Disclaimer: Do not own. Unfortunately. If I owned, I could make House do very naughty things to me…alas, I cannot.

Author's Note: First House fic. I know, House/Cameron is so over, but this was written awhile ago…no set time, just before she "quit". One-shot

Clink, clink, clink.

She felt his presence even before he opened his mouth. Rather, she heard the clinking sound his cane made on the concrete roof before his witty and sarcastic remarks even formed in his mind.

"I thought you left." He said bluntly, limping towards her.

She hardly reacted to his words. She had been staring out over the city, the view from the hospital's roof far more amazing than any hillside she'd ever been on. Seeing him would definitely ruin the moment for her. Without turning around, she said simply, "Well, you were wrong." She marveled at being able to say that, since it was a rarity for him to be wrong. Especially when it came to her.

"I'm hardly ever wrong." He replied, his words smug and full of his egotistic self. She gave her head a little shake, knowing his words never ceased to amaze her.

"Yeah, that's it. I forgot-you can read minds." She replied, her every word an explosion of sarcasm.

"Of course I can. Can't you?" He was teasing her, playing crazy games with her heart. She was used to the pain by now; the dull ache in the pit of her stomach had become a normal part of her life with him. But it still amazed her how each sharp tone twisted her insides, making them bleed and hurt.

"If you're such a mind reader, why don't you tell me what I'm thinking right now?" She folded her arms over her chest, her tolerance too low for his mocking and bullshit.

"You're thinking naughty thoughts about me. You should be ashamed of yourself." He playfully shook his finger at her, and she rolled her eyes, her feelings torn between strangling him and bursting into tears.

With all the dignity and lying ability she could muster from deep inside of herself, she said coolly "I don't have those sorts of feelings toward you anymore, House. It was a stupid, childish crush. I'm over that. Hell- I'm over you. So don't flatter yourself." She began to walk away, back towards the staircase, but he blocked her path with his cane.

"Really? You have no feelings toward me any more at all?" His mouth formed into a pout, but his words dared her to challenge him.

"Yes, really. I've moved on. I'm dating." And lying through my teeth.

"So…hypothetically speaking, what would you do if I slowly backed you up against the wall?" his voice became low and husky. "Would you try to escape? Would you hit me? Or would you meet me, step for step, until your back was firmly against the cold brick stone?" He slowly started to advance toward her, his cane making that same soft clinking noise it had made when he first came up.

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. "What if I pressed my body hard against yours? Would your heart race? Your head pound? What would happen if I slowly bit at your ear?" He bent down, his teeth lightly grazing her earlobe. His breath was hot against her ear as he whispered "If I whispered in your ear, would you shiver? Would your eyelids become heavy?" He let his lips travel lower, down her collarbone, stopping directly above the neckline of her blouse.

"Would you let me go lower? Down your breasts? Would it make your nipples ripen?" A soft gasp escaped her lips as he captured her breasts with his hands. The gasp turned into a soft moan as he began to kneed her breasts, his hands alternating as he worked.

He brought his lips back up to her face, and cupped her cheeks with his hands.

"What if I kissed you? Would you push me away? Or welcome me with open arms?" Before she could form a sentence, his mouth was on hers, his tongue slipping its way between her lips. She welcomed it, and he began to work wonders. A soft squeak came from her throat as his hands traveled down her back, and her hands were instantly in his hair, twirling the grayish brown around her smooth, delicate fingers.

She hated what he was doing to her. This was all a game to him-stringing her along. He had said he was complicated. "Chicks dig that." was the sentence she remembered hearing him say. He was playing with her-teasing her, mocking her feelings, and she was helpless against him.

Part of her wanted to push him away from her lips. Even go so far as to push him off of the hospital roof, but the other part of her wanted him to continue his cruel seduction. She loved him. Not because he was broken, not because he was complicated. She loved him because he was real. He would never see it that way, though. As a man who valued himself in the highest way possible, it was damn hard for him to see that maybe someone could love him for him and not out of sympathy.

Lightly, but firmly, she pushed him away, her hand touching the top of his chest. He looked at her, but she just stood there, eyes closed, letting the moment sink in. She didn't want him to speak. If he spoke, he would explain why he did what he just did, and it would ruin the moment they had shared together.

Of course, being the "mind reader" that he was, he had to open his mouth. "Cameron, I-"

"Shut up, House. I probably don't want to hear what you're going to say, so spare me the pain, please." She began to walk away, clear their "moment" had left. It was plain and simple that she was just a game to him, and he'd won for the night.

She had almost closed the roof door behind her when she heard his voice.

"Allison." He never used her first name. He called her "Cameron", "Girl", "Hey You", but never Allison. She turned around, and walked back through the door, afraid of what was about to happen.

"You called?" she answered sarcastically. Her tolerance for anything less than superman-like kindness was low, and she knew he was no Christopher Reeves.

"Your blouse is unbuttoned. If you go back down there they're going to think you were doing some really naughty things. And if I go back down there shortly after you, they're going to think those naughty things were with me. Do you want that?"

Cameron paused. Christ I hate him.

"House…stop talking."

She took a step closer to him, and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. His eyes closed, and his breath became jagged as she traced invisible patterns with the pad of her thumb on his rough, unshaven skin. She marveled at how easy it was to make him hers. Just one touch and she had him melting into her hand, breathing shallow and pleading for more.

"You want this just as much as I do." She whispered softly, realization setting in.

"Cameron…" House simply uttered her name, and she went weak at the knees.

Breathe, Allison. She thought to herself. Breathe and maybe you can figure this all out.

What would she do if they continued whatever it was they had? Would she risk her job and her reputation for a quickie with him? Would she eventually try and fix him like she did with her late husband? Or would things collapse and never be the same again?

What if?