Disclaimer: House is not mine. God I wish he was though.

Rating: M... smutty business today folks...

Pairings: House/Cameron

Spoilers: Umm not sure but I'll say Seasons 1 and 2 just to be sure.

Addiction: Chapter Six

Sitting in his office, Dr Gregory House tossed his grey and red ball up in the air and caught it again. He repeated this action several times before tossing the ball onto his desk, atop the yet-to-be-sorted piles of mail that covered it. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small container, which held his Vicodin and popped two of them into his mouth and set the bottle on his desk, massaging his right thigh with his hand. The motorbike did that to his leg every time, but he would always conveniently forget about the pain while riding, until a half hour later when the pain finally kicked in. Having a bum leg sucked. Standing up, he limped into the conference room, expected to find all three of his ducklings, but found only the recently returned duckling sitting at the table skimming over what looked like a new case.

"New case?" he said loudly.

"Yes. 37 year old female, fever, headache, pneumonia, malaise," Cameron reeled off as she stood to get a mug of coffee.

"Did you get a history? Where's Mutt and Jeff?" he said, going over to pick up the patient file.

"I got a pretty basic history. She's on holiday here, she lives in Australia. Hasn't had any severe illness before, and there's nothing in the family history," she said, then with a smile she added, "Jeff's down in Neurology, and Mutt's on clinic duty."

House nodded, a slight smile on his lips, "Go get Jeff and do the regular party mix of tests. When you're done, drag Mutt up here for the differential."

After Cameron left, he sat on one of the chairs around the glass table in the centre of the conference room. Leaning back on the chair, he sighed, frustrated. He was back to fighting the temptation to... to... hell, he wasn't even sure what it was he wanted anymore. One minute he was shunning Cameron, the next he was practically pouncing on her. He didn't know what to do anymore, and being out of control was not a feeling Gregory House liked at all. He had thought this before, and he was really believing it now: she was addictive. Like a drug, except worse. She lowered his inhibitions, until he had almost no control over his actions and then he would end up almost completely surrendering to her. Lost in his thoughts, he hardly noticed Foreman, Cameron and Chase taking their seats around the table and looking at him expectantly.

Finally he looked over at them and said, "Differential diagnosis, people. What have the tests told us so far?"

They began rattling off possible diseases, based on the results from the lumbar puncture. House wrote the more likely ones on the white board, and scoffed at the ones that were unlikely. He ordered them to go "do their thing", and stood in front of the white board tapping the curved handle of his cane against it. Headache, fever, pneumonia, malaise. Pneumonia, headache, malaise, fever. These symptoms swirled around his brain, temporarily distracting him from his thoughts of Cameron. His best guess was rat-bite fever, which presented with all of these symptoms, as well as myalgia and rashes. Foreman had mentioned though, that she definitely didn't have any sort of rash, but had been complaining of achy muscles. What irritated him most was, that he knew the fact that she lived in Australia probably had something to do with it, and that the answer was probably lurking elusively in the back of his mind. Limping over to the coffee machine, he saw the someone had already made it, (it had better have been Cameron) so he poured himself a mug and sat down at the head of the table, reaching to grab the abandoned case file and examining it once again.

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Cameron leaned in to look through the eyepiece of the microscope. Using the knob on the side of the device, she adjusted the magnification until the image was clear. After noting down some information, she pulled another folder from the pile and did the same. She found lab work pretty bleak, but it was an excellent distraction from the happenings of her life as well as allowing herself to isolate herself from the congested main hospital. Shivering slightly, she pulled her white lab coat tighter around her body. She pondered House's behaviour before, during the differential session. At first she had thought he was trying not to look at her at all, but once she caught him gazing at her while she wasn't looking, but looked away hastily when she happened to catch him. He had been acting strangely ever since they had kissed on the evening of the fundraising function. The one thing she knew for sure was: she probably would never understand that man. Smiling to herself and shaking her head slightly, she moved to get a new box of slides from the cabinet on the other side of the room.

