Love story
A.N. Happy Easter! House walks with his cane on a treadmill in S6E8 'Ignorance is Bliss' when he ambushes Thirteen at her workout. I borrow that routine here.
The following Wednesday House ambled through into the living room to find Cameron sitting at the coffee table tapping away on her laptop, a headset over her ears. She smiled widely at him, but got back to talking into the microphone as he sank into the sofa: "…yes, it'll just require monitoring. Uhuh. I had a talk with him two weeks-, yes, that's right".
House yawned and reached for Cameron's still steaming cup of coffee, sipping slowly, as he examined the faces on her screen. She really did make good brews.
"Mmm. About three, yes", she continued. "It really depends. We can push ahead with that if you'd like, but regarding what John said-, yes. Uhuh".
House yawned again. Then he scratched his face.
"You want toast for breakfast?", she whispered to him, followed by a: "well, we could review it. Mmm", to the people on her call.
"Your meeting sounds boring", interjected House flatly. "No offence, guys", he offered to the screen, thrusting his face in front of the camera.
Cameron, palm to his cheek, pushed him away, attempting to remain professional. "Sorry, House is awake", she explained to her fellow meeting-goers. Because she was wearing a headset, he couldn't tell their response to this information.
"Hello, dear doctors!", he shouted in an exaggerated English accent. This time he didn't bother moving at all, so the words were delivered off-screen. "How are you this fine morning?!".
"Yes, sorry. Can we stop there?", she continued. "I'm happy to, um, finish this via email later, if you-?".
"-but I'm just getting started!".
"OK, yep. As you know, he's like a small child. Anyway, I'll follow up…uhuh. OK. Bye".
Before the call ended House waved at the camera.
"Was all that strictly necessary?", she remarked drily, turning her head towards her neighbour on the couch.
"Of course", he replied, adopting a wounded tone. "I don't do unnecessary things—waste of energy".
Cameron gazed at him levelly before shrugging. "I guess it's been two relatively problem-free months-".
"-yes, exactly-".
"-and I should be grateful that this is the first disruption".
"You got it". A nod. "You're gonna go far, girl, I'll tell you that for free".
"I made you a coffee, by the way. Y'know, before my incredibly important meeting-".
"-which meeting?",
"The one you just sabotaged".
"Oh. Well, regardless, there's no need, I'll just finish yours". He brandished her mug and took a couple of sips.
"Are you in a good mood or something?", she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No more than usual; just had a real good sleep, with a real good dream".
"Am I, uh, gonna need to wash your sheets?". This question was delivered with a straight face, and she sat back and folded her arms.
"What am I? Fifteen years old?". Downing her coffee, he placed the empty cup on the table and met her eyes. "This ain't my first rodeo".
"Absolutely no one thinks you're fifteen years old, House".
"Strange. You literally just said I was like a small child. Best get your story straight, CB. People might think that blonde hair is finally infecting your brain".
Cameron shook her head. "You know perfectly well that I was referring to how you needed attention".
"I do need attention. That dream got me all riled up".
"Monica Bellucci, was it?". Thanks to a conversation they had shared the morning of their flight to London last year, she knew this actress to be high up on the list of his hypothetical 'free passes', just behind Scarlett Johansson. It was a happy coincidence that she and Johansson (one of his two Scarletts, to go with O'Hara from Gone With The Wind) now shared the same hair colour. The brunette look, her companion for the first three years at PPTH, had suddenly become too onerous to maintain one December day. And variety was the spice of life, after all.
House threw her a wink. "Can't say, sorry. But I do need a…physical outlet".
"Yeah? What d'you have in mind?". Though she of course knew that he wouldn't suggest sex, her heartbeat quickened, nonetheless.
"That depends. You got anything major planned this morning?".
"Another meeting in an hour or so, but I can push it back, no problem. Caring for you takes precedence".
"Says who?".
"Says Cuddy".
"Hmm". He considered the situation for a few seconds but shrugged eventually. As Wilson had informed him recently, it wasn't his job to be telling her what to do, even if he disliked inserting himself too overtly into her plans and impacting her career progression, however minutely. The meeting sabotage just now didn't count.
"So, what did you have in mind?", she prompted again.
"Well, I was thinking about doing a bit of exercise before breakfast. I've recovered from last Friday and feel better for it. Plus, I haven't showered yet, so-".
