Serendipity

Cameron was driving to work and thinking, as she had every day since it happened, about the 'collision' with House last Thursday. She was thinking about the cold terror which had shot through her system at the possibility that she might have inflicted more damage to his body. He had endured so much over these months, emotionally and physically, that for her to have caused him a relapse would have been a sick joke. As a result, she was also thinking that in the future it would be best not to run around the apartment like a maniac, no matter how nice a glass of wine with a bath might be.

More than anything, though, she was thinking about how House's arms had wrapped around her as they tumbled to the couch: a feeling which she had not experienced for many months. It was faintly pathetic, perhaps, for her to reflect so much on a circumstance that had come about completely by chance; and House himself would likely have barely given it a second thought. But she couldn't help it.

As Cameron pulled up to the junction, her eyes trailing over a man and woman walking hand in hand on the sidewalk, she realised at once that she missed House terribly. This particular form of exquisite torture, lurching from pining to contentment, couldn't go on for much longer. The light turned green and she hit the gas, thinking back over her words at his bedside. She had told him they couldn't be together until he 'got back to where he was' prior to the crash; until he had devoted himself to his recovery. That second criterion he had met undoubtedly, maintaining not just Carter's officially sanctioned rehab programme, but even all the bits in between. Barely a day passed now where he wasn't working at his fitness in some way.

The first criterion, however, was slightly harder to meet—he was still not caneless. But then, she thought, maybe I was being too rigid. Like, regaining full mobility could take a very long time. I don't think I can do that.

As Cameron navigated the early morning traffic, she bit her lip softly. This internal bargaining represented a slippery slope. Like an addict justifying one last hit, she knew that she was simply trying to find excuses for making a move on her roommate. And it also needed to be acknowledged that she had been reasoning on the assumption that House would actually prove receptive to any potential advance. Sure, he had asked the question way back when in the hospital, but that didn't automatically mean he would want the same thing right now. For all she knew, he was entirely happy with the status quo.

Cameron sighed and, in an effort to quieten her overactive brain, turned the radio up. A catchy tune, and she tapped the wheel to the beat. Though she didn't really focus on the lyrics the chorus sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. Her annoyance at this reality grew as the song progressed, such that when it finally ended she listened closely for the DJ:

And that was Keep On Loving You by R.E.O. Speedwagon; you gotta love the classics even early in the morning. Anyway, as I was saying before, Michelle in North Caldwell has got in touch asking-

It took her a few seconds to join the dots, but she soon remembered how this track had provided the impetus for House's effort to reach her apartment that night several months ago. At the time it had been the band's proximity to Chicago that had proved the final straw. Odd that it should crop up again, just as she was considering her options very seriously.

Cameron shook her head and forced herself to think about something else.


Following a morning in the ER, Cameron decided on a whim to pick up a couple of clinic hours before heading back to the apartment. Porter and Cuddy had been so accommodating over this last little while that she felt she owed the hospital something extra. Having picked up a file from the stack, she headed to exam room three.

"Hi, Mr. Ford?", she asked, looking up from her reading. "Allison Cameron".

"Graham. Hello, yes, that's right", replied the elderly man sitting on the bed. "This is my wife, Nancy", he gestured towards the woman at his side. "Is it OK if she's here, too?".

"Of course", smiled Cameron. "Whatever you're most comfortable with".

"I'm comfortable if she does the talking, to be honest", he grimaced, grabbing his wife's hand for support.

Nancy looked at him tenderly before inclining towards Cameron. "My husband thought he was thirty years old again and decided, without telling me, to get the ladder out to check our gutters. We've had birds nesting".

The man nodded forlornly.

"And he fell off and hit his head-".

"-I'm sure I'm fine", he managed.

"Honestly, Graham…", sighed his wife. "I wish you'd slow down. If anything happened to you…". She covered one of his hands with both of hers.

"OK", said Cameron, whose heart softened at the mutual affection washing off these people. "I'll need to inspect your head and we'll go through a concussion test".

"I've been feeling queasy, to be honest".

For the next fifteen minutes the immunologist carefully checked her patient, who was indeed suffering from a medium-level concussion.

Cameron made a few notes before addressing the pair. "To be on the safe side, I'm going to keep you in overnight for observation, just in case you experience any strong adverse effects".

The man winced.

"I'll also write you a script for the pain", she added.

"Ah, it's not that. I just, er, haven't spent a night apart from Nancy since the day we were married".

"I don't suppose I'd be able to stay over, too?", asked Nancy hopefully.

"I'm afraid not. Hospital rules".

"What if I drove home and picked up some of his things for overnight—would that be OK?".

"Yes, that'd be fine", smiled Cameron, remembering that she had done the exact same thing for House on the night of his crash, albeit the items had been retrieved from his office rather than apartment. "If you'd like to wait here, Mr. Ford, I'll admit you and grab a nurse".

"I'll drive back now, darling", spoke wife to husband, kissing his cheek. "See you soon".

Graham nodded as both women exited the exam room.

"Before you leave, would you mind filling in a form for your husband's admittance?", asked Cameron, gesturing towards reception. "We just need a little more information".

"Of course".

While Nancy completed the paperwork, Cameron, who had been reflecting on the exchanges between the two, couldn't help it: "sorry, would I be able to ask you something? It has no medical relevance".

