Title: Succumb (17?)
Pairing: House/Cameron
Summary: We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.
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For the first time in years, Cameron actually felt like she was enjoying herself, and she didn't have to feel guilty about it.
She knew for her age she had experienced more turmoil than most people did in a lifetime, and it was nice to temporarily forget all of that, to lose herself in the moment and the superficial atmosphere around her.
Chase had uncovered some kind of half-bar, half-club, one that catered to the post-college crowd enough that they didn't feel out of place. She even recognized several faces from the hospital, and felt a permanent smile split her features as she danced with Foreman and Chase, and accepted their drink offers without too much protest. She let the appreciative glances boost her ego instead of dwelling on the consequences, and even let several guys hit on her before gently turning them down.
She was a little tipsy when the evening drew to a close, and allowed Foreman to drive her to Wilson's, assuring him that the oncologist could drive her and Brooklyn home. She felt like she had reasserted her position in the team, not merely as a doctor, but in their personal relationships as well. It was a relief to feel included again. To belong without trying to.
She waved to Foreman as he pulled out of Wilson's driveway, striding up to his front porch with a faint smile on her face.
The Wilsons owned a house in a pretty residential suburb in outer Princeton, and the tightly trimmed lawns and flawlessly ordered front yards only reaffirmed her view of Wilson as the epitome of stability. She brushed her long, loose hair out of her face, straightening her leather jacket as she heard shuffling footsteps.
"Hey," she greeted Wilson pleasantly, answering the door.
He smiled, but it appeared a little forced and she wondered what had changed in the last few hours. She couldn't imagine Brooklyn being that difficult. "Cameron, hey. Uh, come on in."
She followed him inside, and he closed the door behind her, hovering uncomfortably. She frowned at him. "Was Brooklyn… okay? Did she behave?"
"Oh, yeah, she was fine. I'm fairly sure Julie wants to adopt her now."
She smiled, relaxing a little at his amiable tone. Until they rounded the corner for the living room.
House was sprawled on the sofa with the familiarity of someone intimately acquainted with the room. He lifted his eyes impassively from the television as she entered, and acknowledged her vaguely. "Cameron."
Cameron spared a disbelieving glance at Wilson, who shrugged back at her awkwardly. Judging by his evasive behaviour, this obviously hadn't been pre-planned. Just as well. She was sure she would never have accepted any friendly offers from the oncologist again otherwise.
"Uh, Julie put Brooklyn down in the guest room," he offered haltingly. "She fell asleep in front of the TV."
"Julie wouldn't even let me watch Xena while she was here," House piped up indifferently. "Women."
"I'm sure Allison wouldn't have appreciated it," Julie's soft, cultured voice sounded behind her.
She turned to find the blonde smiling at her lightly. She was uncertain how she felt about Julie Wilson. She was extremely pretty, and possessed a brisk manner that shifted to softness with startling ease. She could see what might have attracted Wilson to her, but she could also see that the rumours regarding their rocky marriage were well founded. They seemed uncomfortable, like the excitement of their courtship had passed and domesticity didn't suit them. She sensed Julie was extremely career driven and wondered if motherhood was really a desire, or a requirement.
Cameron didn't respond, sensing the undercurrent of hostility and resignation between House and Julie. They obviously tolerated each other, and seemed to have developed a sort of forced civility she didn't think she had seen him attempt with anyone else. If it was purely for Wilson's benefit, she had a newfound respect for their friendship.
"She went to sleep about an hour ago," Julie explained. "Do you want me to go and get her?"
"Thank you," Cameron agreed softly.
Julie nodded, disappearing gracefully down the hall. Cameron glanced at Wilson again, who gestured uneasily at the sofa. She sighed, carefully taking the single armchair flanking the couch. House barely looked at her, attention seemingly riveted to the baseball game playing out on the TV. She wondered exactly how long he had been there.
Wilson heaved a deep sigh himself, sensing there was nothing he could do to break the tense silence. He slumped on the sofa beside House, effectively placing himself between them.
"So, did you have a good time?" he inquired, shifting his eyes over her rather than the television.
Cameron smiled slightly, allowing herself to distractedly scan the room as the muted light flickered over it. Perfect blue and white furniture, cream walls and priceless ornaments arranged with precision and care. Not exactly child friendly.