"-that's a great idea!", she exclaimed, beaming at him.
House looked at her oddly. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you so…jolly?".
"I just think it's a great idea, is all. The more work we can do now, before the cast comes off, the quicker your recovery on the other side". And the quicker we can be together.
"OK…". House sounded unconvinced at her explanation for the enthusiastic reaction.
"We both need to get changed. I'll grab my stuff from your room and head to the bathroom. Meet back here in ten?".
When House ambled through into the living room a little later he found Cameron already rearranging the furniture to make space. If he were being honest, he felt a touch self-conscious. Prior to the crash he had been as fit as ever. But now things were different.
Two months of doing absolutely nothing + an ever-slowing metabolism = fat bastard.
It was hard to argue with basic math.
Still, Cameron had expressly asked to do this, even cried, so it would be needlessly antagonistic to refuse. Plus, he really did fold like a cheap suit when a woman he cared about wept in front of him. So here he stood wearing a pair of baggy shorts that fitted well enough over his leg cast, a New England Patriots t-shirt, and an expression that verged on the apprehensive.
"This is going to be very boring for you", he said.
"Oh, hey". Cameron, who had been turned away laying out yoga mats, now faced him, placing a hand on her hip. Hair tied back with a scrunchie, she wore a thin fleeced top and a pair of tight jogging bottoms, both of which hugged her form.
"Like I said, it's-".
"-going to be boring for me, yes. So, I'm thinking we should start on the treadmill, with cane, to warm up, move to the bands, do some core work, then maybe finish with those dumbbells Wilson left. If you feel up to it".
"Or, and bear with me here", House held up a finger, "we do some weights, then I collapse into a heap. Y'know?".
"I wouldn't let you fall, Greg". Cameron barely cracked a smile. She was, it seemed, taking this whole thing very seriously.
"Like you'd be able to catch me. I'm twice your size", he snorted.
"At least", she nodded, glancing pointedly at his midriff.
House scowled, but eventually inclined his head and went to the treadmill, cane in hand.
Cameron, meanwhile, took up position to the side and fiddled with settings. "We'll take this super slow, OK? Any pain, and I mean any pain, you tell me and we stop straight away".
"Yeah, yeah".
She seized his hand, forcing him to look into her green eyes. "House, I could not be more serious about this. Any pain. OK?".
"OK". Stern Cameron didn't often make an appearance, so he knew enough not to argue.
"Excellent", she smiled brightly. "You ready to start?".
At his nod, she activated the machine and watched carefully as he completed the initial motions, searching his face and gait for any obvious signs of discomfort. Even though a joint workout was something she had wanted to do for herself, and in fact had wanted to do again ever since their run last year, she still had her nurse's hat on. "How're you feeling?".
"Fine. The last time with Wilson, my cane could only manage ten seconds, so this is a major improvement".
Cameron stifled a smile by clearing her throat. After a minute or two, she took out her phone.
House noticed. "Hey, no pictures".
"I'm not taking a picture", she replied, face still on the screen.
"What're you doing, then?".
"This". A couple more button presses, then music blared.
He winced. "What the hell…? What is this?".
"Taylor Swift".
"It sounds…bad".
"No, it doesn't".
"It really does".
"She's a modern American pop phenomenon".
"Says who?".
"Says modern America".
"Why does she sound like a goat?", he asked, gradually getting into the rhythm. If somebody had told him a year ago that he'd be jogging with a cane he'd have called them a complete moron. If someone had told him that he'd be jogging with a cane on a treadmill in his own living room he'd have called them a truly complete moron. Things had changed a great deal in that period: shot, ketamine, Cameron, crash. And now he was doing actual physical rehab. A year ago, the only flavour of rehab possible concerned weaning off Vicodin.
A year ago, Cameron wasn't blonde.
And she was nowhere close to entering his living room, let alone playing Taylor Swift on her phone and sleeping every night on his couch.
What a weird year it had been. Probably the weirdest of his life. But, as he glanced across and saw her smile, he realised that things weren't so bad.
"She doesn't sound like a goat", she replied, examining the display. "OK, two more minutes then we'll give cardio a break".
House grunted his acknowledgement.
Two minutes passed.
"Great. Let's pause there for a few. Drink".
