Mischief managed
A.N. How's about a chapter to kick off this new Caroline era (Carolus = Charles)?* May it be less eventful than the last Caroline era, which saw the colonisation of North America (Carolina, Charleston, etc.) and the English Civil War! The Carolingian dynasty beats them all, though. I just love history, sorry. On with the story...
*Edit to add that the Powers That Be are calling it the Carolean era, not Caroline. Interestingly, 'Carolean' was used to refer to the reign of Charles II (r. 1660–1685) to distinguish it from that of his father, Charles I. Given that Charles I met a sticky end, this terminological preference for Charles III's tenure is understandable.
Having dropped House off for his rehab session and attended the catch-up meeting with certain colleagues in the ER, Cameron headed to the cafeteria for a coffee. She toyed with the idea of going up to Diagnostics to say hello, but decided against it: not least because, even if she had spare time at the moment, that didn't mean the fellows did. Indeed, the little she had gleaned from various people suggested it was very much a case of 'full steam ahead' under Foreman's leadership. This was unsurprising; he had always been ambitious. Though he would never say it out loud, she suspected that he secretly relished the opportunity afforded him by the accident. The interesting thing concerned what might happen once House recovered. Would Foreman accept slipping back into the ranks? Doubtful.
Cameron took her coffee to a table and retrieved her book from her handbag. Resting it on the table, she glanced around the cafeteria, taking in the mid-afternoon scene. Only half full following the post-lunch rush, nobody met her eye; not even a hopeful male doctor looking to score.
I've missed this place.
Yes, she had missed coming into work every morning.
And yet she had got to live with House for an extended period of time; had got to float once again in his orbit; had got to contribute to his ongoing recovery.
I've missed this place. But I've gained so much more.
Content with this train of thought, Cameron took up her book, flipped it open to her page, and began to read. But before she had reached the end a familiar voice came from over her shoulder: "Romans again?".
"Sebastian, hi", she smiled. "Won't you join me?". Though they had seen each other since she had shot him down in a fairly brutal fashion, not least when she had come in to retrieve House's books, this was their first opportunity to speak at leisure. As far as she was concerned, everything was water under the bridge. That immediate period post-House's crash had been a stressful time and she saw no reason to perpetuate the bluntness forever.
"Sure". Evidently they were both on the same page, and his smile looked genuine. "How's it going?".
"Oh, fine. Just came in to take House to his rehab and go to a couple of meetings".
"Sounds fun", he replied, sipping from his paper coffee cup.
"Yeah, right. It's weird. I swear I've been to more meetings working from home than if I were just in the ER as normal".
"That is weird", he laughed. "But I know the feeling. These days I'm less a doctor and more a politician going to and fro, canvassing voters…".
"I guess you can't just say: 'TB is bad. Now give me your money', can you?".
"Unfortunately, no. That would make things so much easier. The conference helped, though; got the word out".
"I caught some of it online. Cool that you were able to broadcast it".
"Yeah", he nodded. "I mean, the whole shtick has always been accessibility to medicine, so it sort of plugged into that. We had a good number of attendees from the African continent who wouldn't otherwise have come if they'd have had to trek to Princeton".
"Mmm".
"I wanted to thank you, by the way, for convincing House to contribute. Unsurprisingly his talk was the most popular".
"Ahh". She waved a hand in the air. "Dunno how much I did, really. House tends to do what he wants, when he wants".
"Cuddy said the same thing when I asked for her input: 'House does his own thing'. Yet the two women in his life make a request and, lo and behold, he does it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he had a soft spot for you guys".
Cameron inclined her head modestly but didn't dispute the observation. In any case, she got the sense that he was building up to something.
She didn't have to wait long.
"So, about last time…", he began.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't particularly pleasant to you".
"Please". Now it was his turn to raise a hand. "I know where it came from. And I'm a big boy".
Cameron appreciated the man's grace and nodded slightly. Even in adults an equable maturity could never be underestimated or taken for granted, especially in matters of the heart. She herself, often to her acute embarrassment, battled bouts of intense jealousy.
"Can I ask you something?", he asked with a tinge of trepidation. The coffee cup placed on the table went through a couple of rotations as his fingers refused to settle.
"Sure".
"I just have to know…if House didn't exist…would we have had a chance?".
She took a sip of her own drink, thinking about how to frame her answer. Eventually she replied: "I'd think so, yeah. You tick a lot of my boxes, that's for sure".
"But not enough of them", he prompted.
"It's nothing you did or didn't do, Sebastian. And I really mean that. You're a great guy. It's just…".
"…not meant to be".
"Is one way of putting it, yeah".
Charles set aside his cup and laced his fingers together on the table. For the first time in a couple of minutes he met her eyes. "He was the relationship you'd just got out of when I spoke to you my first day back here?".
"Yes".
"You really love him, don't you?". Though a question, it emerged as a statement.
"I really do. More than I've loved anyone".
This frank admission hung in the air between them.
"Then, forgive me for saying this, but why the hell are you not together right now?".
