The third degree

A.N. There are some good chapters coming up.


Cameron arrived at the bar, ordered herself a glass of red wine, and went to find a table while she waited for the others. The place they had chosen to meet was located in central Princeton close to the apartment, albeit she had never been there. Looking around as she sipped her wine, it had a chilled, artsy vibe, with contemporary paintings on the walls (a closer look at the nearest, an abstract of greens and golds, revealed it to have been created by a local college student) and floors of what looked like reclaimed wood. Money For Nothing by Dire Straits, an English rock band from the eighties, played over the sound system.

She took out her phone, idly flicking through the news headlines. Past experience taught that it paid to look busy in case some random guy caught her eye and took the initiative. It had been a while since she had sat alone in a bar. In fact, it had been a while since she had sat in a bar, period. The last time may actually have been out with the ER crowd shortly after leaving Diagnostics. And that night had not gone well at all, thanks to an individual whose name she would not even deign to think.

Her phone vibrated with a message, and the name appeared of a person about whom she loved to think regularly. This lifted her temporary despondency.

You get there OK?

Uhuh, she typed back. Though I'm the first one here.

Shocking. So, question…

Cameron could see that House was typing and waited patiently. His next message contained a captioned image.

what are you meant to do when the treadmill starts displaying this?

Ah, she typed back. You gotta switch it off and on again. Only way.

Right.

She felt a pang of regret that he was exercising without her and rapidly typed out her reply. Not fair that you're running while I'm stuck here :(

Well, was gonna surprise you and be all sweaty when you got back. But your stupid machine screwed me over.

Cameron smiled to herself, took a sip of wine, and sent her response. It can sense you cheating on me.

You remember the things you need to ask?

Now she rolled her eyes. House had cornered her while she was combing her hair this evening and given her a verbal list of conversation bases she was to hit with Foreman, Chase, and (ideally) Thirteen. Most of them concerned boring work matters: how the department functioned, the caseload, et cetera. A couple were for if Cameron found herself in a position to talk to any of the three individually. When she had asked how she was to achieve this naturally, House had told her to follow Thirteen into the bathroom, 'like you people always do' (presumably 'you people' in this instance meant 'some women'). When, as a follow-up question, she had asked his solution for the guys, he had suggested 'dragging them into an alleyway seductively'. As just now, she had rolled her eyes.

Nope, no idea, she replied. I'm blonde, remember?

I don't appreciate the attitude, BB.

Before she could think of a comeback, however, a female voice came from over her shoulder: "hi, Dr. Cameron".

Cameron looked up and saw Hadley. "Oh, hi. I wasn't sure if you'd make it. Please, sit".

Thirteen slipped out of her coat and hung it over the back of a chair. "I figured I'd come. We don't tend to do much as a department, so…".

"Makes sense", she smiled.

"I'll just grab a drink. D'you want a refill? Get the round in before Chase and Foreman arrive and then it's not our problem".

"Smart. I can see now why House hired you. I'll take another glass of the Merlot, please".

"One of the reasons why he hired me", chuckled Thirteen. "Be right back".

Cameron gave an amused snort and returned to her phone. You get the thing working?

The reply came quickly. Yeah. About to start. If you find me creased up dead on the floor, please ensure that Wilson doesn't get the TV.

She grinned to herself and threw him a haha x.

Thirteen set the wine down on the table. "Good conversation?", she asked.

"Only House. Cheers".

The pair clinked glasses.

"Yeah? How's that going? I was surprised when you logged in with House to consult on our case a while back, but Eric said you were helping with his nursing?".

Cameron noted the use of the first name. "That's right. He had an issue with the guy originally assigned, so I figured I'd volunteer myself and make sure he was taken care of".

"Nice of you".

"Guess so", she shrugged. This was the second time someone had said it was nice of her, as if it were she getting the raw end of the deal. But the opportunity to live with House and be with him felt like a more than fair trade. Plus, she had always preferred his apartment to her own.

"Listen", said Thirteen, fixing her with pale grey eyes. "I hope you know it was never my intention to butt in on your job or whatever. I literally just went along to my interview and was hired straightaway".

Cameron held a hand up. "Please. I'd already left. I certainly hold you no animosity—the department was short-staffed, and you came in. End of story".

"Cool", she smiled. "Just wanted to check".

"Speaking of the department", Cameron could virtually hear House's voice in her head as she prepared to ask this question, "are you settled in up there? I know disruption is never easy, especially for a new hire".

"House ask you to ask that?". Thirteen gave a little smirk before sipping her wine.

The immunologist chuckled softly into her glass. This always happened when she tried to be sneaky and subtle. Last year House had sent her out to talk to Mathilde, Wilson's girlfriend at the time, but she had been rumbled within three seconds of first contact. And House said she had a trusting and caring face. Yeah, right. "Hell, no. He wanted to know if you were a lesbian. But I thought I'd, like, not ask that and instead ask something relevant. And, y'know, not offensive".

