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escapingreality2008-07-31 04:25 pm
scruffyduck.livejournal.com) wrote in escapingreality2008-07-31 04:25 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Title: Not Entirely Anything
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rolleson
Fandom: House
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing: House/Cameron
Spoilers: Up to House's Head
Warnings: violence.
Summery: Hangovers pack a punch.
Notes: Part Eight. 1600 words.
i.You Can Never Be Too Careful
ii.Treading Water
iii.Illogical Maybes
iv.Irrelevant Changes
v.The Symptomatology Of Things
vi.The Eye Of The Beholder
vii.The Inhibition Of Enzymes (and other things)
She was furious. Not with House but herself, and her actions the night before. From the moment she gulped down her wine, to the moment she kissed House. She didn't regret the kiss too much, even drunk he could kiss well enough so she lost the feeling in her toes. Which could've just as easily been the cold, or the drink, but she wasn't thinking so rationally. Not with a hang over like she hadn't felt since college. Or high school.
She would've slept with him last night. She had been more than drunk enough to pull him into her apartment and have terrible alcohol fueled sex. Which she had wanted then, but now, she knew she would've regretted sleeping with him. She wanted more, the hopeless romantic in her wanted different, wanted it to be special. Which was pathetic, (and the hangover certainly made her feel pathetic), but she couldn't help it.
Worst of all, his out of character gentlemanly conduct had made her fall just that little bit more in love with him.
She spent a couple of extra hours in bed, instead of going for a run or reading some of the backlog of medical journals. She knew every step on the treadmill would make her stomach lurch, every word make her head spin. This is why you don't get drunk Allison, she told herself, pulling the covers over her head and growling.
She just wanted to forget yesterday altogether. Forget about House and Chase, the ER, hell, the hospital entirely. Blink it out of her mind until her head stopped thumping. There wasn't enough Tylenol in the world for her hangover.
Her phone started to ring and she peeked out from beneath the covers. She could hear it but couldn't see her phone and covered herself up again, hiding from the daylight that hurt her eyes, and the world that hurt her heart. After a few rings the answer machine kicked in and she listened as the caller sighed, then hung up.
House, she thought. House could wait. Everything could wait.
*****
"House!" He heard his name called out across the lobby but ignored it, and kept walking towards the main door of the hospital. "House!" Someone sounded angry, and closer. He looked up in time to a see a flash of Chase's face, distorted with anger, then the man's fist quickly going out of focus as it connected hard with his face. Everyone around them stopped, gasped, as House fell backwards onto the smooth floor, his cane following with a clatter.
"I don't know what you did, or said," the young doctor heaved out through harsh breaths, looking down at him.
"Neither do I," House said, feeling his lip. He grabbed his cane and went to stand up. "A little help for the cripple!" he cried out to the small crowd now dispersing. A couple of nurses ran to his side and heaved him up, he gave them a sarcastic, "thank you," then shooed them away with his hands. He opened his mouth to say something to Chase, who looked a little less angry, when Cuddy's voice came clear across the lobby.
"House! Chase!" she cried, "my office now!"
"Oh-oh," House sang with a grim smile, his lip cut and swollen, "you know this only just healed up right?" he added. Chase glared at him in a way he hadn't known the young man capable of and walked ahead of him to Cuddy's office. House smiled to himself, a little more respect for him than before. Just a little. He was confident in his walk, and probably right to be so cocky in his step, House would get the blame, he got the blame for everything. Okay, a good percentage of things that went wrong in the hospital were his fault, but this, he wasn't so sure this was his fault. Entirely.
Sure enough though, Cuddy's first words were directed at him.
"What were you thinking?" she hissed. House looked across at Chase, leaning on forward on his cane.
"I was thinking lunch, then a movie before Chase gave me a fat lip," he said. Cuddy moved around her desk, rummaging in her filing cabinet. She walked up to him and shoved an ice pack into his chest, smiling at the tiny 'ompf' noise he made.
"You probably deserved it," she said, "what did you do?"
