Cleaning Day
Allison Cameron crashed your world covering your mind and soul in her enchanting pixie dust. (You do not tell her this). You did not expect this (ever). Especially from such a small, soft creature against your thick and callused nature. You never ever expected such a piercing. This is stronger than before. It scares you. Often you try to run from it, hide from it or hurt it (do anything but hurt from it). And you know it's not her fault. You hate yourself for what you do.
You watch her from your glass surroundings, her slim shoulders straight and strong from your latest barbs. You refuse to be soft on her, you are often harder, you test her, you try to weaken her before she weakens you (more). She never complains. She never brings it home with her. You wonder why she comes with you at all sometimes.
She is an angel on your doorstep that you don't deserve. She shelters you at night. She has held you away from nightmares in your sleep, but now you have more fear in your awakened state. Your walls are different now. They have an automatic weapon defense system. She seems to have the blue prints for it and is able to get around land mines and torpedoes that you throw at her unscathed. You don't deserve her - especially after the last few months, hence the deeper hatred of yourself recently.
Stacey's reappearance into your life created a wake in your waters that you were not prepared for: it had always been a no wake zone. Having Cameron, though soothing, was keeping you on your toes. You have found yourself dealing with issues of anger, trust, closure and love that you have never dealt with in the past. Unknowingly, Cameron seems to understand all this with her quiet nods and unassuming presence. She knows you will do what you will do, because you always do everything on your own terms. It's what makes you a selfish bastard.
Stacey tempts more than just fate and you are wooed by memories of her. You are confused and feel conflicted by time, not about your feelings for Cameron, who you have wrongly pushed to the side. You feel stuck in a time warp. Allison is aware of some of your games, but not to their deepest extent. You know you are hurting her. You know she isn't aware of all your treachery, she trusts you and she understands (more than you) what you need to do and figure out. Hopefully you do. And hopefully she'll forgive you. She does.
You wish you could be more normal in your everyday life with her. That you weren't so quick to push her out of bed because of your paranoia. Because normally, you love waking up with her in your arms, her hair spread across your chest and pillows. You love the proximity of her in your apartment, the need you feel for her every time she is close to you - not just an animalistic need - but your need to reach out and touch and feel her – to swallow her whole - maybe it could finally make you whole.
&
You remember how scared you are when you first meet Allison Cameron. Small, beautiful, sincere and smart. You see something behind her eyes that you can't figure out, layers of scars like a long lived life, something you don't often see on a young woman her age. She becomes an enigma to you, something you don't understand, that you must figure out.
She thinks she's a game to you. That's part truth, part lie. The lie is the part you are hiding behind, because you are scared that you are more than just intrigued with her. Every time you talk with her you feel more connected, you feel that she 'gets' you, you feel like you 'fit together.' Horribly romantic things, you never thought would ever cross your mind, and you pretend that you don't really think these things.
She's not working for you long, when you really instigate the flirting. She, of course, calls you out on everything. And you lie, lie, lie. You have no feelings. You don't like her. You stomp all over her emotional being.
When she quits, she breaks you. You never thought you could break again this easily. You were stunned by her absence and realize that you need her to be around. You keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself, but Wilson is constantly challenging you about your life and how you live it and how you feel. You hate him for putting ideas in you head - especially ones that you have been trying to forget and evade. He calls you out when he realizes Cameron has gotten to you.
You hate that she bribes you into a date and tells everyone about it. She broke what you considered a secret bond between you two. You make her pay for it over dinner. You are impressed by her strength as she can somehow sit with a straight back and a dry face for the remainder of the dinner. She is pleasant to you at work, yet remains distant. You hate yourself for what you have done.
You immediately start apologizing in your own way, moving slowly like a turtle across a street, knowing that you could be smashed at any moment, or survive to the other side. She doesn't talk to you anywhere except at the hospital for weeks. When she realizes what you are doing, she turns your game around on you. This just intrigues you more. You are still afraid, and glad to have your turtle shell with its unusual pointy spikes.
She brings constant surprise to your life. You quietly and secretly start enjoying yourself for the first time in years. She shocks you the first time you have sex together, when she comes over and pretty much tells you to stop talking and just assaults you. You liked it. No, you loved it. You keep your sunshine to yourself. You find yourself listening to Springsteen one day, and just because you live in Jersey, you refuse to yell out "the Boss lives" or crap like that, but somehow it just stumbled into your mind . . .
So you've been broken and you've been hurt
Show me somebody who ain't
Yeah, I know I ain't nobody's bargain
But, hell, a little touchup
and a little paint . . .
You might need somethin' to hold on to
When all the answers, they don't amount to much
Somebody that you could just to talk to
And a little of that Human Touch
Baby, in a world without pity
Do you think what I'm askin's too much
I just want to feel you in my arms
Share a little of that Human Touch
Feel a little of that Human Touch
Give me a little of that Human Touch
...and now you know you're pathetic. Now you're humming it in your mind all the time. But you're just feeling better. And you suck because you realize you too have a theme song. But you know that you're starting to have trouble hiding; and hiding your feelings that you usually keep hidden away somewhere safe.
