Name calling

A.N. In the series only Stacy and his mother, the two people he genuinely loves, get away with calling House 'Greg'. This chapter is a little bit silly but, I hope, not too out of character. This is the last upload for a bit as I'm away for a couple of weeks. Homework is for you to re-read the whole story by the time we resume!


The following evening Chase, Cameron, and Foreman were on the way back to Diagnostics having finally completed their department's entire quota of clinic hours, which covered this and the following week. House, of course, had demanded the fellows bear his load as payment for sharing the conference paper, but they too were not spared their own obligations. In truth, and for their own reasons, none of the doctors minded serving time in the clinic every now and then.

Cameron in particular, who regarded her job as a way of giving back to the community and helping those less fortunate than herself, frequently took on House's share even without being asked. She knew that he saw her kindness as an odd character trait, maybe even a weakness. But, as she had once told him, she knew to be grateful for what she received. And over the last few months, she had received a lot; not least, the man she loved. Clinic duty kept her grounded, and the medicine was simple enough that she could think about House without fear of losing focus.

"I'm gonna head off now", said Foreman as they neared the locker room. "Meeting an old friend from high school who's passing through Princeton. See you guys tomorrow".

Cameron and Chase carried on towards the office after waving goodbye to their colleague. "Can you imagine what Foreman was like in high school?".

"Good question", she chuckled. "He was either an absolute terror or a really studious egghead".

"Well, we know already that House hired him because he had a juvenile record. So I'm guessing the former".

"True", she conceded as they entered the elevator and the doors slid shut.

Chase glanced sidelong at the other. "Did House ever say why he hired you, then?". I hired you because you look good, like a piece of art in the lobby. She cringed internally, aware that the answer would inevitably turn the conversation towards attraction, a subject she tried to avoid with Chase.

Something Cameron had realised over the course of her adult life was how her words and deeds affected men in unintended ways. Chase was a textbook example. Early in her fellowship they'd treated a college guy whose condition had arisen during sex with his girlfriend. Her two male colleagues had laughed about it, and afterwards, as payback, she had confronted Chase with a needlessly graphic description of the female orgasm. It was only meant to make him uncomfortable, but he tried to ask her out later that very day, as if their chat had somehow signalled her interest. Not at all what she'd planned.

And then there was the one-night stand, an experience which had meant absolutely nothing. And yet Chase still expected more. Again, not what she needed. Even now, as they walked, Cameron could feel his eyes on her. This was something she endured because she knew he was harmless. Guys had always thought it necessary to make her attractiveness known, and there wasn't really anything that could be done about it. Men were so predictable. Except House. That man had been a puzzle from the beginning. He'd confessed she was lobby art, taken her to monster trucks, comforted her in the lab…and still denied her. No one had done that before. House was aloof in the most seductive way, unlike any other. He was enigmatic, strong, and frighteningly clever. Intoxicating.

"Cameron?", prompted Chase as they exited the elevator.

The woman, whose heart had quickened as a consequence of these thoughts, cleared her throat and revealed the truth, that House had declared her physical attributes to be the reason.

"Standard. Does it bother you?".

"Does what bother me?".

"His motive".

She shrugged, seeing no reason to lie. "It did at the time".

"And now?".

The pair were nearing Diagnostics. Cameron quickened her pace imperceptibly, hoping to reach the office and the end of this conversation. "Now, I've learnt to accept House for who he is".

"Fair enough. Just as long as you're sure".

Chase opened the door for her, but not before his companion fixed him with a keen look. "And if I'm not? You'll be there to catch me if I fall?".

He raised an eyebrow, sensing the tone. "I'm just making conversation. I'm your friend. I want you to be happy".

"Well, I am happy. But even if I weren't, I'm not your responsibility, Chase. And I'm not House's responsibility, either. I'm my own person, responsible for myself. As my friend I hope you can understand that". Cameron still hadn't crossed the threshold into the office. She wanted to be sure that he got the picture.

Chase flashed the apologetically boyish grin that charmed most women. "I hear you. Sorry if I breached a barrier. From now on, House is off-limits".

She nodded back, grateful for his concession, and they headed into the department. "Thanks. What are your plans for the evening?".

"Gym then bed, I reckon. I'm pretty zonked. You?".

Cameron glanced towards the adjoining office but the blinds were pulled across. "Guess I'll check in on House then head home myself. Got a good book on the go".

Chase had shrugged into his jacket and made his way back to the door. "Great. Enjoy!". With that, he left.

