Quid pro quo
Author: Marie del a Meer
Disclaimer: Wouldn't need to write fanfiction if I owned House.
Rating: T
Summary: I decided to put some more scenes on the end of the date from Love Hurts (First season) between House and Cameron. When I watched it, as promising as it began and as depressing as it got, Cameron didn't get up and leave at the point most reasonable people would have, and I just couldn't leave that alone, so I decided there had to be more to it.
A/N: Love feedback. Flames are fine, I want to improve.
"You don't love," House looked up at her from his empty place setting, "You need."
His sad eyes glanced around the room again, anywhere but into Cameron's own gaze,
"And now that your husband is dead... you're looking for your next charity case..." House spoke bluntly. "That's why you're going out with me. I'm twice your age, I'm not great looking, I'm not charming, I'm not even nice. What I am, is what you need..." He rationalised, "I'm damaged."
House went back to casually perusing the dinner menu as if he had just asked Cameron if she had decided what to order.
Dead... His voice never faulted. Cameron was unable to move or take her hurt eyes from House's relaxed form. She felt the familiar prickling behind her eyes.
This is his way. He's pushing you away. He's protecting himself. Cameron kept trying to get control of her emotions. Michael was swirling around in her thoughts. House couldn't know what they had or didn't have. He didn't even know her then. He was probing for insecurities, and if she left now he would know he hit a nerve. You don't love... you need.
House felt a piercing pain in his thigh. He proceeded to pad his jacket pocket for his pill bottle, whilst keeping an eye on Cameron. In truth he was shocked she hadn't gotten up to leave. Was she a masochist? He had just insulted her beyond repair.
House swallowed a vicodin and continued to study Cameron. After about five minutes of deafening silence a waiter came over to take their order. The waiter was about 5"9 tanned and athletic looking but was walking with more weight on his left leg. House had noticed callouses on the waiter's right hand but not his left when he had poured his wine. He had slightly lighter skin a centimetre before his hair line and on his left wrist as a wide band. If House were a betting man, and he was, he would have guessed it was a tennis injury. Simple deduction. The headband or cap and sweat band worn during tennis explained the tan lines and a sore archillies tendon explained the gait. It had to be a recent and short term injury otherwise waiting tables was a very stupid career move. He looked more like a college student anyway, not someone making a career out of this. Probably 23. Three years younger than Cameron. Twenty five years younger than him. They should be dating, they wouldn't look so odd.
Cameron was ordering the ravioli. House was just in time to catch the look in the waiter's eye. The 'what is she doing with him look.' House momentarily considered pretending he was rich. Justification makes the world go around.
Cameron was looking at him for the first time in about seven minutes. Expectant. So was the tennis waiter. He was up. He ordered the poutanessca.
Cameron was glancing at him every so often but not speaking. For some reason the vicodin had done nothing for his leg pain, he took another. He decided that he could make this insufferable for both of them.
"Do you watch the OC?" House asked nonchalantly, as if what he had said a few minutes ago had rolled right off him.
Cameron remained silent but her stare bore into him. I have better things to do.
"You don't watch TV, how about music? Got a favourite band or singer?" House paused momentarily to see if Cameron was going to respond. He knew she wouldn't so he proceeded to guess. It was more fun this way anyway.
"Bet you like female solo artists, Sarah McLachlan, Natalie Merchant anyone depressing... Tori Amos?"
The slight glimmer in her eye let him know he had been right, at least one of those. That wasn't nearly as interesting as something else that was going on. From her face he could tell she was toying with something. Something she wanted to say, but wasn't sure about. If he kept riling her he would find out what it was. He was curious but felt threatened at the same time. That realisation struck him, since when didn't he want the answer? Why was she still here? She clearly wasn't enjoying herself. Maybe she just didn't want to make a scene. If she just got up quietly and headed for the door, none of the people at neighbouring tables would even notice. Well, the guy at the table beside theirs probably would, since he had been staring at Cameron more than his date, and she was starting to look pissed.
"Are you happy?" Cameron's voice was firm yet calm. Her sad eyes questioned him.
House shut his mouth and stared at her with his cool blue eyes. He didn't look cocky.
Cameron continued with resignation, "I'm not happy." She took her sad child-like eyes from his momentarily, she exhaled and glanced sideways. Her eyes were glassy.
She came back to him. "I think I could make you happy."
'And I think you could make me happy' would have been the next logical thing to say. But Cameron didn't say it.
