Well, another holiday looms, and so of course Steve started prodding me to be brought out of retirement! These are always fun to write, but at the same time, I hope that I do the characters justice by not making things too fluffy or out of character. I guess I'll leave it for all of you to decide!
All Rodent's Eve
Chapter 1
October thirty-first, and Princeton was entering the last stages of autumn. The beginning of the month had held Indian Summer days and brilliant colored leaves, but now those days were coming to an end. A strong rainstorm over the weekend had dulled the leaves and sent many of them to the ground where they now swirled around waiting to be gathered up and discarded. Cameron made her way from her car to the hospital entrance, some of those same stray leaves crunching beneath her feet. She breathed in the earthy smell of the season and the distant smoke of a bonfire and she smiled.
The allegorical attributes given to autumn should have carried even more weight with her. The dying year, the withering life, the loneliness of existence. They had all been made concrete by the death of her husband at just that time of year, almost fifteen years earlier. She had mourned him every year since, and the bright flash of color followed so quickly by death, had always been a powerful reminder of what she had lost.
But this year she was walking through fallen leaves and smiling.
She had mourned privately, as usual, sequestering herself away in her apartment for a weekend, flipping through her wedding album, calling his parents, letting a few tears fall on the letter he'd written to her and enclosed with his will. Then, Sunday night, House had called and told her that he and Steve were lonely, and she had realized that none of them needed to be.
Her relationship with House had improved after the Fourth of July. Improved by going back to the way it had been prior to his shooting. It would never improve all the way to perfection. They still argued and kept quiet too often and were terrible about actually sharing their feelings. Yet they were undeniably happier in one another's company. They spent most weekends together and half of the weeknights as well, as long as they didn't have a critical patient. There was nothing thrilling or overly romantic about their times together. They would eat, watch television, very occasionally go out to the movies (where no one would see them), or out to dinner or a concert in some town outside Princeton (where no one would see them). Then they would sleep together, literally and figuratively, with hardly a word spoken between them, but with touches that said more than either of them would ever be willing to say.
The night of October thirtieth was one where they'd only had time for Chinese take-out and half an episode of "Lost". House always mocked the show mercilessly but he never made her change the channel. However, a page from the hospital had interrupted them and when they'd finally left their patient it had been close to two in the morning and they'd each gone back to their own apartments to get what little sleep remained.
Still, despite a certain amount of sleep deprivation, Cameron found herself in a good mood, and the smile remained on her face as she entered the hospital and made her way to the diagnostics department. She had been there for almost an hour, had consumed two cups of coffee, traded clinic hours with Chase, told Foreman that their patient seemed to be experiencing more neurological symptoms, and was in the middle of answering House's mail when she heard House's voice out in the hallway. She heard another familiar metallic rattling before she saw the source. In fact that sound was what made her glance up from the envelope she was neatly slicing open.
"What's Steve doing here?" she asked as she watched House limp into the office with Steve's travel cage in one hand and a plastic grocery bag in the other.
"He's here because thanks to your little-miss-nice-guy routine, he's probably dying."
The horrified look on Cameron's face failed to make House soften the blow with a follow-up statement.
"What? What are you talking about?" She asked quickly as she walked up to House and took the cage out of his hand. "He was fine last night."
Last night was when she had last been at House's place. Last night was when she'd shared dinner with him and watched television while Steve split his time between their shoulders.
"Yeah, well that was last night. This morning I discovered that he'd weaseled his way out of his cage and raided that bag of peanut butter cups you so thoughtfully brought over for the little hooligans who are taking over the streets tonight."
Cameron had set the cage down on the desk and crouched down so that she could look Steve in the eye. Now her look of fear, slid away and her face took on a more relaxed expression.
"So he ate some of them?"
"He ate three of them," House replied, grumpily.
Beneath the scowl and bad temper, House actually looked a little bit afraid and Cameron was instantly sympathetic. If it was silly to be so attached to a small rodent, then they were both in the same boat. While they never talked about, defined or solidified their relationship, Steve was something they could discuss with affection.
"I don't think that much chocolate will kill him," she told him.
"So you're a vet now? Chocolate kills dogs. It probably kills rats even faster."
"Rats eat everything. Do you really think the species would survive if it was sensitive to certain foods?"
"So says you," House replied and then childishly stuck his tongue out at her.
She rolled her eyes and knew that he wasn't really that worried.
"I'm going to guess that you didn't tell Cuddy that you were declaring today 'Bring Your Rat To Work Day', huh?"
"What she doesn't know, won't hurt me. Now scoot over so I can tuck little Steve in the corner."
Chase and Foreman returned to the office soon after Steve McQueen was settled on House's bookcase. They were talking animatedly but stopped when they caught sight of Steve running laps on his exercise wheel."You brought your rat to the hospital?" Foreman asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
"He's got a tummy ache and needed his mommy," House said, jerking his head in Cameron's direction.
Her eyes sprang open wider and a blush crept up her neck. They hadn't breathed a word of their relationship to anyone but Cuddy, and she was startled at House's blasé remark. She couldn't be sure if he assumed that Chase and Foreman would think it was a joke or if he suddenly didn't care what they knew or thought.