After a couple of hours doing lab work, she decided to call it a day (or rather, night), so she packed up the remaining files and then made her way back to Diagnostics. There was hardly anyone around as she stopped at the locker room to ditch her lab coat, before getting into the elevator and walking down the hallway until she reached the conference room. A quick glance at her watch told her why: it was almost nine, so most doctors would have gone home already. Foreman and Chase would have left hours ago, and when she glanced into House's office, she saw that it too was deserted. Walking over to her desk she flipped on the desk lamp and began to sort the mess of paperwork that had gathered on her desk over the past week. A couple needed to be signed by House, so she stood to go and leave them on his desk. Upon entering the dark office, and crossing over to his desk, she noticed that the small bottle that held his Vicodin was sitting on top of a cream folder, obviously forgotten by its owner. She tossed the papers she had come in with onto his desk, before picking up the bottle of pills. Biting her lip, she knew he would need them pretty soon, if not already, as the last time she had seen him take his dose was at least three hours ago. Sighing, she pocketed the bottle, making the decision to stop by his place on her way home to give him his pills. She returned to her desk, gathering her belongings, shouldering her satchel and switching off her lamp.

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House sat hunched over his piano, playing a Bach piece, then fluidly switched to one of his own compositions. A few minutes later he stopped abruptly, and moved his right hand off the keys to knead his throbbing thigh. He could only divert himself for so long before the pain became unbearable and seized his whole attention. He couldn't believe he had forgotten his pills. His choices were fucking fantastic too: he could either go all the way back to the hospital for them- in excruciating pain, or, try to last through the night- in excruciating pain. He made his way over to the couch and sat down, tilting his head back to rest on the back of it. He had just closed his eyes when he heard a series of knocks on his front door. Cursing, he stood and limped to the door, pausing to look through the peephole. Shit. Cameron. What was she doing here? He was lucky his aching leg rendered him out of commission since he could hardly trust himself around her recently. Opening the door, he calmly waited for her to speak.

"Uh, you left your pills... I thought you'd probably need them," Cameron said hastily.

House nodded, trying to hide his enormous gratitude, as she handed him the bottle. "Do you like scotch?" he said before turning to limp back inside.

Cameron took this as some kind of an invitation for her to go inside, so she stepped over the threshold and closed his door behind her. He had already left for the kitchen so she was free to gaze around his cluttered townhouse. It was dimly lit, but looking around, she thought that it suited House perfectly. In the kitchen, House cupped two pills quickly to his mouth, swallowing them dry. Pouring two glasses of scotch, he carried them and the bottle into the living room where Cameron was now seated on the couch. He sat down next to her, handing her one of the glasses and putting the bottle on the coffee table. They sat together on the couch, only a few inches separating them, in comfortable silence. She wasn't sure what it was that made it comfortable, she just knew that it was: for both of them.

A bit later, Cameron glanced at the clock and saw that it was half-past ten. She looked sideways at House, who was swirling his second scotch around in his glass, the ice making chinking sounds as it collided with the sides of the glass.

She spoke softly. "Maybe I should go now."

He looked up at her swiftly, trying to read the emotions in her eyes, but at the same time, trying to hide the emotions in his. He didn't want her to go. He just didn't know how to tell her that. Most of all, he shouldn't want to tell her that. She must have mistaken his sharp look, because she stood abruptly and moved past him towards the door. Before he knew what he was doing he rose quickly and followed her. When she reached the door she turned around and looked at him. Heart pounding in his chest, he stepped forward, ignoring the nagging thoughts that told him this was a bad idea, and leant down, kissing her gently. He felt her stiffen slightly with surprise, but then return the kiss, moving her lips over his. He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth after she had opened it slightly, and slipping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. She placed one of her hands on his chest and one around his neck, and moaned softly when he bit her lip lightly. His stubble was grazing against her, but it only added to the sensuality of the kiss. Reaching up a hand to slide it through her silken hair, cupping her head to bring her closer still, he told himself he had to stop. He had gone through this before: she was too young, too beautiful, too... everything, to be with him. They would only end up hurting each other. Knowing this and actually following through proved to be two completely dissimilar concepts to him. He moved his mouth away from hers to leave small kisses along her jaw, until he reached her ear, where he suckled on her earlobe, winning himself another moan from her. He moved down to her neck, sucking, nipping, licking, and grazing his rough stubble across her smooth skin. Her hands had slid to his sides and she lifted his t-shirt enough for her to slide her hands under and run them over his strong, masculine upper body. He moved his fingers up to push the shoulder of her top aside slightly, and kissed the newly uncovered skin there. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him so that they were backed against the door. He came to his senses suddenly, and looked up at her.

