This is just a little one-shot that was actually written for a ficathon and was originally rated NC-17. I have modified it some to fit in here, and hopefully you will all enjoy it. The end DOES contain some semi-explicit material however, which definitely skates the line between T and M ratings although it's really no worse than your average romance novel.


Let Them Talk

It was black tie, which he avoided. It was a benefit, which he detested. It was required, which he resented.

Unfortunately, all his wheedling and bargaining with Cuddy had amounted to nothing. He'd even offered to work more clinic hours, but apparently adding time to a sentence which couldn't possibly be served in his lifetime lacked weight. The one show of defiance left to him was to arrive a solid twenty minutes late, and head straight to the bar. He saw the rest of his team seated at a table and eating the typical steak and chicken Florentine that were offered at every hospital function. He usually went with the steak, but this time he just drank down a scotch on the rocks as he watched them.

Cameron's eyes flickered often in his direction and he tried to look away each time they did. For once, he was the one feeling like a specimen under the microscope. Damn bowtie. Damn tux.

Over at the diagnostics department table, Cameron's frequent glances in House's direction did not go unnoticed by her co-workers. Foreman probably would have let it go, but Chase was never one to let tact stand in his way. He nudged her elbow the next time her gaze wandered.

"God, Cameron. Close your mouth before you drool on the table."

She shot him an irritated look, brows pulled together, mouth pursed. "I was just wondering if he was going to make it over here before they stop serving."

"Yeah, right."

"C'mon man, shut up," Foreman spoke up as he saw a faint blush creeping up Cameron's neck.

"What? It's not my fault she still has a thing for him," Chase argued.

"I don't have a thing for him," Cameron retorted.

"Oh, I beg to differ, Dr. Cameron."

Chase, Cameron and Foreman all turned in their seats and saw House standing directly behind them. Apparently he'd decided to eat dinner after all.

"In fact, I'd say it's a good thing the dress-code at the hospital doesn't include formal wear. You'd be even more distracted around me than usual." His tone was arrogant, with a side of sarcasm. "Of course, you're not too shabby yourself, but I've been around the block a few times, so it's harder to really wow me." His eyes went wide at the end before narrowing again and pinning Cameron in place.

But not for long.

"Right. Because emotions always get in the way of my professionalism, right?" she snapped.

"Well, not always. I've seen you work with Cuddy just fine, but I guess you don't have any Sapphic tendencies. A shame, really, because I might actually agree to a threesome."

Cameron rolled her eyes and tossed her napkin onto the table. "Enjoy dinner. I need a drink," she told him, and stalked off in the direction he'd just come from.

She passed Wilson, who had been making his way to their table, and he stopped and looked at her, at House, and then back at her again. He shook his head slightly and turned to follow her to the bar.

"Vodka tonic," Cameron ordered and then tapped her carefully manicured fingers against the wooden bar.

She couldn't believe she'd worried about her dress and makeup. Hell, she'd spent almost three hundred dollars on her dress, a black A-line with thin silver straps and silver beading along the neckline and hem. She'd gone to have her nails and hair done. She'd been determined to have a good time. She'd even dared to hope that House might arrange to ask her to dance in the most sarcastic way possible. So much for those plans.

So much for the fact that they'd been dating for over two months.

The bartender brought her drink and she took a long swallow.

"He's an ass," came the familiar voice from over her right shoulder.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Well, you've seen him naked, so technically you know more than me now."

A small smile tilted up one side of her mouth and she gave a little chuckle.

Wilson was the only other person who knew about the relationship between House and Cameron. It would have been tough for him to miss, considering that he had slept on House's sofa a few times since it began, but in fact House had told him about it almost as soon as it started. Wilson had been shocked at the time, more that House was telling him than that the two of them had started seeing each other. House's expression had also been a surprise. It had been cautious rather than boasting, which had made him think that they actually had a chance.

