A/N: Okay, so. As a lot of you noted, there's a lot of Thirteen-as-predator stories out there. That wasn't really my intention. This story sort of… manifested itself while I was watching the older episodes where Cameron was the aggressor (sexually at least) with Chase and wondered why that facet of her personality was rarely brought out. So I tried to play to that Cameron as much as possible. Because I miss her.
Disclaimer: Forgot to do this on the last chapter, but I don't own anything. There is no original thoughts anymore and I don't claim ownership of any currently in circulation.
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Thirteen's fingers trembled as she gripped the steering wheel tighter. The adrenaline still rushing through her veins made her antsy; she felt like she could run a mile in no time flat. Though, why she chose flight instead of fight she'd never know. She pushed back into the headrest, trying to calm her humming nerves. What the hell had she been thinking? A few minutes passed, and a car carrying a blonde surgeon pulled into the parking lot. Thirteen shoved the keys clumsily into the ignition and peeled out, if he spotted her, she'd surely have to talk to him.
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"Why did you leave like that last night?"
Thirteen jumped, startled by the sound of Cameron's voice. She turned away from her patient to acknowledge the other doctor's presence.
"I don't think now is the best time to be discussing this." She turned back to the patient, and commanded "Pull your knees to your chest. Tighter. Good. Thank you, Mr. Reynolds."
"I don't see why." Cameron replied, walking farther into the room. "I mean, I'm just curious as to why you had to rush out."
An alien voice interrupted the conversation, and both women looked down at the man on the bed. "Um, excuse me, but- are you two dating?"
Cameron giggled, "No. I have a boyfriend."
Thirteen shot her a look, then glanced back at her patient. "Me too. His name's Eric."
"Oh."
"I shouldn't have been there anyway." Thirteen said, this time directing the comment to Cameron.
"I don't see anything wrong with you showing up. I mean, yeah it was a little unexpected but-" Cameron paused, finding herself all together too interested in how much deeper the brunette's breathing got as she slowly inserted the needle into Mr. Reynolds' back. Still watching Thirteen's chest rise and fall slowly and pointedly, Cameron finished. "It was… I mean, it was all right. I understand Foreman can be a handful."
"Wait. You mean-unh-Foreman as in-ow-Dr. Foreman?" Mr. Reynolds asked incredulously between pained gasps.
Thirteen sighed, letting the spinal fluid drain into the test tube. "Yes. That Dr. Foreman."
"You could do way better."
Before anyone could respond Cameron's pager went off and she was off to the ER.
Thirteen finished the rum in her glass, sighing as the cool ice hit her lips. It was refreshing in a place like this, which was pulsing with body heat. The bartender walked over, placing another one in front of her and pointing to a girl at the other end of the bar. "Four." She mouthed, laughing as she walked away. Drink number four paid for by a girl that didn't stand a chance. But as long as the bartender had poured it, she might as well drink it, right? This one was a shot, and she tipped it quickly down her throat. Her entire body burned, both from the heat emanating from the dance floor and the alcohol burning it's way through her digestive system. She decided now was as good a time as any to take a break, glancing over the crowd to try and find her friend, who had disappeared some time ago with a girl who looked about as drunk as Thirteen was feeling now. She stumbled out into the brisk air, feeling an almost erotic rush as the sweat on her body cooled instantly. She leaned against the wall, wondering if it was the only thing supporting her at the moment.
"Well, well. Imagine seeing you here." Remy's head snapped up, coming face to face with a familiar face, though she couldn't quite make it out at the moment. She squinted, watching the eight different images slowly circling into one.
"House? What the hell are you doing here?" She was sure she had slurred, but tried to fake her sobriety by standing straight anyway.
"Oh, I was just wandering through-"
"The gay village in New York?" Thirteen cut him off.
"Okay, you caught me. I'm a leather daddy. The cane is just a prop I use for punishing boys when they've been bad." House deadpanned.
Thirteen simply ignored the comment. "Did you follow me? You sick fucking-"
"Actually, I followed Cameron here."
"What?" Thirteen straightened immediately, feeling that familiar fight or flight mechanism rear its head.
"Ah. The plot thickens," House grinned cheekily, "why do you care where Cameron is?"
"I just…" Thirteen sighed, her defensive stance faltering. "I don't."
"Right." House nodded. If his smirk had been any larger, it would have consumed his face. "Cameron and Thirteen sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
"Shut up, House." Her inebriated brain couldn't think of anything better to retort with, "I'm going inside."
"Good. Me too." House began following her in, being stopped at the door by the bouncer. "What? I'm with her." The man simply shook his head. "I'm handicapped."
"Does that ever work?" The bouncer's deep voice seemed to boom even in the expansive night air.
"You'd be surprised."
"Go home, old man."
"We must stop meeting like this." Cameron greeted, grinning widely.
"You're right." Thirteen glanced at her, then back at the screen in front of her, "If by 'meeting' you mean 'you cornering me while I'm with a patient, then you're right.'" The MRI screen flickered through another layer of the patient's brain and Thirteen leaned forward into the microphone. "You're doing great, Mr. Reynolds. Just another couple of minutes."
"I just want to talk to you, but you keep running away from me."
"What were you doing in the Village last night, then?" Thirteen snapped.
"What are you talking about?" Cameron asked, laughing.
"House. He said he followed you to New York last night."
"Right. And you believed him? Even if I did go to New York last night, I don't see what that would have to do with you." There was a pause before Cameron finally added, "Why do you care so much, anyway?
Thirteen sighed, turning back to the screen. "I don't."
"Yes. You do." Cameron leaned forward, grabbing onto the other doctor's forearm. Thirteen pulled away immediately, eliciting a sigh from the blonde. "Look. I know everyone thinks I'm naïve because I actually care about my patients, because I married a dying guy. But I had a life before that, you know. Went to college. I found out there that if you want young, insecure little college boys to give you what you want, you have to tell them exactly what you want." Cameron leaned forward; grazing Thirteen's ear with her lips, "Show them exactly what you want." She let her lips caress the skin on the brunette's neck, feeling the skin contract against her lips as the girl swallowed.
"Cameron." Remy whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. "Y-You have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend. I-I can't." She hit a button and stood—breath far more ragged than usual—walking out to help Mr. Reynolds into a wheelchair.
Cameron sighed and leaned back, running a hand through her hair. This girl was such a tease.
