Warning: Vague spoilers for various Stephen Dorff movies.
Chapter 15: Death Scenes
"I can't wait until Christmas. Seriously, I know it isn't for a few more months, but I really want to be able to eat gingerbread houses, wrap gifts and don my gay apparel again!"
"Yeah, sure, just promise me you'll watch out for those gingerbread houses, you remember what happened to Gretel, don't you?" James Wilson stated matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, she got free food and became famous, woe is her." She said sarcastically, standing alongside the wall watching her aunt and uncle talk to an older couple across the room.
Alison Cameron's parents stood stiff as statues directly in front of her and her husband.
"And why haven't we met your fiancé before, Alison?" Cameron's mother spoke in a stern, yet warm voice.
"Well…I-it…it just never seemed like the right time…"
"Well, now seems like as good a time as any, Alison"
House looked up and straightened his back, "I'm here now, what do you want to know? How about my intentions with your daughter? I intended to marry and impregnate her the first chance I got, so far I'm two for two." A few minutes of silence followed.
Alison's father's look sharpened and eyes widened, only slightly, "Your pregnant? How? Why? How!" He stammered slowly, still very stunned from the revelation.
"Well, I'm no expert, only a doctor, but I think at some point in time there was sex. I don't know for sure, it's not like there's a record I can check, but I think maybe a condom broke, maybe a pill was forgotten or maybe, just maybe, a stork did it."
"You'd think since he was meeting his in-laws for the first time he'd at least try to be nice. Look, you see there, that's that little childish gleam in his eye he gets when he's excessively sarcastic." Angela shook her head lightly in disappointment; this was her role model. How could people expect her to be nice and civil when this was the example set for her?
"Maybe our expectations were just too high, we shouldn't have even hoped he'd be nice, it was a fools hope really." Wilson spoke wistfully and sighed.
"No, he's just pathetic is all. He can't manage fake sincerity for an hour, that's pitiful. I'm so pro, I've done it for days."
"When have you ever had to fake being sincere for days on end?" He raised an eyebrow signaling his disbelief.
"Girl scouts camp, everyone was so…perky."
Alison's mother shifted uncomfortably and then her father spoke, "Well, this has been nice, getting to know you, Gregory. The wedding was lovely, really, but I think we ought to be headed home soon."
"Yes dear, we'll call and we can talk, ok. See you soon sweetheart." Her mother gently squeezed Alison into a quick hug and followed after her husband quickly.
As soon as the in laws were out of sight, and presumably earshot, House turned to his new wife, "So?"
"So? SO? The first time you talk to my parents you drive them away, you humiliate me and yourself, you blurt out the news of my pregnancy like it's no big deal, you really just disappointed me…" Her voice trailed off, glumly.
"I disappointed you? Why? What did you want from me, perfection? You wanted the wedding to be perfect and you wanted my meeting your parents to go perfectly, why can't you ever just understand that there's no such thing as perfection?"
"Unlike you I'm capable of optimism, I know hoping for something to be perfect can't hurt." Alison Cameron's voice rose to just under a yell. "I actually try to be happy, I want things to be perfect and happy."
"No wonder you're ever so disappointed, you don't just want things to be perfect, you plan on them being perfect, you're expectations are too high and you get disappointed."
"If I had high expectations, why would I have married you?" She yelled at him, her eyes contradicted her and showed her sadness as well as anger. His eyes quickly lost their smugness. She stood still for what seemed like minutes and then left her home.
"Where is she?" Angie was sitting on the floor of her uncle's house resting her back on his couch, where he sat frowning.
"Who?" He mumbled.
"Waldo's girlfriend, she's pretty tricky. No, I'm kidding you, I was being sarcastic you see. I'm talking about you're wife, walked out of here about five hours ago, never to be seen since, I was kinda wondering if you knew where she was. By the way the little creases in your forehead will deepen like the Grand Canyon in you don't cut that out." She quickly averted her attention back to the screen if front of her and whispered to herself. "…Aww, crap"
"I don't know where she is, she'll call." He spoke slowly, almost as if he didn't completely believe himself.
"Why does this always have to happen? Move…Move…why are you standing there! …"
"What are you watching?" He asked his niece and finally unclenched his frown.
"Stephen Dorff movie, he dies, just wait…"
"I thought you hated when people talked during movies, or does it not count when you talk to yourself?"
"Ok, for one thing I am the only one watching the movie and I've already seen this one about seven times, never gets old… run, Stephen Dorff, run! …Oh…he got shot."
"I see that, did he not get shot the last seven times too?"
"Yeah…it's still sad, although not half as sad as your sad little situation, pouty. You oughta just stop pouting and call her, admit your pathetic defeat, and run off into the sunset somewhere for your honeymoon."
"I'm not calling her and I'm not pouting, I'm brooding."
"There is a very fine line between pouting and brooding, my dear. You know you need to call her, no one cares that you don't want to, we all know it's just because you hate to apologize."
House huffed out a loud sigh and reached over for the remote, but stopped when the phone rang abruptly.
Angie looked him in the eyes and frowned, "How much you wanna bet it's Grandma?" House's eyes were still and his hand retreated to his side.