Disclaimer: Nope.
A/N: A bit longer, as you ordered. (Don't get used to it.) You may not want to eat while reading this if you're particularly squeamish.
Chapter 53 - Hope Is the Thing with Feathers
(Month 3, Week 4)
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune-without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
~ Emily Dickinson: Hope Is the Thing with Feathers ~
House nervously shuffled his feet, examining the pattern on the floor. The background noises seemed to come from far away, as if they were sounds from a dream that merged with reality. People. Lots of people. The sounds of shoes hitting the floor in a discord of different rhythms. The droning sound of mingled voices pierced by occasional laughter.
Every so often an announcement would come over the speakers, and his head would lift up. Wrong one. And then he'd hate himself for being so eager, and he'd seriously entertain leaving, but somehow, his feet wouldn't move. And he would decide to wait a little longer. Shouldn't take too long now. Rationally, the longer he waited, the higher the probability that she'd arrive any minute now, despite the delay. And just like that probability, so did his nervousness increase from moment to moment.
And then the right announcement came, and he thought that he still had enough time to make it out of there and pretend nothing happened. He stayed rooted to his spot, his eyes scanning the arrival gate. Just a couple more minutes. And then people started coming out of the gate. His mind began screaming, "Go! Save yourself!" but it felt as if his brain was disconnected from the rest of his body.
His nerves were waging an internal battle, his anxiousness slowly bubbling over until he saw her. Right at the end of the crowd. He could still sneak out . . . but then she noticed him, and her face instantly lit up. Just like he imagined it would. Not that he spent long hours thinking about it. She all but ran towards him with a large travel bag bouncing off her hip. What he felt inside. . . . Not even he could deny that it very much resembled happiness.
The next thing he knew, she was in front of him, curling her free hand around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. He gladly obliged, placing his own free hand on the small of her back, keeping her close. And when she ended the kiss . . . all he could see was her smile. Such joy radiated from her face that he couldn't resist the insistent tugging at the corners of his lips.
"I was just in the neighbourhood," was his pathetic attempt at downplaying the gesture. He knew she wouldn't buy it, but he had to do something to keep his dignity intact.
"I know how heart-broken you must have been for not being able to see me for that long, so I thought I'd shorten the torture."
She didn't say a word. There was no need as her eyes spoke volumes, as did her lips when she gave him another kiss.
"Let's go," she finally said, slipping out of his half-embrace.
She didn't need some elaborate gestures. Not from him. Small gestures done from the heart were more than enough to win her over, such as coming to meet her at the airport, or curling his fingers around her palm when it inadvertently found its way into his.
# # #
He pushed open the door to his apartment, and as soon as she followed him inside, he pressed her against it, slamming it shut in the process. His lips were on hers before she could process what was going on. The bag slid off her shoulder and hit the floor with a soft thud, joining his discarded cane. He pressed harder against her, his lips now trailing down her neck.
"Wait," she breathed out as soon as he released her lips, but he paid her no mind.
Instead, he grabbed hold of one of her legs, and hooked it around his hip. Their eyes met for a brief moment, before his lips once again found hers. What she could see was intense focus drowned in desire. This was what caught her off guard more than anything.
She felt wanted for the first time. For the first time, she felt that he wasn't just using her to get his rocks off. This time he wanted to have sex with her, because he was attracted to her, and he made no attempt to hide it. She'd have to be a fool to deny him now, especially since she found this new assertive side a huge turn on. Giving in to him, she slid her hands around his torso.
He must have understood her silent communication, because the next thing she knew, he was walking her backwards towards the bedroom. They stumbled down the hallway, all the while fumbling with each other's clothes, desperately trying to get rid of them. After nearly falling over several times, and crashing into the bedroom door, they finally managed to enter their destination with House pushing the door closed behind them with a resounding bang.
A hot session of lovemaking later, they lay spent in bed, still holding each other. Cameron ran her hand slowly up and down his damp chest, amazed that he wasn't shying away.
