pager.
“I didn’t say here. Maybe in Sacramento.” He gives her the file and limps pass the two.
He finds her in the pathology lab. Chase and Foreman have exited stage right, leaving her to run the test in the wee hours of the night.
House peers at her through the glass. A look of concentration on her face as she pulls and drops fluids in test tubes and petri dishes. He pushes through the door and she looks up, slightly startled.
“I ran the ANA, negative for Lupus.” She starts off putting on her eye glasses.
“It’s never Lupus.” He counters taking a seat in a nearby stool. Cameron clears her throat and looks down at the smattering of test tubes. It’s hard to believe that the boys left her to do all of them by herself. She looks tired and overwhelmed with the work laid out before her.
Her dark curls run and slide over her shoulders, their coils still intact despite the hour of the day. Posture is stiff and uncomfortable, she sits with her back straight as she goes through the motions. He’s not use to seeing that glimmer of optimism in her, the need to remain on the same direction of her moral compass.
“Go home.” He tells her and bounces his cane against the floor for emphasis.
“I’m fine. I just have a few more to do.” She ignores his order.
“Oh, I’m sorry you thought that was a suggestion.” House puts the microscope out of focus, and she lets out a quiet curse. “Go.” He watches her mentally weigh her options and pull away from the scope.
“Her husbands going through rehab. She’s vulnerable.” Cameron blurts out.
“Thanks, I’ll take that into consideration. Now go.” He jerks his head in the direction of the exit and she stands. The tail of her lab coat flapping as she walks.
Advice about two women in one day. Stacy always loved to butt in and Cameron never knew when to give in. They had similar qualities, they were both nagging women who shared a unique fascination of a certain unrelenting doctor.
House walks back to his office and packs up, with his backpack slung over his shoulder he mounts his bike and weaves through the streets of Princeton, until he arrives at the townhouse. With an unceremonious dump of his back, he’s freed himself of the confiding paperwork Stacy has left in his care, a post-it note stuck to the front marked urgent. He figures he’ll bring it back to his place and watch it collect dust. Better here than on his desk, where he might actually have to do work.
The scotch tumbles around the ice, filling in the empty crevices they’ve created. Tonight, he’ll have it “on the rocks” a fitting term for the current state of his life. Coltrain plays smoothly, the music practically dripping from the speakers. He takes a sip from the glass and reclines, his long limbs spread out on his couch. A typical night, for a 47 year old bachelor.
A quick call to his mother tomorrow is in order. He’s blown her off a few times this week. She means well, he can’t deny her a check up. His fingers itch to pick up his cordless and get it over with now, but a knock on the door interrupts his evening alone. An involuntary hiss escapes his mouth as he rises and limps to the door without the aid of his cane.
He pulls the door open and finds Cameron on the other side. She’s ringing her hands nervously, the cool night air has brought out a nice pink to her cheeks. The grey sweater she’s wearing is wrapped tightly around her small form as she stands in his doorway.
“When I said go home, I meant your home.”
“Can I come in?” She asks ignoring the snipe. House sighs and slowly moves out of the way as she walks past him.
He limps back to his coffee table and swallows the rest of his drink. A strange feeling telling him that he’ll need it.
“Couldn’t we have talked about our feelings on Monday? I was kind of in the middle of something.” He points to the now empty glass he’s placed on the table.
“Why weren’t you interested?” She lays her cards out, face up. He grits his teeth wishing he didn’t put the scotch away,
“You’ve talked to Stacy.”
“No. Yes. No and Yes. She has nothing to do with it. This is about us.”
“There is no ‘us’! “ He exclaims.
She pauses before she continues, probably to gather up courage. “So you’d rather be with a married woman than even consider anything with me?”
The look she gives him melts, just a little. She’s all pale skin and pink lips, looking up at him expectedly.
He chides himself for opening the door.
“I don’t want to be with Stacy.” He admits. But he’s said to much. It’s none of her business.
“It’s none of your business.”
“I know.” There’s a breath of relief. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come.” She turns to leave but stalls. “Please don’t hold this against me.”
House shrugs and invades her space. “You haven’t done anything worth mentioning.” He can’t help but belittle her attempt to connect with him. She opens up to him so willingly without asking for anything in return. A hand grabs her wrist. Her breath catches as he pushes the heavy fabric out of the way revealing the smooth unbearably soft skin.
His grip on her tightens as he leers at her, but then he lets go.
Cameron backs up and reaches for the door knob, lethargy written in her movements.
“See you on Monday.” She says softly. House gives a her a curt nod and she slips into the night, leaving him with his thoughts and a bottle of scotch.
Title: You Seem So Disconnected, She's Interested
Rating:pg
Pairing: house/cameron
Disclaimer: Don't own House, M.D.
Summary: House receives a pep talk from Stacy regarding Cameron.
“She’s interested.” Stacy leans against the window wall with various items in her hands. An empty coffee cup and some files, probably paperwork to get her settled into her new job. House looks up from his television and drops his gaze back to the screen ignoring her statement.
She pulls forward and drops some of her things on his already cluttered desk and takes a seat.
“She’s interested.” Stacy repeats and crosses her long legs. “You gonna jump her?” She asks in a faint drawl.
House rolls his eyes, and takes a hold of his right leg and swings it back to the floor. “That’s certainly none of your business.” He answers with mock superiority, head raised and chin up.
“She said you went on a date.”
“It was the only way to get her to come back and work for me. I was doing it for the greater good of the team. You should’ve seen Foreman and Chase, pretty primordial watching them trying to figure out how to make coffee.” He collects an envelope and stuffs it into his coat pocket.
“I’d hit that. She’s got that whole young and innocent look going on, you love that.” House stands and crumples another piece of paper. He aims for the metal trash can, it goes in and he pumps his fist lightly.