Breathing heavily, he said in a low voice, "Are you sure?"

She looked at him for a moment, and then said softly, "Yes."

She kissed him tenderly, then he pulled her towards his bedroom. Only a small lamp and the moon's rays lit the otherwise dark room, as he wrapped his arms around her again, kissing her fervently. She tugged at the bottom of his shirt, and he lifted his arms so that she could pull it off. Tossing it across the room, she ran her hand down his firm, muscular chest and scraped her nails gently down his sides. He began to undo the first few buttons of her top, kissing her throat and upper chest as he went. She helped him remove the top, and he smiled a cheeky grin up at her when he saw the azure lacy bra she had on. He leant down nipping and licking the soft part of her breast that wasn't cover by the bra. She closed her eyes as his hands moved around to undo the clasp, letting the bra fall from her. He lowered his head to one nipple, swirling his tongue around it, and grazing his teeth against it gently. She threw her head back, groaning at the sensation of his mouth working its magic and his rough stubble rubbing against her. He moved to the other breast to give it a similar treatment, with much the same effect on her. He then pushed her backwards slightly until she was leaning against the bed. Taking the hint, she lay down and he got on top of her, careful to keep his weight off his right leg. He bent down, kissing and licking a trail down from the valley between her breasts towards her belly button, where he paused to dip his tongue inside, before continuing his path down to the edge of her pants. He looked up at her, silently asking permission with his bright blue eyes, and when she nodded, he began to undo the button and zipper of her dress pants. Giving her another smirk when he saw that she had matching panties on underneath, he pulled her pants gently down her legs. Picking up her right foot, he kissed her ankle and then began trailing kisses up her leg. When he reached the inside of her thigh she squirmed underneath him. Moving further until he reached her underwear, he pulled them down her legs and tossed them across the room to join his shirt and the rest of her clothing. She closed her eyes in anticipation as his head moved down to the area between her legs. She wriggled and thrust her hips upward to meet him as she felt his tongue softly tracing her hot folds. He continued his tender ministrations until he reached her entrance, circling the outside with the tip of his tongue before thrusting it in vigorously. Minutes later, she went rigid beneath him as her climax washed over her. When she recovered, she reached up and rolled him over onto his back and moved to unzip his pants. She looked up at him and saw that he looked slightly perturbed. Guessing what was bothering him, she immediately leant over and turned off the side lamp so that the room was fairly dark, save for the moonlight streaming in through the window. Shifting back again, she was surprised when he suddenly pulled her close and kissed her deeply.

She broke the kiss, breathing heavily. "Condoms?"

"Top drawer," he managed to say gruffly.

He quickly dispensed of his pants and boxers, before pulling her on top of him once again. Positioning himself at her entrance, he sought her eyes in the dark and didn't break his gaze as he slid into her. They each closed their eyes and they began to move rhythmically together, grinding together. He was so close to his release but he wanted her to come one last time before he did. He soon got his wish as Cameron began pumping harder against him, her head thrown back at the sensations flowing through her, breathing his name. Unable to hold on any longer, he exploded inside her, his head falling forwards to rest on her shoulder, where he grunted, "Allison".

Spent, they lay together breathing heavily. Cameron rolled over to the right side of the bed, assuming that House wasn't they type to 'snuggle', but was surprised to feel his strong arm sliding around her waist and pulling her so that they were spooned together under the covers. Grinning broadly at this, she was unaware that above her, House was grinning in much the same way.

TBC...

Author's Note: Please review!
By the way, I'm going on holiday for a week (WOO HOO!), so there may not be a new chapter up for a while.