The immunologist went to the sink and drank a glass of water, thinking back over the conversation. Though she had initially been uncomfortable, it'd actually turned out for the best. Chase was now fully aware of the situation, and hopefully any further House chat had been pre-empted. Cameron knew her colleague to be a decent man. She supposed he just wasn't used to women saying no, and this was understandable. Having finished her water she rinsed the glass, cracked open House's door, and poked her head around it. "How's it going?".

The man had his headphones in and was typing away on the computer, completely oblivious to her greeting, since his back was to the door through which she'd just peeked. His desk was strewn with open books and journals, and there were sheets of paper everywhere, on which she could detect various scribblings. A cup of coffee rested atop a hefty tome whose spine revealed it to be a Russian dictionary. Oh, come on, she thought to herself, he does not speak Russian as well.

Cameron moved into the office undetected, unwilling to break his focus. "House?", she whispered.

No answer.

Maybe she should leave him to it. The quicker he finished his conference paper, the quicker she got to read it.

She was on the point of exiting stealthily when she had an idea. House had displayed a reluctance as far as pet names were concerned. But if he couldn't hear them, then there was an opportunity to experiment. Music blared in his ears and the keyboard clacked away.

"Hi, Greg", she said softly, testing the water.

No answer.

"Gregory. I'm talking to you".

Tap, tap, tap.

"Gregson", she tried, louder this time. "Hey, Greggles, are you ignoring me on purpose?". A laugh was stifled as she imagined calling House 'Greggles' to his face and for a split second it seemed as if he would turn around and spot her standing there.

Nothing.

House tabbed over to an article on his monitor before resuming his typing. Cameron could hear 'Gimme Shelter' by The Rolling Stones on his playlist. No way is he gonna hear me through that. "I think 'babe' works, even though you didn't like it before. What do you think, babe?", she muttered, trying hard not to giggle.

He sat back in his chair, humming along to the lyrics, hands clasped behind his head as he scanned the words on the screen. When Cameron was sure he was still unaware, she carried on her experiment. "Well, what about 'sweetie'? Meh, I don't like that", she added upon reflection.

House hunched over a book to the side, running his finger down the pages as he flicked through them. "Philosophical grounding…", he murmured to himself. "Diachronic applications…yes. Not just medical; not just here and now…too narrow. Think".

"Darling?", ventured Cameron quietly.

Tap, tap.

"Munchkin? No. Hmm".

House typed out a few lines before swearing under his breath and deleting the last. As before, Cameron waited for him to resume before she spoke again. "Honeybunch? Nah. You're not a 'honeybunch' are you, Gregorius? 'course you ain't".

Tappety tap tap.

"Maybe we're going about this all wrong. Maybe it doesn't need to be a traditional term of endearment. Let's see. You know I love your blue eyes, so why don't we start there? What about…Bluey? That's kinda good—not sexual but still pretty personal".

House tabbed over to another article and began muttering softly: "…dunno what the…fuck that…means, Igor. Moron. Write English, for fuck's sake…". He trailed off as he read, lost in thought.

She guessed he was grappling with a Russian paper in the second window on his screen. The headphones were playing 'Losing My Religion' by R.E.M. "I have to say", she whispered behind his back, "I'm liking Bluey. Or just 'Blue'? I think it's going to be a variation on that…or 'babe'. Is that OK with you, Gregtastic? Speak now, or forever hold your peace". After a few seconds of absolutely nothing, Cameron nodded and turned to leave, mission accomplished.

"Where are you going?", asked House casually, still tapping away at the keyboard.

The woman started in surprise. "Umm, House?".

"That's my name", he replied, removing the earbuds before spinning around in his chair and smirking at her. "Or is it?".

Cameron flushed with embarrassment. "Er, well, I, er…how much did you…er, hear?".

"Since 'Gimme Shelter'. Yeah, the fade out really came at the wrong time for you".

"Why didn't you say?", she asked, still feeling the heat in her cheeks which she tried to hide by running a hand through her hair.

"You seemed to be having fun". House got up from the seat and levelled his gaze at the other.

"Yeah, well, I feel pretty silly now. And why are you staring at me?". Cameron folded her arms crossly, annoyed that she'd been found out doing something completely childish. Attack was sometimes the best form of defence.

"Because you look sexy as hell when you're embarrassed", he said, walking towards her.

"Huh?". Of all the phrases he could have uttered in response, she didn't think that would be one of them.

