Rating: T (for now)
Disclaimer: House isn't mine. If it were, there would be much more gay love. Also, this fic was inspired by Regina Spektor's song "Somedays," from which the title and first line of this story have been shamelessly stolen. Also not mine.
Summary: "Some days," reflected Dr. Allison Cameron, "just aren't yours at all." What starts as a bad day could end up changing two lives for the better… If they don't screw it up. 13/Cameron.
A/N: This story contains femslash. That means two girls are probably gonna get it on at some point. If this offends you, go away.
"Some days," reflected Dr. Allison Cameron, "just aren't yours at all." She pulled a face at her reflection in the washroom's mirror before sighing down at her ruined shirtfront. The previously loose material of her blouse now clung uncomfortably to her skin, the once white fabric now soaked with coffee. Allison's hair, too, clung to her; the hospital's air conditioning unit had broken down that morning and the sticky waves of July heat were already, at eight in the morning, too much to bear. The pretty doctor now splashing cool water in her face couldn't see how she would survive the day, especially since this blouse was her spare, and she didn't have another. She had been at the hospital all night dealing with accident victims in the ER, she hadn't had any coffee to jostle her into wakefulness, and my God was it hot. "First the coffee," she moaned to herself, "now this."
"Dr. Cameron?" Another voice floated from one of the stalls, lower and calmer than Allison's.
"Uh, Thirteen?" Allison was surprised; she hadn't realized that the washroom had another occupant.
"Yeah, did you say something before?" Allison blushed and was thankful that the other woman couldn't see it.
"I was just… mumbling to myself," she said, embarrassed, "I didn't know you were in here." Thirteen exited her stall then, a big smile on her angular face. Allison took in the way the sun slanted on the pale skin of Thirteen's face, the way her eyes sparkled and she seemed to glow within the sun's caress. Only on Thirteen would the flushed cheeks symptomatic of prolonged exposure to sweltering, heavy air look beautiful instead of uncomfortable. Cameron gave herself a mental shake and cursed the heat for making her think so strangely, making her feel this… whatever this was for the younger doctor.
"It's the heat." Thirteen summed it up in that succinct way she had about her, taking the situation in stride, defining it, and moving on. She began washing her hands in the sink. "Don't you have a spare?"
It took Allison's mind, which felt like putty in the heat, a moment to catch up. "Oh. No. Well, yes. This is it, actually; I was in the ER all night and some intern tripped onto me just after I changed, and well… Well, you can obviously see the result." Cameron gave a bit of self-deprecating smile and tried her best not to blush. She sounded like an idiot! Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut for one second?
Thirteen was speaking again, and Allison had to shut off her internal lashing in order to catch up. "… borrow it, if you like. We're about the same size." She dried her hands and pushed her long hair away from her face.
"If I could, that would be great. I don't want to be a bother."
Thirteen smiled again, a quick little quirk of her lips that almost wasn't there at all, but Allison caught it. Caught it, and hugged it to her chest, feeling its warmth spread to her bones and causing her own lips to pull back in a smile. "It's no problem," said Thirteen; she motioned with her hand, and Cameron followed.
Thirteen's locker was a mess, and Allison's hands itched with wanting to tidy it. She focused on a picture taped to the inside of the door instead; it featured a beautiful woman with dark, wavy hair, long, freckled arms and legs and a contagious smile. Cameron asked who it was, but she knew the answer even before Thirteen replied, "My mother." A moment passed where Thirteen looked fondly at the picture before she reapplied herself to the task of finding her spare shirt. Allison wasn't so worried about the cleanliness of the apparel, since the mess in the younger woman's locker was more of a happy clutter than a pigsty, but she somehow expected it when the shirt Thirteen resurfaced with was a bit squished and had obviously never made the acquaintance of an iron.
Thirteen tossed her the balled-up shirt before standing back, her arms crossed and an assessing look on her calm features. Allison held the shirt protectively to her, feeling as if she were being stripped naked by Thirteen's gaze; eyes that were once half-lidded and calm now appraised her with an intensity that was nearly painful. Suddenly Thirteen's demeanour changed yet again, and she was all smiles and loose limbs, Cameron struggling to catch up.
"Go change," said Thirteen, a smile softening her angular features, "and meet me back here. We'll get breakfast."
Cameron just nodded, and she was in a bathroom stall with her shirt half off before she realized that she hadn't even argued, had just done as Thirteen said. She shook her head in bemusement; normally she questioned and poked and prodded and took things apart until the other person screamed in frustration and ran away. She analysed, it was in her nature, and she couldn't see how a spontaneous suggestion she would have rejected coming from someone else had seemed so logical, so natural from Thirteen, a woman she knew hardly at all. Why, she even turned down Chase, Robert Chase, her fiancé, when he tried to change her rigid schedule! Allison shook her head once more, slipped Thirteen's rumpled shirt over her head, and chalked it up to the heat.
At breakfast Thirteen was sly, slipping food from Allison's plate and exchanging it with her own. She teased and joked, making Cameron laugh with her impressions of House and his teams, both past and present. Her impression of Chase, especially, made Cameron give up a burst of guilty laughter. When she had her control back at last (when had she lost it?), she sighed the sigh unique to finishing a good laugh, and glanced up at the woman across from her. She found Thirteen's eyes sparkling with fond amusement, a smile playing around her thin lips. Their eyes met for only a moment before Thirteen focused on her plate, dragging her fork through the remainder of her meal, pressing it down so that the eggs were squished up through the tines. Unsure of why the air around them had changed, was now heavy not just with moisture but with secrets, Cameron tried to lighten the mood. "Don't play with your food, Miss," she teased, an uncertain smile on her lips. The smile faded as Thirteen looked up, her features somber.
"My mom was a dancer. I took that photo of her when I was ten. She died when I was sixteen." The words seemed curt, and were it anyone else speaking Cameron would have thought that was the end of the matter; subject closed, and she wasn't welcome to pry further. But reading Thirteen seemed instinctive, and Allison could tell by the way the other woman's eyes were slightly squinted in anticipation, her lips tightened just so, that Thirteen wanted, no, needed her to ask.
"You loved her very much." It was gentle, but it was a statement, not a question. Thirteen didn't deny it, but looked gratefully into Allison's caring eyes. Internally, Cameron preened. This was what she was good at. She cared; she cared until she felt full to bursting with raw emotion. Thirteen held her gaze.
"She was my mentor, my best friend. She was the glue that held us all together, and without her everything just fell apart. She was… I miss her. I miss her every day." Each word filled Cameron with a deep sorrow; she placed a gentle hand on Thirteen's slim one and exhaled, sharply, a breath she hadn't even known she was holding as her eyes widened in shock; as she touched Thirteen's smooth, freckled skin she felt the loneliness, the ache that had seeped into her skin from the other woman's, release its heavy hold without warning. The gloomy cloud that had surrounded them dissipated, and a cool breeze seemed to float by and lift a little curl from Thirteen's forehead. Allison met the younger doctor's eyes, a shocked and delighted smile beginning to form on her lips, but when she got there she found that Thirteen's gaze had closed off and she was leaning back and glancing away, preparing to leave, making some excuse about having to be in House's office while looking anywhere but into Allison's concerned eyes.
"See you later," she said quickly, and with the briefest moment of hesitation walked away from the table and out of the cafeteria. Cameron remained seated, the smile fading from her face, the heat moving quickly to occupy the space the cool breeze and Thirteen had left behind them.