Summary: She's beautiful and intelligent. He's a genius with a limp. And neither one of them has figured out how well they complement one another.
Author's Note: Have you ever been inspired by someone else's fic? Happens to me quite frequently. One little turn of phrase can spark a whole world of thoughts. Today I read a very angsty multi-chapter fic, that has absolutely no resemblance to this. And yet, somehow it inspired this oneshot.
Beta'd by sharp2799. Thanks, Sharp, for the spur of the moment consult. :D
She stumbles onto him (them) quite by accident, having no idea he has relocated to New Jersey. And how could she? She cut all ties with him directly following her husband's funeral, consumed with guilt and a need to move on with her life.
Now here he is in the cafeteria, with his wife, judging by the sizable rock on her ring finger and the matching wedding bands.
"Allison," he exclaims, jumping to his feet and folding her into a sturdy hug before she even has time to close her gaping mouth. She pats him on the back awkwardly and steps out of his embrace.
"Joe." A pause, a deep breath and then she blurts, "What are you doing here?" and cringes when he chuckles in response.
He introduces her to his wife, Darlene, and drones on about his firm relocating and something about a nurses position and only half of it registers in her scattered brainwaves.
Darlene is... average. Her face is round, her nose too big and her mouth too small. She is short and a little pudgy and her hair is styled in a way that doesn't flatter her at all. She's not ugly, but she's no one's idea of beautiful either. But to Joe, she seems to be Venus. He is looking at her with uninhibited adoration and a devotion so pure and intimate, Cameron feels like an interloper; a peeping tom as she watches them.
And Allison Cameron is jealous.
She doesn't want to be Darlene, nor does she want Joe to look at her that way.
No, Cameron wants to be average, to have a man look at her like that because of what's inside. She's tired of being lobby art, the statue of the goddess in the museum with the velvet ropes around her keeping people at bay. She wants one person who won't be intimidated by her beauty. One guy brave enough to cross the ropes and touch her and bring her to life. One guy (House) who won't treat her like she's untouchable, a damaged beauty too needy to be taken seriously.
MD MD MD MD MD MD
House halts in his tracks at the sight across the room, oblivious to the disgruntled woman behind him who has just dropped her sandwich because of his abrupt stop. The sight of Cameron hugging some guy in the middle of the cafeteria is intriguing, an anomaly. A curiosity.
He sizes the man up; tall, medium build, neatly trimmed brown hair, inexpensive clothes. Nothing special to note about him. Just your average Joe.
And House is jealous.
For once he'd like to be the guy with two good legs, unencumbered by an intelligence that renders him easily bored. He'd like to be the guy that comes home from his average job, to his wife and his average kids and just know what it's like to belong somewhere, with someone. He doesn't want to be the freak at the circus anymore, scaring off anyone that gets too close because obviously there must be something wrong with someone who'd want to be with a freak.
He wants to be someone who can touch Cameron so easily. Someone she can look at without concern, pity, exasperation, or moral outrage.
He wants to be an average Joe.