Writing Time Is On My Side has been my Mary Poppins: it fixed my life, and now that I'm perfectly happy it's time for it to be over. That doesn't make me any less sad to see it go. Thank you to everyone who has helped me with it, because I really couldn't have done so nice a job with out you. Thank you to my fellow authors for encouraging me along the way and making me feel special, especially naiveeve. Thank you to the people who have said it's they're favorite (my favorite word to hear!) especially katej. Thank you to everyone who has commented: you will never know how much it has meant to me. Thank you to dragynflies for the perfect ending, to this story and mine.
Chapter 34: Any Time You Want
"A non-emergency for a change." House handed them each a patient file and sauntered to the whiteboard. "Patient feels creepy crawlies that no one can see."
When Cameron opened hers she found a red envelope on top of the history marked "Open at 4pm." As Chase and Foreman read the history she'd taken, she gave House a puzzled look. He ignored it.
Chase leaned back in his chair. "Delusional parasitosis."
"Repeating her GP's diagnosis, bold tactic." House wrote 'actual parasites' on the whiteboard. "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not after you."
"It doesn't mean they are after you either," Forman retorted. "If there were parasites the GP would have diagnosed them."
House rolled his eyes. "Because so many of our patients were properly diagnosed by their quack of a family doctor."
Cameron got over her surprise and curiosity about the card enough to chime in. "Even if there is no medical cause of the lesions we should find out the psychological cause."
"Chase and Foreman search the home, Cameron run labs. Look at the skin under a microscope, I bet GP didn't bother."
Chase was skeptical. "What exactly are we looking for at the home?"
"Maybe you'll develop delusions of parasites too. Then at least you'll take an active interest in the case."
oOoOoOo
By noon Cameron had identified four different parasites affecting the patient's skin: all of them easy to miss, all of them things a healthy immune system would have precluded. By afternoon treatment seemed to be confirming their tentative diagnosis of borreliosis as the underlying cause. She checked on the patient one last time, then hung up her lab coat and stethoscope at her desk, and opened the card.
Do
you remember the first time you asked me out? You didn't have a
chance, and you knew it. No fear of rejection. Or if you were afraid
you didn't let it stop you. All those times I said no it was
because I was sure that once you had me you'd realize your mistake
and drop me like a bad habit. I couldn't take losing
you. I wanted you to want me, and I can't understand why you
still do. You'll find the next card where you first asked
me out.
Cameron replaced the card in the envelope and looked around. She didn't see him, but she felt like he was watching. She didn't know where this whole thing was leading, but she had a feeling it was somewhere past the hospital's cafeteria. Her eyes were damp with emotion as she smoothed her fingers over the envelope. After all she'd written for him it was gorgeous to have something tangible from him—physical evidence that he loved her.
oOoOoOo
The cafeteria was mostly deserted. She made her way over to the table where she'd interrupted House's lunch with Wilson to invite him to see Borat. She still hadn't seen it and she made a mental note to rent it for the weekend. On the table she found a discarded tray: crust of rye bread and an empty coke can. The floor was littered with pickle slices. House had been here. Beside the tray was envelope number two.
The
first time you kissed me was a missed opportunity for you—I'd
have done anything you said. That was the first time I
realized you weren't as innocent as you looked, that you might
actually be serious, might have always been serious. It was a
torturous thought: that I could have had you all that time, and
didn't.
She smiled as she closed the envelope, then carried his tray to the trash can. The pickle slices she left behind. Maybe eventually the cafeteria staff would get the message. It annoyed her that they picked on him; that was her job.
oOoOoOo
She found the third note taped to the wall in a shadowed alcove just around the corner from Cuddy's office. She remembered how sexy it had been when he pulled her out of sight, how her face had flushed and her heart raced when she kissed him. It was completely unplanned—she had even made a date with Parker that afternoon! She hadn't been able to resist him then, and she likely never would.
There's
no particularly romantic reason to send you up there, but he misses
you. And I think that missing you would be the worst thing that could
ever happen to me. I told him not to get any ideas. You're
mine.
She giggled. She supposed it could mean Wilson, but she highly doubted it. She made for the elevator.
oOoOoOo
Stan lay in his bed, quiet and long-suffering as always. An envelope stood propped by the fingers of each of his hands. The envelope in the near hand was red and matched the others she carried, while the far hand bore a pink one. She opened that first.
Choose me instead. You know he's an asshole.
She laughed and added the note to her collection. "You're probably right Stan, but there's something about him. I'm sorry." She kissed his forehead, then opened the red envelope.
The time we…violated hospital policy…
It was the most cryptic note so far—the team was always violating hospital policy. But she knew this "we" didn't refer to the team. She crossed her fingers that she'd find more than a card in the MRI control room. She was in the mood for a repeat performance.
oOoOoOo
She was only mildly disappointed to find an envelope instead of him, and quickly opened it. She felt herself getting wet as she read.
Having
you in the hospital was a long standing fantasy of mine. Even before
you were hired; I fantasized about you during your interview. So I
was completely stoked that you let me get away with it. Then
when I asked you if you'd ever imagined us there, and you said
yes—fuck. Nothing could be hotter than knowing that you fantasized
about it too. Knowing that you wanted me, knowing that anyone could
see us…it was amazing. Every time with you is amazing. Of
course, I'm not as good a writer as you are.
He was a better actor than she had thought! She wondered how she had missed the fact he'd read her latest journal entry. How long had he been planning this? Cameron practically ran to her car.
oOoOoOo
He wasn't parked on their block, and her fears were confirmed when she searched the apartment. He wasn't there. She sighed heavily, and walked to the book case. Tucked into the journal was a red envelope. Her hands shook with excitement and she opened it.
What
you wrote—The Story of You and Me—nothing I could say could ever
come close to paying you back. Except maybe, I will always
love you. I want you to be mine forever. Marry me.
She read it twice to be sure. "Oh my god."
"You didn't even notice the box."
Cameron gasped and spun around to see House leaning in the doorway. She stood stunned as he walked towards her and took the small velvet box from the bookshelf, opened it, and slipped the ring on her finger. She kept staring at it, open-mouthed. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck in such a way that she could keep the ring in sight.
In a few seconds she had recovered enough to speak. "We're getting married," she said, in a tone that seemed to request confirmation.
"We're getting married. Anytime you want."
FIN