Cameron's face remained hard. "Is that so wrong?" She pleaded. Her voice wasn't petulant but it conveyed some annoyance.
"You want to fix me," House countered.
"If nothing had to change for you to be happy, then you would have to be happy already..." Cameron's voice had changed, no longer emotional, now professional. She could have been running a differential diagnosis, House observed.
"Simple logic," Cameron shrugged. "And I don't think you're happy," her voice was low, insightful, self assured.
"So you do want to change me." House teased her.
Cameron rolled her eyes. She knew he hadn't missed her point. House was just being House, he just wanted to deflect her words some more with a smart ass comment.
She smiled, challengingly, "Would that be so bad?" Her eyebrow was raised slightly.
House was sure of only one thing. Cameron couldn't have looked sexier than she did right now. House felt out of control. He refused to let it show though. He spoke casually as he opened out his serviette, "There's a third option you know." He was hoping to perplex her.
Cameron nodded, she was ready for his deduction, "Or you want to be unhappy."
The silence continued.
Turn the question on its head, it's what you do best. House could almost here Wilson's voice in his head. He really had to spend less time with that guy.
"You think I could make you happy?" House asked casually.
Cameron stared intensely at him. Her incredible blue-green eyes held his. Her lips curled into a meek smile. "Yes."
He studied her reaction. Such honesty, such hope, such... naivety?
Cameron spoke first, "For a person to be as perceptive as you are, you have to understand people. But it's a double-edged sword, you see all the good and the bad in them."
House waited patiently, he was sure she was about to make her point.
Cameron continued slowly, calmly brushing an errant strand of hair away from her eye. "I see the good in you, and... I can live with the rest."
House stayed silent. That was more unnerving than it should have been, but it didn't matter because Cameron wasn't done yet.
She changed the subject again. "What qualities in a person do you hate the most?" She asked matter of fact.
House deadpanned, "Doe-eyed innocence." He checked Cameron's expected smug smile and faux-annoyed glare. He exhaled, proverbially throwing his hands in the air, "I don't know, idiocy, dishonesty, hypocrisy... take your pick."
"It's interesting." Cameron observed, pausing deliberately to perplex him. "You take such incredible risks when it's not your life, and you're right, and you're usually so sure of yourself, that it isn't really a risk at all."
House stated her implication, "You think I'm a hypocrite?"
Cameron's tone was serious, "Only when it comes to taking risks yourself." She was conscious of not letting House feel she was trying to attack him.
House was annoyed by Cameron's last comment, "You're basing your whole analysis on the fact that I don't want to jump into a bed with you?"
"I read your doctor's report..." Cameron waited for the recognition to become evident on House's face. It didn't.
"About your leg," Cameron prodded. "You would have rather died, than let them amputate."
"I'm shocked you did that," House overplayed his surprise. "What happened to Miss Integrity?" He mocked her.
"Hey, you checked my file," Cameron scoffed. "I was just returning the favour," she shot back at him. Cameron took another sip of her wine.
House decided that she probably did have him there. "I wanted them to do everything to save my leg," House was back to matter-o-fact.
Cameron set her glass down. "Why?" she questioned him. Her tone was the exact same as when she had asked him why he wanted her back standing at her front door only two days ago.
Her response seemed odd to him and caught him slightly off-guard, "Why did I want my leg? I don't know, so I would be able to walk. I hear it helps if you have two of them." His words ridiculed her.
"I mean, if you had had your leg amputated you would be able to walk about as well as you can now." Cameron clarified.
House was annoyed by this conversation, "Then what's your point?"
"But, you wouldn't be in pain," Cameron reasoned.
House was agitated by her implication, "You think I like being in pain."
"Well, I think it's worked out nicely for you," Cameron was oddly confident, she smiled threateningly. "You get an all access pass to the vicodin club..." Cameron picked up her wine glass again, swirling the yellowish liquid, "You don't have to focus on emotional pain if you're in constant physical pain... not to mention the built in excuse you have for being an ass." She sipped her drink.
House's eyes momentarily got larger. He glanced around the room, Where was their food? The table that ordered immediately before them had gotten their food five minutes ago.
House regained composure, "Say you nailed it. I'm a hypocritical, miserable, drug addicted son-of-a-bitch..." House threw at her sardonically, "Then what are you doing here. You gonna to fix me Dr. Freud?"
