Her eyes don't meet his right away. That's the noncommittal route-- he can ask, she might answer. It's the best promise he'll wring from her. Taking a small bite she finally looks up as well, expression guarded.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
Which he hates, and the line that works its way into his forehead accentuates the point.
"You're living somewhere the conditions turn apocalyptic around once every fortnight. There's someone else in the city who... doesn't much like you right now, probably fairly, but being aware of that doesn't get her out of your head. It's a rough day, giant birds or evil sheep or whatever. You know she'll be pissed if you just show up to walk her to work. Is calling fair?"
Well they both get enough metaphors thrown at them at work, he might as well make this one entirely clear. Leaning against the door frame for want of somewhere to sit, he tries hard not to close off his own expression in anticipation of a bad response.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
She'd point out that harpies aren't birds, but that just brings up the fact that harpies shouldn't exist, which is something she'll never quite stop hating about this place. Her lips make a thin line as she tries to figure out an appropriate answer.
"I'm sure plenty of people have noticed there's safety in numbers," she points out, skirting the subject.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
The way she puts it is something he can't quite pin down. A call doesn't equal safety unless it's followed up. Perhaps he was wrong on the one thing he thought was a certainty: that she wouldn't want to see him. He raises his eyebrows and tries a quiet trade of truths, though it's up to her to reciprocate.
"I used to get one of your staff nurses to call me when you got in every day."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
None of this would matter if she could just stop caring about him. In a way, Cameron thrives on that. It's safer for her if he thinks she hates him. She does; or she has, she comes and goes. If she could not care at all, though, she wouldn't have any reason to be angry. At least if he's with someone else, she's safe missing what they had on her own. It's not satisfaction; but it's what she's always allowed herself, and it has less potential for ruin.
She lifts her chin slightly. "I'm pretty sure that would be grounds for a restraining order," she quips. It's dry, but not vicious; it's not a roundabout way of asking him to leave. Just a joke to avoid saying anything serious. There was a time, at least, when that would have been obvious; what he'll hear now she can't even guess.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"Probably." He agrees, exaggeratedly startled expression confirmation that he knows it's a joke. He's going along with it. Even if there might be just a grain of truth in the suggestion - he prefers to think of it as being persistent. He's always had to be.
There's a sandwich based gesture of things he'd like to express but can't, and it probably scatters crumbs over her carpets. Hell, in for a cent, might as well throw in the full dollar. "I'm not very good at backing off from some things. Not completely. Not when they're important."
And, because she'd gone light and he'd switched things- "At least I haven't started paying the porters to hide in your bushes."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
It all cuts a little too close for her. It would be easier if it wasn't important for either of them. A hundred things spring to mind but nothing finds its way to her lips, so she's left looking at him uncertainly over a couple of sandwiches. There was a time when his persistence flattered her, when she gauged how long she could go before rewarding it in some small way; now, she can't afford to be hopeful.
It would be easier if she didn't know about anything. It'd be easier if she was better at giving up.
It would be easier if the City would send one of them home.
Finally, wearily, she looks away. "There are only so many second chances," she says quietly. Of course, he's never quite understood how many she's given him. Maybe it isn't fair. Nothing ever is, though.
She meets his eyes again, because as much as she'd like to be able to put an end to this that wasn't a dismissal.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
He may not understand how many, but he does know that he's been given more than a few, and that in each case he's broken the terms of his probation. She's an idealist. It's why her working for House is so insane, and also why, he suspects, she's never completely given up on him as keeping some kind of compassionate soul buried under the bitter genius. Chase isn't sure how far he agrees with that yet, but it leaves him feeling like his own case can't be beyond redemption.
"People are going to keep screwing up. As long as you're spending time with humans and not the robots in the operating theatres, the one thing I can promise you is that's going to happen to you a lot. But... the ones who keep trying. Who want to do better, if they can. Aren't they worth letting back in, even a little?"
It's been months, and it's taken monsters to bring him to the point of being able to ask this. To be sure he can't just step back completely and give her the peach she so often seems to want from him. It could just be another flaw in his nature.
"Even if it's just getting a drink together once a fortnight and talking about patients behind their backs."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
At least the robots in the operating theatre never worry about broken hearts. Cameron's free hand folds across her stomach as she regards him for a long moment. Isn't this the way it always goes? She runs, sooner or later he runs after her. She always gives him another chance.
Believing the things she does-- that people are fundamentally good, that they can change, that no one is irredeemable-- has gotten her through a lot. But if there's one thing the City's good for, it's wearing away at idealistic resolve.
"We've never wanted the same thing," she says finally, quietly. The prospect of being friendly is unsatisfying, even though if he offered right at this moment to come back to her, she'd turn him away. Wanting was so much easier when it was private; now she wears her disappointments like a crown. The weight shows, if not always the reasons.
