Welcome to the club
The following evening, Cameron was driving to Wilson's apartment trying to keep her nerves under control. It was strange. Even before her initial dates with House she hadn't felt quite this apprehensive. She pulled up to the traffic lights and turned over some reasons as to why it might be. In the first instance, she had always felt weirdly comfortable around House. From the moment she had walked into Diagnostics, his mannerisms and calculated antagonism, rather than being annoying, had actually seemed familiar. Perhaps because she had grown up in a male-dominated household, a sister to two brothers, the role of lightning rod came naturally to her. More than this, though, as she had told House a while ago, she liked being in his orbit because he seemed a kindred spirit. The aloofness he cultivated, the diffidence to others, was a mirror to herself and it had the unintended consequence of making him even more desirable.
Cameron glanced over to the phone screen, double-checking the route. Wilson lived in an expensive part of Princeton, an area she hadn't yet visited. The beer bottles clinked together softly on the passenger seat. Satisfied, she got back to thinking. The main explanation for why she hadn't been overly nervous about dating House was simply because, as she'd admitted two nights ago, a lot of practice had gone into coping with her feelings for him. There was little he could do that would surprise her, and this fact, no matter how their relationship went in the future, was always a comfort. Thus, although their dates had technically been a journey into the unknown in the physical sense; mentally, she had a couple of years' preparation in the bank. It was House, and she knew him.
The car glided down tree-lined roads amply lit by streetlamps at regular intervals. The nerves were churning in her stomach, as if daring her to diagnose their cause. Gambit accepted, snorted Cameron. The cause was Wilson. Specifically, the importance she knew he held to House and the position he occupied as the next stage in the development of their relationship. This was a reflection upon which she'd alighted in the cafeteria yesterday. For a normal boyfriend, meeting the parents was an equivalent step. Obviously, House's parents were still alive, and she had met them briefly, but really their role had been assumed by Cuddy and Wilson, because they were the ones who had seen the diagnostician at his worst. Cameron had met with Mom last week. It was time now to meet Dad. Scary.
Cameron followed the disembodied voice on her phone and pulled up to a posh, red brick block, complete with white picket fence and well-tended lawns. Straightaway, she liked it. For some reason, she had pictured Wilson living in a drab, functional building like his best friend. But now that she was here, it seemed exactly the kind of place the oncologist would live. Cameron knew he'd been married until fairly recently. Perhaps it was the family home, picked for its comfortable suburban gentility and access to good schools.
The brunette couldn't help but think that she would like to raise a family in a neighbourhood like this when the time came. But who with? You know who with. Cameron shut off the engine and closed her eyes, pushing aside such thoughts. With a quick glance in the mirror she exited and walked around to the passenger side, opening the door and retrieving the crate of beer. It was probably too much, but better to be safe than sorry. Having locked the car she trooped up to the main entrance, using her elbow to ring the bell by her host's name. There were only three others, each stylishly embossed on a brass panel.
Wilson answered and buzzed her up to the first floor. He opened the door and immediately made to take the crate of beer from her. "I think you have us confused with the fraternity house opposite".
Cameron laughed. "Yeah, I wondered if it was a bit over the top".
Wilson grinned. "I'm sure we'll manage. Please, come in. The living room is just through there. House isn't here yet, surprise surprise. I'll stick these out of harm's way, though I have wine if you'd prefer?".
"Nah, beer is fine for now, thanks". The brunette left her boots by the door and wandered down the hallway, taking in the intricately carved table in the hallway and the pale carpets. The living area gave way to a huge flatscreen, bookcases, and leather sofa suite, in front of which rested a dark coffee table.
The setup immediately reminded her of House's place, except for the photographs on the shelves. She skimmed over the pictures. Most were of groups of people she didn't recognise, some young children whom she presumed were nieces and nephews. But amidst the collection, there was one of House and Wilson at a baseball game and another of them at a monster truck rally, leaning against the huge wheel of Gravedigger and grinning like idiots at the camera. Of course, she'd seen it with him herself. Unfortunately, no picture had been taken. That was something she'd have to rectify in due course.
Wilson came in and tracked her gaze. "That was a fun evening. House managed to swing the disabled card and got us seats by the pit wall".