Your favorite time to spend with Allison is Sunday mornings. For some reason, they're just more lazy. And you just like lazy. There is less rushing around, less errands, less of everything, and more time together. It's the time during the week where you can wake up before her and watch the sun stream over her sleeping form, kissing her face, her feet still reaching out to touch you. You like to try to get up to make coffee and breakfast for her. She makes enough coffee during the week. You should do something for her. Sometimes, while you're getting breakfast ready she'll go out for a quick run and pick up fresh blueberry muffins from the baker around the corner. Then you'll spend the rest of the day, snuggled together drinking coffee, reading the newspaper, talking and making love. These are your secrets (you don't want to share them with anyone).
You rarely go to her place anymore. She spends most of her time at your apartment. You have given her a spare key to get in, but she is not living here. She has a few items around the place: a toothbrush, some toiletries, a pair of pajamas, a book or two, and some clothes. Other than that, it remains your home one hundred percent. She hasn't asked, and you just don't know if you're ready for the moving-in part, although it's been almost a year. (You're a coward.)
After your crap with Stacey, things are a little strained. Not that you're surprised. Allison spends a weekend at her own apartment. You don't blame her really. You know she doesn't want to hear your garbage. She only wants to see and understand your actions. You realize how weak you are. You go see her Sunday, to take her to brunch, she's not there. Perhaps you should have called.
At work, you ask her into your office. (You despise that you can do this.) You ask her if she'll come over tonight.
She raises an eyebrow and looks at you, arms crossed in front of her in defense. "Oh, do you think you're ready to deal with me again?"
(Ouch). You can't respond to her. You hope your eyes are telling her something.
They are. She sighs and drops her posture. "Fine, I'll stop by. But I'm not staying."
She stays. It's not that she doesn't have a backbone (she's stronger than you), but you both missed each other more than you are willing to admit. You spend time fighting, there are hot tears, and lots of make-up sex, more talking in bed, and more hot tears and more fighting. In the end, there is just holding and caressing. She tells you it's not over yet. You're not sure what she means; you're hoping you'll figure it out soon, but you've often been dense about these things.
You told her the truth. She didn't like it, but she was glad about your honesty (and shocked by it). You are ashamed of yourself when you watch her face drop when you tell her that you and Stacey kissed, when you explain you wanted to be certain that spark was out of your heart and being. You tell her you needed (for her to understand) to let go of your anger about your leg and your heart. You needed to be sure Stacey was really out of your heart, because it ended in such a bad way you were never really sure. Because you had shared a special relationship with Stacey, you'll always care for her, and you are sure Allison, being Allison, will understand that. What you needed to understand was that the relationship ended before its time, it's just the leg got in the way. Old scar tissue causing more pain, taking away from your new focus: Allison.
You two stayed up all night. You went to work late. You gave her the day off. She needed it. And even though it mixes business and pleasure, you owe it to her for the emotional rollercoaster you put her on. You are beginning to see how she shelters you, how loved you are.
It was a good thing you got so little sleep and looked like crap the next day, because on the inside you were glowing. You really didn't want the whole hospital gossiping that you were 'aglow' and 'did everyone see Dr. House smile today?' crap going around. Hell would break loose. Besides, you are still struggling with admitting to yourself that you might be falling in love too.
&
It's getting warm out, starting to feel like summer. You start alternating between taking the Corvette and taking the bike. Either way, you feel the sun on your face, you wear your sunglasses, you feel the breeze in your hair and you feel cool. It makes you feel young again too. The days are getting longer, and because the day has been quiet, when you leave work today the sun is still out.
You are looking forward to going home. You know Cameron will be there. You are starting to tire of this hiding game at work that you two are playing. Though when you are bored, you have taken to having fantasies about places you two could go have sex without getting caught. Your list is getting quite long. You're thinking now, with the weather getting very hot, the roof might become real appealing soon. Or it could really annoy Cuddy if someone left empty condom packets in her office.
You open the front door and expect to be greeted by the smell of food cooking. No food. Cameron?
"In the bedroom!"
Alright! You think to yourself. You ditch your shoes and your bag at the door, and start to unbutton your shirt as you walk down the hall.
You enter the bedroom expecting to find a scantily clad Allison sprawled on the bed. You are highly disappointed. Instead, you find Allison in her sweats on top of the bed with the local paper. "Hi," she says and gets up and gives you a quick peck on the mouth.
You ask her what she's doing, as you lie on the bed next to her, putting your head on the pillow next to her and your hand on her belly.
"Just looking at some vacation info."
Vacation info? What for?