"I honestly don't know." If she can. If she can help herself. Sooner or later, she knows, she always turns back.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"I've never... completely... known what you wanted." he tells her, speaking of his own shortcomings in failing to figure it out. The few moments where both their wants have met have been startling and intense but, from the first drug-tainted time, left him confused as hell in the few days after. He's too prone to assuming, rather than asking. Maybe she's not prone enough to spelling things out in the simplified phonetics necessary. Either way, he's sure there have been connections they've missed because one of them way looking the wrong way and the other didn't call out in time. Working over 'could have beens' isn't why he's here.
"Listen, why not one drink. Two weeks time. If it sucks you can cut your losses and all you've lost is one crummy night talking to a colleague. We've all had those. One, casual drink." He bites his lip, "And I get to call you on days you might get eaten-- unless you want to check on me, instead. I do have more meat on me."
Hopeful. There it is again.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
She doesn't answer that admission; she's rarely known herself what she wants. She's always hoped he'd have enough intuition to follow the flighty, subtle changes of her needs. It's a moot point, now. And he still doesn't understand, of course.
The thin line of her lips curves down a little, just the faintest touch of a frown as she considers his offer. Or request; that might be a more apt way of putting it.
"Ask me in two weeks," she answers at length. It's more than she really wants to give him.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"I will." And she can be assured of his timekeeping on that. For all that he'll shirk extra work where he can, Chase's level of precision is second to none. It just depends what he's categorised as worth paying attention to.
He relaxes, a little, taking a step inward to stretch his legs, and finishing off the triangle of sandwich he's started in two easy bites.
"Can I ask you another question?"
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
It's not quite impatience on her face; it's the same old game with no stakes to speak of, and somehow going through the motions makes her wince. Phantom heartaches. Her sandwich is more or less forgotten in her hand.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
It catches her off guard, and she stares blankly for a moment, giving it some honest thought. Considering that their cases are by definition extraordinary, it's difficult to cite any one as more memorable than the rest. Ezra Powell, she almost answers. Foreman. Cindy Kramer. House. People, not cases. It might be a better question for House; he cares about the puzzle rather than the patient. She makes up for it.
"I'm not sure," she answers, brows drawing together a little. "Why?"
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
Interestingly, the first name in her mind is the one he'd hoped she'd say, although he wouldn't count it as his own most memorable patient. He remembers being willing to go along with House, though.
"I've been thinking... and I'm not sure I'm at the end of the thought process yet. About whether we've got it wrong, trying to treat patients here the way we were expected to at home. Maybe we need to take different circumstances into account more than we do."
He folds the card back over his sandwich box and puts it down on the nearest free surface, essentially abandoned. Something that probably drove her crazy in the brief time he lived with her.
"So I was just wondering what had been important to you, there."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"Things are different here." She glances at the trash, but the light frown that carries isn't about that. It's just difficult to verbalize. "We don't have the same kind of cases. Too many factors." She laughs, short, suddenly. "No breaking in to apartments. Half the time we're just patching up after curses, anyway."
Shaking her head a little, she uncrosses her arms. "I liked the challenge. But it was more about-- saving people, who had no other options. That made a difference."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
Chase has broken into a couple of apartments for the benefit of medical science since they've been here, but she's right. The pressure of the job now comes from curses that turn apocalyptic, not individuals on the brink. Though there are patients like that, there's also magic in this world and other aspects that render their help secondary.
"Saving people is what I'm thinking about, in a way. Can I talk to you when I'm further along? I don't want to bring it to House until I'm sure I know what I mean."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"I certainly don't know what you mean," she murmurs. Guarded though she's been this is the least uncomfortable conversation they've had since... Well, the least uncomfortable this year. Not that that's saying much.
"Let me know," she adds slowly, "if you figure it out." It's not exactly inviting-- he's still deep in colleague territory, not a friend-- but he's at least succeeded in piquing her curiosity.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
He nods. Her reaction, when he does get to discussing it, probably won't either be completely or initially favourable. That's what makes her the best person to ask. They have such different standpoints that somewhere in the middle there might just be a balance.
"I'll send you a link to a patient file, soon. I just want you to tell me how you'd proceed with treating him based on what's available here."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
Her eyes don't meet his right away. That's the noncommittal route-- he can ask, she might answer. It's the best promise he'll wring from her. Taking a small bite she finally looks up as well, expression guarded.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"You're living somewhere the conditions turn apocalyptic around once every fortnight. There's someone else in the city who... doesn't much like you right now, probably fairly, but being aware of that doesn't get her out of your head. It's a rough day, giant birds or evil sheep or whatever. You know she'll be pissed if you just show up to walk her to work. Is calling fair?"
