Title: A Different Social Contract
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Looking back to four years previous. Tweaking The Social Contract. A happy, friendly fic. Nothing angsty. House/Cameron, Very slight Cameron/Chase and even slighter House/Cuddy plus 14 -Feel the love! 3
Spoilers: Recent Season 5 episode events mentioned up to The Social Contract
Disclaimer: I do no own any of the characters mentioned in this story, they are owned by David Shore and those FOX people.
A/N: I can't even begin to apologise for the startling lack of updates to my other fic, which I have no excuse! Uni has completely destroyed my muse and energy to write for lengthy periods, although I am nearing the end of a chapter for Mashed Mangoes, and many snippets for future ones. Unfortunately I can't see it being updated soon enough, and as such I'm posting this. I entered it for a competition, and although it didn't win I'm pleased with it. :)
"I'm not dressing another paper-cut, swabbing another orifice or prescribing any more decongestants until you start wearing low-cut tops again. This baby has way to much control over your wardrobe." Cuddy, who had been standing directly in the centre of the clinic, fumbled with the papers in her hand and although she managed to regain control of the folders, the papers gently poked within fell dramatically on the floor. Nurses, who had been avoiding the limping shadow of House, suddenly fell to their knees in attempt to clear the scene.
House was amused by the comical arrangement of staff, wondering whether he should increase his visitations to this area of the hospital after all.
"House" She groaned weakly before receiving a handful of shuffled letters. "Really. Not. In. The. Mood." He shuffled closer and accidentally placed the end of his cane on a couple of medical sheets preventing Nurse Brenda from retrieving them. She grunted before Cuddy pushed him neatly backwards into the desk. "For once take advantage of the mood I'm in, and disappear. You've done enough."
"Seriously?" He stood back up and tilted his head to the side. "You want me out of the clinic? Is this say the opposite day, or am I getting sued again?"
The Dean of Medicine, finally in control of her work once more turned to him again. "Yes, no, and probably. Insinuating that a 15 year old is an alcoholic to her tea-total parents isn't your smartest move." He shrugged before pretending to brush lint of his jacket sleeve. "So go. Find Wilson and eat his lunch or terrorize your bored fellows. Anything! Just not here."
"Alright I'm gone. Fine" He limped off then, smiling as he went in search of a chocolate cheesecake slice. On his way to the elevators, he noticed the bubbly outline of two colleagues who were oblivious to the icy stare resonating from the diagnostician. "Comforting or, more accurately, sleeping with a fellow co-worker when she could be dying from an incurable disease was so two years ago, Foreman. You seem to be out of touch"
Thirteen and Foreman repelled apart at lightning speed while House hobbled a little close to inspect his staff. "Busy House."
"Yeah I can see that." He smiled before hooking his cane onto his arm and reaching for orange vial of pills inside his blazer pocket. "Does Cuddy know you've been busy here too?" Thirteen rolled her eyes.
"We thought about sneaking around," She said, folding her arms quickly. "But decided it would be better if everyone saw us. We'll be in the sleep labs around half-three if you wan-"
"Wasn't actually addressing you Boreteen," he said on tipping back a pill into his mouth. "Why aren't you both working anyway?"
"No patient?"
"Charting then"
Foreman sighed, his shoulders slumping in acceptance. "Have you done yours?"
"Are you offering to do them? That's awfully nice of you; if you're feeling very generous you could have a look in bottom drawer of my desk."
"No thanks" Foreman and Thirteen took the opportunity to walk off, heading for the stairwell rather than the elevators back to the conference room. House watched them and smiled at the pair of slightly slumped silhouettes now moving out of view. To the left of the stairwell, and now in plain sight was the rack of magazines on issue being sold by the gift-shop. He decided to kill some time and purchase something of interest, as the last time he was in a similar situation he'd resorted to seeing how many times he could throw and catch the giant tennis ball using the curled handle of his cane, and in the process smashed the partition window. Neither Cuddy nor Lou the Caretaker had been impressed by his new record of 86.
