Three kisses
A.N. Merry Christmas! Thanks for checking in this year despite my glacial upload schedule. 2024 will have lots in store for House and Cameron, I promise you that.
Thursday morning found the fellows in Diagnostics talking together about various departmental business, including their just-completed case. House's surprise visit on Monday had resulted in a brief chat, a lumbar puncture, and a drive-by diagnosis. The fact that he had managed this before mid-afternoon brought all three of them, but especially Foreman, straight back down to earth. Over these last few months they had done good work and saved countless lives. It had even been possible to think themselves an equal to their boss. But they weren't. Not really, anyway.
For Thirteen and Chase this realisation scarcely registered, and given that the former had accepted this job specifically to work under House, all it did was reaffirm how right she had been to take a chance on Princeton's weird nephrologist. And Chase, who had self-confessedly chafed under Foreman's leadership, welcomed the opportunity to return to normality. His feelings for Cameron had gone and so, too, had his antagonism towards House.
"How many days is he doing, then?", asked Chase as he stirred milk into his coffee.
"Two, I think. At least initially", answered Foreman from the conference table. "I got the impression that Cuddy was also pretty confused at the rapid entry".
"You gonna be OK taking a seat with us serfs back at the table?".
The neurologist smiled graciously. "Yeah, man. Look, would I have liked to head things up a bit longer? Sure. But this is House's department. And I am grateful you guys have helped keep stuff ticking over".
Chase threw a salute while Thirteen smiled.
"He's looking good, though", mused Foreman. "Content".
"Yeah. Guess rehab's done wonders".
"Do you really think it's just the rehab?", asked Thirteen pointedly.
"What do you mean?". Chase momentarily stopped chewing on the end of his pencil.
"The guy's getting laid".
Blank faces stared back at her.
She rolled her eyes. "Remember, I only knew him after his split with Cameron. It's night and day between then and now. They're back together".
"Nah, no way. They broke up because of work. Don't think they'd get back together just in time to restart at the hospital again", offered Chase.
"I agree, to be honest", said Foreman. "Even if House loves Cameron, he loves medicine more".
"Care to place a wager, men?". Her grey eyes flashed and she folded her arms.
"Not really fair", pointed out Chase. "We've known House way longer than you. We know his moods and also why they broke up in the first place".
"How much're you thinking?", queried Foreman casually. He knew that as payment for coming back to work after Vogler Cameron had extracted a date out of their boss. There was an opportunity here to suggest a similar deal with Thirteen—if he won, he got to take her out. Although he had managed to edge a little closer to her, he had never felt comfortable enough in their dynamic to take that next step. Winning a wager would solve that problem.
"Hundred bucks to each of you says Cameron and House are together".
"I'll take that bet. If you win, you get a hundred bucks. But if I win, I don't want your money. I want a date".
Chase raised his eyebrows in surprise, gaze darting between his two colleagues. He had long known Foreman's feelings; they had discussed them in the bar on a couple of occasions. Good for him, he thought.
"Fine", Thirteen shrugged. "You ain't bad looking. For a dude".
"Thanks…I guess", he laughed.
"The heck was that?", asked Chase.
"What?".
"You laughed. God, that's disturbing. Don't do that again".
Foreman gave him the finger.
More laughter.
"I'll take the bet", said Chase eventually. "Hundred bucks'll do me fine, thanks. How do we find out? I'm not texting Cameron".
"I'll text Cameron". Thirteen whipped out her phone and quickly typed out a message.
"Didn't know you guys spoke".
"We exchanged numbers when we all went to the bar. We were waiting for you guys, so…".
The trio spent the next fifteen minutes in conversation while they drank their coffee. Only one of them, Thirteen, was reflecting on the possible ramifications if House and Cameron were indeed back together, for it had not been forgotten that her hiring occurred only after Cameron had left the department. And though the others had not explicitly spelled out why she had departed, it didn't take a genius to put two and two together.
If the immunologist wanted back in, how would that affect her own position? She supposed that there was nothing to do except work hard, work smart, and try and prove her worth to House whenever she could.
At the end of the day, thought Thirteen, it's only a job.
Following her remote hours, Cameron swung by her apartment to pick up some clothes and bathing suit for their swim this evening. No sooner had she got through her front door did her phone buzz and she pulled it out. A message from House, and one from Thirteen sent earlier today. It had been so busy with work that she hadn't had time to look. She swiped open the one from House.
You heading to your apartment first?
She wandered through to the kitchenette, dumped her handbag on the side, and headed onwards to the bedroom with the duffel bag she had brought in from the trunk.
Yeah. Here now. Want me to pick up anything on the way back? Xx
A few summer clothes from her wardrobe disappeared into the duffel bag, and from it was taken various bits of winter wear.
Nah. Was thinking you could bring some more of your stuff over alongside your clothes. Like some books, pictures, whatever you wanna have in our place. Just what you can carry. And then we can do a bigger move this weekend.
