Ode to a biscuit
A.N. I'm aware that the narrative recently has been very much a day by day affair (i.e. not much time passes chronologically). The reason for this is that I have a few events planned which I want to happen before a certain point in story 'time'. So, I'm being extra careful to leave myself enough space. The downside of this approach is that each entry reads kind of similarly, and things are pretty fluffy at the moment. Sorry about that. When's the fluff going to end…!?
Foreman and Chase were at breakfast the following morning discussing their plans for the conference. A truly international multi-disciplinary gathering, there were simultaneous panels over the three days, ranging from dermatology to dyslexia, and it simply would not be possible to attend each one. Aside from their own joint panel on Saturday afternoon, the diagnosticians were unlikely to see much of each other. Ordinarily no problem, Chase had been hoping to spend some time with Cameron this trip in an effort to gauge her affection for House. To be sure, the relationship between them seemed fairly secure, certainly lasting longer than he would have thought likely at the outset. All the same, if House did go AWOL for much of the conference, he wanted to be near the immunologist, just in case things were not as they appeared. Chase would never dream of intentionally breaking them up, of course; that was below the belt and in any case likely impossible. But it didn't hurt to be on hand.
"I'm liking the look of this paper: 'Neural neurology: a new approach'", murmured Foreman, who had pulled up the complete schedule on his phone. "Seems to be a Cambridge researcher. Weird I've never heard of him".
Chase smirked as he buttered his toast. "Dunno about you, but I'd take that as a bonus".
"Got your eye on anything?".
"Yeah; surgery roundtable after lunch. Did I ever tell you that Wildermuth was looking to take me on shortly after we lost the marine? Anyway, he emailed a couple of days ago suggesting I check out Cheng and Paulson's presentation on oral antibiotic preparation in elective colorectal surgery".
Foreman grimaced. "I know we're doctors and everything, but feel free to leave the details hazy while I'm trying to eat breakfast".
Chase merely shrugged, changing the subject. "You think House and Cameron are rooming together?".
"Probably", said the other distractedly, still perusing the schedule. "Reckon I'll check out the andrology panel as well".
"Man, you really are boring. What happened to your sightseeing plan?", teased the intensivist.
"I can't help it if my massive brain demands intellectual sustenance", retorted Foreman, pointing to his own head.
"I know you think you're House, right, but you're really not. Leave the ego trip to him. Speaking of…", muttered Chase as he scanned the breakfast room, "…the two lovebirds need to hurry up, else we'll have to head off to the conference without them".
Foreman sighed. "Let it go, Chase".
"Gee, I hope you're not about to give me women advice after I explicitly told you not to stick your beak in".
"Just sayin'", returned the other. "Just sayin'".
Cameron woke up that morning in unfamiliar sheets in an unfamiliar room. The only thing that was familiar lay right beside her, and she turned over to study House's face, listening to his steady breathing, tracing the rugged features with her eyes. It was the kind of thing she liked to do occasionally, as a sort of revision process, even if it made her feel a little sappy. The man himself would certainly think so. But then, if he was allowed to point out her attractiveness every so often, why could she not also carry out a similar exercise in her own head?
House had told her a while back, during the discussion before their first night together, that the physical stuff was not sufficient reason for a relationship. And he was absolutely correct. But it would be disingenuous to deny it any weight. House was a very handsome man, she thought. Despite it being nearly December, his skin retained a healthy glow, and he tanned easily in the summer. His limbs, though not 'gym' muscular were nevertheless firm, and they allowed him to move with a surprising grace which was all the more obvious now that a cane was no longer required. Then there were the eyes, the stubble, the messy hair, the frown lines and the cobwebs. Cameron had always preferred her men like this: windswept, lived in, rough around the edges. Chase's clean-cut model good looks fired the blood of many women. But she was not among their number.
Suddenly the alarm on the nightstand interrupted her reverie, and she quickly shut her eyes, pretending to be asleep—it would unnerve House if he woke up to the sight of her gazing intently at him. "Ughhh", he groaned into the pillow. "Just one more hour, Lord Jesus. I always knew you were a cool imaginary dude".
Cameron also stirred, reaching out to silence the alarm. "How did you sleep?", she murmured, suppressing a smile. In truth, she found House's allergy to mornings incredibly funny.
"Like a baby. And it's not over yet". With that he shut his eyes and fluffed up the pillow.
"No, we need to get up otherwise we'll miss registration".
"Nah. I'm still on American time".
"How about you snooze while I use the shower? Then we can switch". Cameron pulled back the duvet and made to throw her legs over the side.
But House's arm snaked across and hooked her bodily towards him. "Nah", he repeated, nuzzling her hair, allowing it to tangle in his face.
"Let me go, you". She made a token effort to squirm free, but his grip was tight, and the only thing the struggling did was cause him to harden against her butt.
