Knight to c3
A.N. Apologies for the delay in updating: life has been fiendishly busy. During a Q and A with the cast around season 2, one of the audience members called House "the thinking woman's sex symbol". The description stuck with me and I deploy it here.
Thursday was technically a non-working day for House, but he journeyed in with Cameron all the same. Which, in turn, prompted questions: "why are you coming in today again?", she asked as they prepared to leave. "You keep telling me to take it easy on my ankle, but the same goes for you, Greg…".
"This is my free time. Figured I'd go sight-seeing, do a bit of exploration, grab a relaxed coffee in the cafeteria, watch some TV". House locked the door behind them and followed her into the morning sunshine. The one downside of this central location was the lack of available parking, and now that Cameron had moved in, it meant that both their cars and his motorbike jostled for position at the side of the road. In practice, it meant that he had to walk a whole extra thirty seconds. Crazy.
"Yeah, right. House, if you intend to work, I would not be OK with that. Honestly. Don't risk your recovery".
They settled into her car.
"I won't be working", he explained eventually. "I'll be researching".
"Oh". Cameron's expression brightened instantly. "Got a new paper idea? Actually, your one in the Chicago Medical Journal will be out soon, won't it?".
"Not as soon as yours. Next month, or thereabouts?". In truth, House had long known the exact date of publication for Cameron's article owing to his past acquaintance with the editor. It had been a long time in coming, reflective of her hard work and perseverance. He had something in mind to commemorate the occasion. Just a small token she might wish to add to her box of memories. Or maybe wear.
"Something like that. Don't think I'll hear anything more now until it appears". She pulled away from the sidewalk and headed towards the hospital.
"You completed the open access forms?".
"Yes", she answered patiently.
House nodded and started looking out of the window. He really enjoyed summer. Even though it was early morning everything seemed so vibrant. Alive.
"Well?".
"Well what?".
"What're you researching?".
"It's too 'big brain' for you to understand".
"Try me".
Unbeknown to Cameron, who was fully focused on the road, House winced slightly. In an ideal world he would keep this to himself, not only to limit her exposure, but also to remove the need for her to revisit difficult memories. On the other hand, they were in a very good place, and he harboured a great deal of guilt over the fact that he had inadvertently pushed her towards some incredibly depressing reading material.
Still, his own conscience demanded he make one more attempt to keep her insulated.
"I think it's best I not tell you", he said slowly.
"What does that mean?". Cameron's eyes darted to his.
"You know the scene in The Sopranos when Tony tells his wife not to ask him explicitly what happened to Richie Aprile?".
The immunologist once again met his gaze curiously. They had indeed started on The Sopranos together in the last couple of weeks, but she had not been paying as much attention as she might have done, and New Jersey accents were sometimes difficult to interpret.
"About not making you an accessory after the fact…?", he nudged.
"House, are you planning to kill someone?". Cameron used the opportunity of a red light to look at him properly. What had started out as a question stimulated by simple interest, now took on a weightier significance. Even if she had absolutely no idea how or why.
"No, of course not", he sighed.
"Then what?".
"Ugh, fine, I'll tell you. But when we get married, it's 'in sickness and in health', OK, and this is my sickness".
"Yeah, yeah. Spill". Now that actual murder was off the table, Cameron felt much happier about the whole thing. The casual mention of marriage helped, too.
The light turned green and she hit the gas.
"I'm going into work to spy on that fuckstick Turner for the whole day. Y'know, draw a bead on his movements, see if I can glean what he's like with other people, figure out a plan of attack. Metaphorical attack, obviously", he added quickly.
There was a brief silence.
House felt compelled to fill it: "look, don't try and convince me otherwise, OK? This is happening. No physical harm will come to him, but I won't be giving any quarter-".
"-I think it's a brilliant idea".
Another second of quiet.
Then House said: "you do?".
"Yep. I do". She threw him a beaming smile as they slowed down for a junction.
"Why? You're a cuddly animal".
"House", stated Cameron, reaching across and taking his hand while they waited for the traffic lights. "This guy belittled me, made me feel terrified and small. He sexually harassed me. I want him punished. I want him to experience a fraction of what I experienced. And as long as there's no chance of mortal danger-".
"-no chance of that. Maybe just a light sprinkling of 'you're fired'".