"You keep making out like this was all part of some master plan I had," Cameron came off defensive, "Did it ever occur to you that I didn't plan on having feelings for you, I just do." Cameron speech had gotten faster and more passionate, "You don't love someone because it's right, or because it makes sense... you just do."
House knew she hadn't just said that she loved him, but she had been talking about her feelings for him, then proceeded to talk about love. Very Freudian indeed.
"Is that what happened with your husband?" House knew he shouldn't be attacking from this angle again, but he couldn't help himself. "It seems to me that marrying someone when you know they're dying is a little calculated." He came off sounding more caddy than he should have.
"I loved him." Cameron's voice was soft and her expression was far away, "What else could I have done?" Her twinkling eyes refocussed on his.
The tennis playing waiter came back with their food. House was relieved. This conversation had gotten far too intense. For all his hate of liars, he was starting to reconsider the virtues of too much truth.
They began to eat in unceremonious silence. After another five or so minutes House spoke.
"What was his name?" House suddenly asked.
Cameron was completely lost, "What?"
"Your husband," House clarified before going on to mock her, "and I think he qualifies as a who."
Cameron was taken aback, "Michael... Michael Cameron." She proceeded to eat her pasta.
House's face dropped, but only slightly. He couldn't believe he had never once considered that Cameron was her married name. He knitted his brows, "What was your maiden name?"
"Duffy."
"Allison Duffy," House tried it out, it didn't sound right. I call her by a name she's only had for five years.
"Don't start calling me Duffy," Cameron warned him.
A few more minutes of silence surpassed.
House broke first, "How did you meet him?" He hated that he was so interested.
Cameron hesitated, she didn't want to tell him. He doubted it was embarrassing, which meant she was afraid he would throw it back in her face later. That was fair. She had been upset when she had told him that her husband had died, and he had definitely used that against her.
"You give me something first," Cameron replied cautiously.
"We could go at it right here, but they might ask us to leave, will you settle for a quick flash of nipple?" House joked in his usual sarcastic manner, lifting his shirt up lightly to punctuate his point.
"Ha ha," Cameron drawled. "You tell me something."
Quid pro quo Dr. Lector, he probably deserved that. House considered this briefly. Maybe he should just drop it. "What do you want to know?" If it was too personal, he could always not answer, but he wanted to know about Cameron's husband. Then it occurred to him that Cameron was going to ask about Stacy, she had been curious ever since he had mentioned living with someone at the Monster Trucks.
Cameron sat back, keeping her face neutral, "Tell me about the woman you lived with."
So predictable. We always want to know what came before us. What made us who we are. Cameron wanted to know what was so special about Stacy that made her worthy of his intimacy and trust. The answer would probably disappoint her.
"Her name was Stacy, she's a lawyer," House tried to stay nonchalant. House took another mouthful of his food. "I met her when she shot me."
He watched the confusion play out on Cameron's face.
"It was doctors versus lawyers... paintball," he clarified.
Cameron couldn't help but think back to the conversation she had had yesterday with House, when she had asked about dress code, he said he was taking her to play paintball. Stacy wasn't far from his mind.
"We lived together for almost five years." House had stopped making eye contact and had started to fidget.
"Why did you break up?" Cameron decided to push. He'd been pushing her buttons all night.
House's eyes darted around the room. "She betrayed me."
"She cheated on you?" Cameron wasn't sure if she had understood him, he was being intentionally vague.
"No," House became visibly agitated, "I think I've answered enough questions. How you met your husband... shoot."
"I was a med student. He was a patient..." Cameron shrugged, as if it was obvious, "I had to take his history. We got talking... he was from Montana..."
House cut her off before she could finish, "Same as you."
"Yeah," Cameron nodded before continuing, "He seemed genuine, kind and...
"Alone," House finished for her.
She nodded, "I guess so."
House summed it up for her, "You felt sorry for him."
Cameron considered this, "Maybe."
"Did you love him?" House deliberately slipped the question in to test her. If she over compensated with something like 'Of course I did,' he would know he'd hit a nerve.
Cameron looked up from her plate, her sad eyes glistened, she pulled her mouth into a sad smile, "yes."
"Did you regret marrying him... at the end, when there were no more gestures to be made, just the cold hard reality that he was dying and you couldn't do a damn thing about it." The whole process was a lot slower and even less romantic than anyone ever thought.
Cameron did a double-take, she had seen House be blunt, but this was... over the top even by his standards, cruel was the first word that came to mind. She refused to give him the satisfaction of upsetting her, this is a test. Sometimes she considered every moment she had spent with House since they met was all part of his greater game, maybe an audition.
