Thank you, Lori. I love you even though you love fuzzy socks way to much!

This was for the Backsexy House/Wilson/Cameron challenge and has been seriously edited to make it safe for FFN. For the original version check out my homepage.

"The same passions in man and woman nonetheless differ in tempo; hence man and woman do not cease misunderstanding one another."

Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

♥

"Did you think I wouldn't know?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice calling out to her, and walked over to the doorway between the conference room and his office. He was leaning against his desk, his weight supported by his uninjured leg.

"I thought everyone had left. It's late, House."

"You're avoiding the question."

She sighed; she was tired and as usual, in no mood for his games. "What didn't you know, House? What dastardly secret was I supposedly keeping from you?"

He looked at her with mock exasperation displayed to annoy, "I have to explain everything around here. Will I ever catch a break?"

She turned to leave, the game over for her. He had moved so swiftly, so quietly, she was surprised when she felt the weight of his hand on her arm, spinning her back to face him. Anger was etched clearly on his face and burning in his eyes. "I saw you. I watched, and for some reason I can't let it go."

She pulled her arm free from his grasp and walked away. She knew, just knew, that he would follow her and she didn't want to have this conversation until she had a moment to compose herself. When she started sleeping with Greg she knew she was embarking on something so profound that she was in danger of losing herself to him. He chipped away at every defense she held up and was terrified that he would see how vulnerable he made her feel.

"What do you think you saw, House?"

He drew closer, so close that she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck as he spoke. For the first time, she felt a strong sense of unease; discomfort at his clear violation of her personal space and willed herself not to move. "Do you want him?"

At this she turns to stare at him, blue eyes clashing with green. "He is an attractive man."

"He's married."

"Not for much longer." House rolled his eyes at her, and after she said it she realized how cliché it sounded. She gave him a crooked smile and turned to gather her coat. "I don't understand why you're angry; it was really nothing at all. Nothing. Just two people, perhaps, standing a little too close."

He looked at her, eyes never leaving her face. "Do you want him? I can arrange it."

Anger flashed through her, "Thanks, I think I can manage on my own if it ever came to that. What does it matter to you anyway? Are you his pimp now?"

He pushed closer to her and she resisted the urge again to step back. "It matters to me. Very much."

The air between them pulsed, and for the first time, Allison saw the jealousy layered beneath the casual barbs and off hand comments. He was allowing it to bleed into his eyes and it was startling how intense they were. It occurs to her that this is really about control. His control of the situation. She glanced down at the floor for a second before returning his gaze.

"What did you have in mind?" She knew she was going to regret asking him at the sight of his grin.

♥

They stood there in the doorway, Wilson with a hand wrapped around a bottle of wine, House tapping his cane impatiently against the floor of the hallway. She swallowed nervously as she waved them in. House lightly touched her hand with his as he brushed by her. It was so tiny a gesture, but it spoke volumes to her.

She turned and shut the door as House placed his cane on the floor beside the couch. Allison's pulse fluttered as she glanced from House to Wilson. Greg and James, she reminded herself. Greg and James.

Wilson brought the bottle of wine he had been carrying over to her coffee table, pulling the glasses out of his coat pocket. She suppressed a smile at the image of an overcrowded clown car as he extracted a third glass from the depths of his pocket. She took the bottle from him and opened it, pouring each of them a glass and handing them out. House lifted his glass in a toast. "To Allison, may the reality be as good as the fantasy." She frowned slightly at his tone, which was laced heavily with sarcasm.

She took a sip, then another, and watched as the men drank theirs down as well. Allison set her glass down and turned to sit near House. "I thought you were angry with me."

His face turned grim. "I was. I am."

"Than why are we doing this?"

He studied her, as if memorizing the sight of her, soft and beautiful in the dim lighting. "Why not?"

She swallowed; this conversation would only go in circles. She's been here before.

