Bringing chaos to order
Following a dinner of takeout pizza eaten in front of The Equalizer, House and Cameron were once again snuggling on the sofa. Although they had stuck to Coke for most of the day, House switched to beer for the pizza and Cameron was a third of the way through a bottle of wine she had no intention of finishing. Not just because after the Spanish bar a second consecutive night of drinking scarcely appealed, but also because she knew exactly how this evening was going to develop and didn't want her senses dulled in the slightest. She wanted to remember everything about this day and night, a long time in coming. Long enough.
Even though they were nestled close together she still took care not to place too much of her own weight on his limbs. Fully fit, of course, House could lift her easily, and she had always found him sexiest when he made no attempt to hide his physicality. As she never tired of acknowledging, the combination of his sharp intellect and rugged features made for a heady mixture. Right now, on this couch, her hand trailed over his chest, creasing the thin material of his pyjama top.
"Denzel must be, what, forty-something in that movie?", House grunted suddenly into his beer.
The question drew her attention away from the slow rise and fall of his breathing. "At least? Feels like he's been around for ages".
"Wonder if he did his own stunts. The fighting and stuff". House replaced his beer on the coffee table with a little difficulty since Cameron was laying on the outside of their embrace and made no attempt to move.
"Nah, no way. All those Hollywood people have guys for that".
"Tom Cruise does the stunts, though", he pointed out, glancing downwards to observe her blonde hair strewn all over. Given that they were still in their bedclothes with no plans to go outside, she hadn't bothered to tame it. House was thankful.
Cameron stirred and met his eyes. "That could be true", she conceded. "But if one actor is known for doing his own stunts then it sort of implies that it's not a normal thing to do. And so we can assume that Denzel has a guy".
"'We can assume'. You sound like a nerd".
"Right. What was the premise of Deus Ex again?", she asked casually, reaching up and tapping a finger on his chin. Deus Ex was a computer game they had played together a while back. Since their first joint session she had played it herself a couple of times and progressed a little way through the single-player campaign.
"You work for an anti-terrorist agency, fight terrorists, and the terrorists turn out not to be terrorists. Obviously".
"Uhuh".
A few moments passed in silence.
"Are you implying that I'm a nerd?", he asked eventually.
She could feel him angling down to look at her. "Nah. I would never do such a thing, my love".
House growled, though the term of endearment, which he hadn't heard for a few months, mollified him somewhat.
Indeed, reflecting momentarily on the time they would have together, he suddenly experienced a rush of euphoria. For some reason she had chosen him, enduring a limited quality of life for longer than anyone would wish. He had never understood why. The original theory, of course, was that she wished to fix him. But given any number of developments, not least the fact that things had heated up between them only after the ketamine treatment, that hypothesis had rapidly fallen by the wayside. During their relationship Cameron had shared snippets of explanations for her attraction, but her motives had always seemed flimsy, and he was resigned to general incomprehension in this aspect.
"I can tell you're pondering". She nudged him. "Was my 'my love' too soon?".
"No; just thinking about stuff".
"What stuff?".
Once again House looked down. This time she met his eye. "The truth?".
"Yes", she nodded. "Only if you want to share".
"I was thinking how much I'm looking forward to being with you again. And how lucky I am that you seem to want to be with me, even if I will never really understand why".
Cameron beamed. "I'm the lucky one, Greg, not you".
"And there we go again", he snorted. "Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately? Have you looked at me?". Even though she had given him some words this morning about self-love he still couldn't help himself.
The immunologist shimmied up his body and touched her forehead to his. This was a new gesture, one she had done for the first time after the contract signing. "I literally told you earlier what I loved about you. Are you fishing for compliments? Because I'll bite, you know".
"Go on, then", he smiled, kissing her softly. "I've not cured any rare diseases for ages so my ego needs polishing. Bite away".
"Oki doki, completely understandable. Where shall I start? Physical or non-physical?".
"Physical. My body is broken so I want to hear what you could possibly come up with".
"Let's see. You tan so easily in the sun that I get jealous. Everything about your skin is perfect: the frown lines...", she traced a finger along his forehead, "...and the cobwebs. Everything".
