027. Cane - House/Cameron
Title: Hidden Meanings
Characters/Pairing: Cameron, House, Wilson, Stacy. House/Cameron
Prompt: 027. Cane
Word Count: 1702
Rating: PG-13 (I think!)
Betas: drwilltx and celticfaerie2
Written For: Starhawk2005
Spoilers: S2E07 ‘Hunting’ and S2E09 ‘Deception’.
A/N: This was written for the Scars theme ficathon at house_cameron.
Hidden Meanings
Back and forth. House and Cameron are sitting in Anica Jovanovich’s apartment arguing over whether the woman has Munchausen’s versus Cushing’s. Neither of them notices how close they are sitting next to each other on the bed. Cameron, for once, has the last word and they head outside to House’s motorcycle.
She watches as he snaps his cane in place along the side of the bike, climbs on, and then puts on his sunglasses. She fights the urge to laugh because, really, the sight is quite comical. Instead she puts on the helmet and eases on to the bike behind him. Cameron decides to blame her smile on the memory of House pulling her hesitant arms around him before they left the hospital. The weather is frigid, and she is grateful for his body warmth. This time she wraps her arms around his waist and holds on for dear life.
They can’t really have a conversation while on the bike. The helmet she’s wearing serves as a barrier, and House isn’t much of a talker anyway. Her arms tighten instinctively as they turn down another street. He was right about the roads being clear; hills of plowed and dirty snow hide the sides of the pavement.
While stopped at a traffic light, Cameron feels House shift slightly on the bike. One of his hands finds its way on top of hers. She can almost feel the warmth through her leather gloves, and another smile graces her face. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does she because the moment would be broken instantly, and she wants to hang on to it for as long as she can. He doesn’t want to admit to the slight smile that is turning up the corners of his mouth. Eventually the light turns green, the spell is broken, and House’s hand returns to the handlebar.
They make it back to the hospital and report their findings to Foreman. There is more arguing, back and forth, until Foreman makes his decision and sides with House. Exasperated, Cameron leaves the room to get Anica’s consent for the venous sampling. House sticks it to Foreman and then heads down the hall to see Wilson.
The door to the oncologist’s office is open, but House doesn’t bother with pleasantries such as knocking and waiting to be acknowledged. He barges in, still wearing his leather jacket.
“I’m not loaning you money.” Wilson states, not even looking up from his computer screen.
House sits down in one of the chairs across the desk. “Did I ask for any?”
Wilson ignores the question and finally stops looking at his monitor. “Have you talked to Stacy? She was looking for you earlier but I told her you were riding with Cameron.”
House scratches his forehead absent-mindedly before responding. “Did you use those exact words? And what does she want anyway?”
“I might have, I can’t remember.” Wilson replies without missing a beat. “I didn’t ask her what she wanted. You’re an adult; I figured you could have your own conversation with her.”
House looks down, a slight frown on his face. “She probably wants to bitch at me about a patient lawsuit or something else equally boring.”
”That is her job.” Wilson smirks.
“Bitching at me?” House asks incredulously.
Wilson rolls his eyes, “Right. You are the center of her universe.”
“Of course I am. She’s in love with me and just can’t admit it.”
Wilson sighs deeply before saying anything. “I saw you earlier. With Cameron. On your bike in the parking lot. Are you telling me there’s nothing going on there?”
“We were breaking into our patient’s apartment.”
Wilson scoffs, realizing he has hit a nerve. “And that’s all it was to you?”
“Yes.” House replies, his blue eyes flashing at his best friend.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ace.” Wilson meets House’s gaze, absorbing all the subtext. “Just don’t be surprised when she’s not there when you need her.”
“Stacy?” House plays dumb.
“No. Cameron.” Wilson answers pointedly.
House taps his cane on the floor and doesn’t say anything. Finally he stands and leaves the office.
------------------
Days later, Stacy tracks him down. He is seated at his desk, rolling the red oversized tennis ball in his hands. Anica’s case is over and he is back to waiting for the next medical puzzle. For a few moments out of each day, he forgets that Foreman is still in charge of the department. He ignores Stacy when she walks into the office.
“I’ve been looking for you.” She says. Dressed in her usual black power suit, her eyes flash with annoyance.
“I’ve been right here.” House replies, still rolling the tennis ball.