"Yeah, right," Chase replied, easily taking House's comment in stride. "Cameron wouldn't touch a rat with a ten foot pole."
At that, the woman in question sent an irritated look in Chase's direction and then rolled her eyes. She wasn't sure what House expected her to say, and so she said nothing.
"That's where you're wrong. She's a regular rat-wrangler," House continued, shooting a broad wink across the room at Cameron.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we get on with the case?" As usual, Foreman was the first to tire of House's antics.
"Hmm. I don't recall dying and making you boss," House said pointedly. "In fact I think you're the one who's supposed to run around saying things like 'Yes, Boss, whatever you say, Boss', aren't you?"
Foreman kept his mouth shut and crossed his arms in a familiar stance.
House rolled his eyes dramatically and limped towards the conference room, the other doctors in tow. "Oh, fine. Spoil all the fun."
They gathered around the whiteboard for another round of 'Guess That Ailment' and half an hour later they all had different ideas and different assignments. Well, all except House. He'd assigned himself to watch television while keeping and eye on Steve. As the group broke up, Foreman and Chase went out the main door, but Cameron lingered behind before cutting through House's office.
"Trouble, little lady?" House asked. His television was tuned to an old black and white cowboy movie, and Steve was perched on his knee eating sunflower seeds out of his hand.
She'd followed him in order to ask him what was up. He was acting almost too cheerful, and almost all of his comments about her had all been nice ones. Was he trying to get them caught? Seeing Steve sitting there calmly nibbling away, made her smile and momentarily lose track of her train of thought.
"Stroke?"
"What? No, he doesn't have any symptoms of stroke," Cameron said, confused.
"I was talking about you. You froze in place and I was afraid maybe something had burst in that little brain of yours."
She let out a slightly exasperated sigh. "No. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
"Don't you mean Steve? He's the one who might be dying."
"He's not dying."
"Yeah, so you've said."
"Anyway, if he is dying then why are you in such a good mood about it?"
"No sense making his last moments all scary and sad," House said, putting on an a face of exaggerated pathos before immediately replacing it with a sly grin.
"You're impossible."
"Yeah, but that's never bothered you before."
Cameron just shook her head and started towards the door. She had her hand on the door handle when House spoke again.
"It's Halloween," he said. "All the sugar puts me in a good mood."
He looked sincere, and Cameron's mouth tilted up into a quirky smile before she rolled her eyes again, good naturedly this time, and left the office. She'd been assigned to get a better patient history and to follow it up with a lumbar puncture to rule out encephalitis and she waited for the elevator to arrive and take her down to the cafeteria where she knew the patient's family was gathered. She sometimes found it a good idea to talk to family first. It was easier for her to tell if the patient was lying when she already knew a bit about them and about the family dynamics that might lead to a desire to cover up unseemly details.
Wilson was apparently wearing some new silent-sole shoes, because she didn't hear him walk up behind her and when he tapped her on the shoulder she nearly jumped through the stainless steel elevator doors.
"I didn't even get a chance to say 'Boo'," he said, but when Cameron glared at him he held up both hands in apology. "Sorry, didn't realize you were so jumpy."
"I'm usually not," she replied.
"Yeah, I'd have thought House would have trained that out of you by now," he joked.
"His idea of practical jokes isn't exactly subtle, no," she said dryly, remembering instances of spring-loaded peanut cans and silly-string attacks while she was showering.
While her relationship with House had grown deeper, she'd been pleased at the fact that her friendship with Wilson had also grown stronger. It was nice to feel like she had a strong ally at the hospital as well as someone she could talk to about House. As a friendship, it didn't rank anywhere close to the one she knew the two men shared, but it was still warm and comfortable and she was grateful for it.
"He must be in a good mood today," Wilson remarked as the elevator doors opened.
"What makes you say that?"
"He paged me, told me to get him a donut, and actually gave me the money for it."
Cameron laughed. House and his money were not easily parted.
"I was actually a little worried this morning," she said, pressing the button for the ground floor. "His good moods throw me off. He made a few vague remarks in front of the others that made me think he was just a step away from declaring that we're an item," she said, schooling her voice to a calm cheerfulness.
"He probably wouldn't use those words," Wilson teased. "He'd probably just start calling you his ball and chain."
The chart in her hands became very interesting and she studied it while saying, "Yes, and then it would only be one more step before he'd decide that our relationship was affecting our work and ending it all."
Wilson's expression changed from jovial to concerned as he touched Cameron's arm.
"That didn't sound as much like a joke as mine did," he said.
"Well you have to admit that it's hard to know what's going through his mind sometimes."
"Sometimes," he agreed. "Not this time. He's… content…" he said, not feeling quite comfortable with using 'happy' to describe his bitter and misanthropic friend. "He's not thinking about ending anything."
Cameron raised her eyes to his and a small smile tugged the corners of her mouth briefly.
"Thanks."
"No problem. Now what's this I hear about you poisoning Steve?"
