Road trip (2)

A.N. From afar, I've always thought the 'road trip' a quintessential American thing where you talk and look out of the window. So that's what the last chapter was, and this one is. The next few entries are very heavy on conversation (and other stuff) between House and Cameron with little in the way of third party input. Just the way I like it, honestly.


"Well, that's not really my problem, is it, dad? No. No. Yes. When you're ready to-, no. No. I don't care if you think it was justified, OK, because I'm saying it wasn't. Correct. When you're ready to-, no, listen, dad: when you're ready to apologise, I'll be here. Bye". Cameron terminated the call, swiped back to the GPS tracking, and reattached the handset to its stand on the dashboard.

House, meanwhile, discreetly cleared his throat and kept his eyes fixed on the road. At least, he did initially. But when the silence extended he couldn't refrain from glancing across.

Cameron was frowning, arms folded.

He wondered whether he should say something, and actually opened his mouth for a half-second before deciding against it. One thing he had learnt was that Cameron possessed a temper. Personally, he loved it. For so long he had thought her indecisive, excessively kind, even weak-willed. These concerns, in fact, had blotted her ledger early on in his mind when deciding whether to pursue a relationship. Nowadays, though, he knew to revise that earlier judgement as both inaccurate and incomplete.

After another fifteen seconds of quiet, House snatched an additional glance.

"If you have something to say to me, go ahead", she said shortly.

"I'm really sorry for going behind your back".

Cameron waved a hand dismissively. "And I've already accepted your apology. It's dealt with".

"It doesn't sound like it's dealt with".

"My dad didn't apologise. When he does, I will forgive him as I have you".

House nodded. He could respect stubbornness; especially stubbornness in defence of a position right and justified. "Fair enough. Would you unscrew my water bottle?".

"Of course". She did as instructed, holding it to his lips as he swallowed. Then she wiped a stray bead of water from his chin with her thumb. "Sure you don't want me to drive?".

"Nah. Not long now?".

Cameron checked the route remaining on her phone, but really she could just have looked out of the window instead to judge how far they had travelled: the road lined thickly with trees jutting up into the clear blue sky, road signs every now and then warning to watch out for roaming wildlife. Princeton was not a large town, but compared to this it seemed a bustling metropolis.

"An hour", she said, swiping back to the map.

"All good, babe".

The use of this lesser-spotted term of endearment caused a slight smile, even if the party line was that she remained annoyed at him despite forgiveness. So she settled for a non-committal hum, signifying something or other, and pretended to scratch her nose.

"So, where we going?", he asked.

"Surprise".

"Cabin in the woods, ain't it".

Cameron's eyes snapped across. "Did you snoop on my phone?".

"Nope. Or, well, not recently".

"Then how-?".

"-Cameron, we're literally in the middle of a forest. Doesn't take a genius to figure out".

"It's a cabin in the woods", she admitted.

"Cool". The thought crossed House's mind that, for most other people aware of his existence, the prospect of being cooped up with him in a log cabin would approach nothing less than a horror scenario. Even Wilson and Cuddy, though they might endure for longer, would go mad in the end. Cameron was apparently inoculated. Sure, he already knew this—after all, she had survived for months under his roof with little ill effect—but it still felt nice to reaffirm this reality every now and then as a revision process.

"Yeah, hopefully. Looks nice online, at least. It has a-, well, you'll see".

"Uhuh. Does it have a naked Chicago Blonde in it?". House threw her a cheeky wink.

"I imagine it will have". This time Cameron couldn't help but smile openly.

"But I guess we can't spend all day having sex, so maybe we can walk around the woods or something?".

"Huh? Who says so?". In fact, her plan had been exactly to spend the entire trip having sex.

"Well, I mean, it just might be challenging. Physically".

"Don't worry about that. We'll find a way; can count it as part of your rehab".

House swallowed. This weekend was threatening to test out his cardio something fierce and they hadn't even arrived yet.

"No, but in all seriousness, there's a neat little town nearby, hiking trails. Think there's also a freshwater lake. So, we can do whatever you want, Greg. This is your birthday treat. The world—and for 'world' read 'a tiny corner of Connecticut'—is your oyster".

"D'you know where that phrase comes from?".

"The world as an oyster?".

