Julie |
Fanfic | House
Another Conversation That Never Happened
by Julie Barrett
Allison
Cameron stepped into the darkened lab and switched on the light. One last check
before she left, just to make sure the equipment had been properly shut down. Normally
she was very particular in her check of the lab, but tonight someone down the hall
called a code, and she ran to assist. Two frantic hours later, the patient was finally
stable in ICU. He wasn't even her patient, but she was the first doctor in the room,
and she handled the situation until the physician in charge of the case rushed in
from ER, where he'd been called to consult on another patient. Then she stayed to
help. What else did she have to do?
Technically speaking she was off duty, but tonight she stayed behind,
not wanting to leave until she was sure Dr. House was well out of the building.
Normally she made a point to wish her superior a good night before leaving, but
tonight she just wanted to slink out unnoticed. Sure, there were plenty of alternative
routes out of the building, but when House was bored – which was more often than
not – he was likely to show up anywhere.
Normally he left promptly at 5:00 p.m. Tonight, however, he was buried
in paperwork. She knew that was his least favorite activity next to clinic duty,
but there was the minor matter of a court order involved. Allison could have stayed
to help, but she didn't feel as though she was needed.
Her thoughts turned back to the conversation with Foreman earlier.
She could have slapped him for that. And Chase had a big mouth. She leaned against
the refrigeration unit and pondered her situation. Foreman's words had stung, but
maybe he saw the truth. Allison Cameron was infatuated with Gregory House. It wasn't
just those deep blue eyes that could induce serious knee wobble at ten paces. Nor
was it how he managed to look so damn good in clothes that looked like he'd slept
in them. It was more what was hiding behind that facade of bitter humor that fascinated
her.
She let out a long breath and opened the refrigeration unit to check
inside. It was force of habit more than anything else. A place for everything .
. .
“I don't think you'll find dinner there, unless of course, you're
looking to consume a few samples. In that case, I'll just leave you to your perverted
tastes.”
Cameron drew in a sharp breath, composed herself, and closed the door
to face Dr. House. “No, just one last check before I leave for the night.”
House leaned on his cane. Damn it, those eyes even sparkled in fluorescent
light. “You're thorough, all right. That's one of the things I like about you.”
“Like?” Cameron shook her head.
“Now, just because I like something about you, doesn't
mean that . . .” He looked away, his lips tightening as he did so.
“Dr. House, we need to talk.”
She followed him downstairs to his office; the two of them barely
speaking a word beyond a bit of professional chatter. The overhead lights had been
switched off and gentle illumination was provided by two lamps, one on his desk
and another on the credenza against the window. Soft jazz quietly wafted from the
sound system. It was soothing music to work by. House reached over and gently rotated
the volume to zero before he turned to face his desk.
“I hate paperwork,” he declared as he swept aside a stack of forms.
Cameron raised an eyebrow. “Of course, if Cuddy packed a .38 like our 'friends'
guarding our patient, I might be persuaded to keep up with it. As it is, she's packing
a pair of 36's. No match.” Cameron felt herself blush, and House eased himself into
a sitting position, his face showing a grimace and then relief as he positioned
his
right leg. “Sit down . . . please,” he asked, indicating the chair on the other
side of the desk. He reached for his coffee cup and took a sip, making a bitter
face as he did so. “Never understood why people like cold coffee.” House looked
down at his cup, and then at the machine in the conference room next door. “Want
some?” His voice was unnaturally bright, as though he was trying too hard to be
cordial.
“Uh, no. No thanks.” She'd heard the rumors of him marching into Cuddy's
office, shirt tail tucked in, hair combed, and wearing a lab coat. Perhaps he'd
finally cracked. That must be it.
“It's probably stale by now anyway.” Greg House tipped his cane against
his desk and leaned forward. He stared at his underling, waiting for her to speak.
“About our conversation a few days ago. . .” Time to be the big girl he wants me to be, she told herself. “I appreciate your honesty.” That honesty
twisted in her gut like a knife wound, but it was a pain that she hoped would go
away in time.
He pursed his lips and took a deep breath, spreading his palms on
the top of his desk as he did so. “I think you got the wrong end of the ah, stick.”
He glanced sideways at his cane. “Pun intended. Laugh now.”
Cameron stared back, incredulous. “I think you were quite plain, Dr.
