Flying solo
A.N. Cameron's taking a one-chapter break. Don't shoot me.
I had intended not to upload here until ff was fixed. It isn't fixed. But here I am anyway.
"I take it Charles got back in one piece? Nigeria, was it?". Cuddy and Oscar Townsend were walking along the corridor having just finished a meeting in Neurology. The department had pitched for a state-of-the-art internal imager and, as chief benefactor, Townsend needing signing off on it.
"Yeah, he did. Thanks again for organising that conference; very productive. But I think Sebastian is just happier out in the field".
"Mmm, I got that impression. Not everyone wants to wear a suit".
"You can say that again", he chuckled.
More by luck than design, their route would lead them past Diagnostics. Foreman had thrown himself into leadership with gusto. So much so that she wondered how he would manage returning to the ranks once House resumed at the hospital. She had sent him an email last week regarding possible start dates but had heard nothing back. Maybe she should just drop by after work and ask in-person.
Of course, she also wished to know the finer points of Cameron's actions Friday evening. The immunologist had confided little over text, saying only that 'things had gone well :)'. More data required. Cuddy disliked working at an information deficit on principle.
She glanced automatically through the glass, expecting to see Foreman and the fellows sitting around the conference table. And she did see that. Except House was there, too.
She stopped in her tracks.
"Sorry, do you mind if I make a pitstop…?".
Townsend followed her gaze. "Oh, Dr. House is back today? Fiona's been keeping me updated".
"Well, at least one of us is in the loop", she muttered, hand on the door.
"Anyway, I'll read through the paperwork from Stevens and get back to you". With a final nod, he made for the elevators as Cuddy entered.
"Cuddles!", exclaimed House, his arms stretched over his head. "This would've been a huge surprise except we, uh, saw you through the wall".
"I wasn't aware you were back so soon". Cuddy glanced at the scene: Foreman was standing by the board, marker in hand, and the other fellows were dispersed around the conference table. House himself was seated next to Hadley, who looked slightly bewildered. Chase, meanwhile, was smiling.
"I finished all the porn, so figured I'd drop by and see what's what. We're on a case. Though I'm still waiting to be assigned my task". He looked squarely at the neurologist, who exhaled through his nose.
"Actually, can I borrow you for a sec?", she asked.
House shrugged, getting to his feet. "May I be excused, Eric?".
"Sure. On your way back you can carry out a lumbar puncture so we can test our theory-".
"-I ordinarily relish sticking things into hot women—OK, that came out wrong. Or did it—but I can't in all good conscience do as you ask. Failed that portion of the MCAT. Don't tell Grandma House". With that he ambled over to Cuddy: "see you later, fellow diagnosticians".
They both left, the door swinging shut behind them.
"How's it going?". Cuddy patted him on the shoulder. Though they had seen each other plenty of times since the crash, she thought he looked remarkably healthy. The cane and limp had returned, of course, but apart from that he seemed different; lighter, somehow. As if a weight had lifted. Everything about his demeanour suggested happiness. He and Cameron had to beback together. There simply could be no other explanation.
"Yes, we are", he said as they stepped into the elevator.
"What's that?".
"Don't pretend like you don't know", he smirked. "You gave her the push".
"Yeah, well. Took you long enough, frankly".
House grunted, saying nothing further as they crossed the lobby, navigating the Monday morning crush. Only when they were both in her office, sitting in the easy chairs, did Cuddy resume the conversation. "I'm glad you're back, Dr. House".
"Thank you, Dr. Cuddy", he intoned in a mockingly formal voice.
"There's some paperwork we need to go through. I assume you got a chance to read my email? Two days a week with the option for more if you want".
"What d'you think of Foreman?". The nephrologist had taken up one of the cushions and started tapping a beat on it. But he still found time to fix her with his gaze.
"Are you actually asking my opinion?".
"Don't flatter yourself, sweetie. I'm asking everyone".
For the next twenty minutes the pair discussed Diagnostics. House had never been one for anything approaching a professional meeting, but he had been out of it for a few months, so clearly wanted to be fully caught up. When she had first insisted on him taking the full time off for rehab she had expected a degree of resistance and meddling from afar out of boredom. But he hadn't, barring the odd consult here or there. Instead, she had learned from Carter that he had devoted himself to his recovery and completed every exercise, week on week.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that Cameron must have contributed in some way to this newfound zeal to play his recovery by the book. As they spoke, her mind flitted inevitably to these two resuming their relationship. Cameron and House. Together again. Exciting times.
