Lines on the Paper
Black ink threatened to drip from the nib of his pen as it hung over the dotted line.
Everything else had been filled in with meticulous detail; all i's dotted, all t's crossed.
All that was left to do was pen his name and hand it to Cuddy.
He could only imagine the look on her face on reading the form before him. A look of shock no doubt, then a look of scheming in that evil hospital administrator way of hers, before filling it while he was still in the room and as soon as he left, paging Wilson to gossip over him.
A high price, especially factoring the probable two months worth of torment from the oncologist as he would be usurped by the name that followed his on the form.
But he was sure it was worth it.
Not that he didn't trust Jimmy; he did implicitly. But with his life and limbs?
He had to admit that he'd done a fantastic job these past five years, bettering Stacy without much effort on his part. Not that his life and limbs had been in much peril during that time.
Getting shot came close, he supposed.
And the Ketamine was no doubt approved by him, giving him giving him a short break to normality before it wore off.
But even then, his eyes where connected with hers as he whispered his request. Her fingers at the wound at his neck and she nodded comfortingly as his will power dissipated and unconsciousness took him, content in the knowledge that Cameron would do as he asked.
He had no doubt there was an ensuing debate where she fought for his wishes, after having researched the treatment herself like the good little duckling she was, stating the pro's to the treatment and handing over the necessary data that swayed Wilson and Cuddy.
A regular protégée in the making.
Next thing you know she'd be just voicing the reasons before threatening to beat them with a cane.
She was his opposite and yet so much like him.
She killed a man today.
Not a decision she took lightly and not just a part of the job. But she did it anyway despite her morals and her previous indecision.
She followed the patient's wishes to the point where it was no longer professional.
A patient that she had a hatred for and yet she cried for him and cried for her for hours after the deed was done.
He knew it was hard for her but she did it. And with a grace and respect neither he nor Chase could hope to achieve in such a task.
She returned to the conference room 20 minutes after he'd left the chapel.
She looked tired and dreadfully disheartened but she was still Cameron. The caring, pretty and broken doctor he'd hired.
That was 6 hours ago.
He glanced at her through a wall of glass.
She was quiet at her desk, red mug in hand as her eyebrows knitted at confusion of something on her laptop.
His own eyebrows drew together as he looked down at his desk before bringing pen to paper.
Gregory House M.D. he penned.
No loopy G.
He blew lightly across the paper, until the ink looked dry.
He did not feel as if he was signing his life away to the devil. If anything, it was an angel he gave it to; and quite willingly so as she already had his heart. Folding the paper carefully he slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket before taking up his cane.
He leaned against the glass threshold between his office and the almost empty conference room.
"Take the rest of the day off." He said evenly to the floor, then glancing up at her tired hooded eyes. "You've hardly slept these last few days."
She considered him for a moment. And then gave the slightest nod her eyes still connected with his.
Replying with his own nod he headed out the room, following the familiar path to the Clinic and subsequently Cuddy's office.
She reacted as expected and he covered with his usual sarcastic tongue. He sighed as he stood outside the Clinic across from the nurses' desk.
The elevator dinged at the other end of the hall. He half expected to see Wilson step out, and tang of relief along with the usual swell of emotions shot through him as Cameron stepped into the lobby.
She looked little better than he'd last seen her, her small frame drowned by a large long coat.
She slowed when she saw him and came to a stop just out of arms reach. If she'd stood any closer he probably would have wrapped his arms around her at the sight of her eyes shining with thanks and gratitude for all that had passed.
"You're welcome." He said softly before she began to speak.
She ducked her head in response to his words.
"And thank you." He said even softer, so only she would hear.
Her eyes connected with his, filled with both curiosity and understanding.
"Now get on home." He said, his usual sarcasm not quite fully restored. "You've got to be up early to sort my mail."
She smiled wanly before moving past him, so close that he could smell the scent of her herbal shower gel. He watched her walk out the hospital and some way to the car park, a frown across his face to hide his concern. He noticed the spring in her step was dampened though still noticeably there.
Turning around he was faced with both Cuddy and Wilson wearing identical parental looking gazes.
Not knowing how much they heard or saw, nor caring for that matter he glanced at both of them then at the floor, before walking as dignified as a man with a cane can back to the elevators.
Turning in the metal box he saw their gazes where still fixed on his dejected form until the elevator doors closed.
Still worth it he thought as he thumped his head against wall, despite the probable six months of torment from Wilson now.
Just to have Allison Cameron as his medical proxy.
Little wierd I know. Kind of hitting all the bases and missing them at the same time, or at least that's what I think. What about you?
