Possession
By: Libby24
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the PPTH including but not limited to: Dr. Gregory House, Dr. Allison Cameron, Dr. Robert Chase, Dr. Eric Foreman, Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dr. James Wilson. (Wish I did though ;) Enjoy!! Please review no matter what you thought (good, bad, ugly, anything). Thanks! L.
Possession
Can one color possess another? Can one color overtake another so completely that the submissive color feels no control within the dominant color's presence? This is how Allison Cameron feels whenever she is near her boss Dr. Gregory House. Her brown eyes are powerless against his crystal blue ones, and the only thing she can do is try and save herself from drowning.
Whenever he is near her, he feels his steely resolve start to melt. Because of this, he works extra hard to make her hurt so she can't tell that he is only moments away from melting into a puddle at her feet. He loves her but he can't trust himself, not after… He hates to even think her name. Cameron is the only one who matters now and he tries his best to keep her away.
Wilson thinks he is ridiculous and unkind, what does he know? He thinks House "likes" Cameron; he doesn't know how close House is to losing it in front of her. The number of times he wanted to take her on his desk, in the elevator, in an exam room. It takes all of his willpower and self control to keep from attacking her because he knows once he lets her in; there will be no way to keep her out. It has been far too long since he let anyone in, he doesn't know if his damaged heart can take it again.
She sleeps with stuffed animals at night. He would die laughing if he know but her damaged heart needs someone, anyone there to comfort her. Her arms ache for someone to wrap around, to keep her safe, to love her. Until that someone comes she must be content with Butterscotch and Fred.
Her attention to detail is remarkable. She can tell when Chase has received a compliment, when Foreman was with a woman the night before, when Cuddy has missed her morning run, when House's leg is bothering him more than usual. Since working with House, she has been trained to notice minute details, slight changes; cover-ups. Everyone lies, the details do not.
He is proud of the way her eyes quickly scan a room the moment she enters. He has taught her that. She is the only duckling who actually cares about what he says and truly listens when he speaks. She takes what he says to heart. That is her downfall. His eyes are a beacon that always seek her out. If he could always watch her, she would never be able to surprise him. Dr. Gregory House hates surprises.
Dr. Allison Cameron loves surprises; even if it is something as insignificant as a thank you or a small note. There is always a silver lining somewhere in Cameron's book.
Her date brought her tulips. He knew it wouldn't last from the start. Her favorite flowers are daisies he thinks smugly. House already has more points on Aaron or Darren whatever his name is. He is a paramedic for the PPTH and has asked Cameron out twice before she said yes. House pushed her into the date by remarking on her lack of a social life and her increasing chances on becoming an old maid. He hates himself sometimes.
It is sick how often he watches her, how obsessed he is over her. She is a puzzle he can't quite figure out no matter how hard he tries. She's like a song on the radio that rubs you the wrong way until you've heard it a few times and can't help finding yourself singing along. He wonders if she knows that he watches her. Does she take perverse pleasure in knowing she isn't alone?
She knows he is there, she always knows. The skin on the back of her neck prickles and her face starts to flush lightly. She never makes it obvious when she looks for him and plays right into his little game. A tantalizing show with her fingers on her neck gently playing with her collarbone, extra licking and biting of her lips. She runs her fingers subconsciously through her chestnut hair.
Her hair smells like cinnamon he thinks as he watches her delicate digits slide through her thick hair. She reminds him of fall, his favorite season. When her shoes clack on the floors of the hospital he can almost imagine crisp leaves underneath them, crackling with every step. Her smiles are like the changing of the leaves, always beautiful but different each time. She is confident and sure of herself even when she's wrong and she reminds him of himself; it secretly thrills him. It is her eyes that catch him every time, those chocolate doe eyes that could stop a hunter dead in his tracks. Her eyes make him feel vulnerable and therefore weak. The last time anyone saw him at this most vulnerable she left. His heart hasn't been the same since.
He has major trust issues she thinks as she sits through her painstakingly boring date with Aaron or Jaron, she can't remember which. With House she knows it would have been cleaver, witty banter and calculating looks. True their first date had gone horribly but if he had just given her a chance… She doesn't even know what the idiot seated across from her is blathering about anymore. She is relatively sure it has something to do with a minor self-centered accomplishment he had. If she had wanted to sit through this kind of torture she would have gone out with Sebastian Charles!
He can tell she is irritated by the look on her face. Her fingers trace her jawbone when she is annoyed and she absently plays with the two symmetrical moles on the right side of her long neck.
"I'm sorry, I'm not feeling very well," she says lying through her teeth. Well, not a complete lie she thinks, she does have a pounding headache. "If you'll excuse me I think I'm going to call it a night. Thank you for dinner." With that, she pushes in her chair and is gone. Aaron/Jaron/Darren doesn't know what to think.
She is glad she chose to drive herself, this gives her the opportunity to glance into her rearview mirror, looking for a man on a motorcycle. The only time she's ever ridden it, she couldn't stop shaking from excitement for a solid hour. He knew what he was doing when he grabbed her arms and wrapped them around his waist telling her she could be modest and fall off or hold on tight. Boy did she grip hard!
He feels himself get hard as he thinks about the time he took her on his hog. He trails her at a steady pace, knowing her route by heart. He doesn't want her to see him just yet.
She knows he is behind her just out of sight. This game they have titillates her to her core. He is so possessive and calculating but brash and cold to her when she tries to open him up. She feels instant warmth when she steps into her apartment, music flowing through the rooms.
"I would sacrifice anything come what might for the sake of having you near, in spite of a warning voice that comes in the night and repeats, repeats in my ear. Don't you know little fool, you never can win! Use your mentality, wake up to reality, but each time that I do just the thought of you makes me stop before I being, 'cuz I've got you, under my skin."
Isn't that the truth she thinks. She changes quickly into a simple pajama set of a white cotton tee-shirt and black cotton shorts. She pulls her hair out of her face and attaches it up with a clip. She opens a journal of medicine and puts her feet up on her ancient coffee table.
He waits until he knows she is unaware of his presence and sneaks in. She is dressed simply and looks comfortable with her feet up and her noise in a medical journal. He creeps up behind her to read over her shoulder, Sarcoidosis, the TRUE Diagnosis. He smiles to himself before gently placing his warm fingers on her neck and starts rubbing.
She is never surprised by him anymore. She gently leans into the massage, loving the feeling of his calloused fingers on the soft skin of her neck.
"Mmm," she moans appreciatively. His dick goes straight to attention.
She can feel herself starting to get wet from the gentle rubbing. She smoothly slips her arm around his neck and brings his face down to hers. With a slight turn of her head, their lips are touching.
At first the kiss is slow and relatively chaste but soon he can't handle it their kissing becomes more frantic and hard.
His lips are crushing hers so hard she thinks they might be bruised tomorrow.
He pulls his head back to look at her. Her lips are swollen and a shade too red; he can hear her breaths coming out as pants. At some point he has unclipped her hair and the dark curls cascade down her shoulders.
They both know what this is and don't know how much longer they can keep the charade of their complicated game up for. If they don't watch it, they will be moving into dangerous waters very soon.