Motionless, Part 1 of 2
The sun had gone down over Princeton, New Jersey several hours before and most of the city was quietly preparing for bed. But, as most everyone knows, hospitals never really sleep and there were still parts of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital that were alive with activity. However, the floor that housed the Department of Diagnostic Medicine was not one of those parts. And while at first glance the department in question appeared to be just as dark and deserted as the rest of the floor, anyone looking more closely would have seen that each room of the two room suite had an occupant sitting alone in the semi-darkness. In the smaller of the two rooms, a private office, a scruffy, grey-haired man sat in an ugly yellow chair, his feet up on a matching footstool. He was staring blankly at the wall, a glass of amber coloured liquid in his hand. And in the adjoining conference room, a slight, brown-haired woman sat alone at a table far too large for one, typing in fits and bursts on her laptop with only the screen for light. A smile played at her lips and every so often she glanced covertly in the direction of the man in the office.
Cameron was happy. Elated, even. She hated herself for it, or maybe she only wished she did, but she was glad that the others had gone. Not that she had anything against Foreman or Chase. Okay, nothing against Foreman at any rate. Chase had been annoying the hell out of her lately with his professions of affection and his goddamned Tuesdays. That whole thing was a huge mistake; she could admit that now. At best, a lame attempt at moving on. At worst, a desperate woman screaming at a disinterested man – notice me! Maybe some combination of the two. Not that the notice me part had worked; not really anyway, though she'd swear she'd heard a hint of something in his voice a few weeks back, when he'd first found out that she was sleeping with Chase. He'd accused her of working her way through all of the men in the department...
"Do you love him?" he'd demanded.
No, there's only you, she'd thought sadly.
Chase may not have deserved to have been fired today, but it wasn't really any concern of hers and it had neatly solved her problems with the blond, Australian doctor. As for Foreman, well, he was happy to be gone, so she figured that it was okay to be happy on his behalf. He had never really had gotten how lucky he was to be here, to be learning from the best there was. She'd never understood that about him, and now she doesn't understand how he could willingly leave. She mentally shrugged; Foreman's loss was her gain. Now she had House all to herself, though she knew it was only temporary. Eventually there would be others; Dr. Cuddy would make sure of that. But for now, it was just them and finally her chance had come – her chance to somehow make him see her. She had a plan. She would make herself indispensible, even more than she already had. She'd take over even more of the department's administrative functions. She knew he had been putting off completing his budget; she could do that for him. She'd spend all her evenings and days off studying rare diseases so she could impress him in differentials. She'd make him coffee and do his clinic hours and bring him lunch when she knew Wilson was unavailable. He would gradually come to depend on her, to need her by his side. By the time he got around to hiring anyone else, she'd be firmly ensconced as his right hand. Then, once she'd accomplished that, she'd work on taking their relationship outside of work. Maybe she could somehow come into possession of tickets to some event he'd enjoy – monster trucks, or a concert, or some kind of sports thing. Or maybe one night she'd just show up at his place with a bottle, get him drunk, and jump him. After all, he'd kissed her back once before.
She tapped her fingers on the table in front of her and chanced another glance into his office. He was still there, sitting in his chair, sipping at his scotch and staring at nothing. He wasn't happy; she could tell. But then, when was he ever? She wondered if he regretted firing Chase. She knew he didn't want Foreman to go, but he wasn't given much of a choice there. I'll be enough, she promised him silently. You'll see.
She looked back down at her laptop and clicked the button that would send into cyberspace the email she had written her brother. She had finished all her work some time ago and had been hanging around hoping to have some kind of interaction with House before she went home. Unfortunately for her, it had become increasingly obvious that he wasn't going to seek her out. At this point she doubted he even realized she was still there. She was just going to have to go to him. Trying her hardest to ignore the butterflies on speed that had taken up residence in her abdomen, she closed the cover of her laptop, took a deep breath and walked over to the door of his office.
After tapping lightly on the door, she pushed it open and cautiously entered his office. He didn't so much as look up to acknowledge her presence and so she stood there in the doorway nervously chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to decide what to say. Just as she'd decided that this wasn't a good time to put her plan into action and that a simple 'Good night, House' would suffice, he spoke.
"You coming to tell me you're leaving too?"
Taken aback, she blurted without thinking, "No, of course not. I'll never leave you." The instant the words left her mouth, she knew she'd said the wrong thing. Let it go, let it go, she chanted to herself.
Not a chance.
He was looking at her now, contempt plain on his face. "You're pathetic."
"What? Why? Because I like my job?" she asked, trying to downplay her kneejerk comment.
"No, if it were simply a matter of liking your job, you would have said 'No plans to' or 'For now, but I'll be back in the morning.' But you said 'I'll never leave you.' Sounds a wee bit obsessive to me. That's why you're pathetic. It's not the job you're staying for. It's me. Everything you do is about me."
"God, House, it was a just figure of speech." She turned to leave the room, but his voice stopped her.
"You'll understand if I don't believe you. You are, after all, the same woman who blackmailed me into dating her only two short years ago."
She turned back around to face him. "Right. And that worked out oh-so-well for me."
"On the contrary, it didn't work out well at all," he contradicted, deliberately missing her sarcasm. "And yet, here you still are. Like I said - pathetic. Give it up, Cameron. You don't belong here anymore. I've taught you all that I can. It's time for you to leave the nest, put all the knowledge I've crammed into that pretty little head to good use. Go find a new job and go find someone else to fix. Or to fix you. Whatever it is you're looking for these days."
"You don't mean that," she said, starting to panic and trying to hide it. "You're just upset over Foreman and Chase leaving. I'll do us both a favour and leave now before you say something you'll regret."
"For fuck's sake, Cameron," he growled. "Haven't I managed to kill that naiveté yet? I'm not upset about Foreman and Chase leaving. I fired Chase, remember? And Foreman is just doing what's best for himself. That's what he should be doing. It's also what you should be doing. And I'm not going to regret anything I say to you. That would imply that I give a shit about how my words affect you. Which I don't." He took a swig his drink and looked away, dismissing her.
Something inside her broke at his words. She'd show him pathetic - she had nothing left to lose. She approached his chair, standing so close to him that he had to tilt his head back to look up at her. The words flowed from her mouth of their own volition. "What's wrong with me? Why don't you want me? Don't you get it? Don't you feel it? We could be so good together if you'd just give me a chance to show you." She moved to sit beside him on the edge of the chair. "Let me show you," she said as reached out touch the side of his face. "Let me show you," she repeated softly, as she leaned in closer.
His hand shot out to capture her wrist. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "Is this supposed to be a turn-on? You think begging is going to make me fall in love with you?"
"No. But I can make you want me. Gotta start somewhere," she whispered as she leaned still closer and pressed her lips to his. At the same time she pulled her wrist free from his grasp and captured his own hand, bringing it to her chest to cup her breast through her thin top. He sat, still as a stone, not participating, but not pulling away either. And not moving his hand from where she had placed it, she noted as she continued to kiss him, darting her tongue out to taste his lips.
After several long seconds, a low rumble sounded from somewhere deep in his throat and suddenly he was kissing her back with a passion she had only seen a hint of the first time she had kissed him. His hand came to life on her breast, squeezing and moulding it and her nipple hardened under his touch. She parted her lips and his tongue immediately invaded her mouth, running over her teeth and teasing the sensitive roof of her mouth. She moaned into his mouth as one of her hands found its way into his hair and the other ran up and down his t-shirt clad chest. He reached down and grabbed the hem of her top, pulling up in a demand for her to remove it. She pulled away and complied, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it aside, enjoying the look on his face when her lacy red bra came into view.
He tried to pull her back to her previous position, but she was having none of it. She had other ideas. Trailing her hand carefully up his inner thigh, she reached his crotch and paused long enough to feel the effect she had already had on him. Staring into his eyes, she rubbed harder and licked her lips. His eyes widened as he got her meaning, before he closed them and laid back in his chair, allowing her to take over. She eased down his zipper and freed his hardness from its confines before leaning down and taking him into her mouth. She held back nothing, licking and sucking and nibbling with one hand wrapped around the base of his cock and the other fondling his balls. He was moaning and his hand was tangled up in her hair. His grip tightened to the point of hurting her as he came with a curse, into her mouth.
She sat back up, and smiled at him, but his eyes were still closed and he didn't see her. She waited a moment for his breathing to return to normal before leaning down to kiss him again. The instant her lips touched his, his eyes flew open and his hand caught her mid-chest, carefully but firmly pushing her away. "Put your top back on, Cameron."
"What? But..."
"Put your top back on. This changes nothing." He stood up and fixed his pants before reaching down and picking up her shirt off the floor. He tossed it at her motionless form still sitting on the chair. He looked down at the floor, scrubbing his face with his hand. He inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly before asking her gently, "Why are you still here? Is this all you want to be? The bed mate of a middle-aged, physically and emotionally crippled, drug addicted son of a bitch? Because that's all I can offer you. You stay here with me and there will be no romance, no marriage, no children. Is that what you want your life to be?" He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "Tell me, am I what your husband would have wanted for you? I can't love you, Cameron. I don't even want to. That will never change. "
She looked at the floor in front of her for a long time before she answered, tears forming in her eyes "You bastard," she said finally, sounding more sad than angry, more broken than bent. Without another word, without another glance in his direction, she pulled on her top, stood and walked out the door.
If she had looked at him in that last moment before she left, the lie he'd just told might have been visible in his stormy blue eyes. If she had lingered outside his door for a just few seconds, she might have heard him mumble, "Goodbye Cameron."
But she didn't.