Cameron had not expected such an observation and found herself scrambling for the right words: "well, y'know, guess I just–, we–, sort of, agreed to stay apart while House was recovering. Y'know, so that he could fully focus on that with, uh, no distractions". For the first time since they had decided on this course of action, the explanation felt flimsy. As if speaking it aloud to someone else had stripped the justification of its weight. An unsettling feeling, to say the least.
"Uhuh". Charles looked at her with a weird expression on his face.
"You think I'm a moron".
"I think…that your heart's in the right place", he smiled lopsidedly. "But it's not my business, so…".
"No, go ahead", she gestured with her finger for him to continue.
"Well, since you're asking, I appreciate where you're coming from: minimising distractions is an actual thing. But if you love House as much as you say, I don't really get why you're wasting time. Life's short, y'know?".
"Mmm". Cameron's gaze dropped to her now empty cup as she thought on his words. The feelings of lovesickness she had experienced at the movies came back to her. Certainly, this period of time apart from House had been challenging. As she had reflected more than once, it was the combination of being near him but not being with him.
"Just something to think about", he shrugged.
"Yeah, thanks", she muttered, still distracted.
"Listen, now that the conference's done, I'm heading back to my work in Africa".
"Oh?". Cameron looked up.
"Yep. So I guess it's goodbye for a while, hey?". With that he drained his coffee and rose to his feet.
Cameron did likewise and the pair embraced, she resting her chin on his shoulder.
"House is a lucky guy", he grinned. "A lucky, lucky guy. You know I hate him, right?".
The immunologist laughed and punched his shoulder gently. "I really hope you find everything you're looking for, Seb".
"Same to you", he smiled. "And sooner rather than later. Time's a' tickin'. Know what I mean, Dr. Cameron?".
"I know what you mean, Dr. Charles. Thanks".
A final wave, then he was gone.
When Cameron made her way to the therapy suites later that afternoon, she was annoyed to find that Fiona Townsend was already there, mid-conversation with both House and Carter. Today the administrator was wearing a pencil skirt, a light pink blouse, and had her vivid red hair tied back in a ponytail. Though she had received no formal confirmation of this, Cameron believed that she secretly (or not so secretly, given the way she was currently leaning towards House) harboured a crush on the Head of Diagnostics.
Cameron forced a smile and entered the suite. "Hey, guys. How was your rehab?". Though she had ostensibly addressed the group, she looked solely at her roommate.
"Tough", grunted House, casting his eyes to the floor forlornly.
"Still early days, of course, but Dr. House is making strides", nodded Carter. "His gait is already showing signs of improvement".
"Yeah, right", he snorted. "Putting one foot in front of the other-".
"-is tangible progress", noted Carter patiently. "Anyway, I'll see you for next week's sessions". Now she addressed Cameron: "I've spoken to Dr. House, and emailed both of you, regarding some light exercises you guys can do together at home. Nothing too strenuous, but they'll help bridge the gap between meetings and facilitate recovery".
"OK, thanks…what's your first name, actually?", asked Cameron, who had moved over to stand next to House.
"Carmela".
"Carmela Carter. CC", mused House, glancing pointedly at the three women around him. "C…C…hmm. No one here, unfortunately".
"Are you referring to cup size?", Fiona piped up.
"Who's asking?", smirked House, though soon inclining towards Cameron. "Let's head. Need to drop in on Wilson before food. I'm hungry".
"Here". Townsend passed him his cane, which had been resting against a wall. "As I said before, though, my father and I are more than happy to help you out in whatever you need during this phase of your recovery".
House nodded tightly and, after a final gesture of farewell from Cameron, they both left the suite, leaving Townsend and Carter talking together.
"What's their story?", Cameron managed as they walked slowly down the corridor, his cane squeaking rhythmically on the floor.
"No idea. Townsend only came in just before you; said they were subsidising my care. So couldn't really ask her to leave".
"That's nice", she admitted.
"Yeah. This entire medical system is a complete joke. Reminds me of Vogler: 'this new ACE inhibitor is a breakthrough and will protect millions from heart disease…'".
"'…and will make millions of dollars. Good for everyone, except those who have to pay'", she finished with a smile. House was quoting from the speech Vogler had forced him to deliver a couple of years ago regarding a new drug that, as it happened, was not that new at all. It didn't take long for him to point this out to a room full of people, among whom were the three fellows, Cuddy, and Wilson.
"So you did listen to my speech", he exclaimed triumphantly.
"Would we call it a speech? Seemed a bit short for a speech", she grinned. "That evening was my first time in your place".
"My first place. Moved to Baker Street shortly after to escape Vogler's assassins".
"Stood outside your door for two minutes I was so nervous".
"Dunno why. I don't bite".
"Really?". They reached the elevator and Cameron punched for the fourth floor and Wilson's office.
"I believe that of the two of us, you're the only one who has done any biting".
"What? No", she replied as they walked in and the doors slid shut.
"You don't remember? I was standing in front of the mirror and you-".
"-OK, yes, yes", interjected the immunologist hurriedly, feeling her cheeks flush. This reference to one of their more adventurous nights together made her realise that she had not had sex for a long time. She could feel House's eyes on her.
"I like it when you get embarrassed", he said, leaning against the internal railing.