"Then, yes, I think it's a great idea. Do what you gotta do".
Having expected an explosion of moral outrage, House wasn't sure what to say after that. So he just kept his mouth shut and looked out of the window again.
Only when they pulled into the hospital parking lot did Cameron turn to him again. "Can I just say…".
"Here we go. Let me have it, Chicago".
"…I find it incredibly sweet that you're so protective". As they spoke, she thought back to the time a couple of years ago when a patient with HIV had coughed blood on her. House had shown her scant regard, stopping only to stick a cotton swab in her mouth for testing purposes. That was probably the most care she could have hoped from him back then. But today circumstances were very different.
"Or maybe it's a desire for vengeance", he offered instead.
"Maybe. Or maybe you're my knight in shining armour…". Cameron reached across to caress his cheek, feeling his stubble under her palm. Then she trailed down his throat to the open collar of his shirt, the paleness of her hand in stark contrast to the bronze over which it travelled. She adored him all year round, of course, but come summer and the magic intensified two- or three-fold to the point that he became virtually irresistible to her.
"We should head in", he rumbled.
"Mmm", she sighed, reluctantly withdrawing her hand.
"You'll be in the clinic all day?".
"Yes, got a backlog. We can still meet up for lunch, though?".
"Probably not. Turner's shift runs until later, so guess I'll eat whenever he does".
They both left the car and wandered towards the hospital entrance.
"How do you plan on maintaining your cover?", she asked, thinking back fondly to last year when he had attempted to subject her to covert operations, with decidedly mixed results. "Surely he'll notice you hanging about".
"Doubtful. The ER is a teeming hellhole, so he's unlikely to spot me from Adam. Secondly, he's not been at PPTH long, and I've been off for ages anyway, so seriously doubt he knows who I am. Unless you told him you worked under me at the bar?".
"No. He talked only about himself. How did you know he's new in-post? Did I tell you that? Can't remember". One of the first things Turner had shared was how he had moved to Princeton just two months prior to that night in the bar.
"I read his personnel file", explained House simply. "One of my backup plans is to call his references under a fake name and with an accent, but I'd prefer not to involve more people if it can be helped. Hence why I wanna put in a solid day's research to see what I'm working with".
Cameron nodded as they made their way to reception, waiting while House signed in (since it was his non-working day he was technically a visitor). "What kind of accent?".
"Huh?". He looked up from adjusting his pass in its plastic holder.
"What kind of accent would you use if you had to…expand your sources of information?".
"British, I guess. Or Australian".
"What's the difference?".
"The difference? Deepest, darkest Alabama and Washington D.C.".
Cameron laughed as they reached the double doors leading into the clinic. "Does D.C. even have an accent?".
"Exactly".
"So, I'll see you back here at the end of the day, then onto swimming?".
Both moved off: he towards the ER and she to the clinic.
But before he disappeared into the 'teeming hellhole', Cameron called out: "happy hunting!".
House threw a salute over his shoulder, visible for just a second as the big double doors swung open and closed.
Later that evening, Cameron was in the stands at the Princeton University swimming complex, switching between watching her boyfriend complete his rehab session with Carter and reading a book. For much of the recent past she had been consumed by ancient history, but a couple of days ago she had spotted a Raymond Chandler on House's bookshelf and decided to give it a try.
Reaching a new chapter, she folded over the page corner, set the book on the bench beside her, and took stock. All the pools had some activity; mainly students plying the lanes solo or under the watchful eye of a coach. House himself did not look out of place amongst these athletes. Having completed his second set of the evening, he hauled himself from the water and stood on the side, listening intently to his physiotherapist's instructions.
Cameron knew from prior conversations that he had been a competitive swimmer in his youth, and it was easy to see why, even from distance: tall, lean, defined, he loomed over Carter. It helped, too, how the water on his skin gleamed under the harsh roof lighting overhead, creating shadows and enhancing his frame still further. Once again she reflected on his increased bulk in the shoulders and chest, a consequence of the ketamine treatment last year and the almost frenzied exercise it had allowed. As an addict, he was used to dialling everything up to eleven; it was an amazing thing to see that single-mindedness directed towards self-improvement. As his lover, meanwhile, she got to reap the benefits as well. A (very) happy coincidence.
