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A Serious Talk
by fyiagcg
Title: A Serious Talk
Fandom: House, M.D.
Characters/Pairings: House/Cameron
Rating: PG-13 (adult language)
Spoilers: None, really.
Summary: "Don't flatter yourself... You weren't the first, and you won't be the last. I've
known that from the start."
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I probably wouldn't be willing to share. Luckily, they
belong to Fox and David Shore and various other people that aren't me.
A/N: I'm an HP-verse gal, reader and writer, I've only just recently (2 weeks ago?
Less?,,,) started reading HouseFic. Tonight, I had an inspiration and since I've been
completely writer's-blocked for over 6 months now, I decided it would not be in my best
interest to ignore such a flaky muse. This is my first House FanFic, and I would love to
know what you think... ConCrit is cool, but please don't be too mean. And yes, I know
House is a little OOC, forgive me.
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"Dr. Cameron, could I speak to you please?"
Foreman and Chase looked at her questioningly, but she just shrugged and rose from her
chair to go speak to her boss. Calling her Dr. Cameron instead of Cameron was odd for
House. Saying please, well... she wondered if he'd been abducted by aliens. Even though
she had been sleeping with him for over six months now, it was still strange for him to be
polite ever, much less at the office.
House drew the blinds and invited her to sit down. Instead of sitting behind his desk, as
he usually did, he drew his chair around to sit close to her.
"Allison, there's something really important that I need to talk to you about."
Immediately her heart leapt into her throat. The week before, they had lost a patient. The
right diagnosis had come to House only moments before the woman's death, and by the
time the three younger doctors had arrived at her room with a cure, she was flat-lining.
Try as they might, the doctors were unable to bring her back, and House had cruelly sent
Cameron to tell the patient's husband. He had been devastated, wept openly, and right as
she went to hug or somehow comfort him, House had appeared and dragged her away.
They hadn't been intimate since. They'd barely spoken.
"You know," he began, "that I was very hesitant to enter into a relationship with you in
the first place." She nodded, holding her breath. "You assured me, however, that you
knew exactly what you were getting into. That I am not a nice man. I am not the kind of
man that celebrates a six-week anniversary with roses, chocolate, and submissive sex. I
usually refuse to sleep on the wet-spot, for Christ's sake. You know that," she nodded,
"but despite my misgivings and warnings, you and I became a... we."
She knew what was coming, and willed her tear ducts to remain in control.
"You know my history. Whether I ever wanted you to know or not, and I didn't," he
added, giving her a reproachful look, "you know what happened between me and Stacy,
and the effect that she had." Allison nodded dumbly. "And I know all about your dead
husband." She flinched at that, still a bit shocked that he would so bluntly refer to her
marriage.
"What we have, what's been going on between us, you and I both knew, we both know,
that it was pretty much against all of the laws of nature."
"Greg-" she said, her voice breaking. She began again. "House. I know. It's fine. We
both knew that this wasn't going to stay this way forever. And I'm okay with that."
"You are?" he said, apparently holding back a smirk.
"Don't flatter yourself." The smirk faded from his face quickly at her words. "You
weren't the first, and you won't be the last. I've known that from the start."
For the first time since her fellowship had begun, Allison Cameron saw Gregory House
stunned silent.
"I'm a big girl and I don't need coddling, whether you think I do or not. If it's over, it's
over. I won't make a big deal of it. We had a good run while it lasted. I'm fine with going
back to being... well, not friends, not even co-workers. Boss and employee. I won't make
a fuss. I can handle it. Whatever you think, the loss of you is not going to break me." She
hoped he believed her, or at least would be willing to act as though he believed her. She
was as proud as he was, and if he had ever cared about her at all, he would let this end
with her dignity intact. Of course it was all bullshit. She was in love with him, madly
deeply and painfully. But she would not get down on her knees and beg him not to leave
her.
When he was finally able to wipe away the stunned look and slack-jawed silence he had
adopted while she spoke, his face held an expression that Allison couldn't quite place.
"I'm not trying to break things off with you."
She snorted and looked at him, daring him to explain his actions.
"I was trying to propose."
"Propose?" she asked, disbelievingly. "Marriage?"
He gave her a look that said `what else would I be proposing?' and for a second,
the heart that she had moments ago felt break into little pieces was reassembled and filled
with joy and love.