"Because you're weird, weirdo".
House sniffed airily but didn't answer back immediately, waiting until the elevator reached their floor. "I wanna drive by Diagnostics", he said at length, changing the subject.
"They're on a case; saw Chase earlier". The Australian had arrived shortly after Charles' departure this afternoon and the pair had shared a conversation. For once, Cameron hadn't detected any latent feelings on his part. Perhaps, hopefully, that ship had sailed for the last time. Dealing finally with Charles and then Chase on a single day…
It felt like she was putting a few issues to bed.
"Exactly. The office'll be empty. Come". House pointed down the corridor and they walked in silence until reaching the department. He pushed open the door with his cane and looked around. Cameron did, too.
Nothing much had changed.
"Nothing much has changed", she said, sitting on the desk, coincidentally next to the correspondence tray which used to be hers but now belonged to Thirteen.
"Mmm". He ambled over to the kitchen area, rifled through the cupboards, and emerged with the coffee beans, cookies, and the little wooden stirrers.
"What the hell are these called, anyway?", he asked, brandishing the stirrers in her direction.
"The wooden stirrers?".
"Yeah".
"Wooden stirrers. What are you-?".
"-d'you bring your handbag with you?".
"Left it in my locker. What's up?".
"Nothing".
Cameron looked at him warily. "House, I can tell you're up to something".
"I'm not up to anything, Allison". Nevertheless, he stuffed the cookies into his pocket, along with the stirrers. The coffee he held wordlessly out to her.
"Yes?". Arms folded, she acted oblivious.
"Just hide this under your top or something. We need more coffee at home and the hospital owes me".
"House, you're being insane".
"No. I'm being resourceful. Take it". He shook the beans right in front of her face until she sighed and grabbed it. "Good, good; yes, excellent", he continued. "They'll never know it was us. Next room, Short Round!".
Now he disappeared into his office, leaving no choice for Cameron but to follow. She shook her head and smiled to herself. Truly, his enthusiasm for mischief was infectious.
"Well?", she demanded, sinking into the easy chair as he went to his desk and woke the computer up from standby.
House frowned at the screen. "D'you know Ice Cube's password?".
"No, sorry".
"Dammit. This guy's taken over my office and my PC".
"What can you do?". House's annoyed face presented a cute picture and she smiled again.
"Dunno. Any suggestions?".
"You could, uh, rearrange his pens?".
The look of crushing disappointment he threw her at such a lame prank idea compelled an instant apology.
"It's OK", he spoke sympathetically. "I know you try".
"What's your plan, then, genius?".
"Hmm, hmm, hmm…", House span around on the chair slowly, "…issue is that this is my office so I can't do anything too drastic. If this were Wilson's space I'd just sabotage the chair and film it or something".
Cameron nodded, catching his eye each time he completed a full rotation. House always looked hotter than usual when he was deep in thought. It took a little effort now to remember exactly why this was, but she presumed that the physical dimension (the messy hair, blue eyes, stubble, and, in the right months, semi-permanent tan), combined with the knowledge of his razor-sharp intelligence and endearingly dry wit, had something to do with it. "You know how dogs leave their scent everywhere to mark their territory? You could do that".
"Huh". House stopped spinning and lost himself in a trademark thousand-yard stare. "In comes the Camsternator with the knockout blow".
The immunologist got to her feet and performed an elaborate curtsy. "You're welcome".
"So I should take a leak in the corner. Really establish dominance?".
"Or", she held up a finger, "and this is radical, I admit: you don't do that, and instead do something less gross".
"Leave boogers under the desk?".
"Was thinking more along the lines of rubbing your shirt on the keyboard or something; maybe spraying some cologne around".
"Do you have any with you?".
"No", she conceded.
"I think your idea is good in principle", announced House, getting to his feet. "But in practice it's not daring enough". With that, he began untying his tracksuit pants, still on from the rehab earlier.
"House!". Now it was Cameron's turn to bolt upwards. "I said nothing gross-!".
"-oh, relax, matron; just gonna…hey, turn around".
"Why?". She stood with hands on hips.
"I'm shy. Psst". He made a spinning gesture with his finger and she relented, turning slowly round to face towards the hallway. Fortunately the blinds were pulled across.
"This is a bad idea…", she muttered. She could hear the ruffle of clothes but remained true to his instructions not to look. "You'd better still have your clothes on, I swear to God".
"I thought you didn't believe in God".
"It's a figure of speech. As you well know".
"You can turn round now".
She did. House was retying his pants.
"Shall we?", he asked cheerfully after a moment, moving towards the door. "Wilson's waiting".
"What did you do?". Cameron's tone was suspicious.
"Nothing gross. There was no 'skin to desk' or 'skin to chair' contact".
"But…?", she prompted, opening the door for him and following him out into the corridor.
"You ever gone commando? Quite liberating, I feel, letting it all hang natural the way Jesus intended. Sure, there's a bit of a breeze down there now, but it's kind of pleasant, y'know?".
It took a few seconds for Cameron to understand the implication of his words. "Oh dear", she managed, looking apprehensively back into the office.
