Author's Note: Okay, it's time for the actual story to begin. The first 3 chapters were more like a prologue, a way to establish characters and the relationships not only between family and friends but also between lovers. As always, Wilson and Cuddy be the secondary ship within this fic but House and Cameron will have the majority of the spotlight.
This chapter will involve reactions from the others (including some one sided Chase/Cameron) and the lead in to a second better naked part.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
She had left him.
Not in the bad way, just in a practical way. After all, she couldn't show up to work in her Party gear. So, after making him coffee and waking him up, she had retreated back to her place to shower and think.
A shiver went down her spine as she remembered his deep kisses, his warm hands on her, trying to convince her to take a "sick day". She had been sorely tempted but they weren't like that yet. They weren't lovers who could do that without a whole bunch of subtext weighing between them. Playing hookey was for a later time…if they lasted to a later time.
Her heart had been put in the backseat again and now her brain was running the show. She was blissful that she had finally gotten into bed with him and that the sex had been (toe curling, earth shattering) good but there was a big sense of "What now?" How were they going to work this? Would they forget about it, push to the back burner of Mistakes? Would they go forward into a relationship? Would they do it again? She desperately hoped that they would.
Greg House had rocked her world just like she knew he would. Cameron had never thought that he could be addicted to him more but as always, he proved her wrong. Even now, she could feel her skin itching and her core heating, signaling that it was nearing a time for another fix.
Well, she wouldn't push him. If he wanted to do it again, then he would have to let her know. Of course, that didn't mean that she couldn't dress to impress and entice.
Standing in front of her full length mirror, she took it all in. She had found her ruby red v neck sweater and had put it on, noting how it accentuated the narrowness of her waist and the taut curves she possessed. She was no Cuddy but she knew that she had more than enough to work with. A pair of black slacks hugged her ass and a pair of 3 inch black sling backs pushed everything forward a little. She put on a snow white scarf and then a thigh length black cardigan, leaving it open in a formal lab coat effect.
Her hand stole to the big black clip she usually used to pin her hair up but she shook her head, deciding to leave her hair down. She had let it dry into her natural curls and she knew that he liked it like that. Last but not least, she picked up her bottle of vanilla/honey scented perfume and rubbed it on all her pulse points, including the one branded by him.
When he inevitably invaded her personal space, he'd be able to smell it on her, and if past experiences with other men indicated, love it.
//////////////
Robert Chase looked up from his crossword and watched as she unceremoniously dumped out the coffee he made and began a new pot. He made bad coffee on purpose just so he could watch her move as she made her ambrosia. Yeah, it was kind of creepy and definitely passive aggressive but it was the best he could do before House swooped in and caught her attention…as always.
What on Earth did she see in the man, anyway? He was old and crippled and just a straight up bastard to everyone and everything! How could someone as glorious as Allison Cameron want a man like that? More importantly, why couldn't she just want him like that?
Chase had fallen for her from the start. She was brilliant and sweet and absolutely gorgeous in an understated way. She didn't walk around with all her flesh showing and was modest almost to a repressed degree. He was curious about her. He wanted to see the woman she hid behind her shell.
Last night had been his breaking point. Cameron was someone who knew how to have a good time and she…she had a tattoo. He had always had a thing for women with ink but to see it on sweet Allison had driven him mad with desire for her. He spent nearly an hour working up the nerve to ask her out and then…
Bile rose in his throat as he remembered the way House had looked at her during his approach, like a dragon seeking to devour her. And then, she had actually let him manhandle her like some brute in the pub. Not only had she let him, she had enjoyed it! It was just…
A mug was set down in front of him and she sat down next to him, sending an intoxicating smell of vanilla and honey into his nostrils. It made him look up from his crossword…only to see a deep bite mark on her delicate throat, barely hidden by her scarf.
"Cameron…" he started with a look to the bite, knowing that it would match House's incisors like a glove to a hand.
"Yes, I slept with House last night and yes, he bit me. I don't mind it but I'd appreciate it if you'd stay quiet about it. The last thing I need is some nosy nurse spreading the word all over the hospital." she confirmed as if she were merely discussing the weather.
Hurt slammed into him like a sledgehammer and he asked somewhat bitterly, "Why? Shouldn't you be happy that you finally got him?"
Her gaze burned azure fire into him and he couldn't look away, entranced by the depth and beauty within the orbs. God, why did she want House?! Why couldn't she want him?!
"I am happy, Chase but it's private and more than a little complicated. Promise me that you'll keep quiet about it. You can tell Foreman if you want but other than that…promise me, Chase."
Every instinct screamed at him to go the nearest nurse and share this admittedly juicy gossip and then announce it over the intercom but before he could even think, he found himself agreeing, causing a brilliant smile to light up her face.
"Thanks, Chase. You're a great friend. Come find me if we get a case. I'll be checking House's email…again."
