Paradise regained

A.N. I'm back from holiday and not a moment too soon because I was getting serious Hameron withdrawals! Apologies to my fellow Europeans for the late upload time on a Friday night. Like the previous chapter, this one owes something to House and Cuddy scenes in S7E1 'Now what?'. Cameron does a 'valley girl' accent here (as a non-American I had to look up what this was), and I derived it from a couple of scenes between Cameron and Cuddy which you can still find on YouTube. I think they may have been joke outtakes for the DVD or something.

Alright, look. House and Cameron are back together and there's going to be tooth-rotting fluff now for the foreseeable future. I won't be breaking them up again. My hope is that the drama of being in a relationship (and where that might lead…) will suffice for entertainment. That's my hope, anyway. We'll see how it pans out. I planned for fifty or so chapters between this and the earlier chapter 'Paradise lost' (ch. 101), so I did miss my target a bit, alas.

I, who erewhile the happy Garden sung

By one man's disobedience lost, now sing

Recovered Paradise to all mankind

John Milton, Paradise Regained (1671)


When Cameron emerged from the bathroom a little later, now wearing a t-shirt and shorts, she was met with the most magnificent smell of cooking bacon and fresh coffee. Jogging through to the kitchen, she found House at the stove wearing his Pink Floyd apron. Without broadcasting her presence, she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his front, resting her ear between his shoulder blades.

"Find Nemo OK?", he asked, flipping over the bacon with his spatula, but still managing to rub her hand.

"Yes". Cameron bit his shoulder playfully.

"I got bacon, hash browns, and pancakes on the go here. And the coffee…", he sidestepped to the pot for a second, she still clinging on for dear life, "…is brewing nicely. I took extra care over it so you wouldn't call it sucky".

Cameron smiled. "That's a lot of stuff".

"Yeah, well", he mumbled, seemingly embarrassed. "Figured it's a celebration, kind of".

"It is a celebration".

"So I hope you're hungry". House cracked the eggs, ensuring that the yolk remained intact.

"I'm hungry for you, buster", she whispered into his ear, running her hands over his front. House joked about being out of shape, but if so it was hard to tell. Certainly, an almost monk-like devotion to his rehab had reaped the benefits. The shoulders were still broad. Her hand trailed up his chest to his chin, and she pinched it.

"You're making it difficult to cook, woman".

"Yes", she replied simply.

He remained engrossed in preparing breakfast, making no effort to dip down to meet her. Consequently, she had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss his neck around to his jaw, feeling familiar stubble against her lips. Despite his token resistance, it took her no time at all to divert his mouth to the side.

House growled in mock frustration and let the spatula fall against the edge of the pan, forcing a momentary break in contact. Now that both hands were free, he turned completely so that they were face-to-face. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. It had been a long while since he had observed that expression, and his heart quickened.

"What're you thinking?", she breathed, interlocking her hands around the back of his neck.

"I'm thinking…that I'm glad for your persistence". He tapped her nose with a finger.

"Only glad?". Cameron raised an eyebrow. "We can do better than that, Dr. House".

"You think so? What's on the list next?".

"How about I just tell you exactly how today's gonna play out, so you can prepare yourself?".

"Alright…".

"We're going to eat, then we're gonna play music together—because it's something I've wanted to do for so long—then we're gonna make out on the couch, then we'll play a video game, then we'll make out some more, then we'll watch a movie, then we'll eat takeout-".

"-you're aware that you're describing basically my dream day, right?", he interrupted.

"Huh, really? Weird. Anyway. We'll do all that, then finally...".

"Finally…?".

Instead of answering directly, she whispered once again in his ear. For Cameron it was the anticipation that made her shiver. Sure, they could have screwed like rabbits as soon as the 'contract' had been signed this morning, but she wanted to savour this day as a gourmet meal, mouthful by mouthful, just like their first dates all those months ago.

"What if I say I've got used to sleeping by myself and that there's no room in my bed for a Chicago Blonde?", he asked, turning back to the pan. "We're ready. Toss me a couple of plates? Coffee'll be done, too".

"Hmm". Cameron did as instructed, handing over plates and pushing down the plunger on the pot. "What about a Chicago Bitch? Or a Blonde Bombshell? You got room for her?".

"Maybe". House divided up the pan contents between them, grabbed his cane leaning against the counter, and ambled through to the living room.