"I did. I don't get to go out much anymore. Chase picked a good place. I think he mentioned an old girlfriend introduced him to it. There were a lot of people from the hospital there."
"Oh, really?" he said politely. "Where was it?"
"Do you really need to scour for new pick-up spots, Jimmy?" House remarked casually beside him. "I thought you knew all the good ones already."
Wilson scowled, shooting him a warning look. Cameron was surprised he would allude to Wilson's infidelities with Julie so close by. Though she was uncertain as to the accuracy behind them, there was no denying Wilson had developed a certain reputation at PPTH.
"Uh, Alchemist and Barrister," she answered warily. "It's off Witherspoon Street."
Before House could offer another comment on the matter, Julie re-emerged from the dim hallway, carrying a sleeping Brooklyn in her arms. "I'm sorry she's so tired," she said apologetically. She shot House a pointed look, fuelled by exasperation. "Greg kept her awake half the night with my nephew's 'Operation' set."
Cameron's gaze ticked over in House's direction. So he obviously hadn't been watching TV all evening, and had spent most of it playing with Brooklyn – obviously to Julie's chagrin. Wilson's head was conveniently blocking his face, but she couldn't help the surprise that coloured her features. "Oh, uh well, that's okay. It just means she'll sleep in tomorrow."
She rose to her feet, and Wilson stood up too, once again uncertain as to his position between his best friend and the woman he was undoubtably still interested in. "Do you need a ride home? I saw Foreman drop you off."
She nodded gratefully, caught dwelling on House's continually unexplainable behaviour. "Uh, yeah. If it's not too much trouble."
House peeled his eyes away from the television, finally making himself known to the conversation. "I can take her," he announced unexpectedly, swivelling his cane in front of him and boosting himself to his feet. Wilson cocked an eyebrow at him, and Julie frowned slightly. House pretended not to notice. "I should get going anyway."
Cameron accepted Brooklyn mutely from Julie's arms, cradling her to her chest before glancing at House tentatively. "Uh, thanks."
He shrugged, retrieving his jacket from the coat rack near the door.
"Thank you so much for watching Brooklyn tonight," Cameron said earnestly, turning to Wilson's wife. "I really appreciate it."
"Oh, she was no trouble at all," Julie replied, offering her another perfect smile. "We'd be happy to watch her again, wouldn't we, James?"
Wilson blinked, nodding quickly. "Uh, o-of course," he stammered. Cameron didn't know whether to be dismayed or amused by his subservience to the woman.
He turned his attention to House, who was waiting impatiently at Cameron's side, obviously eager to leave their company. "Drive carefully," he cautioned flatly, an unmistakably pointed look carrying the statement.
Julie narrowed her eyes as a thought occurred to her. "And please don't run over my roses again, House."
House rolled his eyes. "Oh, that was an accident," he protested dryly, carelessly holding the door open for Cameron. "I thought one of them was your ugly garden knome. They're bad Feng Shui, you know. I was doing you a favour."
Julie scowled at him. Wilson cleared his throat. "Goodnight."
The door closed abruptly behind them, probably to avoid a last minute barb on House's behalf. Cameron lifted a doubtful eyebrow at House, amazed by their unusual dynamic, before following him slowly down the front path.
"Are you… always like that with her?"
He scoffed, stepping pointedly over Julie's garden on his way to his parked Corvette. She was surprised she had missed it before, cloaked by the overhanging oak trees next door. "She thinks I'm a bad influence on her impressionable little Jimmy."
She had to smile, shifting Brooklyn's weight against her hip. His presence had caught her off guard, and the familiar awkwardness had settled in the air between them. Despite asking her back to work, their conversations had remained stilted and uncomfortable, and she was surprised he was willingly offering to spend more than five minutes alone with her.
"So. What did you think?"
She glanced at him, shivering as the crisp night air cut through the neck of her blouse. Brooklyn's tiny frame warmed her slightly, and she clung to her with extra vigour. "Of Julie?"
"Well, the elusive Wilson is a hard one to pin down, but..."
Cameron sighed deeply. "She was… nice," she offered concisely.
House spared a backward glance at her, retrieving his keys from his pocket. "Of course you would say that," he said condescendingly.