House.” Stay professional.
“Okay, you're looking for honesty. The truth can hurt you know.” Taking
a deep breath through gritted teeth, she nodded. “You're a damned good doctor, but
you have to lay off on the hero worship thing.”
Allison felt a flush go up through her face, and there wasn't a thing
she could do to stop it. “Excuse me?”
“It's no secret that you defend me to the death to Cuddy, and to anyone
else within earshot. I'm quite capable of defending myself - if I should need defending.”
Cameron stumbled to speak, but said nothing. “When you do that, it gives the appearance
that you're not thinking for yourself. That's a bad thing. Even worse, it gives
the appearance that maybe there's something else going on.”
“I – I don't understand.” Keeping her composure was proving to be
difficult – as difficult as dealing with the man behind the desk.
“You know: Cranky, older doctor, younger doctor who thinks older doctor
hung the moon. You should watch General Hospital more often. Apparently I'm
not the only one around here who does.”
“Dr. House, I've disagreed with your diagnoses many times.”
“Yeah, we always hurt the ones we love.”
The barb hit its target, and Cameron leaned back in her chair. She
closed her eyes for a second, and then stared across the desk to her boss. “I don't
know what you're talking about.” As a liar she was unconvincing.
“Of course you do. “You love me, or at least you think you do, and
I --” Cameron's eyes opened wide as she bit her lower lip. House breathed out an
exclamation. “You know I think you're attractive.”
One corner of her mouth twitched involuntarily. She'd tried to have
a rational conversation with this man, and he had taken control of the exchange,
as usual. “You could be lying.”
“I could be, but I'm not. And I know that you're attracted to me.
Hence the hero worship.” He held up a hand to stop her from speaking. “It wouldn't
work. You know it; I sure as hell know it.”
An exclamation of surprise escaped her lips. “Since when did ethics
matter to you?”
“Screw ethics.” Cameron was taken aback by the forcefulness of the
remark. “Oops. Poor choice of words.”
“If you say so, Dr. Freud.
“Sorry, my slip is showing.” House absently grabbed his cane. “You
know, we could go have a quick fumble in the dark somewhere, but we'd both regret
it in the morning.”
“It doesn't have to be that way.”
“No, you'd rather we wait until say, the third date. Fine. The result
would still be the same.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“Yes it was. You just don't want to admit it.” Allison Cameron looked
away and picked at a button on her blouse. It was an unconscious action, purely
out of nerves. Suddenly she realized what she was doing, and her eyes shot back
across the desk, her hands falling into her lap. House was watching with a look
of detached fascination, as though he was eyeing bacteria under a microscope. “We
have to work together. If we have a . . . personal relationship, our professional
relationship will be compromised, and that will spill over into our work.”
“I thought you said this wasn't about ethics.”
“It isn't. It's about the practice of medicine. Once I care about
a patient as a person, that compromises my ability to do my job. It's the same with
a staff member. I can't let personal issues get in the way of medicine.”
Cameron looked back for a long moment. “What about Dr. Wilson?”
“Every rule has an exception. And even then I don't let our friendship
get in the way of our work.” He grasped his cane between his hands, staring at it
as he did so. “Besides, I don't want to have that kind of a relationship
with Wilson.”
Her eyes brightened. “Are you telling me . . .”
“Don't even go there.” He cut her off. “Just don't.”
She let the words soak in. This man was so inscrutable. One minute
he was practically propositioning her, the next he was telling her to back down.
Talk about mixed signals. Perhaps this was another one of his games: Play the emotions
and watch what happens. Cheap entertainment at her expense. She was determined to
handle this as professionally as possible, just to throw it back in this man's face
if nothing else. “Thank you for being so frank with me, Dr. House.”
He stood, steadying himself with his cane. “I'm glad we could clear
the air.”
Her plan was to leave the office slowly, to give the impression that
nothing was wrong. Instead, she stepped quickly to the door, closing it softly behind
her. Gregory House watched
as she vanished past his office, his eyes registering
a flicker of regret.
Allison Cameron's heels clicked on the linoleum floor as she briskly
made her way to the doctor's changing room, where she shoved her lab coat into her
locker and pulled her purse out so forcefully that it almost bruised her hip. Slamming
the locker door shut, she leaned against it and closed her eyes.
This was not working out.
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