Glancing around quickly to check for neighbours, she took out her cell, swiped to the camera function and zoomed in as far as possible. "There you are, baby", she whispered to herself, snapping a couple. The faint voyeuristic guilt she felt was alleviated by the knowledge that she had given him a handful of pictures herself, and would clear these with him later just in case.
Besides, she thought to herself, it's not as if he's naked.
House had suggested marching the penguin as an activity in place of swimming. This was the next best thing.
Cameron spent the next few minutes furtively drooling over a man whom she made a point to see naked every single day regardless. Since they had reunited she had rediscovered not only her sex drive, but also the myriad reasons why she loved being intimate with House in the first place. Then if you added into the pot his idiosyncratic form of chivalry (he had remained stubbornly tight-lipped on the outcome of his Turner surveillance), things usually became hot and sweaty at a rapid rate of knots. From her perspective, anyway.
Though, in truth, she didn't consider herself unique here. After all, had not Stacy desired him, too? Had not Cuddy, in college? House was the thinking woman's sex symbol, and Cameron liked to indulge in more than her fair share of thinking. Right now, for instance, she was thinking that if she tilted her head just so and squinted slightly at the third of these just-taken photographs, she could detect through his wet shorts the outline of his-.
The phone in her hand started vibrating aggressively and she sat up in guilty surprise, which only heightened when the caller ID registered in her lust-fogged brain.
Clearing her throat, though with eyes firmly on House as he dived back into the pool, she swiped 'accept'. "Hi, mom".
"Hey, sweetheart. Are you free to talk? I know your ER shifts are a bit crazy at the moment".
"Of course, yeah".
"First of all, how's Greg? Recovering?".
Although Cameron had shared with her parents the move out of Diagnostics, she had left vague the details of her caring for House during his convalescence, claiming that all the fellows were contributing in a small way rather than just her in a big way. But one of the real benefits of living far distant in a busy job was that she could be flexible with the truth and not get caught out.
"Yes, he's doing very well. Rehab is progressing nicely", she replied, watching as held to the side of the pool and completed leg stretches underwater.
"Oh, that's great, isn't it? You're the professional, but I guess keeping loose and limber helps?".
"Mmm". We've been keeping each other limber a lot lately. "How are you and dad?".
"Absolutely fine".
They spent a few minutes discussing domestic things, and Cameron heard a few details of her nieces and nephews, two of whom she had met at Christmas upon her return to Chicago. An especially depressing time, so soon after the breakup. But it would never happen again. Of this she was certain.
"Been up to anything…?", asked Sandra eventually in that casual-but-not-casual tone.
"Bits and pieces, why?".
"Well", even in the cavernous echo chamber of the pool complex, Cameron could hear her mother's bracing inhalation down the line, "I bumped into Valerie Kent at Macy's recently. You know, Chad's mom? Anyway, he and his wife separated a while ago, and I was thinking that, maybe, you could give him a call at some point? I know you guys were close when you were younger".
Cameron scowled. "For God's sake, mom. We dated for, like, two months in school. Why are you so intent on matchmaking?".
"I just don't want you to be alone, Allison. You're the only one in the family who's not settled down yet and I-".
"-look, mom, I love you dearly, but these intrusions into my romantic life have to stop. Besides…", now it was her own turn to brace herself, "…I've actually found a partner".
"Oh, honey, that's so great! You should've said so and I'd have shut up straightaway. Who is he? What's he like?".
The immunologist tracked House's movements in the pool as she spoke. "A guy at work. And I think he's amazing".
"Greg manage to find you someone, then?".
"Huh?". This had Cameron confused.
"Last time we saw you he said he would have a look through the hospital database for eligible men". The night of their return from the London conference, both of them had been surprised by her parents, who had brought over a late Thanksgiving dinner. House had tried to push her buttons by indeed promising Sandra and Paul that he would search for potential suitors.
"Oh, right. No. But I have known him as long as I've known House, so…". Not technically a lie.
"When do we get to meet him? You should bring him to Chicago!".
"Ah, I dunno, mom. We're still getting our feet under the table".
"Fine, fine. Does he make you happy?".
"Like you wouldn't believe".
"Really? Oh, honey…can I hear more?".
Cameron sat back into the bench and spent the rest of swimming time talking about her favourite subject in the world.