"Guess".

Cameron thought about this. "I feel like it's an English saying, and a lot of English sayings come from Shakespeare. So, that would be my guess".

"Fuck, yeah. Gimme some skin for that flawless logic process".

House reached across with a clenched fist and Cameron bumped against it with a giggle. Rarely did she giggle, but it had happened twice on this road trip already. It couldn't be helped: the guy was such an adorable weirdo even if he was still half (or maybe a third) in the doghouse from before.

"You want a piece of candy?", she asked suddenly, forgetting her latent annoyance and diving into the dashboard compartment to retrieve a motley selection of goodies.

"When did you get those? Also, we've been on the road for hours—why're they only appearing now?".

"Just picked up a bunch when I went to the store for supplies ahead of the guys coming over on Wednesday". She conveniently ignored the second question.

"Speaking of, what did you think of Amber up close? Peanut butter cup".

Cameron fed him a Reese's peanut butter cup. Personally, she found them too sweet but had stocked up for House, just in case. "I like her; think she complements Wilson nicely. Much more than Mathilde did".

House didn't reply immediately, taking a moment to reflect on these words. Though he knew very little about Amber, he had to accept that she did seem to be well-suited to Princeton's most predictable oncologist: intelligent and driven, yes, but also subtly vulnerable. Damaged. What House really wanted to know was whether she was damaged purely because of the crash or because of some other as-yet-hidden reason. And it was important he found this out sooner rather than later. Every day that rolled by saw Wilson ever closer to his next marriage.

"You don't agree?". Cameron unwrapped a Starburst and popped it into her mouth.

"I do", he admitted slowly. "But we need more intelligence".

"I remember you saying you found some Amber stuff out the night I forced you to take me back".

"You didn't force me, sweetheart. I decided myself".

"Oh, mmm, yeah", she nodded, seemingly completely serious.

"Regardless", said House, looking to get back on track, "I need to get it straight from her directly, no filter. Any other time and I'd do it myself, but Turner's taking up all my focus at the moment".

"How's that going?", she asked, not expecting an answer. "Turner".

Sure enough, he replied: "no comment".

"Why're you so against me knowing?".

"Because it's my little project, that's why".

"Fine. Anyway, pretty sure I offered to undertake some Amber research on your behalf a while ago when I first met her".

"This is true…but I'm just not convinced you've got the chops for it".

"Oh, what?". Throughout this conversation Cameron had maintained her usual air of vague playfulness, but now she stopped chewing and fixed him with those wide, green eyes. She had deployed an identical response when he had denied her company while swimming yesterday. As then, he very nearly folded like a cheap suit. Surely she knew how heart-stoppingly cute he found this reaction. And her in general.

"Well, it would require a bit of, er, casual digging. And you're basically an open book".

"I am not!", she replied with a defensiveness she didn't really feel. As usual, House was speaking the truth, even if she had improved her lying skills while stationed in the ER. She was pretty sure most of her colleagues remained ignorant of the fact that she had transferred there not for a career change (as stated to any who asked, including Porter, her boss) but because she had needed to manufacture distance from Diagnostics while her heart attempted to heal itself. It had never healed itself. As if by magic, House alone had done that one Friday evening two weeks ago.

"Hey, it's totally fine", he said soothingly, reaching across with the hand not on the steering wheel and patting her knee, "it's actually a real strength, if you think about it. I mean, you offset my, er-".

"-batshit craziness?", she supplied helpfully.

"Was gonna say my 'flexible attitude to truth-telling', but yours works, too".

"Well, see, y'know, I'm not convinced that's an accurate assessment of your own approach there, sweetheart".

"How come?". House slowed down to allow a pickup truck access out of the junction ahead. It was one of the few vehicles they had seen over the last thirty minutes as they drove deeper into the woods. During the winter he imagined that this stretch would appear quite forbidding, trees overspreading the road and blocking out much of the natural light. But, on this summer's afternoon, the dappled effect created by the sun's rays passing through the leaves left an impression of simple beauty rivalled only by that of the woman sitting next to him.

"You've done more than your fair share of truth-telling today already".

"That's different. I meant flexibility to truth in general, not towards you". Aware that he had phrased it poorly, he added: "like, I lie all the time. Just not to you anymore. Much".