`Could he really want to marry me?' she asked herself. She looked at
him, those blue eyes that had made her breath catch since the first time she'd seen him.
That mouth that could destroy even the strongest person with a few words, but when not
occupied with insults could make her melt. His hands, which both saved lives and gave
her pleasure. She loved him very much, and knew she was ready to take back everything
that she had said when thinking that he was breaking it off.
It was that thought that brought her back to reality.
"You asshole," she hissed. His shocked expression only reaffirmed her
realization. "You are so fucked up it's not even amusing."
His mouth opened, but for the second time in ten minutes, he was speechless.
"Do you really want to hurt me so much?"
He looked confused and she only became angrier at his manipulative skills.
"You weren't getting the desired reaction... you expected me to cry and ask how you
could do this to me and beg you to not leave me. And when I didn't... you thought your
plans were ruined." His eyebrows knit together and she decided to be somewhat honest.
"Alright, fine. You want to know the truth? Yes, the idea of losing you hurts. Is that what
you wanted to hear? Is that what you want? For me to `accept your proposal' just
to prove your assumption that I do in fact love you, and then watch me shatter when you
reveal that your intention was, all along, to get rid of me? Do you really want, so much,
to see me so hurt? You're a sociopath!" She was yelling now, and didn't really care who
heard her. "How could I ever have loved you? You're incapable of love! All you want is
to be proven right and show that you're better than everyone else! You want to get my
hopes up just so you can watch me go through a satisfactory heartbreak? Well I'm not
going to give you a chance. Fuck You!"
She was standing, she wasn't sure when it had happened but her chair was overturned and
her whole body was shaking. She turned from him and walked to the door.
She pushed the door open so hard that it almost broke, and strode purposefully down the
hallway to the elevators. She heard him coming after her but knew that he wouldn't be
quick enough. When the elevator didn't open right away, she chose the stairwell,
knowing there was no way he could follow her down there.
She slammed the stairway door open at the lobby and collided with Dr. Wilson. He began
apologizing profusely before he saw who he had run into. A grin split his face and she
suddenly lost all respect for him.
"Did you talk to House?" he asked her, that shit-eating grin so wide that she had to clench
her fists to keep from slapping him.
"I thought you were better than that." She said to him, and his smile quickly disappeared.
"That man..." she pointed somewhere behind and above her, not really worried about the
direction, "he revels in the pain of others. He thrives on it. I never could have believed
that you would find such joy in my pain and humiliation." His eyes were wide and his
mouth hung open. "Well, fuck you both," she said, shoving past him.
She could out-run House but Wilson wasn't hindered with a cane. He grabbed her arm
before she had gone more than a yard.
"He didn't propose?" he asked, baffled.
It was Allison's turn to stare, dumbfounded. Had House not only told his best pal Jimmy
about his plans to break her heart, but also planned the extra blow just in case she reacted
too well?
The elevator doors opened and House came towards her, like a charging bull... with a
limp.
Wilson let go of her just in time to be shoved away by the angry man. For a second she
thought, irrationally she was sure, that he might hit her, especially when his left arm came
up towards his chest.
Instead, he reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
He held it out to her and deftly opened it with one hand, keeping the other firmly on his
cane.
Inside sat a diamond ring.
"I love you," he said, somehow making it sound like both an accusation and an insult. "I
want to spend the rest of my life with you." Despite his loving words, his eyes still held a
trace of hardness.
She suspected it might have something to do with her accusing him of being a sociopath
and telling him to fuck himself.
Carefully, and wincing with pain, Gregory House got down onto his left knee. Wilson
was there to grab his cane as he let go of it. If she didn't know better, she could swear she
saw a tear glisten in the oncologist's eye.
"Allison Cameron," said House, taking one of her hands and still holding out the ring-box.
"Despite that little outburst, I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?"
She sank to her knees and hugged him, kissed him. Through her tears she repeated yes,
yes, yes... and he slipped the ring onto her finger. They kissed passionately until his
best friend began to clear his throat and the couple realized they were making out at the
door to the clinic.
Two thoughts sprung, unbidden, into Allison Cameron's mind. The first was `I'm
going to marry Greg House, the man I love.' The second, slightly alarming thought,
was `He is never going to let me forget this.'
Please post a comment on this story.
Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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