House fic: The storm is getting closer; 1/1
Title: The storm is getting closer
Pairing: House, slight House/Cameron
Rating: PG
Summary: She was more like him than Cuddy, and she was starting to grasp that. It was a little too easy to get Cameron to break. House fic. Post Big Baby. 1,212 words.
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It was a little too easy to get Cameron to break.
She was floundering. She hadn’t figured out her place since leaving his team. She skipped from ER to upper management, but she didn’t belong in either. The sooner it was she realised that, the better. It wasn’t his job to show her that anymore but it didn’t mean he had to make the process easy on her. Testing the boundaries of her new position was necessary - he couldn’t do his job if he didn’t know the qualms and tells of his opponent. And she’d turned out to be a sturdier adversary than expected.
Still, she was a doctor at heart. Not an administrator. A diagnostician. It just happened to work in his favour that he already knew that, and she didn’t.
She looked pale in her pink scrubs when he saw her the following day, eating an early lunch in the cafeteria. She was alone. No Chase and no Foreman, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered approaching her. There was no sense treading that pseudo support network.
As he drew nearer he had to admit she looked dispirited. She was skimming through a file whilst chewing on a sandwich, and she absentmindedly brushed away the crumbs.
She’d been so perky and assertive the other day. Determined to prove the naysayers wrong. It seemed almost criminal to crush that naiveté. She still had it in droves; it just manifested itself more obliquely these days. Behind droll sarcasm and a calm demeanour.
"So Cuddy didn’t let you keep the outfit, huh?" he started glibly, hovering over her table. "Shame. That’s what you get for raiding the grown-up’s closet."
"It didn’t go so well with blood and vomit," Cameron replied, barely looking up from her file.
He slid into the booth across from her, propping his cane against the edge. It was rare for her to express some dissatisfaction with the ER, but she had obviously retained a modicum of vulnerability.
"Did you want something?" she continued, turning a page. "To gloat, or do a victory dance, maybe?"
"Ouch. Way to bring up the cripple issue."
"I’m busy. The ER’s backed up and I don’t have the longest lunch break."
He’d considered the idea that Cuddy might have fired her before quickly dismissing it. Cuddy was too desperate, and despite the fact that she’d defied her recommendation with the brain procedure, Cameron hadn’t done a terrible job.
"I thought you’d hold out for at least another day or two," he said idly.
"Well Cuddy’s back. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?"
He studied her downturned head. It was odd, seeing her interact with Cuddy as a peer. Rubbing shoulders with the big guys. It overlapped with his memory of the quiet young doctor who cared too much and followed him around with moon eyes. Two conflicting personas; merging into a woman who eluded him more than before. He’d never had the opportunity to watch doctors under his tutelage move on and evolve - and admittedly, he’d never been as personally vested as he was with the last three. He might joke about it, but it was unsettling watching them surpass him. He had never been remotely interested in politics or climbing the professional ladder. But it did remind him that he stood by, dormant, as they moved on.
"In the end you’re all interchangeable."
"Right," she scoffed, not believing it. She knew there were things going on between him and Cuddy, even if he’d never told her. And she was right, he did prefer Cuddy in charge. Though that wasn’t the reason for it.
"Cuddy’s predictable. And you’re a sucky administrator."
"When managing you falls under the job description, apparently so."
He rolled his eyes. "Oh don’t feel bad. Foreman learnt that the hard way too. Hey, think Chase’ll be next to step up to the plate?"
She sighed, closing her file and crumpling up her plastic wrapper.
"I have work to get back to."
"You’re pissed at me," he observed, staying where he was. She paused halfway up in her seat. The tense line of her shoulders and repressed turn of her mouth almost made him feel bad.
"I’m not pissed, I’m just… tired," she said levelly. "I was capable of handling this job. And I wanted to do this for Cuddy. But you had to make it difficult. It’s just… typical."
Seeing her so resigned was making him uncomfortable. It sure as hell wasn‘t his responsibility to lift her up, but he wasn’t completely heartless. He felt an annoying surge of sympathy, in fact. "It wasn’t about being capable. It was about being right for it. You’re not programmed to say no to me; you shouldn’t have to be. That’s not what your job is. Your job is to be a doctor."
There was a flicker of suprise on her face - he had almost complimented her, after all - but it faded swiftly. "Simple as that, huh?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact."
