Title: The Reason Of The Immoral
Characters/Pairings: Cameron/Thirteen (Cameron/Chase)
Word Count: 1000
Summary: One event starts to make Cameron question her morality, but, really, what does it mean to be moral?
Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with the show House M.D. or any of the characters and philosophers mentioned or implied in this ficlet.
Written for a challenge on LJ, for which my prompt was nefarious: wicked in the extreme.
I didn't mean for this fic to sound like an Ethics lesson. Honest.
Unbeta'd; any mistakes are mine.
Yes, it is only a one parter. No, there will not be a sequel.
Comments and constructive criticism are, as always, welcome! :-)
Morally speaking, her actions were unsuitable, unethical and – as a certain ex-boss of hers would have no doubt pointed out - completely and utterly stupid. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but somehow that mattered a lot less to her than it should do, and would have done several years previously. The strong, black, static line that used to separate what was moral from what was sin had long since been blurred and forgotten (and she had an inkling as to the identity of the culprit).
But, really, what defined morality in the first place? Immanuel Kant used to say that the only thing one could trust was reason itself, and if we listened to reason then we would do what was moral. But Kant was wrong; reason could tell us a lot of things, but sometimes there were no motives or purpose or rational thought and in those situations one had to rely on intuition and pure human instinct.
And instinct was a bitch.
Someone kissed her, so she kissed back. Instinct. And it was most likely an unfounded impulse that drove the action to which she responded instinctively anyway. Ninety percent of human behavior could be explained by the animalistic nature to mate – to have sex – and instinct was nothing more than following such simple impulses and desires. There was so much crime, wickedness and misery in the world, and the majority caused by this curse of human survival instinct.
It wasn't rational; there was no reason (rather, a thousand reasons not to). Yet still she had kissed the young, female, "replacement" doctor, and let herself forget about her fiancé and her job and her reputation…and kissed back. Irrational and irresponsible.
It was like a page from a trashy lesbian romance novel; two perplexed and beautiful doctors, lost to the world but finding comfort in each other's arms. If only it was that romantic. It was accidental; two doctors were fetching medical supplies, the younger needed to forget and the elder needed to take a chance. It just happened. And she enjoyed it – not the kiss, although, that wasn't bad either – but taking that risk, doing something that she knew was ethically wrong and would have undesirable consequences, and doing it anyway.
It was exhilarating; the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of being caught and the smug smirk of mischief that came with the fleeting and passionate kiss and the thrill of spontaneously doing something new and dangerous and...dishonest. Immoral.
The other doctor left without a word; her youthful features a blend of bittersweet confusion and sadness. Maybe the brunette felt guilty. Maybe she did too.
She went back to her day, her patients, her life, and tried to forget. Of course, some things are easier said than done. She was haunted by the ghost of butterflies and craved the thrill of danger like an addict in need of a fix; the memory of the other doctor's lips against hers unable to leave her thoughts. She had overstepped the boundaries. And liked it.
She should have felt remorseful or wrong or…something; something other than deliriously happy. And if enjoying the event itself wasn't enough to question her sanity, getting a kick out of lying to her fiancé certainly should have been. But she was having fun for the first time since medical school and if all it took was a little white lie, then she was okay with that.
He made love to her that night (like nearly every night before that), and she went along with it; smiling when he told her he loved her and making appropriate noises when he kissed her. She loved him. She did. But it wasn't fun anymore; kissing him didn't make her feel like a lovesick teenager, making love to him didn't fill her with excitement, the thought of coming home to him didn't make her smile. They were normal. Routine. Boring.
Like she said; Kant was wrong. Reason said she should be happy with him; intuition told her she needed more. And it was the face of the young, female doctor she saw when he finally made her come…and not the blonde, dedicated Australian man in front of her.
He held her afterwards, asked if she was okay. She didn't know what to say.
She saw the young doctor the following day; long auburn hair and a smile that made her crave for more. Just one more kiss. One more kiss to get the girl out of her system - to get this warped view on morality out of her system - and then she would tell her fiancé, and it would all be okay; she wouldn't need the excitement anymore, and she wouldn't be sinful any longer, and she would be…fine, not happy, but fine. Just one kiss and her life (and her sanity) would be back.
Just one kiss.
She found her, and told the mysterious doctor to meet her in the same place at the same time. One last bold and dangerous move before she found reason again. The brunette smiled and soon enough there they both were, the atmosphere strangely comfortable between them. The new doctor opened her mouth to explain, to apologise, but she cut her off with a kiss. She wasn't there to talk; she was there for one last moment of passion and independence before she got married to him and their routine and boring life. One last completely irrational and instinctive action.
The doctor kissed back with a fervor that made her heart beat three times its normal pace with the thrill of it; she responded in kind, soon finding herself pinned against the wall and moaning at the feel of the other woman's lips against her neck. Her hands tangled in the girl's hair as the gorgeous assault continued, her breaths coming in rasps as their strangely arousing make out session persisted.
"You probably shouldn't be doing this." The younger woman managed to say between kisses.
"I know." She said, and smiled.
Screw morality. Screw being boring. And for god's sake, screw Kant and his reason too.