Cameron snatched the bread out of the toaster and slathered it with butter before sitting down with Matt and Shelly and baby Greg. She rubbed her gritty eyes and yawned rather obnoxiously. One night with House and she was wore out, and not in a good way.
"You look like hell," Matt joked. "You and Dr. House have a...rough night? OW!" he cried, as Shelly smacked him hard on the arm. "I didn't mean it like that," he defended himself, shuddering in disgust. "She's my sister. You have a dirty mind," he said to his wife and waggled his eyebrows at her, "which I normally like, but save it for later tonight."
Cameron ignored Matt's antics, focusing instead on her toast. "He's...The bed is too small for him. I think his leg was bothering him," she confessed, leaving out the part where she had lain awake all night clenching because House was in pain and she felt helpless to do anything about it.
"We've got that queen size air mattress upstairs. Maybe he could sleep on that tonight," Shelly suggested, as she mixed formula for the baby.
"Yeah, maybe. But where are we gonna put it?" Cameron wondered.
"If we put the beds together and move your nightstand, I think there'd be enough space on the floor of your room," Matt offered, around a mouthful of cereal. Despite all his jokes and teasing, he had a big, generous heart that hated to see anyone suffer. Even misanthropic, antisocial bastards like House. And Cameron loved him all the more for it.
"Thanks Matt," she said, kissing him on the cheek.
"Are you still gonna watch Greg today? I mean...with your guest and all...I'll understand if you can't," Shelly chimed in distractedly, as she cleared away the breakfast mess.
"Of course, I'm still watching him. Greg and I have big plans for the day, don't we?" Cameron cooed at her nephew, who smiled and reached for a strand of her hair. She scooped him up and sat him on her knee, placing his bottle in his chubby hands and kissing the top of his head as he drank it down hungrily.
Matt had finished inhaling his own breakfast and was throwing together a Scooby Doo sized sandwich for his lunch later. "I've got enough time to move your bed before I leave for work," he said. "If Dr. House is up, we could do it now."
"I think he's in the shower."
Cameron handed the baby back to Shelly and followed Matt to her room. Between the two of them, they managed to lift one bed and place it above the other, forming bunks. She dragged the nightstand to the end of the beds and moved the lamp and alarm clock while Matt ran upstairs and brought down the air mattress, showing her how to inflate it before he left for work.
It was just beginning to swell with air when House came in, freshly showered and bare chested, his hair damp and sticking up at all angles, jeans hanging low on his hips. Cameron had never been more tempted to jump him than right that moment.
"What's all this?" he asked, reaching in his bag for a shirt and pulling it over his head. "Inflatable boyfriend? I never pegged you for the type."
"M-Matt thought you'd be able to sleep better on this," she explained, inwardly cursing herself for stuttering.
"So your chronic kindness is not just genetic. Your brother is infected with it as well."
"Only you would consider kindness a disease," she retorted. Stepping back to make room for the rapidly expanding mattress, her heel to caught on House's cane and she fell on her ass right at his feet.
"Graceful," he smirked, holding out a hand to pull her up. "I know how literal you are, but this falling for me thing is a little too obvious."
She could think of no response, so she settled for the standard eye roll as she placed her hand in his. He hoisted her up so suddenly, the momentum pulled her right up against his chest, and she almost knocked him over in the process. His arms held her to him, her hands curled around his biceps. If he hadn't put his shirt on already, her hands would be touching his bare skin. She was sure she'd have done something stupid, but oh so enjoyable, like run her tongue over his nipples and trace the veins on his arms with her fingertips. And why did he have to smell so good?
He held onto her far longer than was necessary, his gaze boring into hers like vivid blue lasers, and she was certain he knew exactly what she was thinking. Finally he turned away, digging for something in his bag as if her proximity had no effect on him whatsoever. Pulling out his vial of Vicodin, he popped one in his mouth before stuffing it in his pocket and turning back to her.
"So, what's on the agenda for today?"
"I'm...babysitting my nephew," she said, regretting that it came out more like a question than a statement. Chewing her lower lip in concentration, she tried to think of ways to keep House entertained. Ways that didn't involve ripping off his clothing and taking a detailed anatomical survey.
House briefly entertained the notion of getting into his rental, driving to the airport and going home. Being this close to her had awakened up Mount Gregory and there was very little privacy to take care of his...needs himself. Besides, there was nothing to do here and he felt awkward and out of place. But there was something compelling about studying Cameron in her natural habitat. Something that held more appeal than going home to TiVo and expensive alcohol.
Shelly came in with the baby on her hip. "Ally, your mom and I are leaving now. There are bottles in the fridge if Greg gets hungry. Oh and make sure he doesn't..." She stopped, looking from Cameron to House and back again. "Are you sure you don't want me to take Greg with me? It's not a big deal if..."
"No, it's fine," Cameron answered, taking the baby from Shelly. "You go. Have fun."
She followed Shelly out of the room and out the back door, taking Greg's hand and waving it at his mother as Shelly and Jill left.
"So, you weren't invited to go...wherever they're going?" House asked, waving in the direction of the road. "That's just rude."
She jumped at the sound of his voice so close, his breath warm on her face, tickling the strands of hair along her temple. "They're going furniture shopping. I'd rather stay home and watch Greg," she shrugged. "And I need to help my dad with his physio exercises anyway." She moved to go back inside, House trailing behind her.