"I don't regret it," Cameron managed to push out firmly. "There were..." Cameron's voice trailed off, she sighed, "It was very hard, but no I don't regret it."
House noted she had switched to present tense, which could be applied to this situation as if she could got back again knowing what she knew now, she would marry him all over again.
Cameron went back to her meal and House continued to watch her. Her reaction wasn't what he had expected or even hoped for. He wanted his probing to annoy her, not remind her of her loss. She had genuinely grieved, and probably still was in a way. Do they ever really leave? He still thought about Stacy... often.
House hadn't gotten what he wanted from this yet. He shook his head in annoyance, "I don't get it. How do you ask out a guy who just got a death sentence?"
Cameron stared pointedly at him, "It didn't happen like that." She was frustrated now, "Mike was diagnosed with thyroid cancer three months before I met him, he had chemo and was supposed to be in remission," Cameron grimaced. "He came to the hospital complaining of headaches and vertigo...I took his history, ran an MRI..." Cameron tried to recount what happened clinically, but her recollections were dragging the old pain to the surface, "the cancer had metastasised to his brain." Another sad smile.
Cameron felt her eyes welling up, and fought them back, "The doctor who was supervising me... when he broke the news to him, he was blunt and clinical, and after a moment he was gone." Cameron's eyes were far away as the memories flooded back to her, "Mike just sat there staring for the longest time... I stood there not knowing what the hell to do, so I held him while he cried... he was twenty eight years old. This genuine, funny, great guy..." She shook her head, never finishing that sentence.
House continued to watch the emotion play out on her face.
"He thanked me," Cameron recalled still disbelieving the way things had unfolded, "for being kind... I told him that if he wanted to talk about anything, that we could get a coffee. I wasn't really sure he would take me up on it," Cameron's tone was more controlled now. "But he did call, about a week later. He couldn't see the point to anything anymore, if you only have a year, it's hard to want to start anything or go to work doing a job you don't particularly like, to make plans..." Cameron explained.
"Why did you do it to yourself?" House wasn't being an ass, he was dumbfounded. I was lucky to know him as long as I did, Cameron's own words replayed in his mind. He wasn't sure he could ever really understand her sacrifice. What she had gotten out of the whole thing.
"Because I understood." Cameron knew she was going to regret this, but she resented House's belief that she hadn't loved Mike, merely wanted to be needed. "There was a time when I felt the same way. You don't want to start anything, because you know you won't finish it."
House sat back in silent contemplation. After a few seconds his brow furrowed, "You're talking about suicide."
Cameron expression turned pensive, her large sad eyes raised to meet his, "Yeah." She nodded gently, exhaling loudly before lowering her head again.
House sat upright in his chair. This conversation had gotten a lot more interesting. While House had Cameron pegged as depressive, he hadn't really considered her suicidal. He had read her medical file, there was no mention of a suicide attempt, and no history of taking antidepressants.
House had to press, "How old were you?"
Cameron shifted in her chair. "Seventeen," she replied uncomfortably.
House couldn't keep his curiosity in check, "Why?"
"House," Cameron's voice was stern, "I don't want to go there okay." Cameron knew she shouldn't have said anything. House would be like a dog with a bone now that she had given him an opening.
It had been ten months ago now, since that day in his office when Cameron wanted to know why he had hired her, he had questioned her about how she was damaged, but she hadn't given him a definitive answer. Abused by a family member? Sexual assault? The sick babies upset her, and that fat 10 year old... none of that proved anything, except that Cameron is Saint Jude.
House knew he wasn't going to get anymore out of her right now, but he would definitely follow that up later. His mind couldn't settle. Had one significant event happened that had made Cameron depressed or was it a constant nagging thought building over time? Had she actually attempted suicide or just thought about it?
Cameron had kept talking, "He was an incredible person... I would have lost more if I had been too afraid to love him." Cameron's opal stare bore into House, causing him to glance away.
Cameron decided she had answered enough of his probing questions. House wasn't paying that much attention anymore. Cameron snapped him from his reverie, "Was your leg the reason you and Stacy didn't work out?" Her curious voice had returned.
Cameron seemed to know more about him and Stacy than she should "Why would you say that?" House asked cautiously. Then he remembered, Cameron admitted she read his medical file, she knew what Stacy did.