"It might be that simple for you. The rest of us have to live in the real world. If that means making a few career adjustments…"
"Oh don’t be so ridiculous. You’re not making career adjustments, you’re stalling. You need to realise that."
She laughed humourlessly. She rubbed a hand over her face. "So pushing me with the patient and the risky procedures, that was all for my own good, was it?"
"More like incidental. The point is still the same. The only person who belongs in that office is Cuddy."
"And I feel sorry for her for having to deal with you."
It was an evasion tactic but he wondered if that was supposed to be a professional or personal dig. It occurred to him that he had no idea what her true opinion was on his relationship status these days. He didn't know her that well anymore. That inherent attraction was still present between them but he had a feeling that would always be present; it had just been stifled beneath other things like time and familiarity, and other people like Cuddy and Chase. If it extended beyond a surface interest anymore… well, he couldn’t tell. It would be pretty twisted, but Cameron’s interest in him had never been entirely healthy. Nor, admittedly, had his in her.
She’d once represented something pure for him. Misguided hope for a healthy relationship, perhaps. Over time that had transformed into something more convoluted before seemingly disappearing altogether, but there was, always, that memory. Cuddy was the one he’d had and failed, but Cameron would always be the one who got away. There was something lofty in the concept. She could remain untouched, a distant ideal, and he would never have to face the deeper complications.
No matter their relationship, he hadn't wasted three years on her so she could cool her heels in the ER. It was almost a personal insult. His doctors were better than that. She was better than that.
"We all have our crosses to bear," he said simply.
There was both sadness and determination on her face now, a familiar expression coarsened by exhaustion and time. She seemed determined to stay angry with him. For shattering her illusions. Whatever. He could live with that as long as it forced her to see the hard truth.
She broke eye contact and gathered up her belongings. It seemed he would never stop teaching her. Even when he was supposed to.
"I’m serious, you know," he said carefully. It was important she didn't stay mad at him. He wasn't sure why. "This was for your own good."
She tucked the folder under her arm. "I know," she said quietly, and before he could respond she was across the cafeteria.
He watched her go, pensively turning his mouth. Their relationship had shifted, yet again, and would probably continue to do so, at least until she found her footing. But she would get over it. She was more like him than Cuddy, as he’d trained her to be, and she was starting to grasp that.
Whatever her place, he needed her to be that.
Pairing: House, slight House/Cameron
Rating: PG
Summary: She was more like him than Cuddy, and she was starting to grasp that. It was a little too easy to get Cameron to break. House fic. Post Big Baby. 1,212 words.
-
It was a little too easy to get Cameron to break.
She was floundering. She hadn’t figured out her place since leaving his team. She skipped from ER to upper management, but she didn’t belong in either. The sooner it was she realised that, the better. It wasn’t his job to show her that anymore but it didn’t mean he had to make the process easy on her. Testing the boundaries of her new position was necessary - he couldn’t do his job if he didn’t know the qualms and tells of his opponent. And she’d turned out to be a sturdier adversary than expected.
Still, she was a doctor at heart. Not an administrator. A diagnostician. It just happened to work in his favour that he already knew that, and she didn’t.
She looked pale in her pink scrubs when he saw her the following day, eating an early lunch in the cafeteria. She was alone. No Chase and no Foreman, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered approaching her. There was no sense treading that pseudo support network.
As he drew nearer he had to admit she looked dispirited. She was skimming through a file whilst chewing on a sandwich, and she absentmindedly brushed away the crumbs.
She’d been so perky and assertive the other day. Determined to prove the naysayers wrong. It seemed almost criminal to crush that naiveté. She still had it in droves; it just manifested itself more obliquely these days. Behind droll sarcasm and a calm demeanour.
"So Cuddy didn’t let you keep the outfit, huh?" he started glibly, hovering over her table. "Shame. That’s what you get for raiding the grown-up’s closet."
"It didn’t go so well with blood and vomit," Cameron replied, barely looking up from her file.
He slid into the booth across from her, propping his cane against the edge. It was rare for her to express some dissatisfaction with the ER, but she had obviously retained a modicum of vulnerability.
"Did you want something?" she continued, turning a page. "To gloat, or do a victory dance, maybe?"
"Ouch. Way to bring up the cripple issue."
"I’m busy. The ER’s backed up and I don’t have the longest lunch break."
He’d considered the idea that Cuddy might have fired her before quickly dismissing it. Cuddy was too desperate, and despite the fact that she’d defied her recommendation with the brain procedure, Cameron hadn’t done a terrible job.