"I appreciate your tact. But I'm not precious about it. You can tell him that I like guys as much as girls. You?".

"Just guys", she replied, slightly flat-footed by the direct question. She figured it probably wasn't the time or place (or person) to reveal her one night of experimentation at college with Julia Wetherall, whom she had met again in London.

"Guys are hot", nodded Thirteen. "But sometimes you need a woman to hit the right spots".

Cameron could feel herself blushing and tried to hide it by taking a drink.

"Sorry; didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Just thought that House would like to know".

"I'm sure he would", said Cameron, regathering herself. Though she was by no means a prude, she really hadn't anticipated this discussion topic with someone she barely knew, even if they had spoken a little when Thirteen had visited House after his crash.

Thirteen leant forwards in her chair. "To answer your question, the job's going well. Foreman and Chase are…interesting co-workers. Though I guess Eric is technically my boss rather than colleague at the moment".

"True enough", agreed the immunologist. "I guess he's been in place longer than House for you, huh?".

"Mmm. But even so, I experienced House enough to know that the two of them have radically different styles".

"Yeah? Something about Foreman suggests he would be a bossy boss".

"You'd be right there", chuckled Thirteen. "He likes overseeing everything himself".

The two women spoke about work-related things while they waited for their friends' arrival. This wasn't just because they were still relatively unacquainted, and thus the hospital served as a useful common ground, but also because Cameron anticipated a grilling from Foreman and Chase concerning the situation with House and didn't wish to repeat herself.

Sure enough, when they sauntered through a few minutes later, having picked up a pair of beers at the bar, Chase's first question was: "how's it going with our Lord and Master?".

"Pretty well, I'd say", she replied with a smile. "The cast is off and he's been doing rehab".

"At the hospital?", asked Foreman. He had taken the seat next to Thirteen.

"Yep. There's a good therapy department, to be honest. We go in twice a week".

"Think he'll regain full mobility?". Thirteen this time.

"It's possible. I think so, yeah. But it's a waiting game at this point".

"Still kinda batshit crazy he's in this position to begin with", mused Chase. "Like, what are the chances you're on a bus on that night, at that time, in that seat? Damn small".

"The whole thing's pretty crap", agreed Cameron.

"He could've come out with us".

"I asked, but he's happy enough chilling in the apartment".

"You guys not driven each other crazy yet, then?".

Cameron stifled a smile at this question from Chase, which brought to mind something on which she had reflected often over these months apart. Though she (thankfully) hadn't shared a direct conversation with him on the topic, she'd always got the impression not just that he resented her attraction to House, but also that he simply didn't understand its basis. Such incomprehension was by no means restricted to him; even House betrayed the same confusion. Still, the emphasis of their puzzlement was slightly different. For Chase, she knew, the physical aspects were king—beautiful women (like herself) just did not land on not-quite-beautiful men like House. Thus, when he, as another beautiful person, was rejected in favour of such a man, it caused perplexity (the problem here was simply that Cameron did find House incredibly attractive and always had).

For House, however, the intangibles ruled. Where Chase defined the world through physicality, House defined it through rationality. For him, he couldn't understand why a sweet, caring, and empathetic woman (like herself) might wish to spend so much time with a guy universally agreed to be grumpy and annoying. Thus, when she did in fact stay at his side, he inevitably reacted with confusion and wariness (the problem here was that she actually saw him as a kindred spirit, and those facets of his personality which others merely endured or avoided, she accepted as cherished elements of his individuality). Cameron's mission had always been to reassure House that her feelings for him were genuine. As their relationship had grown, she had won significant ground in this regard. And if—when—they reunited, she would resume her work with a diligence that only love could inspire.

"Cameron?", prompted Chase.

She snapped back to the present and cleared her throat: "err, sorry. No, we're still fairly sane, I think".

"You've had zero tension?". Even Foreman sounded doubtful.

"Well, he interrupted an important meeting a while back. That was kinda annoying. And he doesn't really have any conception of boundaries".

The neurologist shook his head.

"Sorry", added Cameron, aware how lame the complaints sounded.

"And you've spent the entire time sleeping on the couch?", asked Chase.

"Uhuh". The conversation was verging into the personal, but she gave a mental shrug.

"That must be uncomfortable", said Thirteen.

"You get used to it. How's it running in Diagnostics, then? Any cool patients?". Cameron, having felt that she had answered enough questions for the time being, was keen to shift the focus back onto the others.

"We did get someone cool, actually. A celebrity. From The Sopranos".

But before Chase could continue, Foreman held up his hand. "We really shouldn't be spilling details".

"It's Cameron. She knows the score".

"Come on, Eric", she smirked. "We can call it a consult if the F.B.I. come knocking with the third degree".

Foreman sighed, but did eventually concede. Before long, the four of them had their heads together around the table, drinks temporarily forgotten.