Touch and go

AN. Valentine's Day comes just a little too soon for Hameron, but this is an extra long chapter, from several perspectives, to make up for it.


"Did House and Cameron seem off to you earlier?", Foreman asked Chase as they prepared to leave the hospital for the night.

Chase glanced at the other in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt. "Off in what way?".

"I dunno really. I'm just trying to decide whether things are still normal between them or if something's happened".

A shadow passed across the Australian's face. Though he had managed to quench the force of his feelings for Cameron, and though things were going well with Mathilde, the thought of his boss and colleague together caused a knot in his stomach. House was bad for her—why couldn't she see it? Why couldn't she see him? "Well, she still likes him. I suppose it's possible...". Chase trailed off, struck by a sudden idea. Perhaps he had been going about it all wrong. Rather than actively trying to prevent Cameron and House from getting together, maybe he should instead let it happen. That way it would burn out as quickly as it started, and she would realise that reality could never hope to live up to fantasy. And he would be there to pick up the pieces.

Foreman, taking the other's unfinished sentence as indicative of heartache, patted his friend on the shoulder. "Sorry, forget I said anything. I know this must be tough for you".

"Don't worry about it, mate. I've got Mathilde now anyway", Chase replied, slamming his locker shut with a little more force than was necessary. "I actually don't mind House, to be honest. I say if they like each other they should be allowed to see where it goes".

"You've changed your tune. Is Mathilde really as good in the sack as she looks?".

Chase smirked but refused to answer. "Look, if you want to investigate them, be my guest; but I'm coming to peace with the situation. Maybe you should, too. See you later. Half seven, right?".

Foreman nodded, watching as the other left the room. Something was up, either with House and Cameron, or with Chase. It was only a month or so ago that the latter had all but confessed his love for their colleague. Those feelings don't just disappear, girlfriend or no. Agendas were currently hidden. At some point they would emerge into the light.

He shrugged into his jacket, closed his locker, and left to prepare for the group meal.


Cameron was in her bedroom, wrapped in a towel, considering what to wear to dinner. There were many options. If it were just her and House, she could really have fun and pull out all the stops. She could make herself irresistible. But it wasn't just her and House, and this was not a date; this was a friendly meal with colleagues and House was, as far as everyone else knew, absolutely not her boyfriend.

He's not actually your boyfriend at all, Allison. Not yet anyway.

Her heart fluttered at the prospect of their forthcoming Friday date. That would be the time to make House's jaw drop. Until then, she would play it cool and conservative. The last thing she wanted was to entice Chase or flaunt herself before him unnecessarily. That would just be cruel, and she was not a cruel person.

On the other hand, she thought, thumbing through the hangers in her closet, there was nothing intrinsically wrong with dressing to impress when the chance arose. Her job afforded her so few opportunities to embrace her femininity. For one thing, hospitals were messy, busy places, and it simply wasn't practical to move much beyond pumps and pants. For another, her male-dominated environment had made her extra careful as to her wardrobe. She had nothing to fear from her immediate colleagues, of course, but the lecherous looks from other doctors and patients were never far away, especially if those patients (or doctors) were angry or felt that they had nothing to lose. It was an unfortunate reality but reality nonetheless.

She made the odd concession, though. The subtle eyeliner here or the laced bra there; the occasional button undone on a blouse. Nothing extravagant, but enough. Since House had signalled his interest, she had begun to do this more often, seeing what drew his eye, revelling in the knowledge that even something as simple as her clothes could cause him to stare and stumble. He was so strong, so weirdly unconventional, and yet for all his uniquely magnetic qualities, he was just a man, and she was just a woman. This was a comforting reflection which helped to ground the fantasy. Whatever complications arose in their fledgling relationship, as long as they remembered this basic biological fact, problems could be overcome.

