dominique012 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dominique012) wrote2006-12-16 09:48 pm
dominique012) wrote2006-12-16 09:48 pm
Tiny, Silent Moments [1/1]
Title: Tiny, Silent Moments [1/1]
Pairing: House/Cameron
Rating: G
Summary: “It’s Christmas. Even my sharp wit takes a break during the holidays” House and Cameron at Christmas.
Spoilers: None. AU, really.
Author’s Note: Secret Santa gift for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
julester1. Hope you like it. Thank you for my first foray into house fic!
She walks quickly, yuletide toasts and glass-clinking following her down the hallway. Most of the offices are dark and empty now, but Christmas lights blink away in a few of them. She finds it surprisingly lonely.
The meeting room is dark and empty, but adorned with a respectable amount of Christmas regalia. Festoons of tinsel hang above the doors and windows, and a large bowl of candy canes sits on the long table, a tradition of its own. Not bothering to switch on the main light, she heads for her desk, flicks on the lamp. Grabs her bag and rummages in the drawer for a moment before retrieving a sprig of mistletoe.
"I think Chase'll kiss you without the weed." A familiar, low, mocking tone.
She jumps and silently curses, taking a breath. Leaning in the doorway to his office, he's hardly visible beyond the lit island of her desk.
"Actually, it was Chase who asked me for it. I think it's his idea of romance for one of the nurses."
House snorts. She turns back to the desk, slips her notebook into her bag.
"What are you doing here?" she asks him, "The free drinks are all down the hall."
He steps out of the doorway and towards her. In the pool of light now just encircling them, she meets his lazy gaze, letting hers trail down from his eyes to the line of his jaw and neck. She breathes in slightly but doesn’t sigh.
"I came to check on my download: "Naughty Santa and the ho, ho - ."
She smirks and raises a hand, "Ok, fine."
"And what are you doing here, all alone?"
She shoulders her bag, mistletoe in hand, "Leaving." A tight smile.
His mouth opens in mock-surprise "What? No Secret Santa for you? I'm shocked, Dr Cameron."
She grimaces, "Last year Dr. Meyer gave me a lace thong with his number on the tag. It kind of ruined it for me."
He leers in the semi-darkness and shakes his head, "I told him to go with the leather! Never trust an oncologist, they always get it wrong."
She doesn’t miss a beat. "Right. Leather feels so much nicer on bare skin." A smile plays around her mouth as she holds his gaze.
He’s toying with his own version of a smile, and grudgingly gives over with half a grin.
She notices for the first time that he’s holding a bottle of scotch, "Came back for reinforcements?"
House shrugs, “I’m just enlisting a little extra cheer. It’s like you with malted milk.”
She rolls her eyes, “Come on. Now you’re not even trying.”
“It’s Christmas. Even my sharp wit takes a break during the holidays.”
“And the cynicism, selfishness, self-loathing?” She can’t resist.
“Ah, well, some things never rest.”
She meets his pointed look with a smirk.
Looking down, she realizes that she’s still holding Chase’s mistletoe. And then frowns before asking again, “What are you doing in here?”
“Apparently having a meaningless, yet persistent conversation with you.”
“Exactly. Holding a bottle of scotch. In your office after hours. Not at the party. Just in here, chatting?”
He raises an eyebrow, “So, you’re complaining?” So smug. And yet, she still-
- sighs, brushing over her eyes as if to catch a stray hair. “I’m not –“ stopping, confused.
He’s looking at her with a mocking smile. Like he has a secret.
It’s a game, she concludes. And so she decides to play along.
She puts her bag back down and leans on the edge of the desk. House quirks an eyebrow.
“So,” she muses, “You’re in here, alone, holding a bottle of scotch, but not running away from humanity.”
“Yeah,” he drawls, “It’s a cry for help. I just need to talk to you about my feelings.”
She’s scathing, “Forget it. I know how that episode ends.”
He grins darkly and she feels a strange satisfaction.
She takes a moment in the pause of their strange, pointless conversation, to just look at this bizarre, lingering, somehow...relaxed version of House. It’s a strange kind of luxury, so unlike the rapid fire of their usual derisive snarking, or the momentary heat of occasional intense glances.
Her expression is curious as she wonders at the tiny, silent moments, and tries to absorb each one. He looks relaxed as he returns her silent, unwavering gaze. A hint of something - amusement or something else - is evident in his eyes. She tries to work it out as they stand there.
Her lips curve into a tiny smile. He’s not hiding. Something is different.
She has no idea why, and doesn’t really care. But she decides to run with it anyway.
He breaks the gaze finally, head tilted: “Oh, what? You looking for Jesus?”
She snickers, “Yeah, that’s it.” A pause, “No, I think your Christmas spirit is showing.”
He grins, “I thought I had that removed. They must have missed some.”
She straightens and picks up her bag. “I’m sure it’ll wear off by New Years. I think I’ll take advantage of it.”
She switches off the lamp and they’re thrown into darkness, a pale rectangle of light coming in from the hallway. House watches, bemused as she takes a few steps past him and then pauses, looking back. “You coming?”
He hangs back. “I don’t know.” He sounds doubtful. “I’ve got the booze. What are you bringing to the party?”
She holds it up, “I’ve got the mistletoe.” She pauses and looks brazenly at him, ”Hey, take it or leave it.”