"I don't know," he mumbled over the ice pack on his lip.
"What did he do?" she asked Chase, her tone softer for him.
"Cameron dumped me yesterday," he said as if it explained everything.
"Oh."
"That's not my fault," House protested, "does explain why she got trashed last night though."
"I have a few golden rules when it comes to House, Dr Chase, and you should know them better than anyone," House smiled, "one of them involves not taking your frustration with him, out on him in front of patients."
"I still don't see how this is my fault," House said, "I didn't even see her yesterday, at least, not after breakfast." Cuddy looked at him, mouth open in shock. "It wasn't like that, jeez, such a dirty mind for an administrator. Oh and we had a drink last night. Well several. A couple of bottles, wine for her, scotch for me. Not particularly good scotch, but after half a bottle, you can't taste anything anyway, I didn't ask if the wine was any good. Maybe I should've, but then, that's something you'd do, so maybe not if I don't want to be dumped."
"House! Do you want him to punch you again?!" Cuddy said, taking a step forward and Chase balled his hands into fists. "Cause I'll let him."
"I didn't do anything! Cameron got bored with him that's all. The sex was probably okay, he's had enough practice, but Cameron is way more complicated," he said, talking to Cuddy not Chase.
"What did you say to her?"
"I promise, on Cuddy's life, okay Wilson's life, I need him more, that, on our five dinners, the four times we went out for drinks, seven lunches and one breakfast, I did not say anything that would cause Allison Cameron to dump you."
"Yeah right," Chase spat out. He was angry, he had every right to be angry, but House knew this mostly wasn't his fault. He also knew that he was happy. Which was good. And bad. His leg throbbed, then his lip throbbed a second later, the two pains synchronising with each other.
"Cameron is complicated, there are lots of things about that woman that even I haven't figured out, which is damn frustrating," he said, "which is why I hadn't fired her, because I wasn't done working her all out. I mean, I get that she's damaged, like a kid chewed off part of a jigsaw piece, so it won't fit with the others and complete her," he paused, "terrible metaphor, but you get my point." She looked to Cuddy, who was leaning against her desk now, poised in case Chase hit him again. "As annoying as she is, I quite like that about her, but then, that's the only thing I actually like about my patients."
"You're a bastard House, that's all there is too it."
"You, on the other hand, are simple. Your daddy was an asshole, from an early age, so you need someone else to take his place in your life, and to suck up to. For three years that was me, and I was a terrible father, now it's Johnson. Who also drinks by the way." He looked at Cuddy but she was watching Chase still, and House took a step forward instead of back. If Chase was going to take another shot let him, he usually did deserve it. He wasn't entirely innocent, he'd pushed and played with Cameron, not always consciously though. He was drawn to the woman, more so recently. Because she was a beautiful puzzle.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but Cameron is her own woman, if she wants to leave you, she will, she wants to have me, she will." Chase's fist connected with his face again and he smiled until everything went black.
*****
"House pushed him into it," Cuddy said, standing over House on the sofa in her office. She hadn't bothered to get a nurse, or move him anywhere. She'd called Wilson, they'd put him on her sofa and she'd left him there to come around. "I sent him home."
"Cameron kissed him." Wilson told her
"What?"
"He said, Cameron kissed me," House muttered, stirring on her sofa, the ice pack she had balanced on his face falling to the floor with his movements. "You call this care?" he asked, sitting up slowly eyes still closed.
"You don't deserve any care."
"Cameron kissed me!" He opened his eyes to see Cuddy and Wilson standing next to each other in front of him.
"I'm sure you've done something else to deserve a split lip," she said.
"I know it's unlikely for you to do something that might be considered nice, or the right thing," Wilson said, "but you need to apologise to Chase and sort things out with Cameron."
"Cameron should sort things out with me," he said, feeling his lip, "this needs stitches you know," he told Cuddy.
"No it doesn't."
"Fine, I'm going to sue you then. Know any good lawyers?" he asked Wilson.
"Sort this mess out House," he said, leaving the office.