Cameron's fingers alighted on the black dress to which House had alluded earlier in the evening. She looked back on that night with decidedly mixed feelings. As she had admitted to House recently, being picked apart in a restaurant was not an especially pleasant experience. In a way, she should have expected his reaction. She had learnt that House rarely responded well to direct questions, especially if he hadn't been offered any information in return. To ask him straight out what he thought of her was to invite disaster. Much better was to offer him something first and then say your piece. Their moment in the lab recently was a textbook example. He had come to her with a question, she had answered, then she had asked him a question and received an answer. Like an equation, it balanced itself out in the end, but only when both parties entered data. It was a useful way of conceptualising the situation.

But, uncomfortable psychoanalysis aside, that night had also confirmed to her that House had not been entirely truthful when he had first denied that he liked her. She saw beyond the superficial praise of her appearance that he had offered upon sitting down and looked into his eyes, his posture, the modulation of his voice. These were signs not even a man as clever as House could fake. And just now, he had finally confessed the feelings stirred up by the black dress, the feelings which she was convinced she had detected that evening. This was why she had pursued him even after innumerable rejections. Attraction wasn't everything but it was something. And now, finally, she had a way in. The black dress had done its job—she wouldn't be needing it tonight.


Foreman was the first to arrive. He was led to a booth against the wall and ordered a beer, scanning the place while he waited for the others. It was incredibly cosy. The ceilings were low and made of a heavy wood, giant beams crisscrossing at regular intervals. The light was soft and unobtrusive, casting parts of the dining area in shadow, and decorative pewter steins were fixed by the windows here and there. Faint orchestral music could be heard over the hum of conversation and the tinkling of silverware. The waitress returned with his beer and he took a long slug while he studied the menu, luxuriating in its quaintness. Everything was in German with facing English translation.

Next to arrive was Cameron, who had gone for an emerald green dress which ended just above the knee, and a smartly woven black cardigan. Wavy brown hair fell loose to her shoulders and there was a subtle makeup under her eyes. She had not bothered with lipstick, or if she had Foreman couldn't detect it. All in all, she was a picture of understated elegance. No wonder Chase liked her. He rose from his seat as she approached and kissed her on the cheek. "You scrub up pretty well, Cameron", he said, gesturing for her to take the bench opposite.

"Thanks, friend! I like your shirt".

Foreman acknowledged the compliment and handed her a menu.

Chase, dressed sharply in blue shirt and a narrow grey tie with matching blazer, was next to arrive. His unruly mop of blonde hair had been tamed somewhat. "Alright, muckers? What beer is that?", he asked, as he too kissed Cameron's cheek and sank into the bench next to Foreman.

"I've no idea", he replied. "I just asked the waitress what she'd recommend, and she suggested this. It's damn nice".

Chase nodded and tried to catch the attention of a server.

"You guys wanna take a bet that House doesn't show up?", Foreman asked.

"No way. The bloody menu's in German. He'd never pass up the chance to dazzle us with his linguistic ability".

Cameron perused the wine list. "He'll be here".

Foreman's eyes narrowed slightly. "What makes you so sure?".

"Female intuition. You wouldn't know anything about that, eh?".

"You say that, Cameron, but I've seen Foreman throwing a baseball and it definitely looks like the work of a female", Chase joked.

"Pff. You're just bitter after our baseball vs. cricket debate", retorted the other, swigging his beer.

"You're talking about cricket? I'm glad I decided to come now". House approached the table and the two men made to leave their seats before being waved down: "please don't. I thought I made my thoughts on handshaking clear last month". He shifted into the vacant place next to Cameron, removing his leather jacket and handing it to a hovering staff member.

Cameron had observed her boss during his exchange with the others and had been hard-pressed not to stare. His hair was characteristically messy and his distinctive stubble was back. But in place of a creased shirt, tatty jacket, and running shoes, he wore a suave navy blue blazer with a crisp white shirt open at the collar and a pair of dark dress shoes. She suspected it was the diminished light in the place but his permanent tan and black, greying hair, gave him a distinguished, almost Mediterranean, look. In that instant, he was breath-taking, and she hid her attraction by burying herself in a menu.

"Well, this is all very cosy, isn't it?", observed House as he glanced at the menu in Cameron's hands, keenly aware that their legs were touching beneath the table. He laced his hands and cleared his throat softly. "How'd you find this place, Formdog?".

"Drug rep".