What had she and Wilson called them, that day in the cafeteria? Hameron.
"OK", mused House, jolting her back to their conversation. "Foreman'll be angling for a raise or something, won't he".
Cuddy shrugged. "I made it crystal clear to him that he was only a placeholder. He's done well, sure, but-".
"-there can be only one!". The sudden change in volume caused her to flinch slightly. "Highlander? No?".
"Not seen it. Anyway, I've got some papers from HR you'll need to sign". The Dean walked over to her desk and rooted around in her drawers for the documentation she had drawn up last week. But her hand, perhaps not so accidentally, brushed against a little box she had stored there over six months ago. With a little smile she retrieved it and placed it on the desk.
Having followed in her wake, House saw. "Can't marry you, sorry".
"Oh, it's not mine. It's yours".
He looked at the box before opening it up. Since he never bought jewellery he recognised it instantly. Sure enough, inscribed on the inside of the lid:
Hatton Garden. London.
"You kept it", he murmured redundantly.
"Of course".
House said nothing for a few moments, clearly lost in his own internal process. When he eventually looked up his eyes were far-off. Then, gradually, a smile touched his own lips. "Thanks", he said. "This actually means…a bit to me".
"Just make sure it ends up in the right hands. Around the right neck".
He nodded, slipping the thing carefully into his pocket before signing the papers.
Cuddy countersigned them. "Welcome back, House".
"Thanks, Miss Melons. You know, to mark the occasion, maybe I will do that lumbar puncture, after all", he replied, heading out of the door with a final salute.
Wilson called 'come in' with a twinge of annoyance. He had been on the point of heading to the cafeteria for lunch. Something he had noticed in the last few weeks, without House in his daily life prodding him to eat, was his propensity to put off regular meals or else take them sitting at his desk. So today he had designs on heading downstairs, maybe even grabbing a sandwich and sitting on the grass outside.
The door opened, but all he saw were the handles of a brown paper bag looped on a cane. The fire pattern gave it away.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in", grinned Wilson as his irritation evaporated. "Speak 'friend' and enter".
"'May-lon", came House's voice, and his face soon appeared. "We need more Lord of the Rings references. Just in general".
Though Wilson had no way of knowing so, his thoughts upon first seeing his best friend ran along virtually identical lines to Cuddy earlier: the nephrologist looked good. It was hard to define exactly, but even at first glance he just looked healthy, and the bronzed tinge to his skin, combined with one or two more lines at the corner of his eyes and mouth, gave him the air of a man who had been outside frequently and enjoyed it.
"I didn't know you were back today", said Wilson. "We grabbing lunch?".
"Actually, I brought it to you", replied House, retrieving the paper bag and holding it out.
"That's a rarity".
"I know. First day back only, though. Not a regular thing".
Wilson got up from his desk, the chair spinning slightly. "Let's eat outside. Enjoy the sun".
House nodded and, after watching his friend lock the office door, they both set off. Their discussion stayed in professional territory, House asking after the other's impression of Diagnostics. He answered much the same as Cuddy. Certainly, Foreman seemed to have done a good job, and Thirteen had apparently settled in well.
Exiting through the lobby, they walked round the side of the hospital to its many green open spaces. People were dotted here and there, walking, eating lunch, reading. PPTH was lucky to have these grounds, even if neither doctor took as much advantage of them as they would have liked. Once they found a patch of grass, overspread by a large sycamore maple tree, they started eating. And Wilson could ask the question that mattered.
"So…Cuddy mentioned something about Cameron wanting to start back up?".
House munched thoughtfully, feeling the sun on his face. Though he had plans at the weekend to keep Wilson guessing about their relationship, he suddenly decided, in a spirit of magnanimity, to be forthcoming: "we're back together".
The other smiled widely. "That's great, man. Happy for you".
"Yeah, well, still need to figure out exactly how it's going to go at work".
"Mmm". Wilson knew this well enough. After all, he had been the one who had unwittingly initiated the unravelling of Hameron last year with his investigations into mistakes in Diagnostics. His conclusion at the time was that happiness had impeded his friend's medical skill.