"Sometimes," Cameron said lowly, and Wilson had to lean forward and strain to hear. "Sometimes I think the only reason we're together is because I'm a lot cheaper than a hooker."

Treating cancer patients had made Wilson exceptionally good at both reading and reacting to people. At the moment he knew that Cameron was working things through in her mind and that anything he said to her would be an unnecessary distraction. Instead, he ordered a drink and sat down next to her

He was right. She was having a mental conversation with herself and his voice wasn't needed, although his silent support was very welcome. She took another sip of her drink and turned slightly, watching the doctors and benefactors out on the dance floor.

It was her fault really. She was the one who had allowed herself to settle for their clandestine relationship, made up of take-out Chinese food and bad television followed by sweaty sex and taking separate cars to work in the morning. She had to remind herself that there were also late night conversations and comfortable silences, gentle touches and coffee left by her side of the bed when he got up before her. Those infrequent bursts of thoughtfulness were easy to forget after a full blast of his sarcastic and insulting nature.

She had no problem with him being snide and volatile at work. That was how he was. He pushed her, and as insulting as he could sometimes be, he also made her think and grow as a doctor. But if he was still able to casually rip into her on a personal level, in front of everyone, she didn't know how he could possibly give a damn about her. She sighed and took another drink.

Wilson, once more the reader of people, took that sigh as his cue to speak.

"He's very good at cutting people down. It's second nature to him."

Cameron huffed out a breath of air. "Yeah. He's a pro."

"Doesn't necessarily mean anything though. Just gives him something to say. Especially when he's not sure what he should really be saying." Wilson kept his head down, staring into his drink, but he saw Cameron looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "Despite all the jokes, he takes… sex… very seriously," he said, fumbling with that one word as if he was a teenage boy instead of a man with three marriages, and several mistresses under his belt. "He takes your relationship seriously. He just sucks at showing it."

"That's the understatement of the year," Cameron replied with a smirk.

"Come on," Wilson put down his drink and tapped Cameron's hand lightly. "Let's dance." He wasn't sure if he was offering for her sake, or House's sake, or his own.

"Why? So I can spend it stupidly hoping that he'll cut in?"

"No. Because you're a beautiful woman and it would be a shame to waste that dress you're wearing."

Wilson was a skillful flatterer and Cameron knew she was being played, but decided to go along with it. For not the first time, she wistfully thought of how much simpler things would be if she had fallen for Wilson instead of House. Well, aside from that whole married man thing.

"You realize that by the end of this dance, half the hospital will think we're having an affair," Cameron said as Wilson led her in a carefully measured box-step around the floor.

"Let them talk. It can only improve my reputation. After all, if the saintly Allison Cameron is willing to date me, then I can't be a completely heartless philanderer."

She laughed lightly, skirt swishing around their legs. "I honestly don't think anyone has ever blamed you for your affairs. You seem like such a great guy that everyone assumes your wives were all shrews."

"Sometimes I wish that was true. Might make me feel better about myself."

Cameron looked into Wilson's face and saw both the tightness around his mouth and the barely-disguised expression of self-loathing. As free as he was with his emotions, it was still rare to see them in regards to himself.

"Whatever you or anyone else thinks, you're a good man. The fact that you're still friends with House is proof of that."

A low chuckle brushed past Cameron's ear. "It's a bit sad that my most long-term relationship is with a sarcastic bastard with a limp."

"Hey, considering that I'm sleeping with the bastard, I could take that as an insult," Cameron replied with a wink. "And anyway, if you say that much louder, people really will be talking!"

Wilson changed his grip, holding Cameron slightly closer. "Eh, I think that went around the rumor mill shortly after Stacy left. Naturally House was very amused; he hasn't let me forget it since."

"Naturally."

The song ended and Wilson led Cameron off the floor. They could see House across the room, tossing back a drink while Foreman and Chase looked on.