Well they both get enough metaphors thrown at them at work, he might as well make this one entirely clear. Leaning against the door frame for want of somewhere to sit, he tries hard not to close off his own expression in anticipation of a bad response.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"I'm sure plenty of people have noticed there's safety in numbers," she points out, skirting the subject.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"I used to get one of your staff nurses to call me when you got in every day."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
She lifts her chin slightly. "I'm pretty sure that would be grounds for a restraining order," she quips. It's dry, but not vicious; it's not a roundabout way of asking him to leave. Just a joke to avoid saying anything serious. There was a time, at least, when that would have been obvious; what he'll hear now she can't even guess.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
There's a sandwich based gesture of things he'd like to express but can't, and it probably scatters crumbs over her carpets. Hell, in for a cent, might as well throw in the full dollar. "I'm not very good at backing off from some things. Not completely. Not when they're important."
And, because she'd gone light and he'd switched things- "At least I haven't started paying the porters to hide in your bushes."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
It would be easier if she didn't know about anything. It'd be easier if she was better at giving up.
It would be easier if the City would send one of them home.
Finally, wearily, she looks away. "There are only so many second chances," she says quietly. Of course, he's never quite understood how many she's given him. Maybe it isn't fair. Nothing ever is, though.
She meets his eyes again, because as much as she'd like to be able to put an end to this that wasn't a dismissal.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"People are going to keep screwing up. As long as you're spending time with humans and not the robots in the operating theatres, the one thing I can promise you is that's going to happen to you a lot. But... the ones who keep trying. Who want to do better, if they can. Aren't they worth letting back in, even a little?"
It's been months, and it's taken monsters to bring him to the point of being able to ask this. To be sure he can't just step back completely and give her the peach she so often seems to want from him. It could just be another flaw in his nature.
"Even if it's just getting a drink together once a fortnight and talking about patients behind their backs."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
Believing the things she does-- that people are fundamentally good, that they can change, that no one is irredeemable-- has gotten her through a lot. But if there's one thing the City's good for, it's wearing away at idealistic resolve.
"We've never wanted the same thing," she says finally, quietly. The prospect of being friendly is unsatisfying, even though if he offered right at this moment to come back to her, she'd turn him away. Wanting was so much easier when it was private; now she wears her disappointments like a crown. The weight shows, if not always the reasons.
"I honestly don't know." If she can. If she can help herself. Sooner or later, she knows, she always turns back.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"Listen, why not one drink. Two weeks time. If it sucks you can cut your losses and all you've lost is one crummy night talking to a colleague. We've all had those. One, casual drink." He bites his lip, "And I get to call you on days you might get eaten-- unless you want to check on me, instead. I do have more meat on me."
Hopeful. There it is again.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
The thin line of her lips curves down a little, just the faintest touch of a frown as she considers his offer. Or request; that might be a more apt way of putting it.
"Ask me in two weeks," she answers at length. It's more than she really wants to give him.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
He relaxes, a little, taking a step inward to stretch his legs, and finishing off the triangle of sandwich he's started in two easy bites.
"Can I ask you another question?"
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
It's not quite impatience on her face; it's the same old game with no stakes to speak of, and somehow going through the motions makes her wince. Phantom heartaches. Her sandwich is more or less forgotten in her hand.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"I wanted to know your most memorable case we've worked on. Or... most important? Not here, back at home."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"I'm not sure," she answers, brows drawing together a little. "Why?"
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"I've been thinking... and I'm not sure I'm at the end of the thought process yet. About whether we've got it wrong, trying to treat patients here the way we were expected to at home. Maybe we need to take different circumstances into account more than we do."
He folds the card back over his sandwich box and puts it down on the nearest free surface, essentially abandoned. Something that probably drove her crazy in the brief time he lived with her.
"So I was just wondering what had been important to you, there."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
Shaking her head a little, she uncrosses her arms. "I liked the challenge. But it was more about-- saving people, who had no other options. That made a difference."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"Saving people is what I'm thinking about, in a way. Can I talk to you when I'm further along? I don't want to bring it to House until I'm sure I know what I mean."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"Let me know," she adds slowly, "if you figure it out." It's not exactly inviting-- he's still deep in colleague territory, not a friend-- but he's at least succeeded in piquing her curiosity.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
"I'll send you a link to a patient file, soon. I just want you to tell me how you'd proceed with treating him based on what's available here."
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
He pauses, bites his lip. If there was anything else to delay things here a while, he'd be trying it right now.
"Well, that's what I came to ask. Guess I can leave you alone, now. Unless there's anything..?"
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded