Red right hand

A.N. Thoughts are with the people of Ukraine as they fight off invasion. I think House would feel similarly, given that in the show his wife Dominika is Ukrainian.


It took Cameron a few seconds to register the contact, and she pulled her hand back hurriedly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-", Charles began.

"-no, don't worry; it's OK", she smiled, somewhat flustered.

"I just thought-, y'know, last time we, er, had a moment. But if you're seeing someone, or if I've misread things, I'm sorry".

"No, you…didn't misread. I liked you, back then". And this was true. She had always found Sebastian attractive: strong convictions and a generous nature complemented his undoubted good looks. He wasn't House, of course, but no one was, and she couldn't wait forever. At some point, these simple facts needed facing.

"But not anymore?".

"Well, it's complicated. I'm not in a relationship, but I've just got out of one". The immunologist gently rotated her empty glass, using it as an excuse to avoid his eyes.

"Serious?".

"Yes".

Charles nodded. "I'm sorry for you. Did you end it?".

"It was mutual". Cameron swallowed gently, forcing down a well of unexpected emotion.

"Thanks for letting me know, and I'm sorry for putting you on the spot. But I just really enjoyed catching up and…yeah".

"It's nice seeing you, too", she murmured, still trying to master the unusual complex of feelings which had arisen suddenly.

"I don't have any hidden motive here, Allison. You know I like you. I'm only in town for a couple of weeks, though my flights aren't fixed yet. If you're game, I'd like to grab a drink, or buy you dinner. But if it's too soon, then that's fine. I just figured I'd ask".

"Can I think about it? I'm honestly not sure".

"Of course. Here, let me…". Charles flipped open his wallet and slid a card across the table. "These are my details. I'm staying in town. Maybe we can figure something out".

"OK". Cameron took it and placed it in her purse, next to the one from Genevieve Taylor in London, a reminder of a contact she had decided against pursuing. But circumstances had changed.

"Right", announced Charles, getting to his feet, "I need to head. Give me a hug, at least?".

"Sure", she smiled, embracing him again. He was much shorter than House and he smelled different. Such comparisons were unproductive, she knew, but also unavoidable.


"Mmm, yeah. Did you run it through billing?". Cuddy was in the middle of a conference call, one of several scheduled today. This call concerned the accounts of Vascular and Cardiology.

"I assure you, the proper procedure has been followed. I'm a stickler for such things".

Cuddy sighed under her breath and scratched at an ear. "Well, I've been in touch with the financial people and they're saying that the paperwork was not filed. So, somewhere along the line wires have been-".

The door to her office burst open and House marched in. "-I need those CVs you mentioned".

"I'm in the middle of a call…".

"Is everything OK, Lisa?", came the voice from her speakers.

House leant over so that his face covered the lens of the webcam. "Hold fire, dicks. Emergency. I need those CVs", he repeated to Cuddy.

"What CVs?", repeated Cuddy, muting the sound before he could insult any more staff members.

"The ones for Diagnostics. It's time to hire. I can't do it with just two fellows".

The Dean sighed loudly. "I'm in a call-".

"-do I look like I give a fuck? Where are they?". His tone was dark.

Cuddy, somewhat taken aback by the aggression, rooted around in the desk drawers and produced a wedge of papers. "Try and hire a woman".

At mention of the opposite sex, House's mind darted back to Charles holding Cameron's hand in the cafeteria; he had been smiling and she…well, the back of her head looked like it was smiling, too. "If a bitch stands out, I'll hire a bitch; if not, I won't". With that, he stalked from the room not thirty seconds after he had first entered, leaving Cuddy both offended and disconcerted.


Following lunch, Cameron went to the locker room to change in time for her afternoon shift, the meeting with Sebastian Charles still at the forefront of her mind. It had certainly been nice to see him. The man was an excellent doctor, kind, handsome, and they got on well; to the extent that he had asked her to come to Africa following his treatment at PPTH last year. She'd turned down the request for a number of reasons. Nice guys, hot guys, were all well and good, and she liked being around them as much as the next girl. But at the time Cameron had eyes for another.

Today, the situation was different. There were various aspects to ponder, and these occupied her thoughts while she fixed her hair into a serviceable bun.

First on the list: whether she even wanted to touch another man at the moment. The relationship with House had been all-consuming in the best possible way, as she had suspected and hoped it would be. He was single-minded, strong-willed, and completely endearing. Little habits like tugging his ear, looking down at the floor when he was nervous, playing with her hair, kissing her nose…all these personal idiosyncrasies remained etched in her brain. It would be hard to forget them. She didn't want to forget them, nor run the risk of someone else trampling over golden memories.

Second: although leaving Diagnostics had been a wise move, both personally and professionally, and a long time in the considering, this did not extend to actually beginning another relationship. That seemed like a step or three too far. Things still felt raw, she wasn't ready, and the situation with House remained somewhat confused.

Well, she thought, it's not confused. You're confused.