Cameron gave Wilson's hand a little squeeze and she tried keeping her expression light. "Cuddy saw me, a few other doctors saw me. I think I've put in my face time for the night. I'm going to head home."

Wilson glanced from House back to Cameron. "You want me to drive you?"

She smiled at his concern. "No. I'm fine, and I brought my car.

"All right. If you're sure. You gonna tell him you're leaving?" He shrugged in House's general direction.

"As if he'd care," she replied, with a little shrug of her own. "He's a smart man. I'm sure he'll figure it out."

"Drive safe, Allison."

"I will." She started to walk away and then turned back. "Wilson, will you--"

"Yeah, I'll make sure he's fit to drive," he answered before she even finished the question while thinking how interesting it was that the two people House often went out of his way to insult were the ones who went out of their way to make sure he was all right.

He watched Cameron leave the function hall and then meandered towards House's table. It looked like desert was about to be served, and with any luck, House could be enticed into drinking some coffee.

Knock.

Knock!

KNOCK!

Cameron emerged from her bathroom, freshly scrubbed, pajama-clad, and mildly annoyed. Only one person would be at her door knocking at that volume. She walked to the door, gave a cursory glance through the peep-hole and released the chain.

"You get tired of the free bar?"

"Ha." He walked inside, squeezing past her body which was partially blocking the door.

"Come on in," she said with some exasperation as she shut the door and followed him into the living area.

House was still in his tux, but the ends of the tie were dangling and his shirt was partially unbuttoned. He looked sexy as hell and Cameron was having a hard time staying mad.

"Ditched the dress already, eh?" he said, by way of filling the air.

"Well it's not exactly practical lounge-wear," she said mildly.

"Looked good on you." Practically an effusive compliment, coming from him.

"Thanks," she replied, feeling her stomach flutter. She had become very adept at reading between the lines.

"Of course Wilson got a better look than I did. Probably a better feel too, with his hands all over you." He was tapping his cane and his eyes snapped to hers and then away and then back again.

"What?" Cameron was truly shocked. "House, you can't possibly be jealous of Wilson! He's your best friend!"

House waved her words aside with his cane. "Of course I'm not jealous! I don't get jealous. But tomorrow, it'll be all over the hospital. Little Jimmy and Allison sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G," he sing-songed.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "I teased Wilson about that and even I didn't believe it. No one's going to think anything and even if they did, they wouldn't say anything after seeing us share one dance."

"So says you."

She put her hands on her hips. "Yes. So says me. And anyway, what do you care? You went out of your way to make sure that no one would think that YOU might have an interest in me, so why do you care if people think that someone else does? Happier keeping me as the pristine virgin in your glass-walled tower?"

"First of all, being insulting is never an effort for me. Secondly, yes. Damn right."

Cameron blinked and then her eyes opened wider, her expression plainly showing that she couldn't believe what he'd just said. "What? Why?" she managed to sputter.

"I don't know!" he said, voice almost at a shout. "But I don't want anyone thinking you're with anyone else."

"I'm not your property!" Cameron shouted back, feeling an surge of anger rise in her chest.

House opened his mouth to yell back but closed it again when he discovered that he didn't have any words. That didn't mean he had run out of actions. He took one long stride forward and reached out, snagging Cameron around the waist and pulling her close, his cane bumping against her hip. Before she could voice her surprise he was kissing her hard, tongue sweeping along her lips before pushing deeper, lips slightly rough against her mouth. She arched forward, pale hands gripping his dark-suited arms, and the sounds of their breathing filled the air now strangely silent after their shouting.

They were in mid-kiss and House's left hand was just cupping her breast when Cameron seemed to come to her senses. She broke away with a gasp and took a step back.

"What the hell was that?"

"If you don't know, maybe we should try again," House said, sly innuendo momentarily replacing his sarcasm.

Cameron shook her head. "We were arguing. We can't just go from arguing to… to… THAT." She made a flurried motion with her hands to indicate the kisses that seemed too passionate and volatile to be so simply defined. "Because that's not how it works."

