Disclaimer: I don't own House M.D.-- dammit!
A/N: Well, this is the first time I've done this. :) I'm glad those of you who read and/or commented enjoyed Finally so much. I really had a good time writing it and am very happy with the direction it took. I was initially going to make this second part flow directly from Finally but, here it is-- the sequel. Thank you to those who told me to do it, and thank you so much to everyone for the kind comments and reviews! I love to hear that you like what I'm writing. I begin here with the final scene from Finally, just in case- if anyone has recently read Finally, of course, feel free to skip over this scene :)
I feel I should clarify so that all of you can get as much out of this as I am-- I have no intention of putting Cam with anyone-- not Foreman, not Chase, and not even Wilson. I have included these three men (and any others) merely as devices to both demonstrate Cameron's character through her intereactions with fellow colleagues, etc., and to display Houses' jealous nature, even during everyday matters-- for example, the 'massage' scene with Foreman/Cameron in Finally. There, with that said, hopefully all will now see the angst I'm attempting to convey when House is jealous over absolutely-- and literally-- nothing. :)
ACMD- Love your reviews, as always! Re: Wilson-- 'What are my intentions?' Well, basically as above, I'm using him as a tool to facilitate Houses' rage. True, he is clearly a ladies man, but a ladies man with a heart of gold. Everything I have him do-- just as pretty much everything I've seen him do on House is genuine. For example: the lunch scene with Cameron is intended to be exactly that-- lunch with a colleague. The amusing bit is that House knows what kind of man James Wilson is, and also that Wilson is his best friend, so the angst over 'is he or isn't he' is even greater!
Wow, that was long, eh? I hope you like it! I'll try and update as often as possible. :)
'punzzle
From "Finally":
Cameron yawned and leaned back in her chair reaching her long arms above her head to stretch her stiff back. She glanced at her watch and gasped softly—6:44. She had stayed much longer than she'd intended.
Cameron shuffled the stack of paper before her into a neat pile and rose from the desk. Striding to her closet she retrieved her satchel and suit jacket. Despite the later hour, she doubted the summer heat had dissipated all that much so she merely draped the Chanel coat over her arm. As she turned to exit the conference room she was shocked to see Houses' lamp on, its' light drawing her like a moth towards his adjoining office. He was seated at his desk—looking very much the same way he had that morning. Cameron bit her full bottom lip and shook her head—she was best-served not interfering anymore. She drifted towards the conference room door and paused, her palm pressed against the cool glass. She sighed wearily and shook her head—"You'll never learn, Allison" she muttered, turning and entering his office instead.
The room was silent. The uncharacteristic lack of music gave Cameron to worry over his well-being all over again. She stood just inside the door waiting for some reaction—there was none. Houses' gaze lingered on something outside his office window. Cameron hesitated—"Rain?" she questioned softly.
House turned slowly to regard her, his eyes sweeping over her soft features.
"No…" he said at last. Cameron's brow twitched upwards in response.
"It's beautiful actually."
His voice was low and thick, as if he had been dragged from a dream. Cameron smiled softly.
"Summer" she said simply with a vague shrug.
House nodded, blinking his expressive eyes. He cleared his throat and swiveled his chair around to face his desk.
"You're in late" Cameron mused, taking a step towards him.
House looked up at her briefly before dropping his eyes to the desk top. He shuffled a few loose pages and cleared his throat again.
"Busy, busy, busy" he quipped.
Cameron nodded slightly—"Well, goodnight." She turned towards his office door.
"How are you feeling?" His question surprised her and she turned back to face him, blinking.
"Um… fine" she said in confusion.
House leaned back in his chair to regard her and fixed his now composed gaze on hers. His brow twitched upwards in what Cameron thought might be disbelief or irritation.
"Rumor had it you weren't feeling well today" he said, an icy glint to his otherwise mellow tone.
Cameron laughed lightly, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Oh… I had a bit of a headache—I'm fine" she smiled.
Houses' gaze fell on her smile and lingered a moment—how could any woman have so pleasant a mouth? He nodded, shaking himself out of his musings.
"Good." He leaned forward and returned his attention to the nondescript papers before him.
"What about you?" Cameron's voice was hushed and wary.
House looked up to see that the smile was gone—the distant glimmer of concern he thought he'd seen that morning was back and it made his stomach lurch in protest.
"There are rumors about me?" he quipped, falling back on his wry humor.
Cameron laughed softly and House felt his chest constrict slightly as that meek smile returned.
"Oh—so many it's impossible to keep track" she teased back.
House smirked at this—she could play his game if she wanted too, and he couldn't help but be vaguely impressed.
Cameron hesitated, her soulful eyes resting on his.