Cameron followed close behind with their breakfast. She placed one plate before him, the second for herself, before making another trip for the coffee. Only when she had re-joined him did House take up his knife and fork.

"This looks great", she nodded appreciatively, pecking him on the lips.

"Eat up. You'll need the energy—my bum leg won't be doing much of the heavy lifting".

The immunologist threw a salute and duly tucked in.


House was sitting at the piano watching Cameron assemble her clarinet. Weirdly enough, all the time she had been living with him he had never heard her play it. "Have you had it here since day one, or…?", he asked.

"Nah. I brought over some music but in the end I decided that I didn't want to cause a disturbance". She checked the reed carefully.

House shook his head at this confession; yet another pointless act of self-defeatism. "So you haven't played for months?".

"I played whenever I dropped by my apartment for clothes and stuff".

Throughout this whole time Cameron had been shuttling back and forth between her place and his, bringing across fresh clothes, a few books, checking mail. More than once the thought had crossed his mind that she could easily live here permanently, the desire to which she'd admitted last night. Somewhat to his own surprise, sharing a roof had actually been quite exciting, and far less trouble than he would have guessed. Still, they had only just got back together, so it would probably be sensible to let the dust settle.

It slightly disconcerted House that he was thinking this way and had not even the slightest frisson of fear. He couldn't pinpoint quite when this fresh attitude to commitment had arisen, but here it was all the same.

"So what song d'you want to start with?", she queried, blowing a few warmup notes.

"How about you play me one first? Give me an idea what we're working with". House reversed how he was sitting, now leaning against the piano keys to face her.

"OK. Just so you know, I'm not amazing; played a lot in school and stuff, but it sort of fell by the wayside when I focused on medicine".

"Yeah, yeah". He waved his hand, dismissing her reservations. "Play".

"Right, let's see, hmm…what do I remember…".

A moment or two later, and Cameron launched into song. It took House a few seconds to recognise it, but the chorus of Hotel California by the Eagles was unmistakeable. Her effort was an octave lower, and her tempo a little slower, but it was most certainly a classic rock song.

When she finished House grinned at her.

"Well?".

"That was great. I love that you're a musician".

"My Dad's a musician. I just play a bit as a hobby".

"How about this?". House turned back to the piano, flicked open the nearest book to a well-thumbed page, and began playing.

Cameron, meanwhile, grabbed her clarinet and went to sit next to him on the stool. She didn't need his sheet music to recognise this tune. "Georgia On My Mind".

"Uhuh", he replied, continuing his playing. "Jam with me".

The immunologist needed no second invitation, and she quickly followed his lead, bopping along to the rhythm. Though she had been a strong player in her younger days, there was most definitely a great deal of rust, and House was undoubtedly more accomplished. In any case, quality stayed a secondary consideration; of greater importance was the experience. Pure and unadulterated enjoyment. Nothing to do, nowhere to be except with each other.

When they finished he said: "you're good".

Cameron momentarily looked up from examining one of the keys. "I was good. Definitely out of practice".

"Well, you should've played here. I'd have loved to hear it".

"We're doing it now", she shrugged.

"I'll think I'll switch to guitar". He made to get up, but she grabbed his hand. "What?".

"Sit back down. Kiss me first".

Once again their lips met. Where earlier they had been gentle, even tentative, now Cameron kissed him hard, the clarinet placed in her lap. Her hands cupped his cheeks, scratching his stubble, while her tongue burst into his mouth. House's own fingers remained on the piano, allowing her to control the force of their kiss. When they broke apart he inhaled deeply, savouring her subtle scent intermingled with the natural tones of the bath soap.

"May I get up now?", he croaked eventually.

"You may", she breathed, nicking his neck softly before turning back to the music book. "I'll find us another song".

House cleared his throat and retrieved his acoustic guitar from the stand by the big plant pot.


Sounds of Saturday traffic filtered up from outside and the sun shone through the large windows of the apartment as the clock ticked towards noon. Summer was fast approaching, though House and Cameron were oblivious, cuddling on the sofa lengthways, still in their pyjamas after the joint music session.

"Have you got any more at your place?", asked House with a tap on her arm.

"Some. Mainly classical", she hummed back, snuggling closer into his chest.

"Your dad want you mastering the canon, did he?".

"Naturally. I play a killer Beethoven's Ninth".

"Can you actually?". He looked down to catch her eye.

