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06 August 2007 @ 08:41 pm
Every Night [House MD; Wilson/Cameron]  
TITLE: Every Night
FANDOM: House, M.D.
PAIRING: Wilson/Cameron
SPOILERS: None, really
RATING: PG
SUMMARY:


*****

Every night she waits for him, outside the hospital... sitting on a bench in front of a brick wall, putzing with her fingers and nervously fingering her hair. And every night when she sees him emerge from the front doors, she rises... wipes her palms on her pants as if she's a nervous schoolgirl with a crush. It's become somewhat of a routine. And every night when he emerges with his briefcase, he takes a moment to stop... watch her rise to her feet. His free hand always slips into his pocket, jingling his keys, and he smiles at her. For him, it's almost like coming home to someone again. That hadn't felt good in a long time.

When he and Julie stopped talking he didn't want to come home to anyone ever again. In fact, he hadn't wanted to go home ever again. He'd spend nights in his office, sleeping on his couch. He had taken to keeping extra shirts and chinos and ties just so he wouldn't have any reason to return home. Julie had started sleeping with one of her colleagues and he'd wished he had been surprised. She had taken up with her sister shortly after that and once again James had been able to return home. With nobody to go home to, it had felt nice. Now? Now, he likes this familiar feeling. He likes feeling that he belongs somewhere... with someone. He just never imagined experiencing that feeling with her.

Every night when he smiles at Allison, she smiles back, a thousand mega-watts, and her entire posture relaxes. He's often wondered, but never asked, why he makes her so nervous. He feels like he comes off as fairly docile... not someone who would pounce. What does she have to be afraid of?

Every night he ambles up to her slowly... one hand gripping his briefcase and the other holding his keys in his pocket. He continues to smile at her until they're nearly toe-to-toe, and this is when he says, "Hi." It's warm... oozing with an affection he can't seem to keep in check around her.

"Hi." She says it right back, tilts her head and gives him a darling, adoring smile, and every time he sees it he's got an urge to laugh. Not because she looks funny... but because it's so damned beautiful and sexy and sweet that laughing is the only thing he remembers how to do.

Like every night, he wants to kiss her... not wantonly, not desperately like a lover... but a sweet, loving kiss as if saying, "Honey, I'm home." But every night he somehow manages to hold himself back.

Allison holds out one hand as she does every night and, with a smile, James hands over his briefcase. She grins in response and holds it at her side, then takes his hand. She started doing this a week ago, when she decided that good friends holding hands wasn't any big deal. He hadn't necessarily agreed -- he never held hands with House while walking to their cars before -- but he allowed it purely because he'd become addicted to the spark he felt each time they touched palm-to-palm... each time their fingers laced together.

Every night he has to look down at their hands as they join... as their fingers slowly link... as if he needs to make sure that it's actually happening. Then they start walking in silence, each of them smiling, hearts a little lighter than they'd been during working hours... during the difficult cases and heavy loads. They reach his car and Allison lets him open the passenger-side door for her. He gets to drive her home tonight. Every Tuesday they ride together, and he gets the privilege of dropping her off at home.

She climbs in and smiles up at him again, setting his briefcase down between her feet. He smiles back and gently shuts the door, then goes around to his side and gets in. On the way back to her place they make idle chatter as they do every time he drives her home. They talk about their most recent cases... old cases... inane anecdotes from long ago. Before they know it, they're parked in her driveway.

Every time they do this they try to extend the conversation as long as they possibly can... until the point where it gets downright awkward. He can feel the spark and he knows by the way Allison shyly smiles that she feels the spark, too. He knows it would be way too easy to lean across the console and just kiss her. But he's never crossed the line. He doesn't want to make her nervous. He doesn't want to make the same mistake with her he's made with all the women from his past. She's different. She's special.

Every night their time together ends with an awkward promise that they'll see each other tomorrow. Sometimes a shy wave is exchanged, and more smiles.

Tonight? Tonight, Allison tilts her head in the direction of her front door. She asks him if he'll walk her to the door. He raises his eyebrows and knows that if he were House, he'd make a crack about her getting lost along that long, long way to the door. But he's not House. When he jokes with her, it's not antagonistic or cutting, bordering on an insult. And unlike House, he sees what's right in front of him.

