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It was a long day. Well, it was a long day that turned into a long night, and day again. And it was made even longer when Charmeuse decided to pivot her destination to Vegas. After two delays and a glorious stay in the most un-luxurious hotel in Albuquerque, she found herself at the Lucky 38 once again. One or two drinks at the bar later; she made her way up to the penthouse.
Oddly she found the entire floor empty; his console was still on, but unmanned. The screens flashed, pictures of guests and employees displayed in a sickly green tint. Victor was quick to greet her.
“Howdy, Miss Charmeuse!” His display glitched for half a sec. “Head honcho is already in your suite! He went to bed early tonight and said he had other business to attend to.”
“That's…not good.” Charmeuse couldn't hold her concern in, House’s business usually doesn't involve hanging out in a suite alone. “Is that all he said? What happened?”
Victor stalled, a smiling display staring back at her in silence. Something deep inside him was letting out a slight ‘uuuuurrr’ sound.
“Dunno, darlin, he was working just fine, like usual, was in the middle of fixing some bug, then he went to your room around noon.”
“Since noon, its evein’ now! That's an awfully long time; I reckon something must have come up. I’ll see if I can help him.” She bit her lip; what on earth could have happened?
“Good luck, Miss Charmeuse!” Victor raised a heavy arm.
Her suite wasn’t very special, House tried offering her a more spacious room, but she wouldn't have it. Too on the nose, she said. Charmeuse already had frequent visitors sizing her up, not buying her usual ‘fuller brush Saleswoman’ lie.
When Charmeuse reached her suite, she put an ear to the door, an old habit. But there was no sound, she tapped the keycard and walked in, not sure what to expect. The main living room sat a muttering man, dark eyes staring at a heavily annotated book. When she got closer, she realized it wasn't just any book, but a book on learning Spanish.
House didn't even notice she had tip-toed in.
“Robbie,” Charmeuse bent over, head resting on his shoulder, “Victor told me you abandoned your post in that stuffy room upstairs. And now I find you leisurely reading? Is there something wrong? Are you sick?”
He sighed, shoulders falling, head tilted up at the ceiling.
“In all my years of living, I never made the effort to learn, really learn, another language.” He picked at the yellowed, dogged eared page. It had to be used, he never dogged eared his pages.
Forever and a day could have passed and she would have never guessed this would upset him, yet there he was.
“Ah, well, I know you’ll conquer it just like any other faucet of your life.” The spy teased, focusing on unpacking her suitcase for the week.
House grunted, heading to the kitchenette. "It's harder than you think, but you wouldn't understand.”
Charmeuse’s lips pursed for a moment.
“I don't know how you ended up at that conclusion, my French is terrible. You heard me in Moose Jaw, I sounded like I was possessed. I’m lucky most of my job requires me to be silent.”
She could hear water running.
“It's not the language part, I suppose; it's the accent.” He uttered over the sound of glass clinking together. “I wasn't raised with other Spanish-speaking people. You obviously slip into your accent easily; I heard you do with Victor and Jane.”
He was whining.
“Plus, when you go back home… It's like you're a different woman.” House marched back in the living room, two glasses of red wine in hand.
He lazily pointed at her chest, where her necklace sat.
“You never speak that way with me.” House gave her a front row view of his signature pout. It was very clear that it wasn't his first drink.
Charmeuse blinked; she never thought about it. Unconsciously, hiding her southern accent around him, well of course she did. Charmeuse didn't want him to think less of her, but Victor and she had many conversations with House around. And Jane, oh Jane, hers was more western-y, definitely a Texas born girl. She loved talking to her; Jane made her feel funny, but that's another crisis for another day.
Charmeuse froze at that instant, face of worry and concern melting into a smirk, while House took tiny slips out of his glass. He made a point to not make eye contact with his lover as she took the glass in the other hand.
“Looks like the city slicker has a thing for country folk!” She yelled, as House groaned.
“It's okay, honey, your secret is safe with me!”