House drew lazy circles on her arm. "Sounds insane to me. Besides, the skin on my leg is completely screwed".
"That's your war wound, your uniform. A soldier in battle. I obviously know how much pain it causes you, and I don't mean to make light of that, but speaking from a purely aesthetic standpoint, I find it pretty sexy". Cameron would never have brought up his injuries herself, but since he had made the first move, she felt able to confess the truth to him. And the truth it was. His leg added to the impression of Byronic charm he cultivated with seemingly little effort.
House snorted but made no retort.
"This messy hair atop these devastating blue eyes". Now she ran the same finger down his nose. "I've told you so many times about these features".
"I guess". He remained still, content to let her roam his body. "What else?".
"Your sexy stubble? Easy. I literally said this when you called at my place the morning after our first day".
House casually noted how she dated these events from last year. Day one in her mind was their first proper kiss in the office, when she had come to him smoking on the balcony. It was probably 'day one' for him, too.
"Now what?". Very slowly she stirred, uncoiling herself languidly, kissing down his chin and neck. At the same time her hands travelled to the hem of his t-shirt. "Ah, yes. I remember. This broad chest. All that exercise you did last year", she whispered. Carefully and deliberately Cameron hiked up his shirt and trailed kisses from his sternum to his navel while her hands explored an area they knew intimately, prodding and testing the muscles as they flexed.
"You're going blind, Chicago", muttered House. "I'm soft now".
"Nu-uh. If you think this is soft, Dr. House, I fear you've lost...perspective". This final word she delivered with her lips still against his abdomen, hair fanned all around.
He couldn't help glancing downwards from his prone position. It was a provocative sight. "I am soft. But it makes no difference. I'll be fit again". He didn't care how long it took. Having experienced true freedom for many months, he would rediscover the feeling with a single-mindedness only an addict could muster.
"Yes, you will. And I'll help you". With a final peck of his belly, Cameron returned to the top end of the sofa so that their eyes were virtually level.
"Yeah? How're you planning to do that?".
"Oh, you know. Exercises", she smirked.
"Hmm". House exhaled softly, enjoying his girlfriend's weight for a few moments. "On that topic, actually", he continued at length, "Carter has floated the idea of doing some rehab in the swimming pool. To break up the monotony".
"A good idea", Cameron nodded. Anything that allowed House to combine his favourite hobby with his recovery was a no-brainer in her book.
"I was thinking that maybe you could join me? Not doing my rehab, obviously, but maybe just swimming in the adjacent lanes or something. It would help with my morale to see you. Only if you want to, obv-".
"-of course I want to. Would need to check my suit still fits, though. When were you thinking?".
"Evenings initially, though still waiting on days from Carter. She's in touch with Princeton about using one of their pools".
"Cool. Consider me signed up". The prospect of once again sharing exercise sessions made Cameron pathetically excited.
"Also", continued House, twirling her hair with the fingers of his right hand, "Cuddy has emailed me on the work front".
"I thought she might. She asked me during the week if you'd be open to returning". Cameron rested her head against his chest, though a hand remained under his t-shirt.
"What did you reply?".
"That I didn't know and that she should talk to you directly".
"Well, she did. Two days a week with room to up my hours if I feel like it".
Cameron sensed that he was about to add more so remained quiet.
"And I think I'm keen", he continued, right on cue. "Fact is I'm getting bored, and my rehab is going well. And you've started back at the hospital, too".
"Sure, but you shouldn't be influenced by what I'm doing".
House tugged her hair, forcing her eyes to his. "You'll always influence me, BB".
Her heart began beating faster, as if her body recognised how unexpected was this admission from him, the most stubborn man in all of New Jersey. She hid her heightened reaction with a smile. "Bet you say that to all the girls, huh?".
"I don't call my other girls 'Blonde Bombshell'", he replied, sticking his tongue out like a little boy. "Seriously, though. What do you think?".
The immunologist hauled herself up once again and ran a hand through her hair. "Honestly, I think it'd be great if you started back. Medicine is a huge part of your life and it's been on hold long enough. There's nothing stopping you from doing your two days alongside the rehab. I'd drive you there and back, no problems".
"No need for that. I can probably drive myself".