A bottle of water appeared before his lips and he drank dutifully.
"How are you feeling?".
"I'm fine. Let's try the dumbbells".
"I think it's best we finish with-".
"-dumbbells". The tone, that of a stubborn mule, brooked no resistance.
"Right", she sighed. "Lie down and I'll spot you".
House smirked to himself. Wilson had said the exact same thing when they both had exercised on Friday, so as he got into position he decided to reply the same, too: "like you've ever spotted anyone in your life".
"Of course I've done it before". Cameron had already retrieved the weights and stood by expectantly.
"Yeah? Who with?". A few arm stretches accompanied these words.
"I, er…well…", she stammered.
"You're blushing, Allison", he teased. "You and your family have joint workout sessions before clarinet practice or something? God, that would be so you".
"No…". Cameron tucked behind her ear a strand of hair that had escaped her band.
House grinned. "Ohh. A boyfriend thing. Chase? Sebastian Charles, maybe? Ugh, I can imagine that guy pumping iron. What a dick".
"Are we doing this or what?", she asked slightly louder than normal.
"I mean, not until you tell me who you gymed with". This had started out as a joke, but her coyness had made him incredibly curious.
"House…".
"I'm not moving 'til you tell me, Camster".
Cameron sighed, but when she spoke her voice was soft: "I used to exercise with my husband, OK? Before he…got bad. It would be a thing we used to do every week. No matter how busy we were, if we were arguing or relaxing, it didn't matter. It was our thing".
House cleared his throat, feeling immediately foolish. "Sorry, I didn't know".
"No reason why you would", she smiled back weakly.
"Still, I'm sorry I pushed you. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable".
Again, Cameron sighed. For so long, swept up in a relationship with House, she had barely even stopped to consider her past, nor even to bother comparing it with the present. Recently, though, and perhaps because she and House were not currently together, she had taken to reflecting on both of these men who, between them, comprised the sum total of her life's loves. Exercising with House, she knew, wasn't just for his benefit, but hers as well. In a small yet significant way, it symbolised a moving on, even if they were technically still apart.
She wanted to tell him: you don't make me uncomfortable, House. You make me so comfortable it occasionally frightens me.
But they were apart, and confessions of this sort would have to wait for a more suitable time. So, instead, she said: "it's fine".
"We can do this some other day if you-".
"-absolutely not. I want to do this now". Her voice, previously soft, was now firm. She sat down on the mat.
"Alright. You're not gonna bash my brains out with that ten-pounder, right?", he asked only half-jokingly.
"Nah, your face is too pretty to ruin. Plus, I'd be depriving PPTH of its star diagnostician".
"And the world of its genius", added House.
"Quite. Let's go, then. You've had a good break".
"So, where're we doing this?". The position she had assumed left House a little confused as to logistics.
She nodded at the mat. "You lie here and I spot you, duh".
"You're kind of in the way".
"No. I spread my legs a bit, you lie between, and I can support the weights easily if necessary".
House, who had actually missed everything after 'I spread my legs', tugged an ear. "Um, that's not how I did it with Wilson".
"I'm glad. It would have been borderline inappropriate".
"That's what I'm saying, though".
"Dude, you've been between my legs a whole bunch of times, and it's just an easier position for me. Just imagine we're rowing. You like rowing, right?".
House's heart softened a touch at her use of 'dude'. He had always found it unfailingly cute when she called him that. "I like rowing…".
"Lie down…", she patted the mat in front of her. Evidently, she intended to sit up, her legs outstretched. He would then lie on his back in the space, "…and don't headbutt my vagina".
"You're doing this on purpose", he sighed, nevertheless obeying her instructions. The top of his head did indeed end up in the crotch area. And looking up gave him an eyeful, too. This ain't so bad.
"I'm not doing anything except helping you exercise", she replied, gently lowering the weights into his hands, but still supporting them. Sure, this position teased him, but it really was easier for her to maintain her shape. And his.
For the next few minutes, House completed a number of short sets, allowing her to guide his pace. After a while he started humming along to the music.
"You're a Swifty, huh?", she smiled down at him.
"Hardly. Though I will accept that this tune is kinda catchy. What's it called?".
"It's actually called Love Story. Y'know, a guy and a girl who can't be together until they each sort out their problems, et cetera, et cetera".
House shut the hell up after that.
