Disclaimer: Still not mine.
A/N: Hello again. My apologies for the long update- been busy with work, school stuff, major migranes (going on two and a half months now, hooray) and really, I know how I want this particular fic to end, it's the stuff in between that's giving my some grief. This chapter is short, but, there was only so much I could put into it. Don't worry, the next one should be longer- if not longer, then at least it will be a response to this chapter's lack of angst, which will be House/Cam dialoge (well, that's the working plan, anyway).
So bear with me, I'll have more up soon. :)
Cameron adjusted the focus on the microscope and quickly raised her eyes from the lens in response to the sudden loud and rather insistent grumble of her stomach. She chuckled self-consciously into the silence and mentally catalogued her morning: awake at six; hour long run; shower; glass of orange juice and a banana; then work. Hmm… Not wanting a repeat of yesterday's migraine, Cameron closed her notebook and pushed away from the counter. She had been in the lab only an hour or so, but…
Dipping a hand into her pockets she discovered some seven dollars in change so she decided to leave her work for the time being. Cameron draped her lab coat over the metal chair and left the cool, silent laboratory.
The hospital cafeteria was bustling—a hive of patients, staff, and visitors relishing the brief opportunity to forget the fact that they were in a hospital and simply enjoy each other's company. Cameron smiled slightly at this as she set her tray down on the railing and leaned forward to select a packaged egg salad sandwich from the cooler. She moved slowly along the dining procession, selecting an apple juice and bran muffin, when a voice from behind startled her out of her reverie.
"So, he let you eat, huh?"
Cameron turned to face Stacey Warner, immaculate in an ivory pantsuit. Cameron blinked, recovering herself, and smiled.
"Occasionally the spirit moves him to allow us a few, small luxuries—food, water, sleep" she replied.
Stacey laughed softly and set a cranberry muffin on her tray alongside a bottle of water.
"Sounds like he's breaking a few child-labor laws". Stacey shook this thought firmly from her mind—she had no real reason to dislike Allison Cameron.
"I'm glad" she said simply.
Cameron moved along the line and reached into her pocket to pay. As Stacey poured herself a cup of coffee nearby, Cameron drew a slow breath. Fumbling with her change, Cameron turned to observe the crowded cafeteria. A man, perhaps forty, sat alone holding a full cup of coffee. He stared into the chattering sea before him and appeared not to register the life moving around him. Cameron knit her white brow slightly in understanding and remembered that not everyone in the hospital cafeteria came to forget.
Stacey paid for her meager meal and approached the young doctor slowly.
"Everything alright?" she inquired softly.
Cameron looked up swiftly and smiled again: "Crowded" she answered simply, "but I think there's one over here". Cameron tilted her head to the right in illustration. "Won't you join me?"
The attorney smiled warmly and followed Cameron to the nearby table.
"So, how do you like being back?" Cameron asked, absently tearing a small piece off her muffin.
Stacey unscrewed the lid on her water as she spoke: "It's nice. Good. It's…" she paused, raising the bottle halfway to her mouth. "It's weird" she said with a soft chuckle before brining the bottle to her lips.
She quirked a brow and shrugged a shoulder at Cameron as she drank. Cameron nodded and took a bite of her sandwich.
"Eight years" Stacey breathed softly, "is… a long time."
A distant smile played at her handsome mouth and Cameron paused in her chewing as she observed the older woman's trip down a long-forgotten memory. She swallowed and sipped her apple juice.
"It can be" she said at last, eyes lowering to her tray, "but… some things never change".
House had been sitting alone in the boisterous cafeteria for quite some time. Wilson's pager had long ago sounded, pulling him off into the dramatic and exiting world that was oncology. Brushing the stray icing crumbs form his shirtfront, House rose stiffly from the rickety metal chair and made his way slowly through the writhing masses and froze—Stacey.
Once again, House mentally kicked himself for agreeing to her employment there.
"But if you hadn't, what would that have said about you?" nagged a small, irritating voice.
"Oh would you shut up? I'm miserable enough as it is…" he answered the voice. House shook the internal conversation from his mind and stepped forward, pausing suddenly when he caught sight of Stacey's companion.
"Oh what the hell?" he grumbled aloud.
Stacey looked up from her tray, her eyes meeting his instantly across the crowded room. House lowered his head, setting his jaw in a firm line, and briskly left the cafeteria.