TV Guide... People... Enquire... Nothing that he hadn't read twice all ready this week. Nearly giving up hope, he almost missed the glossy magazine right at the back hidden partly by Angelina Jolie's face. He did a double take before snatching the only copy from the shelf and presenting the cashier with money he'd swiped from Wilson earlier. Eagerly he moved through the people in reception and back up to his office.
"What?" Cameron's wheezy voice snapped House from his reading, and he inclined his head to see her panting form using his glass door to stay upright. He could see an imprint of where her palm had originally connected with the pane and the puffy red cheeks expanding and contracting at quite a rate.
"You ran here?" He said dryly, thoroughly amused by the prospected that his old fellow was still at his disposal.
She huffed in exasperation and decided to move off the door and into his yellow seat to settle her rapidly beating heart. Her scrubs were clinging to her slim form and she felt so uncomfortable that she really wanted to leap up and head to the showers. However, she had overestimated how many stairs there were to climb between the ER and here, and the pace she'd set was now coming back to haunt her.
"Seriously?" House asked again. "Running?"
"You said em-er-gen-cy." Cameron said bitterly, half-annoyed with him for paging her, half-annoyed with herself for believing him.
"I say lots of things."
"The last time you paged someone from you office with emergency, you then stabbed a socket with a knife. I didn't want to take the chance that you were just being terrifically annoying." She sat a little more upright than before and brushed her stuck hair from her face. The heat from her face was a little alarming, and was another reason why she needed to set up her running machine again. House's smile had faded a little, and she was sure she saw him glance at his hand. He got up and moved over to the door separating them from the empty conference room.
"I'm not sure I'd deal with the overdose of caring and guilt if I'd electrocuted myself in front of you."
"No well. Let's not go there." She said, not wanting to think about last year's record list of events. "Why did you page me?" He spun on his good leg and showed her magazine clutched in his palm that he'd been reading when she'd run in moments prior. Instead of moving any closer, he chucked it across to her lap and grinned. "Happy Anniversary" He quipped before sidelining it back to his office chair.
Her left eyebrow rose a little as she took in the image now lying on her thighs, a misty black and white picture of a giant chunk of metal that had caused her more happiness than she ever thought could. The font criss-crossing across the picture amused her even more. The most destructive night in New Jersey is back with a vengeance... after four years Gravedigger is back to defend its title...
"Where did you find this?" She asked while flicking the page to see more pictures of the last rally. Imagining the sweet reminiscent taste of candyfloss swimming in her mouth.
"Gift-shop. It's next week."
"I see that." It went quiet then, House avoided her gaze by staring at the bookshelf and Cameron pretended to read the words before her. Then in a sudden burst of excitement, Cameron closed the gap between the magazine and her face. "Wait. Is that...?" He looked up and waited for her to continue, but her eyes did not meet his. Instead, they remained transfixed on the picture before her.
"What?"
"I think..." She stood up and began the journey to his desk, still not lifting her head. She flipped the picture around slowly before placing her manicured fingernail down with the magazine onto his desk. She was pointing at a behind-the scenes shot. "That's us."
"Where" House quickly pulled the pages from beneath her forefinger and stared at it hard. He breathed in slightly. "Oh yea" He paused as if to compose himself. "...I'd recognise that cane a mile off"
"And those ridiculous baseball caps" Cameron said, a whisper of laughter laced in her words. Their eyes finally met once more and she spoke almost automatically. "Are you going again?"
House stretched in his seat, arms towering above her before dropping them behind his head. "Maybe... I doubt I'd get those kinds of tickets again though."
"Once in a lifetime, huh?" She asked, reading a little between the lines again making him smile.
"Something like that. I'm not sure I even really want to go. It's been 4 years, everything's probably changed. I've changed."
"I thought you said people didn't change?"
"I also said everybody lies, so I'm safe." He replied smugly.
"Right."
"You should go."
"Me?" She laughed openly this time. "I'm not sure Chase's hair could handle it." House joined in before adding quickly:
"You and him attached with surgical thread then?"
"Not anymore." She paused. "So, 4 years."
"Yeah"
She sighed. "Things have changed."
"Maybe" And they both smiled.
Thanks for reading, and for anyone who comments I send you a lot of love and thanks in return. xx