"Is everything alright?" she asked at last.
House had an uncanny way of burying his emotions—where any other person would falter and make their feelings known, House was so practiced that his expression remained unchanged. His eyes flickered over hers briefly before he looked away.
"Everything is pretty broad, don't you think?" he scoffed.
Cameron stood patiently, knowing full well the words forming on her tongue would go to waste—"It's just that you were in early, and you're still here, and we don't have a case—it's just a little… odd" she fumbled.
House shrugged a shoulder—"Odd works for me" he said simply.
"I like to keep you guys on your toes—next week, I might not come in at all!"
Cameron closed her eyes briefly—she exhaled slowly and fluttered her lashes open to find him studying her face from his seat across the room. She met his gaze and held it—"I'll see you tomorrow" she said softly before turning and exiting the silent office. House knit his brow and followed her retreating body with his eyes.
"And Then"...
Allison Cameron drifted through the glass doors of the conference room. She dropped her bag into an empty chair and removed her dark denim jacket in one fluid motion. Opening her closet, she withdrew her lab coat and hung the 'civilian wear' on the exposed hook. Closing the cabinet door, Cameron tossed the lab coat onto her chair across the room and turned her attentions to the coffee machine. Moments later, the soft, burbling sound of perking coffee met her ears.
Cameron turned and gazed out the wide expanse of window, down into the parking lot. Moving towards the glass she slid the latch over and pushed the window open. It was still early—not quite 7:45—and the sky was painted a warm, golden morning hue. Rose hints dusted the edges of the horizon as the sun quickly completed its ascent.
Cameron closed her eyes and reveled in the fresh morning breeze as it played across her bare shoulders, permeating the thin, woolen fabric of her sleeveless sweater: early August in Jersey, and it would undoubtedly be a hot one. The coffee machine gurgled loudly, announcing its' completion, summoning Cameron with a hiss of vapor. She dragged herself reluctantly from the still-open window and poured a steaming cup.
By the time Foreman and Chase entered 15 minutes later, Cameron was seated comfortably at the conference room table, mug in hand. She raised her ivy eyes from the pages of Diana Gabaldon as the sound of Chases' Aussie drawl shattered the solitude of the room.
"All I'm saying is—if she wasn't interested, she shouldn't have been wearing that".
Her colleagues entered the room, dropping articles of clothing and various bits of effluvia at the table. Foreman shrugged out of his jacket and hung it in his closet. He retrieved his lab coat and turned to face Chase as he slid one arm into the white coat; he rolled his dark eyes—"I want to say I'm disgusted to hear you say something so repulsive and blatantly sexist but, this is you we're talking about".
Foreman's face brightened as he acknowledged Cameron—"Hey—coffee smells great" he smiled.
Cameron smiled warmly in return and closed her book before depositing it into her bag. Chase stood to her right and scoffed loudly, still looking at Foreman. Cameron lifted a perfectly-sculpted brow in his direction and pursed her lips, fighting back an amused smirk—his ignorance was astonishing at times.
Chase shrugged off Foreman's cool response and dropped into the chair beside Cameron—"Any word on our case today?" he asked, turning in his seat to face her.
Cameron knit her brow faintly—"yes—they called me a t six to confirm" she thought dully.
"Um—no, not yet" she said dryly, taking a sip of her coffee.
Foreman joined them, seating himself across the table. He sipped his coffee, enjoying the rich, dark flavor. He looked up at Cameron, eyes seeking hers. He arched a brow in silent question and she smiled and nodded her answer. His face cleared with relief and he took another sip of coffee. Chase knit his brow, eyes flitting between his colleagues. He frowned at Foreman across the table, looking remarkably like a petulant child.
"What the hell was that?" he demanded sharply.
Foreman raised his brow, feigning ignorance—"What?"
Chase glanced at Cameron, who buried her grin in her own coffee cup, and his frown deepened. He swiveled on Foreman again—"You know bloody what I mean" he snapped.
Foreman pursed his lips and shrugged helplessly. Chase appeared flabbergasted—his mouth opened and closed as he looked between Cameron and Foreman, convinced they were systematically shutting him out. He huffed a loud breath of air and sat back heavily in his seat.
"Aw—poor baby" Houses' voice sliced through the sudden silence as he strode into the conference room. He stopped in the center of the room and leaned forward across the table towards Chase—"What's the matter—somebody run over your puppy?"
Chase frowned at his employer and remained silent. House turned towards the blank white-board and spoke—"So—we assume this kidney case is coming in sometime this afternoon. Until then, I'll be in Port Charles". He turned and entered his office, dropping heavily into the desk chair. He flipped through his iPod before settling on Frou Frou's 'Let Go'.