She picked up the phone immediately upon hearing the alert and read the message, feeling an inevitable twinge of excitement at 'our place'. More than a twinge; she closed her eyes and breathed in as a wave of happiness swelled through her chest.
I made some room today, he added. For your stuff.
OK, she typed back, sitting on the bed. Do you mind if I bring my skyscraper picture? Xxx
Bring whatever you want. If it looks like hot garbage I'll wait til you're at work to toss it out x
Cameron's heart skipped a beat. That's the first time you've sent me a kiss.
Really? Dunno about that.
Every time you text me from now on I want at least 1 kiss.
I can do that…if you do 3 x
She felt like a teenager texting her crush. Which she half was. Easy xxx
Still on for swimming in an hour? X
Uhuh. Grabbing my suit xxx
Then she added: One-piece or bikini? Your choice
And: xxx
House took a few moments to reply and she imagined him picturing her in those things. Good, she thought as she bustled around her bedroom finding clothes. It had always been her desire that he think of her as much as she thought of him. As she had once informed him, she yearned to be his fantasy. No Scarletts O'Hara and Johansson; no Monica Bellucci. No one else but her.
I think one-piece. It'd be hard to hide my boner if you wore a bikini and Carter might get the wrong idea x
Haha fine. See you later xxx
He replied with a thumbs up.
Still smiling, she now swiped to Thirteen's message, reading it with ever-raising eyebrows. The others wanted the relationship lowdown. On the point of typing out an answer to her question, she tabbed away and got back to packing. House deserved the opportunity to weigh in on making their reunion public.
Having changed into their swimming gear, House and Cameron reconvened at the pool's edge, where Carter was already waiting for them.
"Hi, Allison", she smiled.
"Hey, Carmela. Hope you don't mind me gatecrashing".
"Not at all. Morale is very important in recovery, as I'm sure you both recognise". Carter had not been informed of the burgeoning relationship between her patient and his nurse because it wasn't her business. But she wasn't stupid, either. From the very start of their sessions, Cameron had made frequent appearance. And Carter was in absolutely no doubt as to the woman's positive effect on his recovery.
House gave a slight nod, surreptitiously checking out his girlfriend. Her swimsuit was completely standard which, weirdly, turned him on just as much as if she were naked. He supposed this stemmed from the fact that he knew exactly what lay beneath, and the memory of everything they had done last weekend, the days following, and what they would do tomorrow on (and after) their first date, flashed through his brain. He covertly rearranged his baggy swimshorts by taking his goggles out of the pocket and fiddling with the strap.
He tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Cameron's question: "do you mind if I watch for a minute, Greg? Before I start my own lengths, I mean".
"Sure", he shrugged. "It'll just be boring stuff, though".
"No problem".
Carter led them to the shallow end. The pool was one of several in a vast domed structure. Various banners hanging from the walls and rafters revealed this to be the home of the Princeton University swim team, the Tigers, and several people were plying the lanes in other pools overseen by eagle-eyed coaches. No one paid them any mind. Still, for them to be here Carter had obviously pulled some strings.
"I dated the swimming director in college", she explained, reading their minds. "We'll have regular slots twice a week, more than likely in the evening, if tonight works out for you. Anyway, I'll give you a rundown of my plans for this session…".
After listening to a brief explanation of the exercises he would be doing, House hobbled over to the ladder and sank into the pool. He experienced immediate pleasure. Exercise on dry land was all well and good, but he had always been happiest in water. It had been ever thus. As a boy on myriad airbases around the globe, the quality of his childhood at any particular point was governed by the availability of swimming. And as a man, the leg infarction's cruellest legacy had been the denial of this outlet.
"Ready to start?", asked Carter. She was leaning on a long pole, evidently retrieved to offer him support if he needed it.
House nodded and got into his workout, dutifully completing each activity according to the physiotherapist's instructions. As usual, things started out simply, with slow walks across the width of the shallow end designed to test his gait against resistance. Then he moved onto various exercises holding himself against the side of the pool. Cameron sat down next to him and dangled her feet in the water. She said nothing, though he could feel her smile.
Only when he moved to half-lengths did she finally begin her own set, diving into the water and getting into the rhythm of breaststroke. Although he focused intently on himself, he kept an eye on her progress. She was a decent swimmer, and the knowledge that she was close really did improve his morale as he worked methodically according to Carter's instructions.
"How're you feeling? Any pain?", she asked eventually.
"A bit, but nothing I can't handle".
"Dr. House, this is no time for heroics. We should stop".
"No. Pain's to be expected. It's not sharp".
Carter frowned down at him from the side of the pool.
"I want to do another couple of half-lengths", he insisted, observing Cameron swim past out of the corner of his eye.
"Fine", she sighed, hefting the pole in readiness.
House and Cameron headed out into the evening following their swimming session.
"Thanks for inviting me", she said, ruffling her slightly damp hair. "I enjoyed that".
