Secret admirer
A.N. I need to apologise for the delay in continuing this story and offer an explanation. A couple of months ago I read a book and it affected me so much I jumped into its fandom, and that has consumed pretty much all of my fanfic writing time since. It's a relationship similar to Hameron, the fandom is 'live', and, not to beat about the bush, I get a lot of engagement, so it's something of a gratification loop. Compounding this issue, stats have not worked for months (zero views) and, combined with the much slower pace of the House fandom, it meant that I put Confessions on the backburner a bit. I do mainly write for myself, but I am only human, so I focused on the story with the stronger engagement.
Moving forwards, I will try and maintain both of my stories simultaneously. I know and appreciate how fun Confessions has been to those of you kind enough to show support and I hope it will continue to be so. It just has a sibling now.
This story is not abandoned, will never be abandoned, and I still enjoy it. I've just been temporarily sidetracked.
The next morning Cameron's alarm did not even have time to blare as she had awakened fifteen minutes early by chance and surreptitiously turned it off. House was not due in today, so she would drive in alone for her shift in the ER. She rolled over and gazed at him, observing his sleeping face as she had always liked to do. Wilson had caught up with her yesterday and remarked how content House looked. But she herself noticed no difference, other than the fact that he seemed readier to smile, and was increasingly playful. On the surface, though, he looked the same. 'Rugged' was usually a hard quality to define, but it fit him perfectly, she thought.
She experienced a sudden urge to stroke his brow, or touch him in some way, but he was still sleeping and she didn't want to disturb that. His body still needed all the healing time it could get. Having spent a couple of moments psyching herself up, she quietly began sliding out from under the covers.
"No", he said. His hand, which had been nestled under his pillow, rested now on her hip.
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you", she whispered, turning back towards him briefly. His eyes were closed, breathing regular.
House grunted something indistinguishable and she couldn't stop herself from brushing her lips to his cheek. He looked so cute in bed.
Cameron again tried sliding out.
This time his hand on her hip applied pressure, enough that she would need to actively move it out of the way. Breaking contact with House, even in small ways like this, was something she tried to avoid whenever possible. As she had acknowledged to herself long ago, she liked being touched by him, liked feeling his hands on her skin and in her hair. "I need to get up", she explained.
"No".
"What do you mean 'no'?".
"Too early. Alarm's not gone". His eyes remained closed.
"I turned it off so it wouldn't wake you".
"And yet here we are".
"I was trying to be quiet. Anyway, I need to go to work".
For a third time she attempted to de-bed, actually managing to throw the covers back on her side. But his hand slid to her stomach, arm wrapping around her midriff. Both of them were completely naked, having not bothered slipping back into pyjamas after sex.
"House. I need to-".
"-no", he repeated. As on that morning in London, he hooked her towards him, right into his body, and she could feel his breath in her ear: "I really like having you in my bed".
"I really like being in your bed, too", she murmured. As on that morning in London, her resistance was token. Cameron was a fairly small person, but that he was able to pull her one-handed spoke to the strength he had regained. This realisation caused her a surge of excitement.
"It could be our bed, if you wanted".
Cameron's heart started beating rapidly and she flipped over onto her other side so that they were face-to-face.
His eyes were no longer closed.
"What do you mean?", she whispered.
"What do you think I mean?".
"I have a fair idea, but who can really say?".
House rolled his eyes, realising now that she wanted him to spell it out in no uncertain terms. In previous years, of course, he had made an art of avoiding her direct questions. This art had fallen by the wayside as one of the first casualties of their relationship. Sure, like an ageing singer, he could still deliver the occasional tour de force in obliqueness and obfuscation, but these performances were becoming harder to pull off. Whether this was because she was by now mostly familiar with his techniques, and so could more easily approach such issues, or because he himself was accepting of her position within his space (in every sense of the word), he didn't know.
"Always so literal…", he said.
Cameron tapped his nose. "You know this. Now ask me properly".
House sighed, and his hand which had no longer needed to be on her stomach, now tugged his ear awkwardly. "Wanna live with me, Chicago? You don't need to decide-".
"-yes-".
"-right now", he finished. "Oh".
"Yes, I'd like to live with you, House", she smiled.