Foreman laughed, eyeing Chase across the table. Chase furrowed his brow and pushed himself upwards—"So what if I'm his favorite target?—I still have my job" he grumbled, exiting the conference room. Foreman laughed and rose to deposit his cup into the sink.
"So, you're feeling better then?" he turned to ask Cameron.
She smiled and sipped her own coffee—"I am, thanks—nothing like a nice hot bath to ease you".
Foreman smiled and nodded—"Good". He gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he passed—"I'll see you later"—and was gone. She smiled after him and finished her own coffee.
Cameron eased her way into Houses' office, pushing her back against the door—both hands full— all the while managing to enter with a careless grace that made him cease his pen-twirling to observe closely. She looked surprisingly at ease, compared to her flushed and almost agitated state yesterday. "Maybe Wilson did take her for that beer" he thought bitterly.
Cameron turned to him, coffee in one hand, and an imposing-looking collection of mail in the other. She smiled gently, her delicate mouth dipping upwards into a faint blossom of pleasure—"I love this song" she breathed softly.
House quickly silenced Rachel Yamagata's crooning 'I'll Find A Way' as Cameron set the coffee down on his desk and perched herself on the edge of the seat opposite him. House picked up the cup and cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair, attempting to affect an air of indifference.
Cameron set a stack of e-mails down before him: "You're going to say no" she began.
"Then why are you bothering?" he pestered, taking a sip of his coffee.
She paused for breath and continued, undaunted—"but the top one looked interesting so I thought I'd show it to you" she finished, gesturing to a printed invitation to a future conference on 'The Technological Future and Advancement of Diagnostic Medicine'.
House scoffed—"You know how I feel about technology—The Matrix scared the hell out of me".
Cameron pursed her lips, fighting a smile, and shrugged casually—"There's an open bar" she teased, "really it was that I thought might interest you".
House raised a brow—a smirk tugging at his handsome mouth. Dammit! Why did she keep doing that? Despite his best efforts, Cameron continued to surprise and, at times, impress him, and he couldn't risk letting her discover this fact. She looked up at him and cleared her throat softly before continuing awkwardly.
"Um—you have a teaching request…" she looked up through her lashes as House rolled his eyes back and stuck his tongue out, gagging loudly.
Cameron inhaled and tossed the envelope into the nearby trash can.
"Robertson from NYU sent some…" she paused, "um… fan mail".
House released a single, explosive laugh and leaned across the desk to snatch the folded paper from her slim hand.
"Fantastic!" he cheered, "I love these".
Cameron resisted the urge to roll her eyes and continued on.
"Michaels—also at NYU—wants a consult" she dropped the envelope onto his cluttered desk, "and I think you're being sued by a Mr. Raithe?" She looked up to see him scanning the letter from Robertson, an amused expression on his gruff features.
"I'm the disgrace" he said wryly—"yet you can't even come up with a convincing metaphor!" he scoffed at the letter in his hand.
House tossed the paper down and reached for the legal envelope as Cameron stood.
"Sued? Again?" he whined.
Cameron crossed her arms over her stomach and watched him. House shrugged and tossed the pending legal action aside, returning his attention to the less than glowing correspondence from NYU's Dr. Roberts. He waved the paper about—"I should really get a scrap book for these" he toyed.
Cameron arched a brow—the left corner of her mouth quirked upwards in an amused manner. House looked up and collided with her clover eyes. He blinked and dropped the paper back onto his desk. Cameron physically felt the sudden shift in energy and schooled her face to a convincingly blank masque.
"I'll let you know when I hear on the Jenkins case" she said, dropping her arms and turning towards the conference room door.
House knit his brow—"Jenkins?" he questioned.
Cameron pulled the glass door open, pausing at the threshold to turn toward him—"the kidney referral from yesterday" she explained.
House nodded emphatically—"Oh—yeah, yeah" he waved her off and turned to his iPod, flooding the room with U2 as the doorway closed silently behind Cameron.
A/N: Just a few notes, just in case:
- Port Charles is the city/town that General Hospital takes place in.
- I have no idea if there is a hospital at NYU --there likely is-- but this is a fiction and if FOX can creat Princeton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital in New Jersey, I can create an NYU Hospital.
- Frou Frou and Rachel Yamagata seemed like House-like, melancholicchoices to me. The later song may come up later in more detail (I'm currently debating between two songs to use in a later scene) but check them out :)
- Diana Gabaldon is my favorite author. She writes the Outlander series which is, as was once described to me very aptly, "food for the book lovers soul". She is an outstanding writer and her beautiful grasp of diction and rhetoric has influenced my own works. She seemed like an author Cameron might read.