All of the things that I want to say
Just aren't coming out right
I'm tripping on words, you got my head spinning
I don't know where to go from here
Lifehouse – You and Me
Two.
He drove. Cameron sat in the passenger seat watching him. His eyes were concentrated on the road. The silence was unbearable, so Cameron took a chance and reached for the radio, pleasantly surprised to find a Norah Jones CD in the player.
"Only modern singer I can tolerate," House shared, then said no more.
After a few miles, Cameron began to recognize their route: they were headed to House's condo. As they pulled into the driveway, House turned off the ignition and opened the garage, but made no move to get out of the car. Finally, he pointed to the right side of the garage.
Too busy watching House to notice the motorcycle, Cameron was surprised. House got out and walked to the bike, Cameron following suit.
"Call it a mid-life crisis gift to myself. Or better yet, think of it as a reward."
"Reward for what?" She ran her hand appreciatively over the leather seat, before swiftly throwing her leg over and mounting the bike.
House had never been so turned on in his life.
He walked to her, unable to resist the temptation to mount the bike behind her, settling in with far less grace than she had, but nearly throwing Cameron off her balance as his hands came to rest comfortably on her thighs. Warmth spread through her, in and up and all over and she couldn't be sure if the feral sound she had felt in her core actually made it past her lips. It must have because House chuckled softly.
"Ever ride one of these before?" The double entendre couldn't have been more obvious and yet Cameron felt herself flush further.
She licked her lips. "Yeah. Been a while, though. Seems bigger than I remembered." She scooted herself so she was pressed tighter against House and he became enormously grateful he was wearing khakis and not constraining jeans.
Caught off guard by both her movements and the husky tone to her voice, House was stunned momentarily and tried to recover by clearing his throat. "Up," he said suddenly and squeezed her thighs. Surprised, she stood and stared at him. He gestured to a shelf in the corner where two helmets sat. "Grab those. Let's go."
She picked the helmets up off the shelf, but instead of handing House his, she plopped it on his head and bent down so she was eye to eye with him as she clasped the buckle. "You gonna let me drive?"
"Depends." Her blue eyes so close, bore into him, and he inhaled her sweet fragrance. "Have you been a good girl?"
Her grin was most definitely not a good girl grin. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
He grinned back. "On the bike." She straddled the bike behind him, pressing against his back as she wrapped her arms around him. "Hold on!" he yelled as the engine roared and he deftly maneuvered the bike into the night. Her arms tightened, but she hadn't needed any encouragement.
She was glad for her helmet, which hid from him her silent tears.
He drove to Kirby Park, a small recreational area next to Carnegie Lake that included walking paths, play areas, and benches by the water.
When House had parked the bike, Cameron quickly dismounted and removed her helmet, wiping at her cheeks under cover of fixing her wind-blown hair.
It was fully night now; the sky lit by half a moon – dark and light, good and evil.
She heard House dismount behind her, heard the click as his helmet buckle was released, the snaps as he released his cane from its customized holder. The park was empty, it being after ten, and Cameron felt in the cool dark as if every one of her senses were heightened.
Her eyes focused on the sky.
"Cameron?"
She turned and stared at him, emotions roiling. Her eyes slid off his to a spot behind. "Swing?"
"Not recently. And only if both couples are okay with it. Don't want any hurt feelings, you know."
A small smile was his reward. She walked away and House's eyes followed her as she headed to a swing set. She settled into the swing and began pumping her legs, flying higher and higher, hair trailing wildly behind her. House made his way to her, eyes never leaving her face. She seemed at once so young and so old. She looked like a child as she swung back and forth, the gentle moonlight softening her already smooth features. But her eyes, the expression on her face. House wasn't sure if he believed in souls, but at that moment, Cameron looked as if she was inhabited by a veteran soul. One that had barely survived what life had thrown its way.
What had happened to his Cameron? Perpetually perky, optimistic, seeing the best in everything. He realized over the last two years he had slowly been draining her of herself. He hated himself for it. He had wanted to save her from her naïvety, but for the first time was realizing that a woman who at 21 had become a widow couldn't be that naïve. Was this the real Cameron and the other an act?
Back and forth, she continued. House sat on the swing next to her and slowly rocked back and forth. Cameron's pace began to slow and eventually she came to a stop. She twisted in her swing to face him.
"Reward for what?"
House furrowed his brow. "Excuse me?"
"The bike. You said to think of it as a mid-life crisis gift. Or as a reward. A reward for what?"
House hedged, his mind paging through the book of appropriately snarky responses. The book, normally hundreds of pages thick with words, was nothing but blank paper. However, the book of truth, much thinner and far less worn, seemed readily available. He sighed.
"A reward for moving on." He began to push off with his left leg, getting enough movement so he could pump with both legs. His muscles screamed, but he continued. Cameron watched him glide, wondering when he would reach for his Vicodin. But he continued to swing. She was struck by the metaphor of the situation. She and House, both in motion, but never at the same time.
"Do you like me?"
"No."
"Why would you support someone who screws up?"
"Because I'm not insanely insecure, and because I can actually trust in another human being, and I am not an angry, misanthropic son of a bitch."
"What happened to 'Everybody lies'?"
"I lied."
House slowed to a stop, rubbing at his thigh. "Interesting concept, exercising the dead."
Cameron didn't respond, just rocked heel to toe as she stared out at the lake.
Unable to stand the silence any more, House blurted, "What do I have to do to get you to stay this time? I asked you on another date and you didn't even make me. You don't expect me to propose or anything do you?"
He looked so stricken at the thought Cameron almost laughed, before feeling incredibly depressed even though she hoped it was more the institution of marriage than the thought of her as his wife that House couldn't handle.
Softly. "I'm not so sure I want to be a doctor any more."
She had finally done it. For the first time in a very, very long time, House's mind went completely blank. Shock. Disbelief. Surprise.
When she had said she was leaving, he had settled on an allowance – a small breakdown of his exterior necessary to get her to stay. A kiss. He was planning to kiss her.
Fuck.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?