"Well, er, think it through and stuff, I guess. Because we'd need to decide which of your things can fit in here".
"That's fine. We can figure out the logistics, for sure. Gotta be honest, though—wasn't expecting you to ask me to move in yet".
"Mmm. My original plan was to give the dust time to settle, get to know each other again. But then it was pointed out to me that, actually, we've already been living together for months".
"Wilson?", she smirked.
"Maybe. Anyway, I've been happier with you here, so seems like a good time to make it permanent. If you're up for that".
"I sure am. And I've been so happy with you, too".
"Um, cool, OK". That had been a lot easier than he had anticipated. Perhaps a certain oncologist had been right all along.
They kissed, tenderly at first, though it soon deepened. Before long, Cameron's soft moans led her to push him onto his back, and she followed close behind, laying on top of him. "Unfortunately", she sighed between kisses, "I don't have time for a morning delight. But, maybe…", she slipped downwards, planting little kisses on the way, keeping eye contact until disappearing under the covers, "…this is something to remember me by while I'm working".
House inhaled as she continued her explorations.
"Oh, what do we have here? Well, seems a shame to waste such a shapely piece of wood".
Glancing down, he could see the telltale ripples in the duvet. But he wanted to observe her, so threw it back, revealing Cameron to his view. She looked straight into his eyes, through the tangle of her hair. With a mischievous wink, she drew her tongue deliberately along his length before engulfing him.
A good start to the day.
Cameron spent longer than originally planned in the ER because she wanted to make up some time after her lateness this morning, caused by the simple fact that she had got a bit carried away with House. She was a person who valued promptness, especially in her professional life, and she knew House found this more than a little funny. Even this morning, as she ran around the apartment in a blaze of efficiency (shower, dressed, breakfast, makeup), he had ambled through to the living room and installed himself on the sofa for a front row seat. When she was finally ready to leave he gave her a smile and a 'that was impressive!'. She had kissed him deeply before flying out of the door, all the same. No matter how late she was, there was always room for a kiss.
The slight change in schedule meant that she had had no time to stop off at her desk upon arriving at PPTH earlier that day. Although the ER ostensibly used hotdesking, in practice the doctors here generally stuck to their own spaces, and she herself had secured a small corner of the staffroom with a laptop, in-tray, and threadbare wheelie chair. She made her way to this, catching the eye of Beverley Pritchard, the woman who had welcomed her to the ER her first week.
"Hi, Allison", she smiled. "How's it going?".
"Yeah, pretty good, thanks, Beverley. Just about to clear some paperwork before heading off".
"Cool. How's Dr. House these days? On the mend?".
"I hope so!", she replied. They had discussed House a few times, just in passing. "We've been doing a lot of rehab. I think it's bearing fruit".
"That's great. It must be so hard to pick yourself up from the canvas like that, huh".
The pair made small talk for a few minutes. Cameron had grown to appreciate this aspect of the ER, which, thanks to its size, generally had a fair few conversation partners available at any one time. Foreman and Chase were fine, but sometimes she became hyper aware that she was the only woman.
You were the only woman, Allison. You don't work there anymore, she reminded herself. So caught up in the joy of restarting their relationship, it was easy to forget that she and House currently worked in different departments. For now, anyway.
Having said her farewells to Pritchard, Cameron went to her desk, logged in, and set about answering emails. Her AJM article was due out next month and there was a message from the editor going over the finer points of publication. Various other business occupied the next thirty minutes and she went to get a coffee from the vending machine in the kitchen area.
Returning to her desk a second time, her eye landed on a brown manila envelope in her tray. If it had been there before, she hadn't noticed it. Nine times out of ten she would have ignored it as just another boring piece of hospital work. But she retrieved it and looked at its front:
Chicago.
Given that House was the only person who called her this, her interest increased exponentially. She slipped a finger in the flap and pulled out the contents: a single piece of A4 paper. She turned it the right way up:
Happy Tuesday, Cameron. I like you…r strength.
The comma and 'like' were both underlined, and the handwriting was definitely House's.
Cameron grinned from ear to ear. Shortly before she had left Diagnostics at the start of the year she had found a similar note on her desk and promptly accused House, who had been working in his office next door, of playing with her feelings by leaving the message so soon after their breakup. After a brief discussion, however, they had both concluded the author to be Chase, hoping to throw his hat into the ring.