"Yeah? When was your last lie to someone not in this car right now?". Cameron unwrapped another Starburst and placed it in his open mouth.

House shot her a look of genuine sympathy. "I swear, you are so sweet sometimes. I literally lied on Wednesday".

"What, really?", she laughed.

"Yeah. I borrowed two grand from Wilson when we were in the kitchen together".

Cameron thought back. There had indeed been a moment when the two friends had disappeared into the kitchen while she had been talking to Amber.

"Said I needed it for, and I quote, 'my long-range planning'", House explained without prompting. "Joke's on him. I've never planned in my life".

"He…he just gave it to you?".

"Mmm".

"Apparently not realising that you were quoting The Sopranos?".

"Fuck, yes, Chicago. Two for two. Up high!". This time he raised his hand over his shoulder such that Cameron had to stretch a bit to slap against it satisfyingly.

"Two grand, huh. Have you ever wondered how much his limit might be? Academically speaking".

"Way ahead of you, blondie. I once managed to ascertain-".

"-ascertain? Such a nerd, honestly-".

"-ascertain how much Wilson objectively values our friendship. I got to five grand before questions were asked".

Cameron snorted, shaking her head a little. She well knew the story since it had been she who had alerted Wilson, albeit indirectly, in her effort to unite House with his parents when they had come to the hospital a couple of years ago. "And how much for us?".

"You mean how much you'd need to give me?".

She nodded.

This conversation had been light-hearted, but now House took the opportunity to answer seriously. "I wouldn't ask you".

"Come on. How much?".

"No, honestly, I wouldn't ask you. No amount of money would ever enter my brain, joking or otherwise. You, truthfully, are priceless to me".

"Now who's the one being sweet?". Cameron leant across and brushed her lips to his cheek, feeling the familiar stubble.

"Just, for the love of God, keep it to yourself. Can't afford to damage my street cred after I've been out of the game so long".

"Of course. I shall take your secret to the grave, my love".

House grunted something. She wasn't sure what.

"But I did a good job talking to Foreman, Chase, and Thirteen at the bar. Figured out lots of stuff without giving the game away".

Instinctively he knew that she had returned to the question of her (lack of) aptitude for extracting information from Amber. "Not the same thing. We work with those guys".

"I don't work with them".

"You know what I mean. They're colleagues".

"Why does that matter?".

"I dunno", he shrugged. "There was just less at stake".

"And there's more at stake here?".

House shrugged again.

"Look, all I'll do is get to know her a bit better, see what her history is, and take it from there. Can invite Cuddy, too. Just us girls talking about the boys. Tale as old as time, no funny business. Otherwise you risk not getting any information at all. I helped you with Mathilde, too, remember?".

The silence lengthened as he thought things over. She did have a point. And it wasn't as if it needed a full background check or anything like that; just a bead on her intentions towards his best friend. "You'd want to do this?", he asked eventually. "You mention Mathilde, but you were a very reluctant Jane Bond back then".

"I've changed. Wilson's my friend now as well, so I'd like to see him as happy as we are".

"Not as happy", he corrected. "No one else should be on our level".

"OK, fine. Fairly happy.

Once again the silence grew as their car navigated the winding road, as if its course had been planned to preserve as much of the forest as possible, following natural contours and falls. Before long they turned off, down little more than a dirt track, the wheels crunching over twigs and stones.

You have reached your destination.

House pulled the car up and killed the engine. "If you wanna see what you can get out of Amber, I won't veto it. Just, I dunno", he waved a hand in the air, "don't be weird".

Cameron managed to keep a straight face only with great difficulty. "Alright, I won't be weird".

Matter settled, they both turned their attention to the windscreen and, beyond that, their home for the next two days.

"Well, you weren't kidding, Camster…", he murmured.

"…it really is a cabin in the woods", she finished. "Hey, Greg?".

"Sup?".

"You'd protect me from bears, right?".

"I don't see that I'd have any choice".

She looked at him quizzically.

"Outside of hookers, you're the only woman that would actually agree to have sex with me", he explained. "So it's in my interest to protect you. Evolution".

"That's the sweetest, most rational thing you've ever said to me", she grinned.

They bumped fists and undid their seatbelts. The weekend awaited.