Cameron frowned. "Fine. She was a little… shallow," she admitted reluctantly. "Not really the person I imagined Wilson to be married to."
House smirked, highly satisfied by his ability to manipulate her. "Was that a judgemental comment, Dr. Cameron? I think I need to record this moment."
She rolled her eyes, finding herself particularly annoyed with his scorn. Probably because she hadn't expected to have to face it until Monday. "I judge you all the time," she snapped curtly.
He scoffed in agreement. "Well, I can't argue with that."
They came to a halt in front of his car, and she stared up at him uncomfortably. "Look, I already told you I was sorry about the other night."
He blinked at her with exaggerated slowness. "Right. Are we having the same conversation here? I could have sworn we were just criticising Wilson's marital choices…"
Cameron shifted. "Are you just going to pretend that it never happened?"
"Are you really sure you want to have this conversation over Julie Wilson's rose patch?" House retorted.
Cameron relented, looking away. Cool silence enveloped them. "Can we put Brooklyn in the back seat?" she finally asked quietly. "She's cold."
House glanced at her daughter, expression softening slightly before he turned towards the car. He unlocked the driver's side, frowning as he glanced in at the back seat. The Corvette was a two-door car, and access was going to be difficult. "You're probably going to have to climb back there," he advised.
Cameron frowned at him uncomprehendingly, and he inwardly sighed. Why did she always have to make things so difficult?
"Why?"
He gestured pointedly. "Well, unless your arms have rubber band elasticity you're gonna have trouble putting her back there."
Cameron continued to frown at him, eyeing his car uncertainly. He knew he was a jerk, but did she really think he was going to shove her in headfirst or something?
Finally, she sighed, shifting forward. "Fine. Uh…"
She glanced down at Brooklyn, then at him. House dramatically rolled his eyes, tossing his cane over the front seat before he held out his arms. "Gimme."
Brooklyn's diminutive form was as limp as a rag doll, and Cameron was forced to brush up against him in order to pass her over. The warm softness of her frame briefly enveloped him, assailing him with her sweet fragrance, mingled faintly with the bar smells of smoke and alcohol. Her wide green eyes drifted up to his for a split moment, and he swallowed at their familiar intense pull. As if she sensed it too, she stepped back again, and he blinked, fixing his attention firmly down on Brooklyn.
She nestled against him in sleep almost immediately, and he ignored the faint, constant pain coursing down his leg. There was something even he could admit he enjoyed, in the soft, rare closeness of a child. Cameron's child. Her added weight barely affected the pain in his leg, but standing without his cane always hurt a little bit more, and he carried her carefully on one side.
Cameron slid the front seat forward to climb in the back, and she flicked her mane of brown hair over one shoulder before turning to face him expectantly. It was hard not to notice that she wore a little extra make-up than normal, and beneath her casual leather jacket she wore a tight fitting red blouse that accentuated her slender figure. She was far more beautiful than any woman in their pretentious profession deserved to be.
He lifted his calloused palm to cradle the back of Brooklyn's head as he inched forward, wincing as his leg brushed the front seat. With a little manoeuvring, he managed to pass her to Cameron, and their hands brushed one more time before he released her.
He ran a hand over his beard, looking out at Wilson's front yard as Cameron tenderly placed Brooklyn down on the back seat. An odd feeling went through him at the utter domesticity of the act. The Corvette was a magnetic red symbol of his bachelordom if there ever was one, yet Cameron and Brooklyn had managed to destroy that in one moment. What annoyed him the most was that he didn't mind.
Cameron reached up to her shoulders to remove her jacket, and he could guess what kind of flimsy crap she had on underneath. To spare her the cold, or maybe just his own sanity, he shrugged off his jacket and briskly held it back to her. "Here."
Cameron blinked at him, surprised, and he had to look away again to avoid her gratitude. As if sensing his discomfort, she didn't mention it, folding the suede material and placing it gently under Brooklyn's head, before climbing back into the front seat.
He drew in another sigh, sliding into the driver's seat and shutting the door behind him. The top was up and the space between them felt even more constrained, and he shrugged off the intimacy of the moment before starting the ignition, and steering out into the street.
It was going to be a long night.
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