What Does a Guy Have To Do

She's collected a sample of every likely source of contagion in the cop's apartment. When Cameron comes out of the door, House is waiting in the hall. "Why doesn't anyone listen to me anymore?"

"I decided you were wrong."

He shakes his head. "God you're weak. Guy steals your article, tells you you're not his friend. You still wanna risk your life for him."

She pulls the mask from her head. "Foreman broke my skin with a tainted needle."

"Wow."

"Yeah," she says, angrily.

"God you're weak." Cameron scoffs at this; there's no pleasing him. "Guy tried to kill you. First thing on my list of things do would be to stab him back. Shoot him. Got a gun in my desk. Last thing would be on my list would be to lie to my boss about it and give the bastard everything he wanted."

"I'm not here for Foreman. I'm here to save myself."

House shakes his head from side to side, as if he's considering this. "Even with a needle stick your chances of infection are pretty slim. That's why you're wearing the suit. You wanted to be here. He just gave you the excuse." Cameron glares at him, as if she's waiting for the point of all this. "What does that guy have to do to make you hate him?"

This pisses her off royally, and she grabs the bag of samples and makes to walk past him. His cane shoots out before her, blocking her path, and he rises. Advances on her. He looks into her eyes; a moment passes. "Give me the bag."

oOoOo

They're gathered in Cuddy's office to argue. House turns to Cameron, sarcastic. "You're sorry? You're talking about this man's son. You're denying him the right to be a part of—"

Cuddy snaps, "Oh, shut up, House." She turns to Cameron. "If you want to do the biopsy, do the biopsy. If House tries to interfere, let me know and I will take care of it."

Cameron snears at her. "Yeah, you're a hero. If it wasn't for you, we'd be cutting into a dead guy's head instead of Foreman's." House looks impressed; Cuddy looks abashed. Her tone softens. "Sorry. Thanks." She leaves the office in a rush to start the procedure, with House at her heels.

He calls after her, "That was great!"

She doesn't even turn. She growls through gritted teeth, "It was rude and unnecessary."

"Yeah," he says, in a tone that conveys that was the great thing about it.

"Go away."

He continues to chase her. "Give me time."

She turns to face him. "We're out of time."

"An hour," he pleads.

oOoOo

Much later than Cameron would have expected to see him, House walks into his office and finds her sitting at his desk, drinking his emergency scotch from his red coffee mug. Although there will be no lasting damage from the parasites, Foreman is still in a coma and neither knows if there will be ramifications of the biopsy. He sits down across from her and drinks directly from the bottle.

She has a glassy look in her eyes, and she shakes her head. "It was the right thing to do."

"It was," he says, and drinks again.

She's surprised to hear him agree, and her puzzlement shows on her face. "You told me to wait," she trails off.

"You waited as long as you could, you did the ballsy, risky thing, and you saved the patient's life." Cameron nods as she takes this in. She sips from the mug. He continues, "And you yelled at Cuddy, which was fucking brilliant."

She can't hold back laughing at this. Then something replays in her mind, and she looks more serious. 'What does a guy have to do to make you hate him.' His cane blocking her path; the way he looked at her. Were it not for the medical emergency, she'd have taken him by force.

She looks at the desk. "I could never hate you."

His brow furrows, but then he realizes what she must be talking about. He'd called her weak for not hating Foreman, but in reality it was a fascinating new piece to the Cameron puzzle. Foreman had thrown her under the train; risked her life for the express purpose of saving his own, yet she didn't hate him. Her ability to forgive was mind-boggling. All this time, House had thought she liked him for his flaws; that she needed someone damaged. Now for the first time it occurred to him she could like him despite his flaws.

"How much have you had?" She extends her index finger and points to a level on the mug that makes driving ill-advised. "I'll take you home."

oOoOo

The cool air and time begin to sober Cameron, so she keeps her eyes closed while he drives to discourage conversation. When the car stops she looks around. "Where are we?"

"I said I'd take you home."

She rubs her hand over her face. "I assumed you meant my home."

As he opens his door and steps out, he says, "Next time I'll be more clear. You coming in?"

It had to be like this. Somehow she's finally passed whatever the test is, and now the velvet rope is lifted and she's welcome inside the club. He expects her to walk right in. She feels a brief flash of rage. She'd like to make him feel as rejected as she's felt all this time, and this is her chance. Then, just as fast, her anger melts away. This is what she's been waiting and waiting and waiting for; she won't spoil it by being petulant. She unfastens her seatbelt and follows him inside.

Just inside the door, he shocks her by grabbing her waist and pressing her against the wall. He leans in, about to kiss her, and pauses—staring into her eyes. "I'm an asshole," he says, like a warning.

"I know."

"And a drug addict."

"I know."

He kisses her, so hard the back of her head bumps against the wall. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving her breathless. "Do you wanna get a coffee sometime?"

She laughs. "Yeah, that'd be great." He presses his lips to hers again, and kisses her hungrily while his hands grope over her clothes then under them. Within seconds it's too erotic for standing. "House, House," she says as she pushes him away. "Show me your bedroom."

He retrieves his cane from where it leans against the door, and leads the way. He pauses in the dim doorway, but she brushes past and kneels on the bed. She pulls off her shoes and throws them to the floor. She pulls off her shirt, and House is momentarily dumbstruck by her body: round breasts over tight abs—his jaw drops. She says his name, and he snaps out of it and undresses. She follows suit.

Even though he's already hard and she's already dripping, when he joins her on the bed he does nothing but kiss her; run his hands over her smooth skin. Her fingers touch his scruffy face, run through his hair. They kiss for minutes.

Soon she is so hungry for him that she wraps her thighs around his left leg. He can feel her writhing against his skin, warm and wet. Desperate.

House rolls her onto her back, and pushes into her. All she can think is finally finally finally, until he begins to make love to her in earnest. Then she can't think at all.

She wraps her legs around him and locks her ankles; her hands clutch the bedding. His breath on her neck, his stubble on her cheek, his hard cock inside her—nothing could be better. She whispers, "oh my god, House," then kisses him just below the ear.

This spurs him on; he fucks her harder. His leg is screaming, and it becomes too much. He holds her waist and rolls onto his back, pulling him over her.

Now she is straddling him, grinding her body against his. He watches as her hands cup her breasts, and she pinches her nipples. Continuing to rock against him, she slides her hands down her body. She leans closer, and braces herself with her left hand on the mattress. Meanwhile, her right hand is rubbing her clit. Watching her this way, fucking him while she touches herself sets off an explosion in him. "Cameron, I'm gonna," and he shakes with the intensity of his orgasm.

Seeing his reaction to her drives her crazy. She rubs her clit harder and comes just after him. Cameron lies against his chest and kisses him again, savoring the last seconds of having him inside her. They would both like to keep kissing all night, but it's been a very long day. Eventually Cameron rolls to his left and snuggles against his side, and sleeps.

oOoOo

In the morning she wakes with a start when she is hit in the head with what turns out to be a wadded ball of her clothes. As she realizes what he's thrown at her, she glares at him with a question in her eyes.

"Get dressed. Let's go get that coffee."

FIN