House stared back at her, the evening was becoming a stalemate and they both knew it. They were being more intimate than House would be if they had gotten 'all the way down'. Cameron craved intimacy, he had been feeding her all night. He was confident she already suspected why he and Stacy broke up, she just wanted to know for sure. What did it matter now?
"It was part of it, yes," House conceded.
"She overrode your wishes when you were in a coma," Cameron was clarifying more than asking.
"It wasn't her call," House replied firmly.
"She saved your life," Cameron corrected. Cameron could tell this was still a sore subject with him. She probably should have backed off, but she didn't.
"Right, and you respect patient's wishes," Cameron drawled before continuing sarcastically, "I forget was it you who violated that DNR three months ago, or some other doctor?"
She couldn't get her head around his choice, it was the polar opposite to all the choices he made as a doctor. Cameron called House on his inconsistency, "You make patients agree with you all the time, when it's their life at stake."
"Yeah, I'm a hypocrite, I believe we already covered that," House spat contemptuously.
Cameron didn't understand, "Why were you going to die?" She couldn't keep the disbelief out of her voice, "House... it's just a leg."
House sighed, "That's what Stacy said." They would never understand.
Cameron couldn't refrain from saying, "I agree with her."
House looked at Cameron, she had never even met Stacy, and she was already siding with her. And here she was, auditioning to be her replacement. Cameron would never be Stacy, and he didn't want her to be.
"Even if it had made you hate me," Cameron leaned in forcing House to look her in the eye, she couldn't have been more serious, "I couldn't have let you die."
"Then we should call it quits here, because if you're gonna be Stacy, it's not gonna work out." House made fun of Cameron because he couldn't take anymore of this life, love and death talk. He felt like he couldn't breathe, loosening his tie. Were they sitting next to a heater?
The silence returned. They each stole brief glances at the other, it was pathetically juvenile, but no actual words were exchanged for the rest of the meal.
The bill arrived. House picked it up and took out his credit card. "Don't worry, it's on Cuddy."
Cameron was bemused by this. This was no work dinner, and they both knew it.
The drive home was quiet. House fiddled with the radio station every time he had to stop at lights.
He finally flicked to a station playing Marvin's Gaye's Sexual Healing. He left it on. He couldn't help but smile at the conversation he'd had the previous day with Foreman, I've got a case of malt liquor stashed in the trunk, Mr. Marvin Gaye on the CD, we are gonna get all the way down, the thought made him smile.
The sensuality of the song, radiated through the car, and began to make them both uncomfortable. It went on for the next couple of minutes, while House never took his eyes from the road, but continued to grip the steering wheel tighter than was really necessary. Cameron stared out the passenger side window, too afraid to look at House.
The song finished and the trance was broken. House turned off the radio.
Cameron figured the night had gone to hell anyway, so she might as well know the truth, this way she wouldn't lie awake wondering, "House," she waited until she knew he was listening, "Did you want this to... go well?" She searched for the right words and fell short. She exhaled quickly, "I mean... did you give us a chance... And I don't want a joke or sarcasm, just the truth... okay."
House momentarily glanced at her from the driver's seat. He took his time in answering. He shook his head, "I honestly don't know." It was a sincere and inherently sad reply.
Cameron had to know, "Why did you get me the corsage?"
He shrugged again, "I don't know." He couldn't look at her.
Cameron let it drop.
They approached Cameron's apartment. Words aside, House had been a perfect gentleman, opening doors, helping Cameron with her chair, so it was no surprise when he walked her to her door.
"Well, it was an... interesting evening." Cameron decided on, she wasn't sure if it was good or bad.
At least it wasn't boring, House assessed. A significant part of him had been terrified that it would be. The date had been more personal than he really wanted to get, intense in parts, but not overall bad. House had barely finished his thought when he felt Cameron's hands on his jacket, pulling him towards her. Her lips caught his, and he felt her lips part and her tongue probed his mouth. He was caught off guard and quickly used his cane to balance himself. Her skin was as soft as it looked. She tasted faintly of the wine. He let her kiss him and after a couple of seconds he began to join in. Almost as quickly as it had begun, Cameron broke the kiss. She smiled and her sparkling eyes conveyed a kind of mystery, sexiness.
"See you tomorrow," she called over her shoulder as she unlocked her door and went in.
House was still standing there stunned when she had already gone inside and locked her door. The date was over, Cameron had kissed him and he wasn't invited in. House bought his hand up to touch his lips. They were still tingling. Definitely not boring.