"Get a nurse to patch your lip up," Cuddy said, "then go cure your patient."
"I have a patient?"
Author:
rollesonFandom: House
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing: House/Cameron
Spoilers: Up to House's Head
Warnings: violence.
Summery: Hangovers pack a punch.
Notes: Part Eight. 1600 words.
i.You Can Never Be Too Careful
ii.Treading Water
iii.Illogical Maybes
iv.Irrelevant Changes
v.The Symptomatology Of Things
vi.The Eye Of The Beholder
vii.The Inhibition Of Enzymes (and other things)
She was furious. Not with House but herself, and her actions the night before. From the moment she gulped down her wine, to the moment she kissed House. She didn't regret the kiss too much, even drunk he could kiss well enough so she lost the feeling in her toes. Which could've just as easily been the cold, or the drink, but she wasn't thinking so rationally. Not with a hang over like she hadn't felt since college. Or high school.
She would've slept with him last night. She had been more than drunk enough to pull him into her apartment and have terrible alcohol fueled sex. Which she had wanted then, but now, she knew she would've regretted sleeping with him. She wanted more, the hopeless romantic in her wanted different, wanted it to be special. Which was pathetic, (and the hangover certainly made her feel pathetic), but she couldn't help it.
Worst of all, his out of character gentlemanly conduct had made her fall just that little bit more in love with him.
She spent a couple of extra hours in bed, instead of going for a run or reading some of the backlog of medical journals. She knew every step on the treadmill would make her stomach lurch, every word make her head spin. This is why you don't get drunk Allison, she told herself, pulling the covers over her head and growling.
She just wanted to forget yesterday altogether. Forget about House and Chase, the ER, hell, the hospital entirely. Blink it out of her mind until her head stopped thumping. There wasn't enough Tylenol in the world for her hangover.
Her phone started to ring and she peeked out from beneath the covers. She could hear it but couldn't see her phone and covered herself up again, hiding from the daylight that hurt her eyes, and the world that hurt her heart. After a few rings the answer machine kicked in and she listened as the caller sighed, then hung up.
House, she thought. House could wait. Everything could wait.
"House!" He heard his name called out across the lobby but ignored it, and kept walking towards the main door of the hospital. "House!" Someone sounded angry, and closer. He looked up in time to a see a flash of Chase's face, distorted with anger, then the man's fist quickly going out of focus as it connected hard with his face. Everyone around them stopped, gasped, as House fell backwards onto the smooth floor, his cane following with a clatter.
"I don't know what you did, or said," the young doctor heaved out through harsh breaths, looking down at him.
"Neither do I," House said, feeling his lip. He grabbed his cane and went to stand up. "A little help for the cripple!" he cried out to the small crowd now dispersing. A couple of nurses ran to his side and heaved him up, he gave them a sarcastic, "thank you," then shooed them away with his hands. He opened his mouth to say something to Chase, who looked a little less angry, when Cuddy's voice came clear across the lobby.
"House! Chase!" she cried, "my office now!"
"Oh-oh," House sang with a grim smile, his lip cut and swollen, "you know this only just healed up right?" he added. Chase glared at him in a way he hadn't known the young man capable of and walked ahead of him to Cuddy's office. House smiled to himself, a little more respect for him than before. Just a little. He was confident in his walk, and probably right to be so cocky in his step, House would get the blame, he got the blame for everything. Okay, a good percentage of things that went wrong in the hospital were his fault, but this, he wasn't so sure this was his fault. Entirely.
Sure enough though, Cuddy's first words were directed at him.
"What were you thinking?" she hissed. House looked across at Chase, leaning on forward on his cane.
"I was thinking lunch, then a movie before Chase gave me a fat lip," he said. Cuddy moved around her desk, rummaging in her filing cabinet. She walked up to him and shoved an ice pack into his chest, smiling at the tiny 'ompf' noise he made.
"You probably deserved it," she said, "what did you do?"
"I don't know," he mumbled over the ice pack on his lip.
"What did he do?" she asked Chase, her tone softer for him.