He flashes a quick grin, and limps over to her. “Alright,” He snatches the mistletoe from her fingers. “I’ll take it.”
END
Pairing: House/Cameron
Rating: G
Summary: “It’s Christmas. Even my sharp wit takes a break during the holidays” House and Cameron at Christmas.
Spoilers: None. AU, really.
Author’s Note: Secret Santa gift for
julester1. Hope you like it. Thank you for my first foray into house fic! She walks quickly, yuletide toasts and glass-clinking following her down the hallway. Most of the offices are dark and empty now, but Christmas lights blink away in a few of them. She finds it surprisingly lonely.
The meeting room is dark and empty, but adorned with a respectable amount of Christmas regalia. Festoons of tinsel hang above the doors and windows, and a large bowl of candy canes sits on the long table, a tradition of its own. Not bothering to switch on the main light, she heads for her desk, flicks on the lamp. Grabs her bag and rummages in the drawer for a moment before retrieving a sprig of mistletoe.
"I think Chase'll kiss you without the weed." A familiar, low, mocking tone.
She jumps and silently curses, taking a breath. Leaning in the doorway to his office, he's hardly visible beyond the lit island of her desk.
"Actually, it was Chase who asked me for it. I think it's his idea of romance for one of the nurses."
House snorts. She turns back to the desk, slips her notebook into her bag.
"What are you doing here?" she asks him, "The free drinks are all down the hall."
He steps out of the doorway and towards her. In the pool of light now just encircling them, she meets his lazy gaze, letting hers trail down from his eyes to the line of his jaw and neck. She breathes in slightly but doesn’t sigh.
"I came to check on my download: "Naughty Santa and the ho, ho - ."
She smirks and raises a hand, "Ok, fine."
"And what are you doing here, all alone?"
She shoulders her bag, mistletoe in hand, "Leaving." A tight smile.
His mouth opens in mock-surprise "What? No Secret Santa for you? I'm shocked, Dr Cameron."
She grimaces, "Last year Dr. Meyer gave me a lace thong with his number on the tag. It kind of ruined it for me."
He leers in the semi-darkness and shakes his head, "I told him to go with the leather! Never trust an oncologist, they always get it wrong."
She doesn’t miss a beat. "Right. Leather feels so much nicer on bare skin." A smile plays around her mouth as she holds his gaze.
He’s toying with his own version of a smile, and grudgingly gives over with half a grin.
She notices for the first time that he’s holding a bottle of scotch, "Came back for reinforcements?"
House shrugs, “I’m just enlisting a little extra cheer. It’s like you with malted milk.”
She rolls her eyes, “Come on. Now you’re not even trying.”
“It’s Christmas. Even my sharp wit takes a break during the holidays.”
“And the cynicism, selfishness, self-loathing?” She can’t resist.
“Ah, well, some things never rest.”
She meets his pointed look with a smirk.
Looking down, she realizes that she’s still holding Chase’s mistletoe. And then frowns before asking again, “What are you doing in here?”
“Apparently having a meaningless, yet persistent conversation with you.”
“Exactly. Holding a bottle of scotch. In your office after hours. Not at the party. Just in here, chatting?”
He raises an eyebrow, “So, you’re complaining?” So smug. And yet, she still-
- sighs, brushing over her eyes as if to catch a stray hair. “I’m not –“ stopping, confused.
He’s looking at her with a mocking smile. Like he has a secret.
It’s a game, she concludes. And so she decides to play along.
She puts her bag back down and leans on the edge of the desk. House quirks an eyebrow.
“So,” she muses, “You’re in here, alone, holding a bottle of scotch, but not running away from humanity.”
“Yeah,” he drawls, “It’s a cry for help. I just need to talk to you about my feelings.”
She’s scathing, “Forget it. I know how that episode ends.”
He grins darkly and she feels a strange satisfaction.
She takes a moment in the pause of their strange, pointless conversation, to just look at this bizarre, lingering, somehow...relaxed version of House. It’s a strange kind of luxury, so unlike the rapid fire of their usual derisive snarking, or the momentary heat of occasional intense glances.
Her expression is curious as she wonders at the tiny, silent moments, and tries to absorb each one. He looks relaxed as he returns her silent, unwavering gaze. A hint of something - amusement or something else - is evident in his eyes. She tries to work it out as they stand there.
Her lips curve into a tiny smile. He’s not hiding. Something is different.
She has no idea why, and doesn’t really care. But she decides to run with it anyway.
He breaks the gaze finally, head tilted: “Oh, what? You looking for Jesus?”
She snickers, “Yeah, that’s it.” A pause, “No, I think your Christmas spirit is showing.”
He grins, “I thought I had that removed. They must have missed some.”
She straightens and picks up her bag. “I’m sure it’ll wear off by New Years. I think I’ll take advantage of it.”
She switches off the lamp and they’re thrown into darkness, a pale rectangle of light coming in from the hallway. House watches, bemused as she takes a few steps past him and then pauses, looking back. “You coming?”
He hangs back. “I don’t know.” He sounds doubtful. “I’ve got the booze. What are you bringing to the party?”
She holds it up, “I’ve got the mistletoe.” She pauses and looks brazenly at him, ”Hey, take it or leave it.”
He flashes a quick grin, and limps over to her. “Alright,” He snatches the mistletoe from her fingers. “I’ll take it.”
END
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