"Yeah, I've noticed it for a while. When you're emotional your face tinges a little, your mouth opens, your hair gets messy, your nose twitches". House reached his partner, looking down into her eyes. "It's a massive turn on", he finished.

Cameron placed both her palms on his shirt and tilted her face upwards, allowing her manufactured antagonism to fade away. "Have I ever told you how weird you are?".

House grinned. "Once or twice".

"Good. Just checking". As Cameron was about to pull him into a kiss, a shadow flickered across his expression. "Are you alright?", she asked.

When the words came, they were far-off. "I've seen you embarrassed, angry, happy, jealous. I've seen your face light up with laughter one day and contort in sexual pleasure the next. But I've not seen you sad. I've not seen you cry".

"Because you've made me happier than anyone could ask for, House". Cameron's voice was low, aware that he was being serious. She could feel the slow beat of his heart beneath her right hand.

"But I will make you cry, Cameron, at some point, whether intentionally or not. I'll see tears running down your face and there'll be nothing I can say that will make it better. Do you understand that? I don't have happy endings".

Cameron brought a hand up to his cheek. "Do you remember what I told you out on that balcony", she jerked her head towards the window, "the night we started? When you asked me if I wanted this?".

"You said you knew what you were getting yourself into and that you weren't like my other girlfriends". House's eyes slid from her face to look at the floor.

"Yes. And do you know what's changed since then, over these last few months?".

"What?", he murmured, still refusing to meet her gaze.

Cameron lifted his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Nothing".

"You say that now, but-".

"-House, listen. No relationship is perfect, and I fully expect you to make me sadder than I'd think possible-".

"-that's exactly what I mean".

She held a finger to his lips, silencing him. "But I don't care, House. I don't care that, at some point in the future, I'll cry myself to sleep thinking of you. I don't care about the tears I'll shed as I say your name under my breath. These last few months I have been the happiest woman in the world. Because of you. And that's worth any amount of hypothetical pain in the days or months to come".

House processed these words, allowing the silence to build. Finally he sighed, but it was more a release of tension than anything else. The pair kissed for a few moments. "You're pretty good at this whole relationship thing, Camster", he breathed against her neck.

"Not really. I'm just pretty good with you, buster".

House grinned, before kissing her nose. "You can say that again".

"I'm just pretty good with you…babe", she whispered.

"Are you likely to let this go anytime soon?", he asked in exasperation.

"That'll be a big fat 'no' from my side of the aisle, Bluey", she retorted with a wink.

"I take it back. I think you'll make me cry…", he muttered, turning to the computer with Cameron's unguarded laughter in his ears.

"How's the presentation coming?", she asked once she'd recovered, surveying the scene.

"Not bad. Still needs a few more days' work. I'm struggling with expressing the philosophical underpinning". House sighed and rubbed his stubble, reaching out for her hand which she offered automatically.

"Philosophy in a medical paper?".

"Yeah", he replied, as if it were a completely normal combination, intertwining their fingers at the same time.

Cameron crouched down to peer over his shoulder at the screen, brushing against his face with her hair. "I guess you'll be working on this tonight, then?".

House breathed in discreetly, enjoying the subtle pineapple aroma which persisted despite it being late in the workday. "Mmm, sorry. I'm on a bit of a roll and I want to make progress while it's hot. Might be the same tomorrow night, too".

"You don't have to apologise, House. I think I'll be able to survive without you for a couple of evenings". She tilted her lips to his cheek, but he turned at the last second and met her in a kiss which deepened as he brought a hand up to caress the nape of her neck. "You're an excellent kisser", Cameron purred into his mouth.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathing harder. "Y'know", he said, voice thick, "how about I just postpone this for now and we go back to yours?".

"No, you were right the first time—you need to work". She whispered huskily in his ear: "I'll be here when you finish, House". With that, she liberated her hand and drew back, heading for the door.

"Greg", he said, clearing his throat.

"What's that?", she asked, turning back.

"You can call me Greg. If you want. When it's just us".

The other nodded. "What about 'babe'?".

"Let's start with 'Greg' in addition to 'House' and work from there".

The immunologist gave an elaborate curtsy and spoke in her Scarlett impression from across the room. "You betcha. Farewell for now, Greg".

House scoffed and gave a little shooing motion as she left. Following a moment or two's reflection he replaced his earbuds and stretched his hands, enjoying the residual warmth from Cameron's fingers. With a little shake of the head he refocused on the task before him. Time was marching on and there remained much to do.