Chapter 2

House spent the remainder of the afternoon in his office in solitude, impatiently waiting for the day to end so he could get another free meal out of Wilson. Foreman had joined the other three in the clinic to make the hours go faster, and House finally decided to go bug someone else until it was time to go.

Stepping off the elevator, he slowly weaved his way through the busy emergency room until he spotted the petite blonde he was seeking out. She looked up as if on cue and met his eyes. Her beauty was undeniable, he knew it, as did every other man in this place. House always found it somewhat amusing that he could have had Cameron with literally a snap of his fingers…well, ok, maybe not that easily, but still it wouldn't have taken much to get her naked in his bed and begging for him to make her come.

He was attracted to her; he couldn't deny that. There was just something about Cameron, though, that didn't do it for him. Maybe it was the way she cared about every single human being, or her loathsome need to stand up for the little guy, defend the weak, speak for the silent…to him she was Mother Teresa reincarnated. Not quite 'fuck my brains out' material.

Yet he had to admit, he didn't know everything about Cameron. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of her stretching, rubbing her hand along her neck, arching her back, occasionally exposing a hint of flesh under her scrubs, running her tongue unconsciously along her lips as she concentrated on something, the sway of her hips when she walked. And of course there was the way she kissed him that one time, albeit to deceive him, the way she moved her lips against his, the way her tongue dueled with his own…yes, he could say Allison Cameron had potential.

Lisa Cuddy, on the other hand…he knew from personal experience. She was the real deal. He remembered all those years ago, the way she moved on top of him, the sounds she made as she grew closer to orgasm, the way she liked to claw her nails down his back as he drove inside her repeatedly until she screamed his name. It was a long time ago, but just as fresh in his mind as what he had eaten for breakfast that morning.

'That ship has sailed,' she had told him, and he wholeheartedly agreed. That ship sailed and sank by now. She stood for everything he hated: authority, everything done by the book, following the rules. So why couldn't he stop thinking about her?

"Wow, you look like shit," Cameron said, snapping him back to reality.

"Hello to you, too," he replied, leaning on the reception desk.

"You ok?" she asked.

"Do I look ok? Oh, wait, you just answered that for me," snarked House.

Cameron returned to jotting notes in her file, ignoring his usual personality quirks. "Are you bored?"

"No case," he said, his eyes glancing around the room. "Busy day?"

"Multi-car accident kept us busy," she said, closing the file and handing it to the nurse behind the desk. "But my shift ends in 20 minutes, and if you ask me, it's not a minute too soon. I am exhausted."

"Boy Wonder keeping you up to the wee hours?" House said, wagging his eyebrows.

"Looks to me like you're the one getting little sleep…your hookers making you think you can screw like a college kid again?"

House smirked. Cameron had definitely changed since she had worked for him. She was stronger, more confident. Not the innocent ingénue she was when she first came to him.

Suddenly the familiar sound of heels clicking against linoleum made his heart stop momentarily. He could even smell her before she reached them…that sickening sweet smell of her perfume that usually made him want to wretch. It still did, but not before he ran his hands all over her body.

"Damn it," he whispered to himself. Cameron narrowed her eyes at him, sensing something was up.

"House," Cuddy snapped.

Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, yet he cursed under his breath again as he felt his body react to her presence.

"Foreman was kind enough to deliver your message, although I'm sure he put it a bit more eloquently than you originally intended," Cuddy said, standing directly in front of him.

"Excuse you, but we're having a conversation here," House said, motioning towards Cameron. "How do you know we're not discussing a case?"

"Because you have no case."

"But Cameron might…she called me down for a consult."

"Sorry, House, you're on your own for this one," Cameron said, grinning mischievously.

"Remember when I was your boss and I could order you to lie for me?" House said, looking up at the ceiling, pretending to reminisce.

"You're not my boss anymore," she stated matter-of-factly. He met her eyes again.

Just then Chase appeared from around the corner in his coat, his messenger bag draped over his shoulder. Cameron looked up at him and smiled.

"Hey," he said to her.

"Hey," she replied. "Done?"

"Yep, you ready to go?"

"Got a few more minutes on my shift," Cameron replied.

"Ok, I'll hang out," said Chase.

Cuddy smiled at House victoriously. He rolled his eyes. "I believe you have a stack of insurance forms on your desk to complete, Dr. House. Either fill them out or you'll be doing clinic from 9 to 5 for two weeks straight."

He stared into her eyes, the hatred filling him laced with a desire that had him so heated he fought back the urge to pull his collar from constricting his throat. Cameron noticed a sheen of sweat form on his forehead as she studied him.

"Have a good night Cameron and Chase," Cuddy said, smiling at them before shooting daggers at House with her eyes and clicking back down the hall.

"You sure you're ok?" Cameron questioned him. "You look a little pale…and sweaty."

"Yeah, I thought you were unphased by Cuddy," Chase added. "Looks like she's got you all hot and bothered."

Interesting, Cameron thought to herself.

House glared at them both and turned without a response, limping quickly back to the elevator. Once safely inside, alone, he wiped his brow and steadied his breathing. He felt himself growing angrier with his own body, the way it was betraying him, ignoring his will.

"Traitor," he said, looking down at his groin. "She's poison, and you know that. So stop reacting to her and let me think with my other head for once in my life. I'm in control, not you."

The doors opened and he saw Wilson heading down the hallway towards his office.

Finally, he thought, pulling his trusty orange vial from his pocket and popping two Vicodin into his mouth. I need a drink.