Cameron shrugged. "Whatever you want to do, Greg. Whether you wanna go back to work or take a bit more time, I'll support you. There are pros and cons either way".
"Hmm". House, who had been lying on the couch this whole time, reached for Cameron's hand, which she offered immediately. He entwined their fingers as he thought.
Outside the window night was beginning to fall. Car headlights cast intermittent and irregular shapes on the interior walls of Baker Street, whose rooms, lacking much artificial illumination, simmered in the subdued tones of a romantic late spring evening.
"What's your work situation at the moment?", asked House eventually.
"Fluid. Next week I'm down for four half-days in person and a bunch of remote hours. Technically I'm still caring for you so I have a lot of flexibility".
Caring for you. Both of them knew that this was a generous interpretation of a situation which had evolved considerably since the beginning of their arrangement. House no longer needed help day to day and he had been showering relatively freely for some time. In fact, he was probably as mobile, if not more so, than at any time with his cane in the years prior. But each of them, for similar reasons, sought to maintain the fiction that Cameron was still an on-site nurse.
"We could drive in together? See if we could get our hours to coincide?".
"Yeah, that should be possible", she nodded. The bubbling excitement she had felt earlier made another appearance. After the trauma of the bus crash and the struggle of recovery, things were beginning to return to normal, when they were together and working. And happy.
Almost dying changes nothing.
Except that there had been a change. For both of them the accident had forced a different perspective; had forced them to confront the simple truth that being together outweighed everything else. Of course, the practicalities still needed sorting out, but that was something best done in real time. There was no point formulating a detailed plan until things were a little more settled and House knew if he actually could work at the hospital again.
"Probably aim to head in Monday", he said.
"Really? That's fast".
House shrugged. "No use wasting time. Besides, it could be pretty funny seeing how Foreman reacts with no warning".
"Ahh", she laughed. "You know he's rearranged your office?".
The nephrologist tugged her close again. "Then I'll rearrange it back and show him who's boss".
"Yeah?", she replied, nuzzling her nose to his.
"Yeah...". For the first time in many months, House's hand did edge under the hem of Cameron's shorts, and he stroked the sensitive skin at her waist.
But she stilled his movements with her own hand and looked at him with mock sternness. "Sucks to be you, alas, because we can't have sex until I finish on the non-physical stuff I love about Gregory House. I was barely halfway through my list before you so rudely interrupted me".
"Not necessary. It'll just be boring crap about my brain, intelligence, and dry wit. Blah, blah". House attempted a kiss, which made it difficult for her to reply.
"Brain and intell-, intelligence", House's tongue momentarily stopped communication, "are the same th-", more tongue, "-ing. You're being annoy-pfmmh-ing". Cameron suddenly lost the will to resist and they made out for a minute, his hand successfully finding a home down the back of her shorts.
Long fingers got to work.
"House", she groaned. "Wait...wait, f-, fuck. It's not time...time for mine yet. I want you in my mouth first".
"Why? You don't need to". House nevertheless withdrew his fingers, which were already slick with her arousal.
"It's just something I've wanted to do since our first shower together", she breathed, cupping his cheeks.
"It's on your list?".
"It is. Entry number one. You can give me your full attention afterwards".
House tilted his head and regarded her curiously.
"What?", she prompted.
He held up his fingers. They were glistening. "You have serious willpower. All I'm gonna say, dude".
Once again Cameron laughed. "Think I'm just a slave to order. A list once made cannot be undone".
House looked down at himself and at the slightly messy living room which harboured a day's worth of takeout boxes, Coke cans, shattered champagne bottle, and sheathed sword. "You appreciate order, huh? And you like me?".
"I don't like you", she corrected. "I love you. Without chaos, order is completely meaningless. And you, Greg, are my meaning. You are my chaos".
A smile twitched House's lips as Cameron leapt to her feet and pulled him up in turn. She really could be quite persuasive.
"Let's go, you".
"Bedroom?", he wondered aloud.
"Nope. Bathroom. I'm going to shower with you. The proper way".
House did not require too much of his brain to figure out what his girlfriend meant. Better, perhaps, that he simply hang on for the ride.