"Cameron dumped me yesterday," he said as if it explained everything.
"Oh."
"That's not my fault," House protested, "does explain why she got trashed last night though."
"I have a few golden rules when it comes to House, Dr Chase, and you should know them better than anyone," House smiled, "one of them involves not taking your frustration with him, out on him in front of patients."
"I still don't see how this is my fault," House said, "I didn't even see her yesterday, at least, not after breakfast." Cuddy looked at him, mouth open in shock. "It wasn't like that, jeez, such a dirty mind for an administrator. Oh and we had a drink last night. Well several. A couple of bottles, wine for her, scotch for me. Not particularly good scotch, but after half a bottle, you can't taste anything anyway, I didn't ask if the wine was any good. Maybe I should've, but then, that's something you'd do, so maybe not if I don't want to be dumped."
"House! Do you want him to punch you again?!" Cuddy said, taking a step forward and Chase balled his hands into fists. "Cause I'll let him."
"I didn't do anything! Cameron got bored with him that's all. The sex was probably okay, he's had enough practice, but Cameron is way more complicated," he said, talking to Cuddy not Chase.
"What did you say to her?"
"I promise, on Cuddy's life, okay Wilson's life, I need him more, that, on our five dinners, the four times we went out for drinks, seven lunches and one breakfast, I did not say anything that would cause Allison Cameron to dump you."
"Yeah right," Chase spat out. He was angry, he had every right to be angry, but House knew this mostly wasn't his fault. He also knew that he was happy. Which was good. And bad. His leg throbbed, then his lip throbbed a second later, the two pains synchronising with each other.
"Cameron is complicated, there are lots of things about that woman that even I haven't figured out, which is damn frustrating," he said, "which is why I hadn't fired her, because I wasn't done working her all out. I mean, I get that she's damaged, like a kid chewed off part of a jigsaw piece, so it won't fit with the others and complete her," he paused, "terrible metaphor, but you get my point." She looked to Cuddy, who was leaning against her desk now, poised in case Chase hit him again. "As annoying as she is, I quite like that about her, but then, that's the only thing I actually like about my patients."
"You're a bastard House, that's all there is too it."
"You, on the other hand, are simple. Your daddy was an asshole, from an early age, so you need someone else to take his place in your life, and to suck up to. For three years that was me, and I was a terrible father, now it's Johnson. Who also drinks by the way." He looked at Cuddy but she was watching Chase still, and House took a step forward instead of back. If Chase was going to take another shot let him, he usually did deserve it. He wasn't entirely innocent, he'd pushed and played with Cameron, not always consciously though. He was drawn to the woman, more so recently. Because she was a beautiful puzzle.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but Cameron is her own woman, if she wants to leave you, she will, she wants to have me, she will." Chase's fist connected with his face again and he smiled until everything went black.
"House pushed him into it," Cuddy said, standing over House on the sofa in her office. She hadn't bothered to get a nurse, or move him anywhere. She'd called Wilson, they'd put him on her sofa and she'd left him there to come around. "I sent him home."
"Cameron kissed him." Wilson told her
"What?"
"He said, Cameron kissed me," House muttered, stirring on her sofa, the ice pack she had balanced on his face falling to the floor with his movements. "You call this care?" he asked, sitting up slowly eyes still closed.
"You don't deserve any care."
"Cameron kissed me!" He opened his eyes to see Cuddy and Wilson standing next to each other in front of him.
"I'm sure you've done something else to deserve a split lip," she said.
"I know it's unlikely for you to do something that might be considered nice, or the right thing," Wilson said, "but you need to apologise to Chase and sort things out with Cameron."
"Cameron should sort things out with me," he said, feeling his lip, "this needs stitches you know," he told Cuddy.
"No it doesn't."
"Fine, I'm going to sue you then. Know any good lawyers?" he asked Wilson.
"Sort this mess out House," he said, leaving the office.
"Get a nurse to patch your lip up," Cuddy said, "then go cure your patient."
"I have a patient?"