SUMMARY: Sometimes a lesson is learned.
CHARACTERS: Cameron, Foreman, Chase
RATING: R for language and themes (gen fic).
WARNINGS: Details the aftermath of events in Bad Company, a rough, violent story. Aftermath isn't always pretty; may distress some readers. Adult themes and adult language.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Never will.
NOTES: The pieces of this shattered story are numbered. The first number signifies the number of days that have elapsed since the original event in Bad Company; the second number signifies when the fic occurs during that day.
When Cameron buys a Thinking of You card for Wilson, Chase rolls his eyes but signs it. Foreman hands it back, shaking his head. “It’s not true,” he says. “I’m thinking of doing my job. Wilson’s House’s friend, not mine. The only reason I hope he comes back soon is so that House will go back to his old level of insanity.”
“Dr. Wilson’s a colleague,” Cameron retorts, shoving the pen and card toward Foreman again. “A colleague who, as you just pointed out, helps keep our boss from driving us completely insane. Sign the damn card and give me a twenty for your share of the present.”
Foreman’s right hand, which had been moving slowly in Cameron’s direction, jerks back. “Present? You expect me to shell out money for the man, too?”
Chase holds in a sigh. He can only imagine what Cameron typically gives to convalescing friends: flowers, balloons, cute knick-knacks, teddy bears. Little things of the kind Wilson has scattered across his office. Things, Chase speculates, Wilson has no interest in himself, but accepts to bring satisfaction to the giver.
“We’re giving him a gift certificate for downloadable audio books,” Cameron says, as if she’s followed Chase’s train of thoughts. “It’s boring to be stuck inside so long, when you’re tired and can’t do everything you used to. There’s only so much TV a person can watch.”
She looks down to the table, swallowing gently, and Chase suddenly remembers about her husband’s cancer. Foreman looks like he might have remembered too, as he takes the card from her hand and writes a few words in it.
Chase pulls his wallet from his pocket and stares Foreman down until he does the same.
“Thanks,” Cameron says, accepting the cash. “And with a gift certificate, Wilson can choose what he likes best. As you men have ever so politely and gently pointed out to me, his tastes and mine are not always the same.”
Foreman gets a wry look in his eye, and Chase can’t entirely hold back a grin. Sometimes Cameron takes things too much to heart… and sometimes she takes them exactly the right amount to heart.
“So,” Chase asks, “does this mean we can trade in this flowery card for something more masculine?”
“Absolutely not.” Cameron grabs the card from the table and tucks it inside a pale yellow envelope. “You’ve seen House’s apartment -- it's like a cave in there. They need some small bit of pleasant flowery cheer to lighten the place up, whether they realize it or not.”
In a swirl of white lab coat, she’s gone. Foreman rolls his eyes extravagantly and walks out after her, on his way to the Clinic. Chase just smiles and goes back to reading his journal.