He watched the sway of her hips as she retreated across the hall and he sighed heavily.
He'd respect her wishes and as soon as House fucked her over again, he'd be there, ready and willing to be her shoulder to cry on.
Fortified by that thought, he picked up his crossword again, determined to finish it by the time House came in.
//////////////
He found her at his desk, primly typing an email and sipping at a mug of tea.
When she tilted her head, her scarf slipped away and showed the brand he had left on her. A slight smile curved his lips at the sight and the memory of her taste. She didn't look up when he came in but he that she knew that he was there. The way that she worried at her lower lip gave her away.
"Morning, Cameron." he greeted as he sat down across form her.
"Good morning, Dr. House. I'm almost done with your mail. Do we have a case?" she replied cordially and without breaking her gaze away from the monitor.
What the hell? He had expected her to be all nervous and swoony, not calmly professional. She wasn't even clenching, for God's sakes! What was wrong with this woman? Why couldn't she stay readable for more than a damned hour?
Irked, he picked up his tennis ball and started tossing it to himself.
"No, we don't have a case but I do. 35 year old female. She slept with her boss that she's been pining for but now, she's acting like it doesn't matter. Maybe it didn't and it was just a game to her, a box to be checked off."
She sighed and looked up at him, showing him that he had nothing to worry about. She was affected by it and it had rocked her world as well as his. Good.
"Maybe she just doesn't want to be a spectacle for the rest of her colleagues. Maybe she's barely suppressing the urge to pounce on the aforementioned boss so she doesn't scare him into pushing her away…again." she 'suggested' bitterly.
House sighed. She trusted him enough to let him come in her but not enough to put faith that he may actually want to try this "relationship" bullshit out. He really couldn't blame her. Once bitten, twice shy. And he had bitten her numerous times…
"I'm not going to push you away, Cameron. Not on purpose." he finally said quietly.
He really was going to try. He liked the idea of them being a "them" and pushing her away would be counterproductive…
Her body language relaxed and finally, he could see the swoony little smile he had been looking for, warming him.
"I'm glad." she replied while slipping her hand into his.
It was impossibly soft and delicate. One little twist and it would probably break. Hand painted gold polish sparkled in the sun and traced each knuckle with his thumb, enjoying the flutter and gallop of her pulse. House could feel a heated, passive aggressive glare on the back of his head and he rolled his eyes as Chase abruptly looked away as he turned around.
"I think Wombat Boy knows. I can feel his rays of death on my bald spot."
"He does. He saw the cattle prod brand you put on my neck and you don't have a bald spot." she grumbled good naturedly.
"What does he care anyway? It's not like he has a little crush on you…ohh…"
A maniacal grin lit up his face and she lurched her hand out of his grasp, laughingly holding him back from heading into the Conference Room.
"Leave him alone, okay? I've gotten him sworn to silence except for Foreman and I don't want you and your…House-ness endangering that."
He stopped struggling and looked at her quizzically.
"And just how did you convince him to do that? Bribe him with a threesome?"
"Ew, no! I just asked him nicely and rationally. I wouldn't have sex with him even if you paid me. Not that he's not nice and all but he's just…not my type." she replied quickly.
That's because he was her type, not Wombat Boy. She preferred a bastard like him over someone that would treat her like a Queen. It was sad. Gratifying but really, really sad.
"Once you go House, you never go back." he leered while sliding a hand to her ass.
She blushed pink and pulled away, muttering under her breath about "dirty old men" and wandering hands.
He hadn't been this amused since he put that frog in Cuddy's desk.
//////////////
Eric Foreman sighed as he continued to listen to Chase's ranting about House and Cameron and suppressed the urge to strangle the man. Yeah, House and Cameron were an unholy union 98% doomed to fail but it was their own business. If they wanted to date and…do other things...then it was their prerogative.
"…and I just…"
"Don't get it, want her, and feel like an idiot for not trying harder to get her away from that cruel bastard House…yeah, yeah, I get it! Let it go, man! Cameron's pretty and smart but there are more fish in the sea! Let it go before House hears you and fires you and before I strangle you!"
The Australian man looked at him and back out at Cameron who was studying the patient's charts intently with House. As usual, they were misdiagnosing left and right and they were missing something big. What was different was the way House interacted with her. He was still sarcastic and bitter but it was softer towards her, more teasing than cruel.
Foreman's eyes narrowed as his arms went around her from behind, letting her relax against him. He opened the door so he could hear them talking.
"She's going to die, House. She's going to die because we can't help her…"
"Nobody's dying today, Cameron. We'll figure out what's wrong with Mindy…"
"Cindy."
"…whatever... and make sure she'll be okay and her little rugrat too."
She perked up and turned around to look at him suspiciously as she connected the dots.
"Wait? She's pregnant? That's not in her charts!"
"She probably doesn't even know. After all, she's 18 and stupid."
Foreman chuckled as she kissed House on the cheek and ran out the door, saying excitedly that she knew what was wrong now. Chase looked absolutely ill and Foreman left him behind, wanting to wait for Cameron in peace.
As far as he was concerned, as long as they kept solving cases (and didn't make out in front of him), then House and Cameron were fine in his book.
//////////////
She hummed along with the music in her iPod as she pressed the down button for the elevator and thought about what she was going to do when she got home. There was a recipe from 30 Minute Meals that she wanted to try and she had just gotten some more bath oil from CVS. A bath would be a nice end to a productive day…and it would be good for her aching legs and back.
Sex with House was a full body act, resulting in muscles that she had forgotten she had loudly protesting her activities. A soak in her claw foot tub and a glass of wine would be a good cure.
The doors opened and there was House leaning against the back railing with his usual shit eating smirk.
"Going down?" he asked lustfully.
"I'll take the next one." she replied while turning away.
A high squeak escaped her as she was yanked in by her purse strap and before she could even blink, he was kissing her hard. She struggled weakly against him but soon ended up clawing at him, hitching her leg up so she could get closer. She'd been wanting to do this all day! He grunted and broke the kiss but refused to let go of her, even when she asked nicely.
"No. You're taking me home with you." he replied matter of factly.
"Why?"
"Relationships are all about equality. You were at my place last night so tonight I'm at yours. Plus, I don't want 'I need to get back to my place' to be an excuse for you to get out of bed and floor it like Spongebob down the street. Don't think I didn't hear you."
She sighed wearily and conceded, "Fine but don't expect me to cook something fresh for you. You're getting whatever leftovers I have left in my fridge, regardless of the expiration date."
"You're so good to me, baby. I've always wanted food poisoning ala Chicken Fried Rice.", he gushed insincerely as he lowered her leg.
"Go to hell."
//////////////
She had done some redecorating.
The walls were painted a deep plum purple and there were new curtains, the color of her scarf. The treadmill she was so fond of was moved to the area near the sliding doors and he could see photos that weren't there before. Over the fireplace, there was a huge portrait of her with her siblings, covered in mud and grass. She was holding a football in her hand and grinning like a loon. On the right side of the mantle was a color photo of a red haired woman and a brown haired man, both grinning outside a modest cottage in the mid 70s, the woman obviously pregnant.
Her parents…she looks just like her mom…
What drew his gaze the most was the photo on the other side of the mantle. It was of the team at a bar. He was even in it, talking in the background with Wilson and Cuddy. He was…smiling. He hadn't smiled in a picture since before college….or so he thought.
Plopping down on her couch, he picked up her remote and turned on Wheel of Fortune. It was a habit from his early years. He used to watch it with his mom every night, their own time away from John. It was funny to watch the overly perky people screw up on national TV. Like now. The puzzle was obviously…
"Going to Watch the Sunset Strip. Ugh, I hate puns." Cameron grumbled as she came into the kitchen.
"I thought you hated Sports Metaphors."
"Those too. Hope you don't mind leftover Thai food. It's only a day old."
"Eh, it's fine. You got any beer?"
She rummaged through the refrigerator and then warned, "Heads up."
Turning, he caught the bottle of Guinness before it hit the hardwood and he tilted the bottle in silent thanks before settling in to watch her. She had on a pair of black yoga pants and large red flannel shirt, looking like a refugee from a Nirvana concert. Her movements in the kitchen were instinctive and methodical, heating the noodles up in a pan and adding her own vegetables.
"You know, usually a doctor's idea of cooking is top ramen and spam casserole."
She laughed and replied, "Well, not me. For one thing, my mother taught me how to cook for real and for another, I DON'T LIKE SPAM."
He recognized the screeching indignance instantly.
"You know Monty Python?"
"Uh, yeah. My first word was Gumby."
"I didn't know that."
"That's because you don't bother to ask. You assume and stick with your assumptions until you're proved wrong." she replied with no malice, just blunt fact.
She came over with two plates and curled up behind a pillow, watching as the He-Haw extra on the show won a car. She was right about him. Asking questions seemed to be a waste of time since everyone lied anyway so he didn't bother. He observed and drew his own conclusions. Since they tended to be right, he never considered changing his MO.
Until her…again. Damn it!
Downing the rest of his beer, he pulled her to him gently. Pushing the flannel out of the way, he began to leave a new love bite on the top of her right breast, right near the birthmark there. With a quiet sigh, she brought her hand to his head and ran her fingers through his salt and pepper hair. House splayed a hand on her back and nuzzled down to the black lace of her bra.
When he made to unbutton her shirt the rest of the way, she stopped him.
"Come on. If we're going to do this, we're doing it in bed." she purred.
He had no problem with that idea.