Stacy doesn’t sit down, but remains standing in front of his desk, tightly clutching some papers. “Why do you keep avoiding me? I’m just trying to do my job here.”
“I can’t help it if I happen to be with a patient whenever you need to talk to me.” House stares at her, unblinking.
Stacy sighs. “These are some lawsuit dismissal papers that I need you to sign.” She takes a few steps forward and holds them out to him. House puts down the tennis ball and doesn’t even read the papers before scribbling his signature on them.
“Was that all? I’m kind of busy here.” He quips, gesturing vaguely around his office, pushing the papers back toward her.
She snatches them up quickly. “You are so infuriating. I don’t understand why you have to make everything so difficult for me.”
He stares at her again, his face revealing nothing. “It’s not just you. I’m difficult with everyone.”
“More excuses. I am so tired of this back and forth thing that we have going on.” Her hands are gesturing between the two of them. “When are we going to learn to work together in peace?”
“We’re not.” The oversized tennis ball is back in his hands. “There are too many old wounds.”
“Come on, Greg, we’re not back to that are we?” Stacy clutches the paperwork against her chest.
“We never stop talking about that. You scarred me. Don’t ever forget that.” Blue eyes flash with memories and pain. “Leave.”
“Greg. I...”
House cuts her off, “I said leave.” His voice is low and filled with too many meanings. Stacy wisely chooses not to speak again and turns to depart his office. He resumes rolling the ball in his hands.
------------------
Allison Cameron is in the lab, staring into a microscope. The computer is on next to her with some references on the screen. She hears the door open, but doesn’t look up because she already knows who it is. House walks in and leans against the counter next to her.
“Do we have a new case?” She asks, still staring into the scope.
“No.” He replies. His eyes are on her, watching as she focuses the microscope.
“Then why are you here?”
“I was lonely.” Back and forth. He pushes; she pushes back.
Cameron snorts, finally taking her eyes away from the microscope to write down some notes in a file. “And you decided to come to the lab?”
“I just happened to be passing by, yes.” He leans toward her shoulder, barely touching it, to look at what she is writing.
“Right. You saw me and thought that bothering me sounded like a good idea!” She finishes writing and puts down her pen.
House continues to look over her shoulder and she snaps the file closed. He straightens up when she does that and resumes leaning against the counter. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” He replies with a smirk.
Cameron rolls her eyes, “No you weren’t. What do you want, House?”
“Do you know what is nice about owning a pet?” He asks, ignoring her question.
She raises an eyebrow at him but waits for him to continue.
“They don’t talk.”
“That’s really profound.” She crosses her arms across her chest. “And last I checked, I am not your pet.”
House looks down at the floor, a faint smile crossing his face. “No. You’re not.” He is silent for a moment. “But Steve is.”
“Steve?” Cameron asks, tapping her fingers against her arm.
“My rat.”
“Oh.” She isn’t sure why he is telling her this. “I didn’t realize.” She now recalls that moment in the elevator. He accuses her of being hung over and she asks about the rat in the cage. The memory makes her cringe inwardly as there is so much else associated with it.
House nods, still looking down at the floor. Cameron shifts from one foot to the other, trying to dispel her nervous energy.
“I need to go for a ride.” He says, after a few moments of silence.
She almost chokes, realizing that there are too many hidden meanings in his words. “What?” Her voice is shaky.
“My motorcycle.” He clarifies, unnecessarily. “And I am hungry.” His eyes shift from the floor to her face.
Cameron blinks a few times, staring at him in return. “It’s lunch time.”
“It is.”
Now it’s her turn to look down at the floor. She wonders if that is the closest thing she will get to an invitation. Her arms unclench and fall to her sides, and she methodically begins putting away her slides and logging off the computer. He watches her movements and then deftly moves his cane between her legs, tapping it against her foot.
Cameron stops, her breath catching for just a moment, and then she turns her head with a questioning look. The cane returns to his side and he nods his head toward the glass doors.
“The lab will still be here later.” He speaks softly.
She smiles and resumes putting away her work. His impatience will not hurry her actions. Items put away, she turns to look at him, waiting by the door. When he sees she is ready, he pushes the door open and walks out into the hall toward the elevators. Taking a deep breath, she follows him.
A few minutes later and dressed for the cold weather, they are riding on his bike. Her hands are around his waist and his face has a hint of a smile.