Third: even putting aside her own feelings on the matter, it surely wouldn't go down well with House himself. He had told her not to wait for him, but that'd been said in the heat of the moment the night of their split. If it came to pass that they would never again be together, then she could revisit circumstances as and when necessary. But, right now, just thinking about going out with another man made her feel guilty. If House were to roll up tomorrow, a woman on his arm, she could imagine experiencing crushing disappointment. To do that to him? No.

Cameron realised that she had been staring at herself in the mirror and made a token effort to straighten her blouse while the thoughts continued.

The pros: Sebastian Charles was an attractive person. Who didn't like attractive people?

Another pro: life lately had been decidedly one-dimensional, stuck between work and the apartment. But this was an opportunity to find a little happiness. And, while running in Chicago over Christmas, she had promised to be kinder to herself, to try and find a scrap of pleasure where possible. Perhaps a coffee with Sebastian would assist in meeting this personal objective. It needn't lead anywhere.

A sigh accompanied the slamming shut of her locker door. All she could do was focus on each day as it came. These introspections served only to increase her blood pressure and to amplify her doubts.

Just as Cameron was about to head across to the ER, her phone buzzed with an email notification and she quickly pulled it out. A message from Tiffany Kim:

Hi all, I've attached an initial draft of the article for our magazine. As you can see, I've tried to provide a more or less complete picture of Diagnostics while also building in your own specialisms. My editors are happy with this as is, but if any of you (Cameron could see that House, Foreman, Chase, and Cuddy were joint recipients) have concerns/comments regarding content, do please get in touch. I would need to know by next Friday. Otherwise, we're looking at publishing around Easter or shortly afterwards.

Cameron, heart hammering, skimmed the rest of the email and immediately opened the attached file. If Kim had kept in the unguarded confession of love for House then she would die of embarrassment. But as her eyes progressed over the words, the sense of foreboding slipped away. Thankfully, there was no mention of that unfortunate admission. The article looked good at first glance but she would have time to read it again later.

With a final pat of her tight bun, the immunologist headed over to the ER and the start of a long shift.


House sat in his office that evening having spent all afternoon going through CVs for a new hire. He had made around ten phone calls and sent a few emails to promising candidates, their expertise covering a wide range of areas. Just because Cameron was an immunologist didn't mean that her replacement also needed to be one. If everything went to plan he'd hold interviews next week and have someone in post before too long, depending on notice periods.

He reached automatically for the coffee mug. Upon finding it empty, he sighed loudly and sat back in the chair, looking at the ceiling. These staffing jobs had occupied his mind well enough. However, now that he had a little time to reflect, the thought arose that perhaps things were moving too quickly. Foreman and Chase remained completely in the dark regarding their soon-to-be-hired colleague.

But then the image of Cameron holding Sebastian Charles' hand replaced his feeling of doubt.

That fucking guy. Anyone but him.

It had been hard enough noticing their chemistry the first time around, and they hadn't even been dating back then. The prospect of witnessing her moving on with that insufferable moron, while he still felt heartsick, made his gorge rise. Suddenly House span around to retrieve the Macallan from behind the lupus textbook. But, like the coffee mug, it was empty.

"Who does a man have to screw to get a drink round here?", he spoke aloud.

The adjoining office was dark, the fellows having gone home an hour ago. Foreman mentioned something about Katie. And Chase had also let slip having met someone on a dating app. Everyone had places to be. Everyone except House, who was sitting at his desk trying to find a replacement for someone he had never wanted to lose.

That fucking guy. Sebastian Charles.

Hot anger bubbled up from the pit of his stomach. House knew himself to possess a fierce temper, knew that at times it gave even his friends pause. He tried to calm himself with deep breaths, attempting to crush the gnawing desire for a drink.

There were other ways to relax besides alcohol, of course. Scripts could be found; the pharmacy was just downstairs. It need not lead to anything long term.

Trust me, I'm a doctor. Vicodin is a proven aid for pain management.

No. Don't. Don't go there.

House jammed his thumbs into his eye sockets. A coffee would help take his mind off things. Before treacherous thoughts could intrude any further, he took up his mug and went through to the conference room and the kitchen area. The coffee pot needed beans.

Good start.

The nephrologist opened the cupboards above the sink. Without Cameron organising things, the various snacks and drinks had spilled over into neighbouring compartments. House spent a minute or two sifting through the detritus, shoving things to the side, searching for the packet. At last he located it and tipped the whole thing into the empty pot.

Nothing came out.

House picked up his mug and hurled it at the wall, the ceramic shards radiating outwards across the carpet, mixing with dregs of cold coffee. For many moments he stood there in the darkened office breathing quietly.

Eventually he reached down to pick up the largest piece of destroyed mug, holding it in his hand, as if inspecting a medical chart or a white board. With a deliberate slowness, he tightened his fingers around the shard, feeling its edges bite into flesh.

Only when he could take no more did he release his grip, dropping the shard into the sink. House hunched over the taps, observing the remnant dispassionately. Even in the gloom, he could detect on its fractured surface the bright red streaks of his own blood. The cuts on his fingers and palm began to weep.

Today had not been a good day.