"Go right ahead", chuckled the older lady.

"How long have you been married?".

"Forty-four years this September", she answered automatically, before looking up, as if surprised: "gosh, it's been a long time".

"Can I ask how you met?".

"He was my colleague, actually, at work. I made shoes; we made shoes", she explained. "Anyway, he suffered a serious injury from one of the machines and took time off. We were still young, each living with our parents, so I had to manufacture reasons to drop by while he recovered: work memos, product samples, food. When he returned, his very first day back, he asked me to the movies: The Godfather Part II. I don't know why he thought it an appropriate film; I hadn't even seen the first one. And that was that. Oh, sorry, I've been going on. Here". She handed across the completed form.

"Not at all", smiled Cameron. "So…you knew straightaway that he was the one for you?".

Nancy, who had been replacing the pen in her bag, now fixed Cameron with knowing eyes. "I did. He looked so dashing, and he was just incredibly sweet. I'd liked him for a few months prior, but, you know, it was a different time and our families were very conservative. Emotions were, not frowned upon, obviously, but…". She waved a hand. "Anyway, looking back, it was time wasted not being together. We should've just been up front with our feelings from the very beginning rather than waiting".

"Right", murmured Cameron, nodding to a nurse and sending her to Mr. Ford.

"These questions…would I be correct in assuming that you have a partner?", asked Nancy.

"Well, not really, not at the moment. There is someone who I love very much, but…it's complicated". The immunologist would not ordinarily have spoken so plainly to a stranger, but something about how today had gone suggested it was no ordinary day.

"Love isn't complicated, dear. It's the simplest thing in the world".

"But he also suffered a serious injury, and he's recovering".

"All the more reason not to let it slip by. You never know what might be around the corner. For both of you".

"Mmm. Well, thanks. The nurse is seeing your husband to his room. When you return, give your name to reception and they'll take you to him".

"OK, thanks, Dr. Cameron".

"No problem. Good luck!".

"And to you".

Cameron watched as Nancy Ford left the hospital. Then she went to retrieve another file from the stack, still turning over what they had just discussed.

First the song on the drive to work, now this conversation.

Very odd.


Having completed her clinic duty, Cameron was on the way to the locker room prior to heading home when she was intercepted by Cuddy, who had just left her office.

"Hey", said the Dean. "I didn't know you were in today".

Cameron stopped and smiled. "Oh, hi. Yeah, been doing a few days here and there".

"Alright. We'll need to have a meeting at some point to figure out a long-term plan. I've heard from Carter that House's doing exceptionally well with his rehab".

"He is", she nodded. "He's even started some fast walk-jogs".

"Wow. Is the ketamine still active, then?".

"I actually don't know. He's not mentioned it, but he also hasn't been taking many painkillers".

"OK. I'm mulling over asking whether he'd like to start weighing up a return to work. What do you think?".

Cameron shrugged, always unwilling to speak on House's behalf. "Maybe, yeah. Shall I raise it later?".

"Nah, no need. I'll email him. Hey, I'm glad I bumped into you. Wanna hang out Friday, maybe go to a bar or something?".

"Did House speak to you?", asked Cameron, frowning slightly. He had already made it clear that he thought her unsociability to be the result of his condition, and thus she wouldn't have put it past him pestering Cuddy to take her out.

"Nope. Not spoken for a week or so. Why?".

"Nothing". Cuddy's obliviousness at this question had seemed genuine. Perhaps she was the one being paranoid. In any case, they hadn't been out together for a good few months, so it would be nice to catch up.

"You keen? There's a place in town I've been angling to check out. It's a Spanish bar. Apparently it does great tapas".

"Yeah, sure, why not? What time're you thinking? Seven?".

"Sounds good. I'll text you the address later. I think it's quite a nice place, so…".

Cameron nodded, making a note in her phone. "Not jeans and sneakers, then".

"Anyway, I'd best be on my way", said Cuddy, patting the folder of papers wedged under her arm. "A meeting in Neurology calls. Give my love to House?".

The phrasing caused Cameron to look up sharply.

"What?". Cuddy raised her eyebrows.

"What's your view on true love?".

"Err, where's that coming from?".

"I had a patient earlier come in with his wife. They'd been married forty years or something. Figured it was worthy of mention".

"Well", she nodded slowly, "if you're asking my opinion, I don't believe in it, though I know my parents were happily married for a while before my father died".

"Mine are happy, too. But I dunno…just got me thinking about the whole thing". Cameron had been leaning against the wall adjacent to the locker room entrance door, and she had to step aside as a trio of people emerged from within. When her gaze returned to her conversation partner, she could see Cuddy looking curious. "What?".

"How's it going with House these days?", asked the Dean casually.

"Rehab, TV, et cetera. He's convinced the mailman has hatched a plot against the apartment".

"Uhuh". Cuddy had actually been alluding to the romantic situation which, as far as she knew, was still on hold. But she didn't push it. "Guess I do need to go now. Neurology's gonna get antsy".

"OK", she replied, thankful to have dodged the bullet. "I'll see you Friday".

Watching Cuddy's retreating back, Cameron realised that she had thought about love quite enough for one day.