House moved close again. "What if I say that it IS how it works?"

Cameron had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. "Then you'd be wrong. I don't ask for much from you. I'm happy to keep things quiet at work. I don't care when you're an ass in the middle of a differential diagnosis. But if you think you're going to insult me outside of work and then come over here and--"

House's arm was suddenly around her back and he was breathing into her ear. "Stop talking. We both know how this ends. You. Me. Naked and sweaty, fucking like two oversexed teenagers. My Vicodin is wearing off, so let's skip the foreplay."

She didn't know whether to slap him or grab his face and shove her tongue down his throat. He sensed her indecision and spoke again.

"People talk about us," he said huskily. "They've never seen a thing, but they still talk. If they start thinking you and Wilson are together, they'll start talking about that instead. I'd rather have them talking about us."

And Cameron knew that for the moment, that was as close to a public declaration of commitment as House was going to make. It wasn't exactly every little girl's dream, but it had turned into hers. She started backing up towards the bedroom and pulled House along with her. It wasn't until they got through the doorway that she realized that she was doing it again. Letting House get away with behavior she would never accept from anyone else.

"Stop," she said harshly, feeling as annoyed with herself as she was with him. Her hand was flat against his chest, keeping him at a distance. "I'm not going to do this."

House's brows were low over his eyes and those blue orbs were darkening with both desire and irritation. They fastened on her face and seemed to be daring her to stop him.

"What now? Do I need to promise to go to couples' therapy?"

"No, you need to tell me you're not going to treat me like crap. That's what started all this. Not you being jealous. Not you being possessive. It started with you acting like an ass and making me feel like a fool."

"I treat everyone like crap."

"Yeah, well you're not sleeping with everyone!"

"And at the moment, I'm not sleeping with you either!"

"You think that's cute? Funny? Wilson told me that this… whatever this is we have here… isn't just about sex. Was he right? Because it doesn't feel like it. Right now it feels like I'm just stupidly deluding myself when really you just see me as a your whore."

Cameron's hand was still on House's chest, and he suddenly grabbed her wrist and stepped forward, invading her space, his breath hot against her face. "If I wanted a whore, I could get one, and she wouldn't argue with me," he growled.

"Yeah, but I'll fuck you for free," she said bitterly, refusing to look at him in case she was right.

House tightened his grip. "I thought you were done being insecure." The words rumbled out from deep in his chest.

The bit of fear that Cameron had instinctively felt, faded away and she looked up at him beseechingly. "Then--"

He cut her off sharply. "You want me to tell the whole damn hospital that we're together? Is that what you want? Or maybe some Hallmark card and a dozen roses on your desk? That's not who I fucking am, and you know it."

"That's not what I want," Cameron replied stubbornly. "And you know that."

He did, and he cast his glance to the side, irritated that she was right. "Insulting people is a habit of mine."

"So I've noticed."

Calloused fingers traced a feather-light touch over the soft skin of the inside of her wrist. House released a breath.

It was an apology that he could never speak, and she knew that he couldn't. At least he was acknowledging that she had a right to be upset. It was a start. For now, it would do.

She brought her other hand up and took hold of his, gently pulling it from her wrist and tugging him with her as she backed up until she bumped into the bed. With head tilted upwards, she looked up into House's eyes which were growing smoky with lust. His mouth was on hers a second later and she wrapped her arms around his waist, moving until he was the one against the bed.

With one push, he was sitting, and she took his cane and hooked it over the end of the bed and then positioned herself with one knee on either side of his hips. From that angle, she was actually looking down at him, and the neediness she saw in his face shot a bolt of desire to her core. Usually he was the one leading, pulling her clothes off or demanding that she strip. This time he let her take control, and she didn't know if it was another sign of his repentance or just a mood she hadn't seen before.

Her fingers tugged at the buttons on his stiff white dress shirt and slid it off his shoulders, spreading her hands over the plain white t-shirt beneath.