"Sure, yeah. Obviously my version is fairly bare bones compared to the real thing. But all you can do is what you can do".

House naturally tended towards jazz and Americana, though even he could get behind the truly golden oldies. "Bring some over when you make your next pitstop. I could do with expanding my repertoire".

"Noted", she replied, patting his hand and unfolding her legs reluctantly. "I need a Coke. You?".

"Yeah". But then he tugged her back. "Wait; got a better idea. Where did I leave the flame cannon?".

"Let me". Cameron spied the handle leaning against the far sofa armrest. With a little shimmy, still maintaining her position virtually in the crook of his elbow, she hooked it between the toes of her right foot and pulled it upwards so that he could reach out and grab it.

"Show off. Be right back". House tried to haul himself to his feet, but given her position on the outside of their embrace, she blocked his path. "Wanna move?".

"Nah". She trailed her hand up his chest to his cheek, scratching it lightly. "You gotta pay the kiss tax, buster".

"Fine". He duly met her in yet another kiss, and her soft moans caused his thin pyjama bottoms to become just a little uncomfortable. "Now?", he murmured into her mouth eventually.

"Forgot to add, sorry: there's a touch tax, too".

"No problem". House tapped her nose very lightly. "Paid?".

"Nu-uh". She nibbled his lip. "There's room in my shorts for your hand, I think".

"Yeah?", he murmured, stroking her cheek with a thumb, noticing that her eyes had darkened considerably.

"I think so. Why don't you give it a try?".

"Oh, I will. Later. More fun to…draw it out". His thumb brushed down her neck and upper chest, still over her t-shirt.

Cameron frowned. "Tease".

"I'm just sticking to your timetable, Camster. No sex 'til tonight". With a final tender kiss to her cheek, he manoeuvred down from the sofa and ambled out of the living room.

She, meanwhile, stretched like a cat, arms and legs fully extended, completely happy. The day had been great. And, as House had noted, they were only halfway through. He was right—they had the rest of their lives for sex. But this initial honeymoon period post-rekindling would only happen once. Best 'to draw it out', in his words. The anticipation caused a wide smile.

"Hey, CB?", he called from the other room.

"What?".

"Have you seen my sword?".

Cameron rolled her eyes to herself. "Yes, very funny. I've seen your 'sword' loads of times. It's very impressive in both length and girth".

"Huh?". He poked his head around the corner in such a way that it looked like he was floating. "It wasn't a euphemism".

"Oh. Then no. I have not seen your sword". Cameron, immune to his weirdness, met his gaze levelly.

The floating head disappeared and very soon various disparate sounds filtered down the corridor to where she sat.

"What's going on out there?", she prompted loudly. "D'you want a hand?".

"Just…looking for my-".

A few more bangs and scrapes. Presumably House was neck deep in the hallway closet.

"Ah! Good", he said.

Thirty seconds later, House re-emerged wielding a sword.

Cameron looked up, uttered nothing for three seconds, then nodded. "Mmm. Your sword. Of course, why not?".

"It's a family heirloom", he explained. "At least, I think it is. Else Grandma House bought it at a flea market for a couple of bucks".

"Sure, sure". She went over to examine it. The threads on the scabbard were a little frayed, but the design looked ornate—twisted lines edging downwards to meet at the point, which showed a horse raised up on its hind legs, mane flowing. "I wonder if it's an old cavalry sabre or something".

"Maybe. But could just as easily be a cheap knock-off". Now he wandered to the drinks cabinet, opened it up, and produced a bottle of champagne. "I've always wanted to do this. Best get behind me, though. Just in case".

Cameron did as instructed, both hands on his shoulders.

"OK. Ready?".

"Yep". She kissed his cheek for good luck.

"Three, two…one". House scythed the blade at the corked top and the bottle promptly shattered.

The pair, both of whom had jumped back in surprise, surveyed the scene. Bits of glass and pooled champagne covered a fair portion of the floor.

"That went well", laughed Cameron. "Got another?".


Next on the agenda was a joint gaming session. For this momentous occasion, House had filled a couple of bowls with popcorn, nuts, and English-style crisps. They had also refreshed their Cokes. It was now mid-afternoon, and it marked the longest time Cameron had continuously been in her pyjamas since forever. As for House, he had been in his pyjamas continuously since forever.

"So, what game d'you want to try first?", he asked.

