(no subject)
Even for Allison Cameron, there was only so much that she could take in stride before exploding.
Ordinarily, she would have cataloged all the irritations and frustrations and offenses that had led up to this, but even the thought of doing so made her stomach turn over angrily again. Maybe that last strew had been returning covertly to her hut for something and finding that he had also left it. Or maybe it was just day after day of not having the issue resolved.
It didn't help that she didn't feel like she could go to any of the people who would have understood best; they'd all regarded her as a colossal mistake, anyhow. After all, what could House see in her besides sex, right? She wasn't smart enough, interesting enough, tragic enough. Cameron's fate was to be pretty and boring, or so she'd guessed.
She'd picked up the baseball bat from the games closet, and the fruit was easy enough to find without raiding the kitchen's supplies. Cameron hauled it all out into a clearing where there was a giant rock, and began the process of carefully placing a fruit in the middle of the rock, and then bludgeoning it into a fine puree with her baseball bat.
It felt good.
After several mangoes, a coconut and a few bananas, she was hot, sweaty, and sticky with fruit juice. The area around her was a massacre, and she hoped the footsteps behind her would at least be someone she didn't know, or nobody who really loved fruit.
Ordinarily, she would have cataloged all the irritations and frustrations and offenses that had led up to this, but even the thought of doing so made her stomach turn over angrily again. Maybe that last strew had been returning covertly to her hut for something and finding that he had also left it. Or maybe it was just day after day of not having the issue resolved.
It didn't help that she didn't feel like she could go to any of the people who would have understood best; they'd all regarded her as a colossal mistake, anyhow. After all, what could House see in her besides sex, right? She wasn't smart enough, interesting enough, tragic enough. Cameron's fate was to be pretty and boring, or so she'd guessed.
She'd picked up the baseball bat from the games closet, and the fruit was easy enough to find without raiding the kitchen's supplies. Cameron hauled it all out into a clearing where there was a giant rock, and began the process of carefully placing a fruit in the middle of the rock, and then bludgeoning it into a fine puree with her baseball bat.
It felt good.
After several mangoes, a coconut and a few bananas, she was hot, sweaty, and sticky with fruit juice. The area around her was a massacre, and she hoped the footsteps behind her would at least be someone she didn't know, or nobody who really loved fruit.