"He always seems to get what he wants, doesn't he?", observed Cameron, taking the beer, which had been decanted into an Oktoberfest glass.
The oncologist shrugged. "It's hard to say. He tends to land on his feet, though, more times than not. I guess I'm an enabler in that sense. And now you are too. Welcome to the club". The two clinked glasses.
"Pleased to be here", she replied. "Is there a membership fee, or a convention I have to attend?".
"No, but it's the duty of all full members to ensure that he never, and I mean never, gets his hands on a mobility scooter".
Cameron laughed. "I'll bear that in mind". The pair settled into the sofa. "You have a lovely home".
Wilson inclined his head. "Thanks. It's a nice place, but it's really too big for me. I'm probably going to move out in the near future and find somewhere a touch more affordable". The brunette surmised from his tone that he was keeping something back, and she could guess it concerned his ex-wife. It wasn't her business, though, and she refrained from asking. "Besides", he added, "House is constantly complaining that I live too far away. Might be nice to get back into town. I do feel a bit isolated out here, to be honest. Do you live close by the hospital then?".
Cameron took a draught of beer. "Yep, it's just an apartment a few miles away. Pretty small, but it serves my needs well. Been there since I started my fellowship. I pay rent every month and the landlord leaves me to it".
"Not looking to get your own place?".
"I have thought about it. But my fellowship contract is renewed yearly, so investing in a place has always seemed a bit of a risk. I'm not complaining, though. The salary's great, and so's the work. Maybe if the hospital took me on permanently, I'd look to buy".
Wilson nodded, quietly impressed at Cameron's practicality. Someone this equable was tailor-made for House. "Would you want to work here permanently? You're from Chicago, right?".
"Born and raised. I adore Princeton, though, and I'd love to stay at PPTH in the long-term".
"But…?", prodded Wilson with a smile.
The immunologist gave a wink, but he could tell from the far-off sound of her voice that she was revealing something she hadn't yet come to terms with herself. "But", she began, "it depends on House. As long as he's here, I'm here. If he ended up moving away…", she trailed off, unwilling to finish that particular train of thought.
"And if he asked you to move away with him?", asked the oncologist.
Cameron's gaze over the glass was unwavering. "I'd say 'when do we leave?'".
Wilson looked down as he spoke. "And if he was still at PPTH but you guys were no longer together?". It was a tough question, but he needed an answer. No matter how well things were going now, there was a reason House had been alone for so long. Suitable Cameron may be, but that was no guarantee of longevity. The oncologist knew from experience that, as far as his idiosyncratic friend was concerned, it paid to be prepared for any outcome.
The other sat back, cradling her drink. "Then I would have to think over my options very carefully. Would I be able to go back to being just his fellow? Would I be content working in a different area of the hospital? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not". Cameron knew herself to be resilient, independent, and strong-minded. She had matured so much as both a doctor and a person in the few years she had been at PPTH. House had played a large part in this. But if the situation arose that she would no longer be able to think of him romantically, let alone that she would not be allowed to kiss him or feel his stubble against her cheek…she didn't know if she would be strong enough to go back to the way things were.
The man smiled faintly, and the familiar sound of a motorbike reverberated through the room from the street below. "Fair enough".
"Did I pass the test?", she asked, draining her glass and handing it to Wilson, who got up to refill it and answer the door.
"Yes. House is lucky to have you".
She tilted her head. "I consider myself the lucky one. But would you mind not telling House what we just spoke about? I don't want to spook him unnecessarily".
"Of course. You know that anything you tell me in that regard will remain secret unless you say otherwise. Scout's honour". Wilson moved into the hallway and opened the door with only a grunt at House before heading into the kitchen for more drinks.
The man himself loped into the living room, half out of his biker jacket before Cameron wordlessly enveloped him in a deep hug, resting her head against his shoulder. House responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her. "Hey, what's up? Are you OK? Wilson hasn't made a move on you, has he?".
Cameron smiled into the leather, loving how it smelled of fumes and House. "Nothing like that. I'm just really glad you're here. I missed you".
The nephrologist kissed her hair. "I saw you like two hours ago at work".
"Exactly. Just in time for another hug, I reckon". She pulled him into a kiss, running her hands over his chest, then his cheeks. With a quick glance to check Wilson was still in the kitchen, she whispered in his ear. "You make me so hot, House…".