Wilson moved, catching her attention. She watched him pull of his coat and drape it on the back of her couch. He tugged at the tie around his neck, loosening the knot and sliding the material forward and off. He started to unbutton his shirt and with a questioning look at House, she rose and moved towards Wilson. James. She reached up and pushed the material off his shoulders; he was so close that the heat from his body warmed the few inches between them. James reached down and cupped her face with his hands, and then began kissing her.

"I thought this moment would never come," he whispered into her mouth. Softly, he kissed her, tenderly at first, then with greater intensity as she opened her mouth to him. . He moved her backwards towards the sofa where House was seated, watching them, something dark simmering in his eyes.

A hand stroked her back, another her leg. She murmured her pleasure into James's mouth. He ran a hand down her throat to her breast and shaped it, testing its plumpness, and gently squeezed. She lifted her chest to give him more of her. He muttered impatiently and tugged at her sweater, tossing it over her shoulders, her bra following the same path.

She felt moisture on her spine and realized it was House, tonguing from her nape down to the base of her hip. She could feel the texture of his unshaven jaw brush against her skin and it sent shivers coursing through her. House's licking gave way to tiny nibbles, barely felt amidst all the sensations in other parts of her body. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pleasure.

James pushed her shoulder, rolling her onto her back as House slid out from behind her. James bent to her mouth, pulling her tongue into his mouth, then thrusting his tongue into hers, fast and hard, a taste of what was to come. He tugged her skirt down and out of the way, continuing to kiss her hungrily. She opened to him, arching her hips against his body. She inhaled, caught up in passion and then he was there, shifting between her legs, searching out her slick opening and he sank in with a steady thrust that tore a groan out of him. Her body wrapped around him while he pushed deep inside her. Dimly, she wondered when he had taken off his pants, but lost her train of thought as he continued to thrust.

She wondered what happened to House. Greg. This all started as a challenge, a dare. He had been so angry, so jealous. She turned her head seeking out Greg and saw that he had moved to the opposite armchair. Still fully dressed, he was watching them, watching her. She should have felt mortification, perhaps shame; but she only felt free.

And it felt so good.

James pulled back until only the tip of his head was still inside her and they both groaned in disappointment. For a long agonizing second he hovered there, before driving into her with a reckless hard push that ripped a curse from his lips.

And it was all sensation and she was falling, falling, falling.

They pulsed and bucked and held on, and Allison fell back slack as James abandoned all control, pushing hard, harder, driving himself into her as he came.

And House, Greg, never once took his eyes off her.

She felt James kiss her neck as he pulled himself away. He touched her face softly with one hand and kissed her again. She closed her eyes to savor this moment and kept them closed as she heard him rustle around the room seeking his clothes. She wasn't sure if she was guarding herself from James leaving or from House's eyes. After she heard the swoosh of the front door closing she opened her eyes and was once again greeted by Greg's unwavering stare.

"Did you think I wouldn't know how you felt?" Greg sat back on the armchair as she pulled herself upright on the couch, grabbing the blanket she kept over the back of it, and wrapped herself in it.

"How do you think I feel?" she sighed, because they were right back where they had started. She stood up and moved towards the bedroom. Let him try and figure out whatever he needed to figure out. It's what he does best.

"Why do you think I set this night up? Why do you think he even agreed to come over here?" House followed her into the bedroom.

"I don't know, maybe because this is all a game and somehow you decided we would make the best pawns tonight?" She couldn't keep the frustration out of her voice. "Maybe instead of this elaborate charade you could have just asked me what I really wanted, needed. Maybe, you just try to understand me for once."

He reached out so quickly she didn't see it coming until it was too late. He dragged her up next to him and wrapped himself fully around her, burying his face into her neck. She turned to him, taking his mouth with unerring aim. His fingers squeezed hers as they took the kiss deeper. He sunk into her mouth, slowly, surely, and drew her into his the same way, until they were mating with their tongues in the one way they hadn't yet mated with their bodies.

She shifted next to him, drawing back and willing her head to clear. She reached for his hand and dragged him along side her towards the bed. "Come on, I'm too tired to play this game tonight. You can have another go at it tomorrow."

He simply followed her, silently agreeing that it would have to continue. This is what they were.