House ignored her, instead biting her ear hard enough to draw a gasp. "I like how you smell in the morning".
"I need to…the, the others will be waiting for us", she whispered.
"Y'know what we didn't do last night? We didn't christen this room. Major oversight". After the drinks, both had flopped into bed, utterly exhausted. A sensible decision, especially since a (theoretically) full day of seminars awaited. But it did mean that the trip was so far, and unfortunately, sexless.
"Not sure we have time. If they haven't finished their breakfast yet, they will have soon. And I really do need to shower". Despite her mouth saying one thing, her hand reached around and grasped him through his pyjama bottoms.
"Well", murmured the other, slipping his own hand under the waistband of her shorts and teasing her entrance, "it goes against my massive ego, but I can be quick".
The woman sighed, a mixture of feigned exasperation and arousal, before flipping onto her other side to look into his eyes. "Fine, but we literally only have ten minutes, so you'll have to give me the short version now and a proper encore tonight".
House had already retrieved a condom from his wallet and was grinning back at her. "Gotcha. Tonight it is. You're in luck, since there's no balcony. But I'm sure we'll think of something to spice it up. Are we on for the British Museum later today?".
Cameron helped him kick off her shorts. "We're about to have sex and you're bringing that up?".
"They have a limited-time exhibition on Ancient Egyptian culture, and nothing gets me more excited than desiccated mummies".
"Not many women would find your sense of humour all that humorous", she remarked, watching him rip open the condom packet, the anticipation already building even though time was short.
House looked up momentarily. "But you do?".
"But I do", she affirmed.
An hour to an hour and a half later, the four diagnosticians entered the convention centre which was to host the conference for the next three days. The building lay amidst a complex of structures affiliated to University College London, and the lobby area was already full of medical professionals with plastic nametags milling about drinking coffee. They signed into the online system before picking up their own tags and welcome packs.
House already felt bored. "OK, kids", he announced, heading off to the drinks stand. "Daddy is gonna go visit the gaming arcades now. Remember: if you get lost, do not accept candy from strangers".
"Well, I guess if I don't see you at some of the panels, it'll be at our own presentations tomorrow". Foreman gave a little wink and headed off to introduce himself to a cluster of doctors gathered on the floor's edge. The neurologist was already in his element.
Chase remained next to Cameron. "S'pose you'll be spectating the immunology papers this morning, then?".
"Not quite. Cardiology. Someone I know from college is presenting in Hall Three at nine thirty. You?", she asked.
Chase repeated what he had told Foreman at breakfast before adding in a conversational tone: "you wanna meet up for lunch later?".
"Er, I think I'm already accounted for. If I'm not eating with House, it'll be with my pal. Sorry". Cameron felt a little guilty that she was letting her colleague down, but then shrugged internally. Keeping Chase company was pretty low on her list of things to do this trip.
"No worries. Enjoy yourself!". With that, the Australian also moved away.
Cameron watched him go with a small sigh. It never felt good to disappoint people, but there was not really much else to be done. If she had anything to say about it, these few days would be fairly simple: the time not spent in lecture would be spent with House, wherever he might be. That was the plan at least. But as ever it depended on the man himself, who was currently stirring sugar into his coffee with one hand while attempting to filch a second packet of biscuits from under the server's eagle eye with the other. Cameron wandered over. "How's it going, man?", she asked with a smile.
"Do we think you can pull off 'man' or nah?".
"I think so. It's just a case of normalising it through regular use. My plan is to seduce you at some point and then also throw 'babe' more firmly into the mix as well".
House snorted. "To answer your question: these British caterers are tyrants. Tyrants, I say", he repeated, loud enough so that the woman behind the counter looked up and frowned.
"Uhuh". Cameron ordered a coffee, which came with its own complementary packet of biscuits. She took one out for herself, popping it into her mouth before handing over the rest.
"I love you", he stated, wolfing down the remainder in three seconds flat.
"I'm glad you said that, because I need to introduce you to someone at some point today and you're not gonna like it".
House decided not to clarify that his declaration of affection had been directed at the biscuits rather than Cameron. Instead, he finished munching and replied while brushing crumbs from his fingers and glaring at the server belligerently. "Is it your secret lesbian lover from college? Because if so, I am totally on board, though I will need physical evidence".
"Actually, it is. You wanna meet her? I'm going to her talk at half nine, but we can get the how-do-you-do's done pronto, if you'd prefer?". Cuddy had asked Cameron to facilitate networking, and it was probably best to give House a softball start. The immunologist had spotted a familiar name on the conference flier a while back and sent a few emails in the lead-up.
"Bullshit", he murmured. "No way were you ever a lesbian".
Cameron took a sip of her drink, meeting his eyes, which had snapped back to her, levelly over the cup rim. "Not a lesbian", she agreed. "But everyone experiments at that age, don't they?".