He pulled back, a grin on his face. "Does that mean I'm getting the good lovin' tonight?".
The brunette chuckled. "Sure, as long as you're comfortable sleeping with me on a weeknight".
"I am if you are", he replied, looking into her eyes.
"It's settled then. One of us is gonna have to go easy on the sauce though, otherwise we can't drive back to yours".
House finally disentangled himself and hung up his jacket. "No need. Wilson has a guest bedroom. Actually, it's more like my bedroom. My house away from home".
"We should at least ask him. It's rude not to".
"I was kind of hoping we could have sex just us two, to be honest", he commented, collapsing onto the couch and yanking her down with him.
Cameron poked him in the chest. "You know what I meant, genius".
The diagnostician rolled his eyes but nevertheless called out. "Oi, Jimmy. Can we stay here tonight?".
"Sure!", came the reply. "Is it safe for me to come back in now? I'm not sure I can drag out pouring these drinks much longer".
"It's safe!", called the brunette, before adding softly in a whisper to her neighbour: "You'd best hope he has condoms too, otherwise corporal House's night will be ending before it begins". The man prepared to yell at Wilson again, but Cameron immediately stuffed her hand over his mouth. "You are not asking him that, buster".
House's eyes twinkled and he held his palms up in defeat, but not before licking the hand pressed against his lips. She giggled and withdrew, wiping it against his shirt. "Smart", he nodded sagely, "you know exactly where that tongue has been, eh?". Before she could think of a reply, Wilson came into the living room, handing over glasses of beer to his guests. House took a sip and hummed appreciatively. "I'm not a massive beer drinker, but this isn't half bad".
"I know. Cameron brought a crate of the stuff".
"A woman after my own heart". The diagnostician sipped again. "Now that I think about it, it tastes familiar. Where did you get it?".
"Believe it or not, I got it from the German restaurant we visited recently. They're not really meant to sell individual items to customers, but I asked nicely and Hermann diverted a crate my way at knock-off price".
House raised an eyebrow. "Hermann?"
"Yeah. I think he had the hots for me. I got it far too cheaply". Cameron could see both men looking at her and shrugged. "Newsflash. Guys do the silliest things if they think they're in with a shot".
"Yes, well, it's not our fault, believe me", commented the oncologist drily, all the times he had bought gifts and drinks for women flashing before his eyes. "Speaking of getting things, what have you brought, House?".
"Ah, well, I think you'll like it". He made his way over to his jacket and retrieved a brown paper bag, holding it out to his friend. "Close your eyes and have a whiff of this. It'll blow your little socks off".
The other looked suspiciously back but closed his eyes and sniffed regardless. The smell was truly divine. "Wow, that's unbelievable. What is it?".
"Chocolate brownies", House exclaimed triumphantly.
"Oh, great. Let me have a look". Cameron reached out for the bag, but her hand was slapped away.
"Absolutely not. You'll vacuum up all the smell molecules with that hooter of yours. Besides, last time I gave you one of these you demolished it inside ten seconds. Lesson learned". The nephrologist reverently replaced the bag, keeping his eyes fixed on his girlfriend in case she made a sudden movement, but she did nothing except smirk.
"You've had one of these before? How was it?", asked Wilson.
"In a word: heaven", she replied.
House sat back down and took a swig of beer. "Well, Camster here thought I'd bought her a Tiffany necklace. She was very quickly relieved of that notion".
"How can you confuse a brownie and jewellery?", queried the other.
"He cunningly hid it in a fancy box. I'm not a complete moron", stated Cameron, pretending to be offended.
"Naturally", conceded Wilson. "But I wonder where he got such a box?".
House tapped his nose. "I'm afraid I can't say. Trade-".
"-secret and all that", finished the brunette. "Yes, you've said that before. You're evading".
"Nope. I'm hungry. When's that pizza getting here, Wilma?". Just as he finished talking, the buzzer erupted.
Wilson got to his feet with a sigh, but not before pointing to Cameron from the doorway. "Guard my drink, please. He likes to insert…foreign substances into my beverages for no good reason".
"There's a reason", he whispered to her.
"To piss him off?", she mouthed back.
"Got it in one", replied House, pulling her close and relaxing back into the leather, completely content. It was shaping up to be a good night indeed.