Characters/Pairing: Cameron, House, Wilson, Stacy. House/Cameron
Prompt: 027. Cane
Word Count: 1702
Rating: PG-13 (I think!)
Betas: drwilltx and celticfaerie2
Written For: Starhawk2005
Spoilers: S2E07 ‘Hunting’ and S2E09 ‘Deception’.
A/N: This was written for the Scars theme ficathon at house_cameron.
Hidden Meanings
Back and forth. House and Cameron are sitting in Anica Jovanovich’s apartment arguing over whether the woman has Munchausen’s versus Cushing’s. Neither of them notices how close they are sitting next to each other on the bed. Cameron, for once, has the last word and they head outside to House’s motorcycle.
She watches as he snaps his cane in place along the side of the bike, climbs on, and then puts on his sunglasses. She fights the urge to laugh because, really, the sight is quite comical. Instead she puts on the helmet and eases on to the bike behind him. Cameron decides to blame her smile on the memory of House pulling her hesitant arms around him before they left the hospital. The weather is frigid, and she is grateful for his body warmth. This time she wraps her arms around his waist and holds on for dear life.
They can’t really have a conversation while on the bike. The helmet she’s wearing serves as a barrier, and House isn’t much of a talker anyway. Her arms tighten instinctively as they turn down another street. He was right about the roads being clear; hills of plowed and dirty snow hide the sides of the pavement.
While stopped at a traffic light, Cameron feels House shift slightly on the bike. One of his hands finds its way on top of hers. She can almost feel the warmth through her leather gloves, and another smile graces her face. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does she because the moment would be broken instantly, and she wants to hang on to it for as long as she can. He doesn’t want to admit to the slight smile that is turning up the corners of his mouth. Eventually the light turns green, the spell is broken, and House’s hand returns to the handlebar.
They make it back to the hospital and report their findings to Foreman. There is more arguing, back and forth, until Foreman makes his decision and sides with House. Exasperated, Cameron leaves the room to get Anica’s consent for the venous sampling. House sticks it to Foreman and then heads down the hall to see Wilson.
The door to the oncologist’s office is open, but House doesn’t bother with pleasantries such as knocking and waiting to be acknowledged. He barges in, still wearing his leather jacket.
“I’m not loaning you money.” Wilson states, not even looking up from his computer screen.
House sits down in one of the chairs across the desk. “Did I ask for any?”
Wilson ignores the question and finally stops looking at his monitor. “Have you talked to Stacy? She was looking for you earlier but I told her you were riding with Cameron.”
House scratches his forehead absent-mindedly before responding. “Did you use those exact words? And what does she want anyway?”
“I might have, I can’t remember.” Wilson replies without missing a beat. “I didn’t ask her what she wanted. You’re an adult; I figured you could have your own conversation with her.”
House looks down, a slight frown on his face. “She probably wants to bitch at me about a patient lawsuit or something else equally boring.”
”That is her job.” Wilson smirks.
“Bitching at me?” House asks incredulously.
Wilson rolls his eyes, “Right. You are the center of her universe.”
“Of course I am. She’s in love with me and just can’t admit it.”
Wilson sighs deeply before saying anything. “I saw you earlier. With Cameron. On your bike in the parking lot. Are you telling me there’s nothing going on there?”
“We were breaking into our patient’s apartment.”
Wilson scoffs, realizing he has hit a nerve. “And that’s all it was to you?”
“Yes.” House replies, his blue eyes flashing at his best friend.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ace.” Wilson meets House’s gaze, absorbing all the subtext. “Just don’t be surprised when she’s not there when you need her.”
“Stacy?” House plays dumb.
“No. Cameron.” Wilson answers pointedly.
House taps his cane on the floor and doesn’t say anything. Finally he stands and leaves the office.
------------------
Days later, Stacy tracks him down. He is seated at his desk, rolling the red oversized tennis ball in his hands. Anica’s case is over and he is back to waiting for the next medical puzzle. For a few moments out of each day, he forgets that Foreman is still in charge of the department. He ignores Stacy when she walks into the office.
“I’ve been looking for you.” She says. Dressed in her usual black power suit, her eyes flash with annoyance.
“I’ve been right here.” House replies, still rolling the tennis ball.