"I was thinking maybe we could take a vacation?"
Take a vacation?
"Yes, a vacation. A break."
No, no vacation. You're rubbing her belly a bit, maybe it will put her in the mood, or even a better mood.
"What do you mean no vacation?"
You tell her you don't do vacation.
She looks at you like you have eight heads. "Are you kidding me? Since when?"
Ever.
"You're a liar."
You tell her you don't lie.
She pulls away from your hand and sits up a bit, she laughing a bit. "You know, I think I came across a photo album once in this place of you and Stacey in St. Thomas. That looked like vacation to me!"
Was she snooping through your things?
"No! In fact, I mentioned it to you when I found it because I was shocked you that had any photos around here. You flippantly said, oh yeah, some old photos I keep meaning to throw in the fireplace. But you had some family in there you wanted to keep, so you asked me to put it back on the shelf."
Well, impatiently, you tell her you don't go on vacation any more. You don't take time off.
"Oh, so it was okay when it was Stacey?" (Now you can tell she's annoyed.)
Hey, that's not fair, and that's not what it's about, you tell her, trying not to bring up the obvious. Though, you wonder if Stacey is part of the problem . . . still.
"You know, maybe Stacey is still the problem!" She almost shrieks at you. "There are remnants of her everywhere still. In your closet, in your medicine cabinet, on your body, in your mind. We can't even take a goddamn vacation without the memory of her sprinkled in somewhere, tainting it. Do you have a life yet without her?"
You ask Cameron what in God's name is she talking about. You thought she just wanted some days off!
"Well, Greg," she begins, "I am in desperate need of some vacation time and I plan on taking some. I plan on getting away and relaxing a bit."
So, go ahead you tell her.
"Fine, I will," she tells you, as she marches off to the bathroom and slams the door.
You eat a very quiet dinner that night. You're annoyed. You wanted some 'special' time with Cameron tonight. You didn't want to think about going on vacation. Or Stacey. You hate other people, you hate traveling, and now your current girlfriend is comparing what you did with your previous girlfriend. Fucking great.
&
The next two weeks, the subject doesn't come up again. Cameron is distant, forcing her smiles. You hate it. She's spending more time at her apartment. You hate going there. One night, you submit and spend the night there. You can barely sleep that night and are a bigger bastard than normal the next day. You blame it on her.
A week letter, she hands you a form. You ask her what it is.
"A vacation request form."
You tell her it's denied.
"You didn't even look at it."
You tell her you don't have to, you're not granting it.
She starts boiling, her face is all red. She picks the form off the desk. "You have no right to deny my vacations days. I am owed four weeks, I am planning on taking two whether you like it or not."
Oh really?
"Yes, really," she smirks back at you. "Funny thing about HR is, I don't have to give you my vacation request form for approval. I can go directly through the Dean of Medicines, who I CC'd on this, and is receiving it as we speak. I don't think she'll be denying it. I thought I would discuss this with you first, you know, just as a courtesy."
You laugh. That is funny, you tell her.
"And the other funny thing is . . . you wanna know?" she asks.
You nod in anticipation.
"I can take my vacation right away, I don't have to give more than a day's notice if no one else in our department is on vacation at the time!" She smiles big and large at you.
You know she's going to drop something on you, and you know you're not going to like it.
"So, I'll be taking two weeks vacation starting Monday."
You tell her you want to talk to Cuddy first.
She tells you to call her. And winks to you. She tells you that your phone call will be a big 'alert' call to her.
You are furious at Allison. You ask her why she is doing this.
She puts her hands on your desk and leans forward toward you, speaking in a clipped manner. "Because I'm tired of living in a shell. I'm tired of playing these games. I never asked you for anything, I've never asked you to change or be someone you're not, but I need a little normalcy. I can't hide anymore. If you can't deal with that, then you can't."
She stands straight again. "And then, we'll see. We'll see if this relationship means a thing to you."
She looks at the clock, looks at the conference room, looks at you. "Oh, well, it's five o'clock. I've got to finish packing so I can get the hell out of dodge." She pauses. "I love you. I'll leave you a note where I'll be."
She walks out the door into the conference room. She doesn't close the door between the two rooms. Chase and Foreman are sitting at the table.
"Hey guys, I'm on vacation starting Monday for the next two weeks."
They look up at her with sudden surprise.
As she quickly packing her bag and heading out the door, she throws them another surprise. "Oh, and yeah, House and I have been seeing each other, and have been for quite some time. If either of you have a problem with that, see Cuddy. I think you can see that he's equally hard, if not harder, on me. Bye. See you in two weeks."
&
When you get home that night, you find on your kitchen table a map, directions and a letter. She tells you she rented a cottage down the Jersey shore for two weeks. If you want to reach her, you have her cell phone. If you want to come by, you have the directions. The ball is in your court. It's your mess to clean up now.
end part 2