28Amy House had a routine. She had had this routine since before she could even remember, and guessed she had picked it up from her mother. Over the years she had adapted it, to suit her life in Boston, and now to suit her life with her father. The routine was quite simple. She woke every day at 5.30, regardless of whether it was a Monday, Thursday or Sunday. She would get dressed in her running gear, go downstairs and quickly tidy up anything from the night before, set the table for breakfast, and then she would leave the house for an hour-long run. Every day, like clockwork. At first her dad had thought it was weird and slightly obsessive compulsive; the way she wanted to eat breakfast together every day, and her love of running, but he had accepted it and grown to enjoy seeing the table set every morning between 7 and 8 am, usually with his daughter sat cross legged on the kitchen counter; properly dressed now, and reading that morning's paper.
That day however, a Wednesday, was different. She dressed as usual, crept quietly along the upstairs landing, past her father's bedroom door, down the stairs and into tehe living room. She knew that something was different, but couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. She scouted around the room, collecting empty beer bottles and chinese containers; the remnants of last night's meal congealing in a strange gooey mess. The CD player was still on, and she frowned as she switched it off. Her dad loved his stereo system almost as much as his prized piano...so why would he let it run all night? She padded her way through into the kitchen, stopping dead in the hall. Something clicked inside her head, almost like the cartoon lightbulb. Everything making sudden sense. She looked at the coat rack and saw a woman's jacket sandwiched between her own winter coat, and her dad's leather one. It was a jacket she recognised, and she smiled, turning around and walking through to the kitchen. She began to set the table, in her usual way, but instead of just two places, like she normally set, she set an extra place.
Finding a piece of note-paper and a pen from the affectionately nicknamed 'crap drawer' she scribbled a name, and dropped it by the extra place setting. Then she left for her run, the cold November air hitting her in the face and making her eyes water. Moments later, two sets of footsteps crept down the stairs.
"I'll see you later" said a woman, slipping on her jacket.
"Right. Later." replied House, opening the front door, letting the woman leave, and then closing it behind her. He sighed, rubbing his temples slightly, before going into the kitchen. He smiled, as he always did, at the already-set table, then sighed again when he saw the third place setting, with the note lying on the plate. Reading the note, and not knowing whether to feel happy or sad, he began to clear away the dishes. He dropped the scrap of paper into the waste-bin, and it landed face up; the name "Cameron" clearly visible.
Amy returned from her run at 7:23, and found her father standing at the stove, frying bacon. She knew that Cameron had left already, the jacket was conspicuously absent from the coat rack and when she glanced at the table she could see that there were now just the usual two place settings. Shaking her head slightly, but not wanting to make anything of it she set the morning newspaper down on the counter beside her dad, and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
"Morning," she said, "I'm gonna grab a shower and I'll be right down." Her father nodded in response and she headed out of the kitchen.
They didn't have a patient. They hadn't had one all week. Apparently, no-one was suffering from an obscure but life-threatening disease, which meant of course that House's team was suffering; from a case of acute boredom. They had finished charting, they had finished all their dictations and every single compulsory clinic hour had been duly attended. But even those patients were boring- runny noses, ear infections and pulled muscles galore. So Amy had invented a game. Chase and Foreman had been skeptical at first, but now, with the score 61 to Chase, 59 to Foreman and 65 to Cameron things were getting a bit more interesting. Foreman had suggested putting money on it; "the first to get to a hundred wins a hundred from the other two competitors" but Amy had stubbornly refused.
"What did my dad say? Besides…you're losing. Do you really want to make it worse by having to pay out a hundred dollars? Again?" Foreman had rapidly rethought the idea, and was now just trying to beat Chase.
"Okay…" Amy said, flicking through the pages of the medical textbook which was resting in her lap. "Ludwig's Angina is a type of what disease?"
"Cellulitis!" Foreman answered.
"Correct." Amy answered, marking up the point on the whiteboard.
"Oh come on. That was so much easier than the last question." Chase complained.
"Game over kids." House drawled, entering the conference room. He contemplated the scores on the whiteboard; "I declare Cameron the winner," before wiping them off. "We have a case."
After sending Chase to get a patient history, and Foreman to the clinic to complete the extra clinic hours he himself had been awarded for smart-talking Cuddy, House found himself left with Cameron and Amy. Cameron busied herself with making coffee, while Amy grinned and poked her tongue out at him. Over the past week she had teased him mercilessly about the night Cameron had 'slept over', something which he had yet to actually discuss with Cameron. He had tried refusing to talk to Amy about it, but she had inherited his stubbornness along with his brains and could be surprisingly manipulative when she wanted to be. Amy knew exactly what he was going to ask Cameron, and was thrilled about it – but that didn't mean she was going to make it easy for him.
"How about you go help Chase?" He suggested, to which Amy remarked,
"I'm not allowed." House made a frustrated gesture, and Amy tried not to laugh.
"You are now. The kid'll like you." He said, motioning for her to leave the office. Amy sighed, but walked to the door saying -
"He's a thirteen year old boy. He likes anything with breasts."
"Well then we mustn't disappoint him by just sending Chase, must we?" House mimicked Amy's English accent. He heard her laughing in the corridor. He also heard faint giggles coming from Cameron, though she still had her back to him. He didn't know how to start this conversation, he'd been trying for a week but it was difficult to know what to say. Cameron turned and handed him his coffee, their fingers touching slightly as he took it.
"About the other night." They said in unison, the cringe-worthy 'you first, no you first,' exchange following. House took a deep breath.
"The other night,"
"Yes?" Cameron practically whispered, not daring to look at him.
"Again?" he asked, and her head snapped up in shock. He was smiling at her. In the time that Amy had been living with him she had come to realise that of all the smiles he had; sarcastic smiles, sadistic smiles and secret smiles, he had one smile that showed he was really happy – most often it was when Amy was around. She returned the look, answering -
"Yes."
"Good. That's that then."
That night, Allison Cameron cancelled the lease on her apartment, packed up her things and moved in with Greg and Amy House. The day after, Greg took a black Sharpie marker and added her name to the mailbox outside. No-one else knew; Amy was sworn to secrecy on pain of having House send an email attachment of her baby photos to every single employee at the hospital. But she wasn't planning on it, she was perfectly happy to live in the little bubble that was her new family.
And I think that's THE END. Boo hoo. It is possible that there's going to be a sequel…or maybe just a continuation…let me know what you think!