"Huh, that must be nice for you, being the centre of attention. If I recall, the last rep you slept with was really after me".

Chase snorted into his beer but Foreman shrugged.

House smiled, appreciating the latter's sporting behaviour. "So, what looks good?", he asked, peering more closely at the menu held by his neighbour. The smell of her fragrant perfume hit his nose and caused another throat-clear. Cameron could see House looking and tilted it towards him, enabling him to see the English translation, but he murmured a quick: "no need, but thanks". Without thinking he patted her leg under the table but quickly caught himself and brought his hand back to the wooden surface. Cameron wished it hadn't moved.

At length they ordered and drank whilst waiting for the food. The conversation began haltingly but gradually picked up as the three colleagues acclimatised to having the boss in their midst. It was a strange situation. They were all entirely comfortable with each other in the cut and thrust of the hospital, but in the close formality of a restaurant things were different. The circumstances weren't helped by the fact that two of the diners were trying desperately to keep their feelings for the other under some semblance of control. House intentionally kept glances to a minimum and his odd joke at Cameron's expense brought laughter and ensured things remained light. His latest effort, which welcomed the food's arrival, had even the reserved Foreman laughing. Cameron pretended to be offended, but under the table her hand slipped to his knee, and he covered her fingers with his own, remaining like this for as long as they dared.

The conversation flowed more easily as glasses were emptied and refilled. Cameron and Foreman discussed the merits or otherwise of Chicago pizza while House and Chase engrossed themselves in cricket chat. Though Cameron devoted much of her attention to the neurologist, she always had half an ear on the conversation of her colleagues. She wasn't a sports fan, and the little she did know about cricket hardly screamed excitement, but it clearly captivated House, who spoke animatedly on the relative merits of Australia and England. What she really wanted to know was when and where he picked up this interest. She resolved to ask him about it when they were alone, and her fingers returned once more to House's hand which had dropped to his lap. Foreman had shown no sign that he was aware of their covert hand holding, and in that moment she didn't care. The thought of being with House was becoming more familiar with every passing day, though she supposed that they should at least venture on a date or two before going public. And this was not a date.

But she could still have some fun.

On the spur of the moment, and whilst still maintaining conversation with Foreman, Cameron took House's hand and placed it on her bare knee. The latter was in the middle of discussing the strengths of Australia's bowling attack and seemed barely to notice the change. Let's see if he notices this, she thought to herself. Cameron waited until Foreman finished his point and went for a drink of beer. With a quick glance around, she noted that there were no serving staff or fellow diners nearby. Perfect. She once more took House's hand in her own and carefully guided it under the hem of her dress. This movement did cause House to turn to her with an enquiring look, though he said nothing, aware that Chase was watching. She met his gaze impassively, daring him to pull away. They had agreed to play it cool, but she wanted to see just how cool he could be under pressure.

House turned back to Chase while Cameron asked Foreman how his brother Marcus was faring in jail, hoping to provoke him into a lengthy monologue. Wish granted. Emboldened by the fact that he hadn't moved away, she took a fortifying gulp of wine and guided House so that his entire hand rested under the silk, just above her knee. Then, inch by inch, she moved him upwards. Cameron took another sip of wine and attempted to slow her racing heart. This was the most daring thing she had ever done. Foreman said something and was looking like he expected a comment; she nodded and hummed, hoping it would be a satisfactory response.

Meanwhile, House's fingers danced across her skin and he seemed momentarily lost for words as Chase prompted him: "well?".

"Well what? Sorry, I spaced out a bit there. Must have been your accent", House muttered, glancing at his female companion out of the corner of his eye.

"D'you think Josh Hazlewood is a better bowler than James Anderson?".

"Err, yeah, look it's a tough one...". House proceeded to discourse on the merits of both players, but his mind was well and truly elsewhere. Cameron would have smirked if only she hadn't been trying to mask the signs of her own arousal. His hand progressed slowly on its journey: long, calloused fingers in contrast to the smooth skin of Cameron's upper thigh. Again, she looked round surreptitiously as if observing the décor but really to check that they were still safe from prying eyes. As Foreman took another swig and excused himself to the bathroom, she glanced down to see that her clothing had crumpled somewhat yet still fully covered their movements.

Meanwhile House was trying desperately to act like he didn't have his hand up his subordinate's dress in a public place, which was easier said than done, and he leant forwards towards Chase so as to keep attention on his face. House had come to appreciate that Cameron wasn't quite as timid and reserved as he'd initially thought, but this was something else entirely. She was bold and brazen. It was a massive turn on. Still, he couldn't allow this to continue, not in front of Chase, who seemed completely oblivious as he waxed lyrical about the Australian batting order. He was on the point of removing his hand until he heard Cameron sigh deeply beside him. He chanced a glance—her eyelashes flickered, and he could detect a flush on her cheeks as she spread her legs a little and looked at him. Her green eyes were jet black in the shadow of the booth and her mouth was open slightly. Beautiful, he thought, turning back to Chase and making a noise of agreement.

House had reached Cameron's inner thigh. He was so close to where she wanted him most, and he could feel the heat radiating from her core. Before he could complete his journey, however, a waitress came back to collect the plates and ask how they'd found the food. This brought them both back to reality and House withdrew his hand with such speed that if the light hadn't been so subdued, he would have been found out at once. As it was, Chase was caught up talking to the attractive waitress and Foreman had yet to return from the bathroom.

House breathed a sigh of relief as his heart hammered in his chest. Cameron, too, looked flustered but excited. "Hey, Chase", he croaked, "go and check on homie. He's been gone a while and I need to know if I have to look for another neurologist".

"What? No, you go. We're off the clock and I'm chatting to Amelie here".

House glanced at the woman. "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?".

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she smiled. "Ja, natürlich. Meine Mutter kommt aus Berlin".

"Wunderbar!". House leant back while he considered what to say. Cameron and Chase looked at him warily. He stifled a grin and tried to look serious. "Dieser Mann war letzte Woche noch eine Frau. Das lange blonde Haar ist ganz natürlich, wenn Sie wissen was ich meine…". [This man was a woman last week. That long blonde hair is entirely natural, if you know what I mean]. He looked straight at the woman as he spoke, brutally suppressing the urge to laugh—he needed to really sell it or it wouldn't work.

The waitress' smile at a fellow German speaker froze on her face as she glanced from House to Chase, her eyes drifting involuntarily to his hair. A consummate professional, she quickly regathered herself and asked if they wanted dessert.

"Would you like dessert, Cameron?", he asked.

"No, I'm done. I couldn't eat another bite".

"OK, I'll go get your check", the waitress said, hurrying off.

"Now could you go check on Foreman?", House asked.

"I've no idea what you said, House, but-", Chase started, folding his arms.

"-relax. I simply told her that you were with another person and that you'd break her heart eventually. That's true, right? Or what would Mathilde say?".

Chase sighed but nevertheless moved off to find his errant colleague.

As soon as he was out of sight, House and Cameron kissed deeply, disregarding the looks from neighbouring tables. Eventually they broke apart. "What brought that on, huh? We could've been caught", he asked softly.

"I was tired of your cricket chat, House. I had to take matters into my own hands". Cameron smiled at him. "Your face was priceless, and Chase didn't have a clue".

"Hmm. I'm not complaining, but it was your idea that we should act normal tonight. That was not normal".

"Normal is boring", she breathed.

"Normal is boring, but we haven't even been on a date yet". House brushed her cheek gently.

"Mmm". Cameron nuzzled against his hand. "Well, maybe we can count this as a date. You nearly got to third base there". Her eyes sparkled as she remembered the feeling of House's hand on her skin. With a final peck on the lips, they relaxed into the leather and waited in comfortable silence for their colleagues to return. Suddenly Cameron asked: "what did you tell that woman about Chase? Her face went completely white".

House turned back to her, his mouth curving into a smile. "Oh, nothing. Just that Chase may have been a female up until a few days ago".

For all of a second, she said nothing, only staring at the other in disbelief. Then she started laughing. House joined in and, before long, both were doubled over in hysterics, tears streaming down their faces.