Hameron, he thought suddenly. God, I can't believe I invented that.
"Cameron coming back to the department, then?", he asked eventually.
"I actually don't know", admitted House. "Four fellows wouldn't be a problem".
"Guess it's up to her, hey?".
"Guess so".
Wilson looked closely at his friend. "But…? You think it might be hard to keep focused on the medicine with her around?".
"Nah, probably not". And this was the truth. Having now experienced life apart from the immunologist he was sufficiently self-aware to recognise that he couldn't go back to that. If it came to a straight shootout between his relationship and medicine, the former would, now, win. But, if he played it smartly, he could definitely imagine a situation where that shootout need not ever occur. Plus, with Cameron in his corner again, they would find a way through.
The reticence that Wilson had perceived did exist, however. Even if not in the way he had just expressed. House would speak to Cameron herself about this.
"Put that grey matter to work and devise a solution, eh?", chuckled Wilson.
House ripped the wrapper off a chocolate bar and changed the subject: "so, what's Amber like in the sack?".
"Yeah, no, not telling you that".
"The hell? We're best buds. What's a bit of locker room talk between two guys? It's only natural. Don't need the gory details. Broad bush-, I mean 'brush', is fine".
Wilson scowled, but his happiness at having his friend back where he belonged proved a powerful drug, and he took a huge bite of his sandwich, which turned out to be chicken mayonnaise.
"You've had lots of wives", ventured House eventually over the rim of his Coke can.
"Um, yeah. Thanks for bringing that up". The warm glow brought on by House's uncharacteristic burst of generosity in buying lunch began to dissipate.
"And you've lived with them all".
"Yessir. That is indeed a factually correct statement".
"I was thinking over the weekend-".
"-don't think too hard. Your brain might explode".
"Your brain might. May I talk now?", asked House archly.
"Please. Continue". The oncologist made a gesture with his hand.
"I was originally thinking to let the dust settle before asking Cameron if she wanted to m-".
"-arry you? Fuck, dude. I think she'd say 'yes' instantly. Do it. No regrets. There's no one else out there for you, trust me".
House blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing as he debated internally whether to punch Wilson in the balls. In the event, however, he gave him the benefit of the doubt and carried on, relatively seamlessly: "…to move in with me. But now I'm thinking I might just ask her now. What do you think? Do you think it's too soon?".
"Too soon to ask her to move in with you?".
"Yes", sighed House, beginning to regret broaching this subject.
Wilson gave him a weird look.
"What?". A raise of the eyebrows.
"You're such a moron, Greg".
"The hell's with the first-naming, James?".
The oncologist put his sandwich back onto the brown paper bag resting in the grass and brushed his hands of crumbs. Then he fixed the other with his eyes, which displayed amusement. "Let me get this straight: you're wondering whether to ask the woman who loves you so much that she chased you for years seeking a relationship; the woman who took special care to hang out with myself and Cuddy, your only friends, because she wanted us to get to know her; the woman who agreed to split because she understands how much you love medicine; the woman who stayed by your bedside day and night after your crash; the woman who agreed to, literally, sleep on your couch for four months and nurse you back to health; and the woman who—can you believe it—you've actually been living with already? And you're asking whether it's…too soon?". Wilson succumbed to another fit of the giggles.
A few moments lapsed. Only the indistinguishable sound of nearby conversations filtered to their picnic spot.
"Alright, you don't need to be a dick about it", sniffed House, suitably chastened.
"Holy Moses", chuckled Wilson. "Forget how Amber is in the sack. You must be Cassanova or something. Absolutely no other explanation for why Cameron still puts up with you". House scowled at this, so Wilson decided to elaborate: "look, in pretty much any other situation you might have a point. If you'd fallen out of love, broken up, left it a couple of years before getting back together, then I would say it could be too soon to think about moving in. But…she's basically living with you anyway, you always loved each other, and she makes you happy".
"She does. More than I feel I have any right to be". He had left mere satisfaction in the rear-view mirror a long time ago.
The oncologist's expression softened. "Then you have your answer".
House stayed quiet for a few moments while Wilson resumed his sandwich. Then he turned the subject to monster trucks. Within seconds they were lost in conversation, heads together, as Monday lunchtime at Princeton Plainsboro Hospital passed them by.