This time there was no doubt regarding the person responsible. The simple fact that he had taken the time and effort to write this note made her feel incredibly warm and fuzzy. Small gestures like this, from a man as habitually aloof as House, went straight to her heart. And other areas of her body.
But House couldn't have planted this today because he was at Baker Street.
Right?
Only one way to find out.
Still smiling to herself, and having carefully placed the paper back into its envelope and tray, Cameron logged off and left the ER, her coffee forgotten. She would try Diagnostics, then the offices of Wilson and Cuddy. And Coma Guy's room. It would only require a small detour to satisfy her curiosity, and if House wasn't there she would head back home.
It was late afternoon when Cameron returned to the apartment. House was sitting on the sofa lifting the weights Wilson had brought over some time ago.
"Hey, you", she said to his back as she removed her shoes and walked up to stand behind him.
"Hey. Sorry, just…". House's words emerged from behind gritted teeth as he completed another set, lifting the dumbbells over his head. Cameron wordlessly placed both her hands on his elbows and helped spot. Since he was sitting down, the back of his head came to the height of her chest. The sweat on his neck and t-shirt suggested that he had been at this for a while.
They exercised in silence for another couple of minutes. The immunologist privately thought that he was overdoing it, but she supposed he knew his own body better than she did. Only just, mind.
"Thanks", he said, glugging from a nearby water bottle as Cameron settled into the adjacent seat. "ER OK?".
"Uhuh". She made to lean in and kiss his cheek, but he raised a hand.
"I'm sweaty".
"Don't care". She kissed his stubbled cheek, always loving how it scratched beneath her lips. "I missed you".
He turned towards her and smiled lopsidedly. "Same".
"I got a note today". Cameron looked at him, but his eyes gave nothing away. "Left on my desk".
"Yeah? Who from?".
"Unsure. A secret admirer, probably".
"Hmm". House took another sip of water. "You must have lots of admirers in the ER".
"Don't think it was one of them. They know not to bother me".
"Why not?".
"I'm taken", she replied levelly. "By a grumpy diagnostician I think the world of".
House couldn't help it, and his affected obliviousness dissipated suddenly. He seized her hand and held it to his sweaty cheek. "Thank you", he whispered.
"For what?".
"For getting me through this and letting me love you in my own way. I'm not very good at explaining my feelings for why I like you, but that note-".
"-was left by a secret admirer, House", she interrupted.
The way he had phrased it made her think that he had used the note as a conduit into his mind, for both her benefit and his own. Cameron had told House frequently, since the very start of their relationship last year and even before, the bases of her attraction. But he had generally refrained from such straightforward reciprocation. She herself didn't mind this imbalance, for House had never been one for declarations of any sort. It was enough, as he had just pointed out, that he loved her in his own way.
The note, however, seemed a means through which House could reaffirm the foundations of their union without the pressure of doing it to her face. Typical of him, too, to repurpose as a medium Chase's own efforts at wooing her. Except, of course, Cameron did not need wooing. She would be with House for as long as he wanted her.
"A secret admirer", he nodded, releasing her hand. "By the way, I heard back from Carter. She's booked me in for swimming Thursday evening".
"Cool. I'm free". Then she added: "if those Tuesday notes were to continue magically appearing, here or in the hospital…I'd be totally fine with that".
"Alright, well, it's not down to me, is it. Secret admirer".
"Of course, yes". Cameron suppressed a smile and forced a serious expression onto her face.
Seemingly done with the conversation, House retrieved the television remote and switched it on.
"Hey, Greg?", she asked suddenly.
"Mmm?", he answered as he flicked through channels.
"Are you available Friday?".
"Yeah, why?".
Cameron turned to face him once again, and the smile which had been threatening to materialise since she had returned home, finally did so. "I'd like to go on a date with you".
House met her gaze, his blue eyes flashing. "You'll organise it?".
"I will", she nodded.
"Nothing too strenuous?".
"Nothing too strenuous". Another nod. "Apart from wild, animal sex at the end of the night".
He made a show of considering the matter deeply before grunting: "fine. Pull my leg, why don't you".