Title: Not the Tinman
Author: Faith V
Rating: T
Summary: He fidgets with his cane handle and she almost smiles at the image. He’s so much like a little kid sometimes, expecting everything to be okay just because he said, “I’m sorry.”
AN: This was written for fraternizing, and it has this whole Wizard of OZ motif. I kinda went crazy with it, and probably messed it up quite a lot, you know, mainly cause I’ve only seen the movie once, when I was like 4, and I haven’t read the book.
Quote: "You have plenty of courage, I am sure," answered Oz. "All you need is confidence in yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage you have in plenty." L Frank Baum

Sometimes she gets tired, so tired, of always having to try so hard. These things should be easier.

There’s attraction, plenty of, and there’s chemistry and lustful stares and that feeling of emptiness in her stomach whenever he gets near. She knows he likes her, knows it for a fact. She knows he likes being around her. And the sex is amazing. Beyond amazing. Hot, the “melts your insides” kind.

So why does she feel like she has to work for Every. Little. Thing?

She might love him. She’s in love now, though she can’t understand why. To Allison, loving someone and being in love have always been different. She loved her husband, but by the time he died, she wasn’t in love with him anymore.

She’s in love with House. She doesn’t think it’d be healthy for her to love him. A one sided relationships won’t make either of them happy, and that’s kind of what she’s working for. Because, no matter what he says, she believes he is capable of happiness. He’s like her, in a way. Happiness is something he has to work for. Except Allison’s the one doing all the heavy lifting.

He gets away with a lot because of his leg: when she drags him to the grocery store “You can’t live on takeout House.” “Why not?” she carries in the big brown paper bags; when they have sex, she’s on top; when he’s tired and doesn’t want to tell her she can see it in his face anyway she draws him a hot bath. It’s all right, she doesn’t mind. She likes having someone to care for.

But this thing they have going on... It’s going to take some effort on his part.

---

Allison never liked her name all that much. It always seemed too girly for her taste. Funny how she misses hearing it, now. No one calls her that anymore. She’s Doctor Cameron, just Cameron, sometimes Cam.

“Cameron?” House asks, and she looks up at the white board.

“Lupus?” she asks, and then stands up and leaves the room. She takes a quick trip to the bathroom, splashes some water into her face and sighs dramatically. She’s exhausted.

When she comes back House hands her a chart and sends her off to do some blood work, all without really looking at her.

---

She shows up at his place at 11 that night, wearing sweat pants and an old college t-shirt. Her hair is braided, and she is holding her cell phone and key chain on her left hand.

“You look young,” he tells her, cocking his head to the side.

“I am young,” she replies. She crosses her arms in front of her chest and stares at him. He’s surprised, that much she can tell. There is a 15 years, 4 months, and 17 days age difference between them. She knows this because House told her. She’s never cared about it, and doesn’t care about it now, but she’s tired of reassuring him all the time.

He moves away from the door, his hand still clutching the doorknob. She sits on the smallest couch in the living room and curls her legs under her. He sprawls on the largest one, looking in her direction, waiting.

“You have trust issues,” she tells him, calmly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” House asks, and his voice is slightly teasing, as if he thinks this is all a joke. But it’s not, she’s dead-serious.

“You do, and that’s okay. I don’t care.” She sighs, and runs her hands through her hair. “I like you. It’s kinda that simple. Do you like me?”

She knows the answer, but needs to hear it, just once. Or maybe this is the one time when a couple of words will make all the difference in the world.

“Cameron...”

“I asked you a question. Just this once, I want a clear answer. Do you like me?”

“You know the answer.”

She sighs again, softly this time, and when she speaks again her voice is shaky.

“That’s not enough anymore.”

It takes a lot of effort to stand up, and even more so to walk to the door. Later on, she’ll wonder how she managed to not only open the door but cross the threshold without looking back.

---

He doesn’t call her. She doesn’t expect him to.

Things at work go on as usual. He’s still the same House he’s ever been, if slightly more moody.

No one ever knew they were together, and it’s only fitting that no one finds out when they’re not anymore. Allison’s almost sure Wilson has been sending odd looks her way though, and she wonders if House has told him. But then she chuckles bitterly; she’s probably not enough of a big deal for him to mention her.

She hates this. She hates being this silly little girl who doubts herself over everything, who craves for approval and is willing to do everything she swore she’d never do just because she’s in love with a world-hating bastard who doesn’t care enough to call her by her first name.

---

After their last patient is discharged, she takes a personal day.

She curls on her sofa, in boxer shorts and a large sweatshirt that once belonged to her big brother, watching a movie and drinking cranberry juice. It’s not exactly relaxing, but for a while she can think about something other than her screwed up life. Allison always felt badly for the Wicked Witch of the West and the latest musical hasn’t helped any, but the flying monkeys always makes her smile.

There’s a knock at the door and she stands up. She grabs her purse on the way and fumbles for her wallet. When she opens the door, ready to pay for the pizza she ordered, she finds him instead, holding a pizza box.

“You should call the pizza place. Their delivery guy is way too trusting.”

He walks past her and settles the box on the coffee table.

“Figures you’d be a Dorothy fan,” he says.

“What are you doing here,” she asks, tiredly. This was shaping up to be quite an uneventful day, and she liked it that way.

“Isn’t it enough to humiliate me at the hospital? You have to come to my home and mock my taste in movies too?” Allison tries not to think about how easy it is to fall back into old patterns. He’s an ass and she trades barbs with him. It just doesn’t cut it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her instead of replying.

She frowns.

“Sorry for what?”

“For whatever I did that got you all angry. I’m sorry, ok? There, I said it. Can we get back to normal now?”

He fidgets with his cane handle and she almost smiles at the image. He’s so much like a little kid sometimes, expecting everything to be okay just because he said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s what you didn’t do,” she tells him. She crosses her arms and sits again. A musical number is on the screen now. Dorothy, the Tinman, the Lion and the Scarecrow have linked arms and are skipping off down the yellow brick road.

“Cameron,” he groans.

“I like you, Greg. I’m in love with you. Do you think it’s easy? Do you?”

He just looks at her.

“It’s not. Admitting to it isn’t easy either, but it’s true. I know this is asking for a lot, but please… tell me. I need to hear it. Once is all I ask.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is, actually.”

Allison stands up and goes to him. She looks into his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispers. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”

His lips part and for a second there, she thinks he’s going to tell her, but then he closes them again and his baby blue eyes focus on the ground next to her.

“You’re not the Tinman, you’re the Lion,” she says. “Don’t be afraid.”

He looks at her then, really looks at her, the way he never has before, and it burns a little.

“Do you like me?” Allison asks, trembling.

“I like you.”

He pulls her towards him and holds her, tight.

Greg says her name and it sounds strange on his lips.

---

the end