Disclaimer: I hereby mention that this show does not belong to me nor do any of the characters mentioned and if they did I don't think I would be writing this.
Rating: T
Summary: A gift, a song, a confession and finally something real…
A/N: This is my first House, M.D. fic ever. Let me repeat, this is my first attempt at writing anything House related ever. This show is brilliantly written that I cannot begin to capture them and not take them even a little OC. I tried to stay true. This is a one shot. I make a few assumptions: I assume Cameron is far younger than her brother. Nothing tells us otherwise. Next, "13" doesn't have a name so I gave her one, well, as far as I know she doesn't. I also believe that Wilson likes to be married and "13" would be good for him because she's kinda like House. Lastly, I have the assumption that House has nothing better to do on Christmas than listen to music and mope a little.
Oh, the song is written by me and there is no band as far as I know called The Good Jaynes. If there is- well then, disclaimer that too.
Review if you so desire. Ella Twain
PPTH
Everyone had since long gone home in the dark and desperate office of Diagnostics at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. There was a soft light of a computer screen that barely broke the darkness in the adjacent office of one Doctor Gregory House. Though glass, thick and fairly sound proof glass, a passerby could hear the faint sounds of music flowing through small stereo speakers attached to the computer. Decent speakers that Gregory House had used hospital funding to buy on the whim they ever needed to listen to a person's heart arrhythmias again. Money well spent as the music droned over the doctor who was leaning back in his chair, tossing a small ball in the air.
To the average patient or family there of; this might seem a bit unusual for a doctor of such resound ability and notoriety. Nevertheless, for nurses, fellow doctors, and his staff this was House at his norm- his comfort.
He had every right to be comfortable. Another puzzle solved with his latest team and better yet he had avoided clinic duty and made at three cutting remarks about Lisa Cuddy and her "funbags." He had no mood to be melancholy or frustrated. Wilson bought him lunch, "13" had made her first pot of decent coffee, and Wilson and "13", alright she had a name, Livie had gotten him the current CD as a Christmas present.
A Grinch-like smirk moved across House's face when he thought of his best friend and favorite new duckling and their "quickie" marriage. Wilson had made Brittney Spears look reasonable. But House couldn't fault that the two seemed oddly and bemusing and content with each other. Three months since they met, two of them possibly dating, and one week after their first meeting they were Mr. and Mrs. But it always suite Jimmy to be married and it seemed to suit Livie.
Greg placed the ball down and picked up the cover to the CD. He fingered the CD and glanced over the front and back cover. It wasn't a band he had heard of or cared for- till now. "13" had seen them in concert and thought he might enjoy their jazz/rock/acoustic sound. The Good Jaynes-the band- were an independent husband and wife duo that were fairly good. He was currently listening to track 4- When We Let Rome Burn. It featured an excellent trumpet solo by the dude on the album, who could apparently play more than bass and drums. The great musical coinsure was impressed. Perhaps, too impressed that he failed to realize a presence had joined him.
"I like Track 12."
"What are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be hanging milestone with the "kangaroo?"
"I'm surprised." She laughed lightly.
"Why?"
"You usually know everything that goes on here."
"So?"
"Chase or "Aussie Boy" as you so lovingly call him has moved on."
"To what?"
"Nurse Debbie in Peds. Seems she was so broken hearted when Wilson went and got married again…well, you watch enough soaps I'm sure you can figure it out."
He grimaced a little. His voice was quiet and tight. "I'm sorry."
"Why? You bummed you lost your chance with him too?"
"You have spent far too much time with me…" He replied sarcastically.
"Maybe I have." She agreed lightly.
"So, you have heard of the band?"
"The Good Jaynes. That would be Amanda Fritz Jayne and her husband, Colben Jayne. They're from St. Louis."
"Big fan?"
"Bias fan. I'm her aunt."
"Really?" His curiosity peeked.
She smiled and took a seat in an empty chair across from his desk- propping her feet on it as well. "Amanda is my oldest brother's daughter. She's old enough she could be my sister, though. My brother Alex and his wife Janice, live near our folks in St. Louis. Amanda grew-up right next door to Colben. Both musical geniuses..." She sighed gently. "They're wonderful together. Hmh…listening to them, makes me miss my family right now."
"Speaking of the holiday, why aren't you there? You know caroling, building snow men, serving at a soup kitchen…"
Her voice was dry but not harsh. "I love my family. I just don't love them enough to spend the next three days answering questions about my career and love life or lack there of."
"What's wrong with your career?"
"Three years as a fellow in one of the top Diagnostic departments in the United States and I am the E.R. attendee? My family may not be brilliant but they can even figure out I am settling."
"Why did you settle?"
She shrugged, grabbed his ball, and resumed his previous activity. "There is a time for departure, even when there is no certain place to go."
"Tennessee Williams." He answered, knowing the adage.
"My fellowship was over. Foreman quit. Chase got fired. What would you have done with me next? How long before I was gone too? Better I choose the leaving terms than someone else- you taught me that much."
Something within House cringed. Had he taught her that? Was that a lesson he had needed to teach her or just forced on her like so many other things?
"The band's pretty good."
"Yes, they are…" She grinned.
"Do you like get thanked in the liner notes?"
She thought for a moment. "Let's see this is Norris Park- yep, I'm thanked in the liner notes and so are you."
"What?!?" House sat-up straight, throwing his legs to the floor-never minding the shooting pain.
She laughed at the exclamation. "Norris Park was written about two years ago. It's their sophomore album- great but Even Numbered Days is much better. Two years ago, Volger was here, I quit and I spent a day or two with Amanda. My ramblings about you and the job inspired track number…15, I think. Yeah, 15-Real."
House's hands flew to the keyboard and moved to track 15. As the song began he flipped to the inside cover and the back page.
Thanks to my Aunt Allie and her dysfunctional relationship with her sadistic boss, Dr. Gregory House. Fodder for several more albums. Love to you both.
"What the hell did you tell her?"
"Everything. What did I have to hide? It all fell apart. Nothing came of it, right?"
Big truck rallies and lousy dates,
make for something other than love.
She's not good enough, he's lousy,
What the hell are they waiting for?
She comes and goes and he don't care,
but he walks harder than before.
She's just goin' keep runn'n,
he's not the type to chase anymore.
"Yeah, nothing. Clever pun on "chase" there…" His eyebrow arched.
"Amanda was always one for the play of words…kinda like someone else I know." She countered sitting up in the chair, too.
Fake kisses and up and down glances,
who do they think they're kidd'n?
They're the talk we never say out loud,
wishin' they were lov'n and liv'n.
I see a beautiful girl,
damaged by life and what may come.
I see a bitter guy,
damaged by pain and what will never come.
Give me the beauty,
give me the bitter.
And we'll make something real-
something that's just true-
Logic tells me one plus her-
makes two.
House was quiet. The song was acoustic with nothing but guitar and piano. Simple instruments about two complicated people. Had they meant it to be like that? He was the piano slow and methodical and unchanging for no player. She was the guitar- light, sweet, and harmonizing with the broken chords. The song was almost irritating like her.
He's loved and been let down,
she's loved and let them die.
Bet ya that neither will realize-
there is more than meets the eye.
Tired of their misdirections-
hey, doesn't everybody lie?
Not sure. But I just think-
not everyone can be right. No they can't be right.
I see a beautiful girl,
damaged by life and what may come.
I see a bitter guy,
damaged by pain and what will never come.
Give me the beauty,
give me the bitter.
And we'll make something real-
something that's just true-
Logic tells me one plus him-
makes two.
"You talk too much."
"You don't talk at all."
"They put the whole ordeal into a song, Cameron."
"What does it matter to you House? You said we'll never be anything. You said I only want to change you and that I'm broken and I need to fix people. You said I am nothing more than a pretty damaged girl trying to save what she never could, right?"
House didn't answer. It wasn't that her tone was bitter or biting or sarcastic. No, her tone was open and honest and spoke of exactly what he had told her time and time again. Then why did some stupid song bother him?
Heal me. Save me. Forget it- Save yourselves.
You need more solving than any mystery-
you need resolving before you're history-
and we just want you…we just need you…
to understand ourserlves….
I see a beautiful girl,
damaged by life and what may come.
I see a bitter guy,
damaged by pain and what will never come.
Give me the beauty,
give me the bitter.
And we'll make something real-
something that's just true-
Logic tells me one plus her-one plus him.
makes two.
Something real.
The song ended as it had begun. And the CD went off. The office was quiet.
"Some song writer…"
"I know."
"Some song…"
"I know."
"Why did you leave Allison?"
"When?" Her voice catching just enough as he used her first name- rarely ever spoken by him.
"The last time."
"I was afraid."
"Of me?"
"Yes and no. House you may have changed. You may have fallen in and out of love again, back and forth with Stacey. You may have even stayed the same mean-spirited-always-right-still-good-bastard I know but I haven't changed at all. No…I have changed. I still have feelings for you and you will never know how much I want to be with you but I've given up on you needing to be fixed. I realized something when I left---I may be damaged but you are just damaged as me. Only difference, I didn't let the damage take me out or make me an S.O.B…. you did."
House sat in his chair, still silent. Cameron continued.
"I didn't know how I could work with you alone and be in this…feel this way all by myself. You could torment me more. You could make fun of my feelings. You could have done so much and I was going to be damned if I was going to take it. I didn't want to face that if that was a possibility…"
House didn't say a thing. He grabbed his cane, stood up slowly, reeling a bit from the pain of his leg. He popped two Vicodin as he made his way around his desk. He came to where Cameron was sitting. She stood in the darkness and quietness of the moment and met him eye to eye. Reckoning time, she assumed. A year of her faking it through the ER and confused about her place in PPTH and in the life of Gregory House had culminated in this moment. She looked at his face, desperate to read what would come next. What biting and devious comment would he make at her confession?
"You think too much." Was all he said as he used his free arm and pulled her waist close to cling to his body. He smashed his lips into hers, opening her mouth with his tongue and finding her responding. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her finger through the back of his hair. She inhaled his scent of Rueben, mint gum, and cheap cologne. Finally, both breathless, she pulled away slowly- carefully- still not fully sure he wasn't deceiving her.
He smiled. "Merry Christmas Allison. I expect you here tomorrow morning."
She grinned, "You just want me to make coffee."
He shook his head and whispered into her ear. "No, that you will do at my place tomorrow morning before we leave."
The words shot through her as she grabbed her coat on the desk. He moved towards his computer and popped out the CD. He gave a chuckle at the disk and placed it in its case and then in his pocket of his own jacket. He picked up the helmet and tossed it to her- which she caught flawlessly.
"C'mon let's go and tomorrow you can call your niece. I love being in the liner notes."
"You're thinking small- I was thinking the whole CD named after us." She laughed as he took her hand and they made their way to his bike.
This time all of it was for real.