“Late for clinic duty.” He says and moves from behind his desk. Long fingers turn the dial on the TV, shutting it off. “You can leave now.”
“I know you Greg, you hate clinic duty more than anything. You just want me out of here.”
“And still you haven’t taken the hint.” He groans and rubs at his forehead. He always folds when it comes to Stacy, he can’t not give into her. The same reason why he took her husbands case, she doesn’t back down easily.
“Cameron’s...really young.” He breathes out, his way of an explanation.
“And?” Stacy urges.
“She wants to fix me. I don’t need fixing.” Stacy puts her hand on his chest and rubs him gentle.
“Oh Greg, maybe she likes you the way you are.” Her lips go to the corner of his mouth and she presses a soft kiss to it. They break apart as the glass door slides into place, and a timid Cameron clears her throat.
“We have a new case from the clinic.” With an outstretched arm she holds the file to him. House takes it and opens it, scanning it’s contents. His gaze drifts to Cameron who’s been watching him as he reads. A quick snap and the folder is closed.
“Round up the boys for a differential. It’s lunch time.”
“It’s 4:27.” Cameron says, she checks her pager.
“I didn’t say here. Maybe in Sacramento.” He gives her the file and limps pass the two.
He finds her in the pathology lab. Chase and Foreman have exited stage right, leaving her to run the test in the wee hours of the night.
House peers at her through the glass. A look of concentration on her face as she pulls and drops fluids in test tubes and petri dishes. He pushes through the door and she looks up, slightly startled.
“I ran the ANA, negative for Lupus.” She starts off putting on her eye glasses.
“It’s never Lupus.” He counters taking a seat in a nearby stool. Cameron clears her throat and looks down at the smattering of test tubes. It’s hard to believe that the boys left her to do all of them by herself. She looks tired and overwhelmed with the work laid out before her.
Her dark curls run and slide over her shoulders, their coils still intact despite the hour of the day. Posture is stiff and uncomfortable, she sits with her back straight as she goes through the motions. He’s not use to seeing that glimmer of optimism in her, the need to remain on the same direction of her moral compass.
“Go home.” He tells her and bounces his cane against the floor for emphasis.
“I’m fine. I just have a few more to do.” She ignores his order.
“Oh, I’m sorry you thought that was a suggestion.” House puts the microscope out of focus, and she lets out a quiet curse. “Go.” He watches her mentally weigh her options and pull away from the scope.
“Her husbands going through rehab. She’s vulnerable.” Cameron blurts out.
“Thanks, I’ll take that into consideration. Now go.” He jerks his head in the direction of the exit and she stands. The tail of her lab coat flapping as she walks.
Advice about two women in one day. Stacy always loved to butt in and Cameron never knew when to give in. They had similar qualities, they were both nagging women who shared a unique fascination of a certain unrelenting doctor.
House walks back to his office and packs up, with his backpack slung over his shoulder he mounts his bike and weaves through the streets of Princeton, until he arrives at the townhouse. With an unceremonious dump of his back, he’s freed himself of the confiding paperwork Stacy has left in his care, a post-it note stuck to the front marked urgent. He figures he’ll bring it back to his place and watch it collect dust. Better here than on his desk, where he might actually have to do work.
The scotch tumbles around the ice, filling in the empty crevices they’ve created. Tonight, he’ll have it “on the rocks” a fitting term for the current state of his life. Coltrain plays smoothly, the music practically dripping from the speakers. He takes a sip from the glass and reclines, his long limbs spread out on his couch. A typical night, for a 47 year old bachelor.
A quick call to his mother tomorrow is in order. He’s blown her off a few times this week. She means well, he can’t deny her a check up. His fingers itch to pick up his cordless and get it over with now, but a knock on the door interrupts his evening alone. An involuntary hiss escapes his mouth as he rises and limps to the door without the aid of his cane.
He pulls the door open and finds Cameron on the other side. She’s ringing her hands nervously, the cool night air has brought out a nice pink to her cheeks. The grey sweater she’s wearing is wrapped tightly around her small form as she stands in his doorway.
“When I said go home, I meant your home.”
“Can I come in?” She asks ignoring the snipe. House sighs and slowly moves out of the way as she walks past him.
He limps back to his coffee table and swallows the rest of his drink. A strange feeling telling him that he’ll need it.
“Couldn’t we have talked about our feelings on Monday? I was kind of in the middle of something.” He points to the now empty glass he’s placed on the table.
“Why weren’t you interested?” She lays her cards out, face up. He grits his teeth wishing he didn’t put the scotch away,
“You’ve talked to Stacy.”
“No. Yes. No and Yes. She has nothing to do with it. This is about us.”
“There is no ‘us’! “ He exclaims.
She pauses before she continues, probably to gather up courage. “So you’d rather be with a married woman than even consider anything with me?”
The look she gives him melts, just a little. She’s all pale skin and pink lips, looking up at him expectedly.
He chides himself for opening the door.
“I don’t want to be with Stacy.” He admits. But he’s said to much. It’s none of her business.
“It’s none of your business.”
“I know.” There’s a breath of relief. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come.” She turns to leave but stalls. “Please don’t hold this against me.”
House shrugs and invades her space. “You haven’t done anything worth mentioning.” He can’t help but belittle her attempt to connect with him. She opens up to him so willingly without asking for anything in return. A hand grabs her wrist. Her breath catches as he pushes the heavy fabric out of the way revealing the smooth unbearably soft skin.
His grip on her tightens as he leers at her, but then he lets go.
Cameron backs up and reaches for the door knob, lethargy written in her movements.
“See you on Monday.” She says softly. House gives a her a curt nod and she slips into the night, leaving him with his thoughts and a bottle of scotch.