As soon as they were inside, House sighed dramatically and declared, "I'm bored. And hungry." He began opening cupboards and rummaging through them, pulling out a box of cereal with a mischievous grin. "Count Chocula?" he asked, immediately pulling out two more boxes. "Frankenberry and Boo Berry too?"
God, she was going to have to entertain two children today, apparently, she thought. And they were both named Greg. "Those are Matt's. There's bread and peanut butter, jelly, butter with cinnamon sugar...Help yourself." She gestured toward the counter where all the breakfast things were still laid out. "And didn't you bring your gameboy or whatever that thing is you play with in your office?"
"Wouldn't you like to know what I play with in my office?" he said with a waggle of his eyebrows, while smearing peanut butter on a slice of bread.
"Hey, Dr. House. Let's go get some air," Jack said, rolling himself past the kitchen and toward the door. "Bring your sandwich, you can eat it out here."
House bit back a sarcastic retort and murmured to Cameron, "Oh goody, is this where I get the 'what are your intentions toward my daughter' speech? And here I thought I was going to be bored." He dropped his sandwich on the counter and followed Jack out into the yard.
Cameron watched, concerned and yet moved by the sight of the two of them together. These were the two most important men in her life. They made quite a pair, one struggling to maneuver the wheelchair through the grass and the other leaning on his cane and moving with an uneven, yet strangely graceful gait. She had no idea what her father wanted to say to House. Not one single clue. She probably would've continued watching, trying to interpret through their expressions and gestures what they were talking about, but baby Greg demanded her attention.
House had barely sat down, when the interrogation started. "So... what are you doing here?" Jack asked, pinning House with that disconcerting gaze that was so much like Cameron's.
House suddenly found the side of the garage of great interest. "I came to get Cam...Allison to come back to work. I don't want to hire someone new," he answered, the end of his cane leaving divets in the grass where he tapped it unconsciously.
"And that's it?" her father asked, skeptically. "She has feelings for you."
"It's a crush. She'll get over it."
Jack laughed at that--the kind of laugh that said you're an idiot if you really believe that. "My daughter has never had a crush in her entire life. She never even showed any kind of romantic interest in anyone until she met Alex in college. And she married him. She tell you about that?"
House nodded, wanting nothing more than to limp away as fast as he could, but he felt paralyzed by those blue-green eyes looking at him so intently. And then there was the irresistible draw of learning more about Alex. Was it possible to envy a dead man?
As much as he hated this situation, he couldn't help but respect the man sitting before him. If he had a daughter like Cameron... Well he wouldn't want her hooking up with just any idiot that came along. Let alone a bastard such as himself.
"And now she's showing an interest in you. So I'll ask you again, why are you here? And don't give me that bullshit about not wanting to hire someone new. You don't fly all the way here just for that. I've seen the way you look at her."
"I don't know," House answered, his gaze not wavering from Jack's now. He scrubbed his hand over his scruffy face and repeated it. "I don't know." It was the most honest thing he'd said since he'd arrived.
"She's strong. Stronger than I've ever been," Jack said, his voice filled with pride. "But when she lost Alex...Well, I just don't want to see her hurt again. You understand?"
Again House nodded. He didn't want to see her hurt either, which is why they'd never work. Because that's what he did. He hurt people, even when he didn't mean to. He should have gotten up and walked away right then, but his curiosity and rebellious streak got the better of him and he had to ask. "If you're so keen on not seeing her hurt, then why do you let your wife treat her like dirt?" His voice was gruff, angry.
Jack looked shocked at the question and even a little ashamed. He cleared his throat and answered, studying his fingernails rather than look at House. "There's a lot of history there that...well, even Ally doesn't know about. Believe me, I've tried to...I want them to be close, but...I guess I've failed." He slumped a little in defeat and House almost felt sorry for him.
"I don't want to hurt her either," House spoke, breaking the tense silence that had descended. "But that's what I do. I'm not a nice man."
Jack looked him in the eye then, his look direct and piercing, making House want to squirm. "I get the feeling that you're a good man, deep down inside," he said, patting his heart.
House scoffed at that, rubbing his furrowed brow. "Then that would make you as hopelessly optimistic as your daughter."
Jack laughed and started propelling himself toward the garage. "Maybe so," he said. "Maybe so. Come on, I want to show you something. You like cars?" He gestured for House to follow him, and House hoped there'd be no more deep and meaningful conversations as he stood and made his way to the garage.
MD MD MD MD MD
Armed with more facts about 1963 Dodge Chargers than he'd ever anticipated knowing in his entire life, he found Cameron in the kitchen an hour later. He stood in the doorway, unnoticed, and watched her pull pint-sized garments out of a laundry basket and fold them awkwardly before placing them on the table in a pile.
She was singing off key to the baby, who was sitting in a walker on the floor beside her, sucking on his fist. House didn't recognize the song, but he found it amusing and rather sweet nonetheless. As the word "sweet" entered his thoughts, he scowled. She looked so natural and domestic and maternal, and everything he never thought he'd want and he definitely shouldn't be thinking words like "sweet." This is probably what she wanted someday, a rug rat of her own to sing to and love. And there was no place for him in that scenario.
Wondering why he felt so conflicted about it, he turned away and went in search of a distraction.