"I'm hungry," she mumbled after a while.
"Pizza?" he asked.
"Mhm, anchovies. You order it while I take a shower." With one last kiss, she walked towards the bathroom, not bothering to cover herself up.
House kept his eyes on her, admiring her body in all its naked glory until she disappeared from his view.
# # #
When she entered the living room, clean and wearing a fresh, comfortable pair of clothes, House had just closed the door, holding two large pizza boxes. They settled comfortably on the couch and eagerly delved into the food. The TV was tuned to Animal Planet, but with the sound barely audible, it was more of a background, than a source of entertainment.
"So how was the conference? Meet any hot young doctors?" House asked while chewing on a large slice.
"I was too busy missing you," she said jokingly while chewing on her slice.
If only he knew how close to the truth that was.
"What about you? Meet any hot young nurses?"
He contemplated for a few moments, before slowly answering, "Yes. . . . In fact, I met one. She called me, and I quote 'insufferable'. The audacity of her . . . I should talk to Cuddy. These nurses are getting fresher every day. You'll see, one day they'll start imagining that it's they who're healing the patients."
She laughed and shook her head. "It wouldn't hurt you if you were a bit nicer to them."
"Sure. Get on their side. See, they're forgetting who's who here. I'm the doctor and they're the flunkeys. They're supposed to do my bidding, not vice versa. Like it's my fault they're not intelligent enough to pass med school. Not to mention Wilson. . . ."
"What about him?" she asked curiously.
"He's been a major pain in the ass while you were gone. Apparently he believes that since his life is miserable, that everyone around him should be miserable too," he complained.
"James wouldn't do that. Whatever he did, I'm sure it was well-deserved."
He glared at her, finishing the last slice. "Gee, thanks for having my back."
"What?" she said, shrugging.
His eyes drifted to her last two remaining slices.
"Ever heard of surströmming? It's a Swedish dish, fermented herring sold in cans. It looks just like those anchovies, but it smells so horrible that people often eat it outside."
Cameron looked at him suspiciously, but kept eating.
"Or snake wine. . . . They put a whole snake in a jar with alcohol; it's supposed to be medicinal. Also, all sorts of lizards, deer penises, and whatever else they can think of."
She slowly finished chewing and swallowed the bite, before moving her hand holding the pizza a bit further from her mouth.
"Or casu marzu, a traditional Italian cheese with live larvae, which can launch themselves at you when agitated, or dig a hole into your stomach lining, if not properly chewed."
Cameron placed her half-eaten slice back into the pizza box, verging somewhere between fascinated and disgusted.
"What about balut, traditional street food from the Philippines? It's a fertilized egg with a partially developed foetus inside. When you open it, you see the yolk and the little chick . . ."
"If you wanted my pizza, you could have just said so," Cameron interrupted him while pushing the pizza box closer to him.
"But that wouldn't be as much fun," he replied, before shoving a large piece into his mouth, as if it was nothing.
He had his moments that could drive most people crazy, but she liked this quirky side of him. Every day with him was an adventure, and she suspected that no matter how much time she'd spend with him, he'd never cease to surprise her. This particular 'quality' was never high on her list of desired characteristics in a man, but after spending so much time with Greg, she didn't think she could ever truly love someone who couldn't keep her on her toes.
Watching him swallow the rest of the pizza, she realised that she already got more from him that day than she imagined she would, but there was still more to come. Later that evening, with the pizza boxes removed and TV showing a stereotypical action move, he was the one who pulled her closer, draping his arm across her shoulders like it was second nature to him. She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, as the exhaustion from the long day began to set in.
He gave her hope that day, and it was the most precious present he could ever give her.
A/N: In a few hours my first lectures in this school year will start which means . . . Actually, I have no idea what it means. The updates will probably still be quite regular for a while as it's only the beginning, therefore there is not need to panic just yet.