He swished a finger, dismissing her thanks. "It helped me seeing you. I got a second wind trying to catch up to your ass in the lane ahead".
The immunologist grinned and took his hand in hers as they wandered towards the parking lot. "I'm hungry. Food?".
"Sure. What're you thinking?".
"Could murder a McDonald's".
House looked down at her and failed spectacularly to mask his surprise.
"What?", she said.
"You hate junk food".
"I don't hate it. Every now and then is fine".
"OK, sounds good".
They reached House's car and set off for McDonald's in companionable silence. Cameron's mind was whirring, however, thinking on date ideas for tomorrow. It was also House's birthday next week, and she wanted to do something nice for that. At the moment she was in the middle of trying to secure monster truck tickets, but if that fell through she had several back-up plans. Although she had long known House's birthday, they had not been together until last Friday, so she had been unwilling to advance plan anything that could be construed as signifying more than friendship.
Early summer Princeton passed by the windows. This place had been her home for several years now and she considered herself familiar with its ebbs and flows. Most of her family had stayed in the Midwest, but her heart had always followed different currents. Now it only followed one current.
She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. These bursts of euphoria were becoming increasingly common.
House, mistaking it for a sigh, glanced across. "What's up? We can still divert to a fancier restaurant, if you want?".
Cameron shook her head and placed a hand on his knee. "I'm just happy, Greg. With you. With us. With everything".
A smile tugged at his lips though he soon refocused on the road. "I am, too. I was thinking, though, that I was a bit presumptuous before. When I asked if you wanted to move into my apartment".
"What?", she asked, with slightly more force than intended.
"No, I mean, like, I just assumed that you'd move into my place. Rather than me into yours. You know?". His tone suggested that he had been thinking about this issue for a time.
"Oh. No, I want to live at Baker Street. I don't even own my apartment, anyway".
"Didn't know that. You rent?".
"Yeah. Most of the stuff in there came with the place. Obviously, I have my fair share of belongings, but apart from that I don't really have any connection to it".
House nodded.
A few moments passed in silence.
"But…", he continued, "…I guess, down the line, in terms of, er, family and…stuff, we could, uh, look at getting a place together?".
Recognising his unfamiliarity with raising such issues, she smiled widely at him. "I'd love that".
He carried on instantly, and once again Cameron got the distinct impression that this conversation was premeditated. "Because I was thinking about what you said earlier concerning which of your stuff you could bring to live with us, and I just want you to feel comfortable. I don't want you to feel like you're a visitor. I-want-you-to-feel-like-my-home-is-your-home". The last sentence emerged in a rush and he kept his eyes firmly on the road.
Cameron regarded his profile keenly.
Hearing nothing, House glanced across to see what was going on. She was staring straight at him, so his eyes darted forwards again.
"Did you, er, hear what I-?", he croaked.
"-God, you are so cute", she announced suddenly. "I mean, I've always thought you were hot. But you're really damn cute, too. Interesting". Then she added, almost to herself: "I like that. I like that a lot…".
The McDonald's sign loomed ahead and, in slight confusion at how events had transpired, House swung the car into the lot.
"Go and park over there". She pointed through the windshield at a bay right in the corner against a wall, with no other vehicles nearby.
"It's far from the entrance".
"Just park over there", she repeated, glancing around quickly. "Front first".
House did as instructed, even more confused.
As soon as they were stationary, she loosened the bow on the jogging pants she had worn to the pool.
"Can I borrow your hand for, literally, three minutes? Sorry. I just need to do something about this or I'll go crazy. Sorry".
"Um, OK". He let her grab him. "What are you…?".
"I…am…", she splayed her legs and thrust his hand down the front of her pants, "…touching myself…with your long fingers…oh, fuck, yes. Sorry, I know this seems sudden. But it's really not".
House swallowed. As usual, she was rapidly becoming wet. He felt her bunch his fingers together and massage herself aggressively, quickly. Her spare hand tugged her bottoms down slightly to create more space.
"Oh, yes…House. Keep a lookout. I just need to…do this…sorry. Won't be l-, long, my love. Sorry. I'm so…sensitive. Been too long. Do you mind?".
"No". he was looking closely at her, taking note of her little expressions, how her eyes screwed shut and her face flushed. Beautiful. The fact that she was apologising while getting herself off and yet had no awkwardness whatsoever made for a weirdly pleasurable contrast. He liked to think he knew his way around the female body, but he also knew that no woman knew herself like herself.
Several minutes later and Cameron had climaxed on his fingers, releasing a soft groan as she sank back into the seat. She opened her eyes, which were heavy-lidded and glazed. "Thank you", she whispered. "Thank you. I thought I was going to explode otherwise. It won't be a regular thing…but sometimes I have to…with you…to stay sane".
He retrieved his hand, slowly and deliberately licking his fingers clean. "That escalated quickly. Not that I'm complaining".
Cameron, meanwhile, swept hair from her face and looked at him as if nothing had happened. "So…burger and fries? Also, the others want to know if we're back together".