The last chapter! Sob! I'm so sentimetal about this fic... Sigh. Enjoy it, as I hope that you've enjoyed them all, then tell me how much you enjoyed it by giving me a review! I'll love you forever... I may even write a sequel... Maybe.
CHAPTER TEN – POO-BAH EXTROADINAIRE
"Hey," she said quietly. "May I come in? It's, ah… a little cold out here."
House wordlessly pulled the door open wider and went over to the piano, sitting down to face her. Cameron entered and closed the door behind her, putting her jacket over the back of his recliner.
"Sorta like déjà vu," she commented, attempting to ease the tension.
"Sorta. Are you planning to quit again?"
"No. Not unless you want me to."
He fished his Vicodin out of his pocket and popped one. "And why would I want that? Just because you stuffed up that MRI? Pfff, I've forgiven Chase for worse than that!"
Her eyes flashed. "I didn't stuff that up, Foreman did, I told you that! And you haven't forgiven Chase for anything; you keep bringing up that stupid angiogram from months ago!" She stopped abruptly and calmed herself, noticing that she was getting sucked into his game.
"So," he said, slamming his glass onto the top of the piano. "What brings you here? Wilson send you to check up on me, or did you come out of your own niceness?"
"I… we both agreed that one of us should come to see you."
"And you drew the short straw?"
"No. I insisted. I wanted to come."
"Well, wow, don't I feel special?"
"House, please. I'm trying to explain here, I just…"
"Fine. Explain away. I'm all ears."
She sighed. "How is it that you always manage to sound sarcastic?"
"Part of my charm."
"Yeah…" she perched on the edge of his footstool awkwardly and clasped her hands in her lap, clearing her throat. "Ahem… I'm sure you've noticed… I mean, you've heard, and you talked to Wilson… anyway, as you know, Wilson is staying at my house…"
"Are you here solely to tell me things I already know, or is there something new on the horizon somewhere?"
"House… Wilson and I… we like each other. And, we both care about you, and we don't—"
"Ohhhh, you and Wilson!" he exclaimed, fake-happily. "You're just tooo nice! Thinking of me right before you go and have sex! Really, I'm flattered."
"We're just concerned, because he's your best friend, and I'm… well, I'm close to you. Too. And the last thing we would want to do is hurt—"
"Hurt me? Please, Cameron, your private life has nothing to do with me, no matter how much I like to know what's going on in it. And Wilson? He's had so many girlfriends, I don't remember all of them. I don't even remember his wives' names." He got up to re-fill his glass, turning his back to her. He could feel another comment, something mean, bubbling up, ready to burst forth. He tried to push it down, but he couldn't help it, he had to just say it: "You'll probably just be another notch on his belt, anyhow."
He didn't have to turn around to see how hurt and angry she was as she got up and collected herself. "Right," she said crisply. "Fine. I'm glad we sorted that out. I'll see you at work."
He heard her walk over and open the door, and he sighed. "Wait." He turned back to her and saw that she had frozen at the door while it was still open. Putting down his drink, he limped to the door and shut it, standing in front of her.
"Do you still… like me?" he said softly, cringing internally, hating how vulnerable and, well, caring he sounded.
She refused to look up at him. "No," she whispered.
"I don't believe you."
"Believe what you want… Wilson's waiting in the car." She reached for the door handle again, but he shifted and stood in her way.
"So, what, he cooks you pasta extraordinaire, takes you out to fancy dinner and talks about his feelings and suddenly he's the new poo-bah?"
"He actually cares about me!"
He looked down at his shoes. "I care about you."
She softened a little. "I know. But… that's not enough for me. I need more. I deserve more."
He reached down and tilted her chin up, looking into her eyes. "I know."
Then, before he even really registered what he was doing, he leant down and planted a kiss on her lips. She instantly responded, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back, pushing her body into his, against the door. His leg yelped in protest but he ignored it. Now wasn't the time to pay attention to minor trivialities.
When he finally pulled away, he realised she was trembling. Trembling? What the hell for? And then he looked back into her eyes and saw happiness, a happiness he hadn't seen in her for months. And he had done that to her. Him. Maybe… maybe she really did love him…
"So," she mumbled, pulling on the collar of his t-shirt. "I guess you're still the poo-bah."
And that comment reminded them both of Wilson. Who was waiting faithfully outside, in the car. Who was the cause of their sudden awkwardness and guilt.
Cameron stepped back, shoving her hands in her pockets and biting her lip.
"Hmm…" House rubbed at his stubbled chin. "Problem."
"Um. Yeah. I just, um… I have to go."
This time, he stepped aside to let her through and closed the door after her.
He tilted his head, eyes focussing on her jacket, still over the back of his chair. "Huh."
So, that's the end... Cruel to leave you hanging, I know... but that's a perfect place to finish! He he! I love you all, my readers! Sayonara!