So he smiles. Tells her that he'd be happy to walk her to the door. And he tells her to wait. He loves opening her car door for her. Because then he gets to hold his hand out and wait for her to place her hand in his. Then she smiles gratefully and thanks him for helping her to her feet. His briefcase is forgotten in the car as he walks her to her door. They both move slowly, his hand at her lower back, neither still really wanting the evening to end. Her porch light is on and they stand awkwardly on her doorstep while she fumbles for her keys.

To James, this feels strangely like a date, even though this is somewhat of a routine for them. He has an urge to reach out and slide his hands across her waist, so as a preventative measure, he shoves his hands in his pockets and awkwardly shuffles his feet, watching his shoes as if the moonlight bouncing off them is the most fascinating sight. Allison thanks him for driving her home and as usual, he says it's no trouble. Even though they both know she lives in the completely opposite direction from him. He'd drive three counties out of his way for her. And he thinks she might know this already.

There's another awkward moment in which she jingles her keys in one hand and he shuffles his feet. When he looks up, his heart jumps into his throat as he sees her coming toward him. For a second, it looks like she's going to kiss his cheek. But she stops just inches away and meets his eyes, searches them. There's a move to be made, one that involves either stepping back or stepping forward. He has no idea what the better decision would be.

Luckily, Allison makes the decision for him. With a decisive smile, she reaches around and cups the back of his neck, then presses her lips firmly to his. For a moment, he's stunned... blinks a few times before realization hits him and his eyes snap shut. His hands leave the safety of his pockets to slide around her waist and the kiss deepens. They smile against each other's lips as if having just exchanged a silent joke. He starts to pull away then, wanting to say something, but she doesn't let go. She grabs him a little tighter around the neck and slants her lips over his, deepening the kiss all over again, so he chuckles against her lips.

James likes assertive women. He's never really fallen for the delicate flowers, the fragile, meek women who'll agree with every word he says. He's always liked a woman to have a mind of her own... to have confidence. He loves a woman ballsy enough to be the one to kiss first. To him, there's no greater courage. And he admires courageous women. Allison is assertive, ballsy... courageous; her soul is slightly battered like his own and, like him, she probably misses coming home to someone as well; misses lying next to someone... every night.

That's confirmed when their lips finally part and she breathes against him, "Come inside, James."

He searches her eyes and though her lips say "come inside," her eyes clearly say, "come home."

And he doesn't need to ask if she's sure. That's written clearly in her eyes as well. So he nods... swallows, hard... and replies breathlessly, "Yes."

He's rewarded another thousand mega-watt smile before Allison yanks on his tie, lips colliding again while she fumbles to unlock the door. She drags him inside and doesn't even bother to turn on the lights.





FIN




{x-posted to cameron_wilson}
 
 
 
tasha svetabitingbedbugz on August 10th, 2007 07:10 am (UTC)
I think we're fandom twins. Srsly.

He hadn't necessarily agreed -- he never held hands with House while walking to their cars before -- but he allowed it purely because he'd become addicted to the spark he felt each time they touched palm-to-palm... each time their fingers laced together.

Love this line - perfect balance of humor and 'aww' factor.

Wilson/Cameron was my pairing last summer. I read so much of it. So glad to have you writing it too! <333
a.: CU; some hearts have starsregalish on August 11th, 2007 02:54 am (UTC)
HEEEEEE. Aren't they just so pretty?!?!

I never would've noticed them had I not watched "Spin" early on in my House-viewing. And yeah, they've got that broken-soul, just-need-somebody-to-love-them-for-them kind of vibe that (in my mind) makes them perfect for each other.

I'm so glad you liked this fic! I'm hoping to do more. LOL I just need some more W/C shippy material to go off of :D
(Anonymous) on October 27th, 2007 10:28 pm (UTC)
It was perfect
The story was very well done and constructed!! There isn't alot of cameron/wilson fanfics so I'm very happy that you induldge us camson fans!! I am also a hameron fan guilty as charged!! But thanks for writting it and I look forward to more!! By any chance do you write any Buffy The Vampire Slayer fan fics for the realationship of dawn/wesley?
(Deleted comment)
a.regalish on July 1st, 2011 03:15 am (UTC)
Thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed this. :D