Here it is... the final installment... sniff,sniff I'm feeling all nostaligic already! Writing this has been a great experience for me, and I'm so glad that so many of you have enjoyed it as well. I hope that you're all pleased and content with the ending... and yes, a sequel is bouncing around in my head... maybe in a few weeks after I give my brain a little rest.
And
now for the favor... I know I've never asked for reviews (although I
have SO appreciated every one I've received!) but now I am. I'm
just curious as to how many people have been reading, so I'm asking you
to please drop just a short message, especially if you've never
reviewed before. Obviously it isn't mandatory and please don't
think I've suddenly turned into someone who only writes for the for the
feedback ;-)
Thank you all for sticking with this for so long... you've been absolutely wonderful.
Epilogue
The most visible joy can only reveal itself to us when we have transformed it within.
--R.M.Rilke
Somewhere in the distance a long whine ended in a sharp crack. The sound had been repeated, at various intervals, throughout the day, as citizens throughout Princeton opted to celebrate the founding of their country by breaking one of its laws. Occasionally the sound of an ambulance could also be heard; carting the wounded off for repairs, House had declared. Cameron's light laughter had followed and she'd carried her coffee from the kitchen to the living room.
The townhouse was now as familiar to her as her own apartment, the early feelings of caution and reserve having been long since abandoned. House never told her, but he enjoyed watching her when she was in his little domain. When she wasn't looking, he studied her graceful movements and the careless way she draped herself onto chair or sofa or floor. For a while, every visit had seemed like the next frame in one of those sped-up botanical films. An extra long sigh here, a kicked-off shoe, there, a lazy smile pressed against his bare chest. Hour, by hour, he swore he could see her opening as clearly as any flower. For that short, yet too long, week before the trial she had closed up, but on the day of her testimony she had begun to unfurl again, and now she was in full-bloom. In off moments he wondered if his own subtle transformation had been as obvious. He was certain that no one at the hospital could tell the difference. To them, he was the same irascible bastard he'd always been, but sometimes, alone with Cameron, he caught her looking at him and her thoughtful look spoke of seeing things she'd never noticed before because they hadn't been there.
"Seven letter word for 'affectionate hugging'," Cameron said while drawing an intricate twisting vine in the margins around the crossword puzzle.
House was at the piano, playing appropriately patriotic songs. The pause in between the first and second phrase of 'American Pie' was nearly undetectable. "Snuggle."
A slight nod, and she looked back at the paper. She was lounging on the sofa, soft leather sticking to the backs of her thighs and calves and shoulders. House had wanted to turn on the air conditioner but she had argued against it and insisted on throwing open all the windows instead. Now a warm July breeze circled the room, not really cooling, but tickling over skin and hair.
Cameron didn't mind. She liked the feel of the air on skin she had, for a brief time, expected to keep carefully shrouded forever. Now, clad in a sundress of sheerest white eyelet, with hair piled into a haphazard twist, she felt free. She felt beautiful. Her thumb traced idly over the bottom edge of her scar, barely hidden by thin material. The top of the scar was plainly visible over the low, round neckline, but as she raised her eyes and saw House looking at her while he played, she knew he wasn't seeing it at all.
"Four letter word for noisy kiss."
House looked back at the piano and sped up the tempo for a measure.
"Buss," he answered. "And why are you doing the crossword puzzle? You're not turning into Chase on me, are you?" he continued, with a mock-horrified tone.
A playful smirk danced across her lips. "No, but crossword puzzles do keep your mind active. Or would you rather challenge me to another game of chess?" she asked sweetly.
A full body shudder was his answer and she laughed. House sneered and started playing a rendition of the national anthem. Cameron had handed him two humiliating defeats over the past two weeks and he wasn't eager for another rematch. At least not until he'd finished reading Vukovic's Art of Attack in Chess which he had stashed in his desk drawer at work. In fact, he was almost considering bribing Wilson to play for practice. Hopefully he'd still be able to beat him.
"Are we still going to the fireworks tonight?" Cameron asked brightly, while twirling her pen.
"I never should have told you about Wilson begging us for a date. I thought you'd laugh it off," House said.
"Nice try, House. You're just as big a kid as we are when it comes to shiny things exploding. Don't even bother trying to pretend you're not."
House put on a reasonable facsimile of a scowl and Cameron rolled her eyes.
"I'll buy you an ice-cream and one of those glow in the dark necklaces," she jokingly wheedled.
"Hmm. Two necklaces and you don't get to steal any of my ice-cream."
Cameron's grin had taken possession of her face as she nodded agreement before turning back to the paper. A few moments of silence passed and then House started playing again; the nocturne that Cameron loved.
"Six letter word for desperate need. Starts with a 'd'."
"Desire," House answered as the music swelled. "What is that, the Playboy crossword?"
Her soft laugh drifted to his ears and he continued playing.
He turned as he heard Cameron toss section D of the Sunday paper onto the floor, where it landed softly on sections A, B, C, E and F. They had read everything of interest while eating breakfast, reading especially interesting or amusing stories aloud and passing pages back and forth. On the front page of section B, below the fold, was one article neither of them read, because both of them already knew it by heart. Anthony Prentis had been found guilty by a jury of his peers over two weeks earlier, and on Friday the judge had sentenced him to what would amount to a lifetime behind bars. Cameron had been invited to go to the sentencing hearing, but she had declined and Atherton had called her with the news instead. Other than that blip in their routine, the day had been like any other in their slowly intertwining life.
Cameron let the pen slip from her fingers onto the stack of paper and closed her eyes as House continued playing. When the song ended, she heard the light scraping of the piano bench being pushed back, and then the muffled thump of House's footsteps and cane. She felt his warmth beside her and looked up to see his hand outstretched as if to help her up. Her eyelashes fluttered as she met his gaze with a coyly quizzical look.
House's eyes went from the completely blank, yet heavily decorated crossword puzzle to the hall that led to the bedroom. "You think I can't take a hint?"
Cameron ignored her rising blush, placed her hand in his, and allowed him to pull her to her feet and flush against his body. "Nope. I know just how smart you are."
The familiar smirk slid into place. "Such shameless flattery, Doctor."
She looked up at him with satisfaction. "Works every time."
He left his cane leaning against the end-table and draped an arm around Cameron's shoulder instead as he directed her down the hall.
So this is what this feels like.
It was a sentence he'd repeated to himself almost every day since the first time it had occurred to him. It never got old, and the feeling of slightly bewildered awe remained the same. They reached the bedroom door, and Cameron paused and turned towards him, raising one hand to touch his jaw, just because she could. House looked in her eyes, wide and unveiled, and saw his own thoughts reflected back at him. Yes, this is what this feels like.