"I didn't think you owned any that didn't advertise a band," she said, her voice coming out husky, although she didn't intend it to.

"Yeah. I made a special exception tonight," he told her, bringing up his hands to cup her breasts through the soft cotton of her pajama top.

She made a soft mewling sound in the back of her throat when he rubbed his thumbs over her half-erect nipples, and she covered his hands with her own and squeezed them tighter, arching forward into his touch. He groaned and she felt him thrust upwards, the bulge in his pants ample evidence of his arousal. The last thing she wanted to do was move, but clothes were becoming a hindrance.

When she stood up, House took the opportunity to move fully onto the bed and watch while she slid her shirt up and off and her pants down and away. She still wore her silk panties, but her breasts were bare save for the fall of auburn hair that brushed over them. He wanted to keep looking, but she crawled on the bed again and started working at his belt. The shy innocence she often displayed was gone, replaced by a sultry look and it made him even harder. Maybe he needed to get her pissed off more often.

Then again, maybe not. No sense tempting fate.

He raised his hips and allowed her to remove the rest of his clothes.

"You'd probably have to pay extra to get a hooker to do this, eh?" Cameron murmured, and a second later she was kissing her way down his body.

Every kiss, every nibble, seemed designed to drive him more insane, and he felt the ultimate pleasure coiling in his belly. Just when he was sure he wouldn't be able to hold back anymore, but she pulled away, placing a final kiss in the center of his chest. Apparently she wasn't ready for things to be over.

Her hands were moving in a more soothing rhythm now, backing him away from the edge, but keeping him aroused. House used the little interlude to do some exploring of his own, tracing his fingers over her back and sides before taking her breasts into his hands again, weighing them, and marveling at the perfect softness of her skin while she kissed along his shoulders and chest.

The slower pace also let his mind wander back to her words. Words that had been instantly pushed aside when she'd used that expert mouth on him. He was mildly annoyed by the fact that they bothered him. That in even the smallest part of her mind she could actually believe that she was nothing more than a good lay to him. He didn't want to care. If she wanted to believe that, it was her choice. Unfortunately, he did care.

His strong hands spanned her waist and he tugged her forward. She looked down at him questioningly and he moved one hand to the back of her head and brought her face down to his so that he could taste her swollen lips. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth and she moaned, sagging slightly against him, delicate skin brushing along his firm chest. He kept kissing her, nibbling at her lips, drinking her in, telling her all those things he would never put into words.

She seemed to understand perfectly and when they finally broke apart, she lowered her mouth to his ear, whispering, "I'm ready."

Usually, for the sake of his leg, Cameron stayed on top, and she expected him to grab her hips and press up into her, but instead he rolled her over, drawing a gasp from her as he maneuvered himself into position and pushed into her completely in one long thrust. She let out a long keening moan and tilted her hips up, drawing him in even deeper. He ground into her, unable to use his hand on her and relying on the force of their union to push her over the edge. She started repeating his name, his given name, over and over and he moved above her feeling his climax building at the base of his spine. Only a few more seconds… just a few more… and then he felt her tightening around him, and heard her voice a thin, ecstatic cry. He fell over the edge to join her in ecstasy before her scream had even stopped echoing off the walls, and he barely noticed when his own shout joined it.

It was some time later before they were both breathing normally again, sweaty bodies cooling under a light sheet. Cameron curled against his left side, pillowing her head on his shoulder. They never fell asleep that way, but she had been surprised to learn that he actually wanted to hold her after they had sex. This time was no exception. His arm was only loosely draped around her shoulders, but she felt sheltered and content.

"A hooker wouldn't say my name." House's voice was slightly rough, and low, but loud enough for Cameron to hear.

"No," she said, after a moment's bewilderment, "probably not."

His sinewy arm tightened around her, and she felt a tightness in her chest caused by happiness instead of tears for a change.