"What was the one you were playing with Wilson when I came back from my New York roundtable?". As she liked to do, Cameron had brought her feet up to sit cross-legged on the sofa.

"Halo? We play that a lot. Basically you just run around shooting aliens in the face 'til you get bored. Then you eat pizza. Then you try and slip pepperoni into the other guy's drink while he's not watching. Second option is Fifa—soccer".

"I don't like soccer. Let's shoot aliens and get pizza after".

House duly set about switching on his PlayStation and loading Halo. He then sat next to the immunologist, showing her his controller. "OK, so you use this button to reload, this one to cycle through your guns, and the sticks to-".

Rather than pay attention, she kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm trying to help you here. Why do you always do that when I…do that?". The time he had tried to teach her how to use chopsticks in London came back to him. Admittedly, by the end of that night she had made some tangible progress, even if her occasional lapse in focus prevented them from hitting peak efficiency.

"Because I like kissing you", she replied. "And you always look so adorable when you explain things to me".

He passed over the second controller with a slight smirk. "Which I have to do a lot. Y'know, 'cos you're blonde".

"Yeah, exactly". An enthusiastic nod. "Hey, House?".

"Mmm?". The way she asked the question made him think she was about to do a bit.

Sure enough, her next words were delivered in a perfect valley girl accent: "like, if the earth is rotating, why is it that, like, your front door always faces east? Way I see it, it's because the earth is flat. You know?".

House stifled a laugh, staying in character. "Interesting question. The answer is that my front door is the axis around which the entire earth rotates".

"Ahh, that makes sense, you know? So, like, you're saying that, I dunno, that your apartment is, like, the centre of the planet?".

"Uhuh. Correct, yeah".

"Cool. I've always loved magic like that".

"Doesn't surprise me", sniffed House, eyeing the Hufflepuff dressing gown she had been wearing all day.

Cameron made a show of looking down. Then she inclined towards him and untied it slowly. "This thing, you mean?", she asked in her normal accent. "You don't like it? I can take it off, if you'd prefer".

He had been navigating through the game menu, but his attention inevitably turned to her hands, which were now hitching up her t-shirt gradually. "You know", she murmured, "I could get rid of this, too. If you wanted…".

Her bellybutton slipped into view.

"…but I would get cold…".

The shirt rose up yet further, revealing more of the smooth, pale skin he knew so well.

"…so you'd need to keep me warm, I guess", she finished softly, keeping the shirt level, just covering her breasts.

House made a guttural sound, but he dragged his eyes to hers. "That's hot and all, but you're playing a risky game asking me to choose between PlayStation and seduction".

Now she grinned, dropping her shirt but not bothering to re-tie the gown. "Ah, true. I'd forgotten who I was dealing with for a second there".

House gestured to her discarded controller, then loaded into a level. "Come on, then, Camster. Give me your best shot".

"Alrighty". She performed a couple of practice movements, thinking back to when she had played console titles with her brothers. Everything seemed straightforward enough.

"So basically we're two soldiers trying to kill these weird aliens who're aiming to take over the galaxy".

Their avatars trekked through a lush jungle, and rainforest sounds played through the speakers. After about fifteen seconds of walking, however, various creatures appeared from the undergrowth and starting firing.

"These guys here, you mean?", she asked, side-eyeing her neighbour.

"Yeah, take 'em down. Watch out for the big dudes—they toss grenades".

"'kay. These trees are in the way. What was jump again?".

"R1. Top right".

House's phone started to ring on the coffee table and he glanced at the caller ID momentarily as he sprayed laser beams at a wave of hostiles.

"Who is it?". Her eyes remained glued to the screen.

"Just Wilson. I'll hit him back later. Stick together and let's head down this tunnel. Careful, they come from behind".

The phrasing caused her to glance across in amusement.

House caught her eye. "I meant the enemies. Obviously. Your mind is always in the gutter".

"Mmm. You're a bad influence", she smiled.

Outside Baker Street, Princeton life continued in the bright summer sunshine. The tree-lined sidewalks were busy with people bustling here and there, and even through the hubbub, birdsong managed to penetrate.

House and Cameron, however, were oblivious to the arresting townscape outside their window. The pair played video games, side-by-side, sharing occasional comments, eating their prepared snacks, for the next two hours.

For both, it was the first Saturday of the rest of their lives. For both, it was a return to paradise.