Stacy doesn’t sit down, but remains standing in front of his desk, tightly clutching some papers. “Why do you keep avoiding me? I’m just trying to do my job here.”
“I can’t help it if I happen to be with a patient whenever you need to talk to me.” House stares at her, unblinking.
Stacy sighs. “These are some lawsuit dismissal papers that I need you to sign.” She takes a few steps forward and holds them out to him. House puts down the tennis ball and doesn’t even read the papers before scribbling his signature on them.
“Was that all? I’m kind of busy here.” He quips, gesturing vaguely around his office, pushing the papers back toward her.
She snatches them up quickly. “You are so infuriating. I don’t understand why you have to make everything so difficult for me.”
He stares at her again, his face revealing nothing. “It’s not just you. I’m difficult with everyone.”
“More excuses. I am so tired of this back and forth thing that we have going on.” Her hands are gesturing between the two of them. “When are we going to learn to work together in peace?”
“We’re not.” The oversized tennis ball is back in his hands. “There are too many old wounds.”
“Come on, Greg, we’re not back to that are we?” Stacy clutches the paperwork against her chest.
“We never stop talking about that. You scarred me. Don’t ever forget that.” Blue eyes flash with memories and pain. “Leave.”
“Greg. I...”
House cuts her off, “I said leave.” His voice is low and filled with too many meanings. Stacy wisely chooses not to speak again and turns to depart his office. He resumes rolling the ball in his hands.
------------------
Allison Cameron is in the lab, staring into a microscope. The computer is on next to her with some references on the screen. She hears the door open, but doesn’t look up because she already knows who it is. House walks in and leans against the counter next to her.
“Do we have a new case?” She asks, still staring into the scope.
“No.” He replies. His eyes are on her, watching as she focuses the microscope.
“Then why are you here?”
“I was lonely.” Back and forth. He pushes; she pushes back.
Cameron snorts, finally taking her eyes away from the microscope to write down some notes in a file. “And you decided to come to the lab?”
“I just happened to be passing by, yes.” He leans toward her shoulder, barely touching it, to look at what she is writing.
“Right. You saw me and thought that bothering me sounded like a good idea!” She finishes writing and puts down her pen.
House continues to look over her shoulder and she snaps the file closed. He straightens up when she does that and resumes leaning against the counter. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” He replies with a smirk.
Cameron rolls her eyes, “No you weren’t. What do you want, House?”
“Do you know what is nice about owning a pet?” He asks, ignoring her question.
She raises an eyebrow at him but waits for him to continue.
“They don’t talk.”
“That’s really profound.” She crosses her arms across her chest. “And last I checked, I am not your pet.”
House looks down at the floor, a faint smile crossing his face. “No. You’re not.” He is silent for a moment. “But Steve is.”
“Steve?” Cameron asks, tapping her fingers against her arm.
“My rat.”
“Oh.” She isn’t sure why he is telling her this. “I didn’t realize.” She now recalls that moment in the elevator. He accuses her of being hung over and she asks about the rat in the cage. The memory makes her cringe inwardly as there is so much else associated with it.
House nods, still looking down at the floor. Cameron shifts from one foot to the other, trying to dispel her nervous energy.
“I need to go for a ride.” He says, after a few moments of silence.
She almost chokes, realizing that there are too many hidden meanings in his words. “What?” Her voice is shaky.
“My motorcycle.” He clarifies, unnecessarily. “And I am hungry.” His eyes shift from the floor to her face.
Cameron blinks a few times, staring at him in return. “It’s lunch time.”
“It is.”
Now it’s her turn to look down at the floor. She wonders if that is the closest thing she will get to an invitation. Her arms unclench and fall to her sides, and she methodically begins putting away her slides and logging off the computer. He watches her movements and then deftly moves his cane between her legs, tapping it against her foot.
Cameron stops, her breath catching for just a moment, and then she turns her head with a questioning look. The cane returns to his side and he nods his head toward the glass doors.
“The lab will still be here later.” He speaks softly.
She smiles and resumes putting away her work. His impatience will not hurry her actions. Items put away, she turns to look at him, waiting by the door. When he sees she is ready, he pushes the door open and walks out into the hall toward the elevators. Taking a deep breath, she follows him.
A few minutes later and dressed for the cold weather, they are riding on his bike. Her hands are around his waist and his face has a hint of a smile.