"I thought you’d hold out for at least another day or two," he said idly.
"Well Cuddy’s back. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?"
He studied her downturned head. It was odd, seeing her interact with Cuddy as a peer. Rubbing shoulders with the big guys. It overlapped with his memory of the quiet young doctor who cared too much and followed him around with moon eyes. Two conflicting personas; merging into a woman who eluded him more than before. He’d never had the opportunity to watch doctors under his tutelage move on and evolve - and admittedly, he’d never been as personally vested as he was with the last three. He might joke about it, but it was unsettling watching them surpass him. He had never been remotely interested in politics or climbing the professional ladder. But it did remind him that he stood by, dormant, as they moved on.
"In the end you’re all interchangeable."
"Right," she scoffed, not believing it. She knew there were things going on between him and Cuddy, even if he’d never told her. And she was right, he did prefer Cuddy in charge. Though that wasn’t the reason for it.
"Cuddy’s predictable. And you’re a sucky administrator."
"When managing you falls under the job description, apparently so."
He rolled his eyes. "Oh don’t feel bad. Foreman learnt that the hard way too. Hey, think Chase’ll be next to step up to the plate?"
She sighed, closing her file and crumpling up her plastic wrapper.
"I have work to get back to."
"You’re pissed at me," he observed, staying where he was. She paused halfway up in her seat. The tense line of her shoulders and repressed turn of her mouth almost made him feel bad.
"I’m not pissed, I’m just… tired," she said levelly. "I was capable of handling this job. And I wanted to do this for Cuddy. But you had to make it difficult. It’s just… typical."
Seeing her so resigned was making him uncomfortable. It sure as hell wasn‘t his responsibility to lift her up, but he wasn’t completely heartless. He felt an annoying surge of sympathy, in fact. "It wasn’t about being capable. It was about being right for it. You’re not programmed to say no to me; you shouldn’t have to be. That’s not what your job is. Your job is to be a doctor."
There was a flicker of suprise on her face - he had almost complimented her, after all - but it faded swiftly. "Simple as that, huh?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact."
"It might be that simple for you. The rest of us have to live in the real world. If that means making a few career adjustments…"
"Oh don’t be so ridiculous. You’re not making career adjustments, you’re stalling. You need to realise that."
She laughed humourlessly. She rubbed a hand over her face. "So pushing me with the patient and the risky procedures, that was all for my own good, was it?"
"More like incidental. The point is still the same. The only person who belongs in that office is Cuddy."
"And I feel sorry for her for having to deal with you."
It was an evasion tactic but he wondered if that was supposed to be a professional or personal dig. It occurred to him that he had no idea what her true opinion was on his relationship status these days. He didn't know her that well anymore. That inherent attraction was still present between them but he had a feeling that would always be present; it had just been stifled beneath other things like time and familiarity, and other people like Cuddy and Chase. If it extended beyond a surface interest anymore… well, he couldn’t tell. It would be pretty twisted, but Cameron’s interest in him had never been entirely healthy. Nor, admittedly, had his in her.
She’d once represented something pure for him. Misguided hope for a healthy relationship, perhaps. Over time that had transformed into something more convoluted before seemingly disappearing altogether, but there was, always, that memory. Cuddy was the one he’d had and failed, but Cameron would always be the one who got away. There was something lofty in the concept. She could remain untouched, a distant ideal, and he would never have to face the deeper complications.
No matter their relationship, he hadn't wasted three years on her so she could cool her heels in the ER. It was almost a personal insult. His doctors were better than that. She was better than that.
"We all have our crosses to bear," he said simply.
There was both sadness and determination on her face now, a familiar expression coarsened by exhaustion and time. She seemed determined to stay angry with him. For shattering her illusions. Whatever. He could live with that as long as it forced her to see the hard truth.
She broke eye contact and gathered up her belongings. It seemed he would never stop teaching her. Even when he was supposed to.
"I’m serious, you know," he said carefully. It was important she didn't stay mad at him. He wasn't sure why. "This was for your own good."
She tucked the folder under her arm. "I know," she said quietly, and before he could respond she was across the cafeteria.
He watched her go, pensively turning his mouth. Their relationship had shifted, yet again, and would probably continue to do so, at least until she found her footing. But she would get over it. She was more like him than Cuddy, as he’d trained her to be, and she was starting to grasp that.
Whatever her place, he needed her to be that.