House folded his arms, still refusing to believe it. Of course, he knew what she was doing. But he would play along on the off chance that it might be informative and/or arousing. "Lead the way, miss!".
Cameron did so, having scoped out Julia Wetherall's location upon entering the centre. The pair wended a path through the crowd, which was beginning to disperse for the plenary session. Before long they reached an attractive woman with wavy raven hair and grey eyes, and she grinned at the immunologist. "Well, well. If it isn't Allie Cameron. Blast from the past or what?".
"Julia Wetherall", she smiled back, embracing the other. "May I introduce Greg House? We're both in Princeton. Diagnostics".
Wetherall extended her hand, which House shook while eyeing up the packet of biscuits in her left hand. "Hello, Dr. House. I must say, your reputation precedes you".
"I didn't know my legend had reached South Africa. You gonna eat those?", he asked, nodding towards what on second viewing were mini chocolate shortbreads. And he only had the option of boring old plain flavour.
The woman offered him one without comment. More than likely she had been prepped by Cameron beforehand. "You have an ear for accents. Johannesburg. But presently of Liverpool. I'm looking forward to your joint panel tomorrow. So, Allie…".
Both women spent a few minutes catching up and House took the opportunity to actually check the conference schedule which he had fished out of his welcome pack. Little caught his eye, though there was a paper directly after the plenary on the use of artificial intelligence in medicine which looked promising. Apart from that, the nephrology and infectious diseases contributions appeared decidedly dull. Perhaps he could go along and demolish the speakers in question time. Or perhaps he could listen to the A.I. chat and just get to sightseeing. Decisions, decisions. But before they could be made, he needed a question answering.
"Sorry, just to butt in, Julia, but I note here that you're presenting soon…?". House plastered onto his face what he imagined to be a warm smile. It was always fun pretending to be a swell guy to complete strangers.
"That's right. Are you interested in cardiomyopathy?".
"I sure am. I actually had a question, if you wouldn't mind?", he queried, still maintaining an air of exaggerated politeness. Cameron tilted her head suspiciously but remained quiet.
Wetherall nodded in response, pleased to have caught the attention of such an eminent medical personality. "You're going to ask about the diagnostic potential in hypertrophic cases, aren't you?".
"D'you know, that's actually not far off, believe it or not, because my question is whether you actually did have a lesbian tongue wrestle with Cameron in college. See, I think she's talking a load of crap, but, yeah, I like to do my research when it comes to such things".
Surprisingly, the cardiologist took it in her stride. Rather than reply directly, though, she turned to Cameron. "Why are you telling your colleagues about something which happened over a decade ago?".
House's mouse promptly fell open.
Cameron, meanwhile, flashed him a glance before shrugging. "We're…not just colleagues, Jules".
"Huh. Interesting. But then I guess you always preferred to head off the beaten track, generally speaking".
"Wait, are you calling me ugly?". House turned to Cameron: "you never said this friend was a meanie".
"Exactly how old are you, Dr. House?", queried Wetherall.
"One hundred and eleven. I saw the Founding Fathers…of NASCAR. So. Lesbian. True or false?".
"True, for one night".
"Niiiice. Up high, babes!". House held out his palm to both women but neither budged. "If only Wilson were here…", he muttered.
"Oi", interjected Cameron, elbowing him in the ribs. "No spreading that around".
The man rubbed the area but still managed a goofy grin. "OK, OK. My lips are sealed. I do have one final question for you, Wetherton".
"Wetherall".
"Whatever. Threesomes: yea or nay?".
The cardiologist's eyes narrowed. "How much has Allison told you?".
"Not nearly enough".
"Well, let's keep it that way". At that, a bell sounded to signal the start of the conference and Wetherall quickly said her goodbyes, promising a proper catch-up later.
Both diagnosticians remained quiet for a moment, watching her go. At length, House piped up: "well, you were wrong".
"About what?", asked Cameron.
"Me not liking that conversation—it was fantastic, Allie". House nudged her shoulder playfully.
She blushed a little. "Yeah, well, as I said: you don't know everything about me, House".
"True enough", he agreed, stroking his chin. "You'll be off to Jules' paper then, hey? Girl on girl? Hot".
"Yeah, but the plenary's first. You?".
"I'll skip that, but there's a talk on artificial intelligence this morning I like the look of. Afterwards, I'm off to the city". House paused, glancing sidelong at the other as delegates brushed past them. "You, er, wanna come with? You didn't reply this morning. I was thinking maybe the British-".
"-I'd love that", she said quickly. The only reason she'd not replied was because she suspected it may have been meaningless pillow talk, so had not wanted to put him on the spot. "I'd love to visit the museum with you", she repeated with a smile before allowing herself to be swept along in the crowd.
"Cool. Meet back here at twelve?", he called over a sea of heads.
"It's a date!".
