Disclaimer: I don't own House!
A/N: It's true, I love your reviews. I'm also still looking for a beta, if anyone's interested… Things are still heating up between our favorite couple, but it's never that easy, is it?
CHAPTER 9
"House?" Wilson asked. For the past few minutes, the two had stood in complete silence. Ever since Cameron fled the scene, House had been staring into the mirror. "Uh, did I interrupt something?"
"What do you think?" House asked. He tried to insert some light-hearted mockery into his tone, but the only thing that came across was his frustration. Both men knew that that was the closest that House would ever be to saying yes. Wilson sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He shook his head, not knowing what to say.
What do I wish someone had said to me when I had…you know? Wilson thought. Don't be stupid? Stay with your wife? The situation seems complicated: House is an ass, but he isn't exactly a cheating ass. Cameron is a moral and loyal person, and moral and loyal people don't just cheat on their husbands for no reason. That meant… Wilson's eyes widened. Okay, so he knew Cameron's side of the story, if somewhat vaguely. Scratch that last part. He'd seen what a jerk her husband could be. But House's side of the story?
"House? You like her, don't you." It wasn't a question. House didn't dare reply, and instead only brought his fist softly down on the sink again. "You don't just desire her, you actually like her."
"Of course I don't, Wilson." House brought his fist down a little harder this time. "That'd be pretty stupid, wouldn't it?" His fist hit the sink again with a loud thud. "I mean, look at the jerk that she married; can't say I approve much of her taste in men. Besides, I'm married, right?" He raised his fist and looked prepared to bring it down violently, but then he grabbed hold of himself and slowly brought his hand to his side. Wilson watched as House lowered his gaze to the floor.
"You know, House, it wouldn't necessarily be stupid, just unbelievably complicated." House smiled bitterly in response. "Because you are married, you know. One way or another, you're going to have to deal with that." With that parting shot, Wilson returned to the dining room. He knew House would spend a while chewing that over, and if he decided he wanted to talk, Wilson would be ready. Maybe.
"Big trouble," Wilson mumbled to himself. "Huge, enormous, astronomically-large trouble."
Cameron ran back to the dining room, but took a moment to wipe her cheeks one last time before she went in. Stacy, Will, and Cuddy all looked up at the same time. Cameron avoided looking at Stacy at all costs. She wasn't quite ready for that; she wasn't sure she'd ever be ready for that.
"Allison, did you see Greg?" Stacy asked.
"I think I saw him go into the bathroom a while ago. Maybe he and Wilson were having some special guy time," Cameron replied, talking mostly to her cold roast. Both Stacy and Cuddy chuckled. Will turned to Cameron and asked her under his breath,
"Are you all right? It wasn't very polite to leave so abruptly." Cameron clutched her knife and fork, desperately resisting the urge to stab him.
"I'm fine. I just remembered that I had to make a phone call, and it really couldn't wait," she explained. Will nodded, though still appeared unconvinced. He glanced at Cuddy and Stacy, clearly to make sure that they were chatting and not listening, and said,
"Your boss is a real prick."
"No, he's not. In fact, I would say that tonight you were the prick." Will was stunned into silence. When he recovered himself, he replied coldly,
"Allison, we shall not have this discussion here. We'll wait until we get home to continue this." With that condescending remark, he turned to Cuddy and Stacy and struck up a conversation.
Home… Cameron thought. It doesn't feel like home with him. Home, House… She shook her head, trying will away any thoughts of her boss. Her married boss. Will wasn't always like this. What happened? Where did it go wrong? She frowned. At what point am I finally going to accept that this is over? Suddenly she felt her chest growing tight, and took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm herself down.
At that moment, however, Wilson returned, with House only a few steps behind him. The second that House was in the room, Cameron felt her breath catch in her throat and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. She couldn't help herself; she had to look at him. He caught her staring at him, and she saw his features soften ever so slightly. He sat down, still holding the eye contact. Cameron's grip on her knife relaxed, and she completely forgot about her food. As far as they were both concerned, there was no one in the room except each other.
"Greg, honey?" Stacy placed a hand on House's arm, drawing him out of his reverie. She shot Cameron a confused look.
"What?" he asked.
"Lisa was just telling me about this great Chinese restaurant she found. I was thinking we should go tomorrow and get some take-out. How does that sound?" Her hand never left House's arm. When Cameron caught Stacy sending her a look, Cameron knew that it was a blatant marking of territory. Oh, why did she mention Chinese? Cameron lamented. The dumpling, the god damned dumpling.
"Lisa?" Cameron asked, her voice shaking audibly. "This dinner was so delicious, I really appreciate you cooking for us. I was wondering if I could do some dishes for you as a bit of a thank you." Cuddy looked pointedly at Cameron's abandoned roast, but when she saw the pleading in her eyes, she nodded.
"You certainly don't have to, Allison, but of course I would appreciate it. No one likes doing dishes," Cuddy said, trying to lighten the mood. It had easily been the most awkward dinner party she had ever thrown.
"Great!" Cameron exclaimed, immediately standing up and grabbing her plate. She took Will's and Wilson's plates as well, for good measure.
The kitchen and the dining room were separated by a swinging door, which Cameron opened with her hip. When it finally closed, she started to clean plates, hoping to get her mind off of things.
House watched Cameron go, trying to ignore the disappointment he felt. Stacy's hand had still not left his arm, and he did not want to handle that right now. So, he did what any doctor would do in an awkward situation.
He faked a page.
Reaching for his pager rather dramatically, House yelled a loud, "Damn!" and pretended to look at the message. "It's Chase," he explained. "He's monitoring our patient tonight, and probably just needs to tell me something completely useless. I'll be right back." House stood up, pretending to reach for his cell phone. But he didn't go to the living room, or the hall; he went to the kitchen.
Cameron's head whipped around when she heard the door open, and she was surprised to see House standing there. She put the dishes down and turned off the water in the sink, then tried to shake some water off of her hands. He was staring at her again, as intensely as he did in the bathroom.
"House, wha…" The moment the kitchen door stopped swinging, House launched forward. He forced her up against the counter, placing his hands on either side of her body. Exactly where they left off. But this time, there was no hesitation.
He kissed her roughly, his beard scratching her chin and cheeks. Cameron was so shocked that for a moment she didn't respond, but then she opened her mouth slightly, which was all the invitation House needed. She heard a possessive growl come from the back of his throat, and then he drew her closer, melding her body against his. He was so caught up in the moment, that when he ground his hips against hers he did so with such force that he pushed her hard against the counter. Cameron whimpered as the pain shot up her back. But even that turned quickly to pleasure as he roughly drew up her blouse to finally touch her soft skin. At that first skin-to-skin contact, their exploration grew more frenzied. Her still-wet hands wandered over his chest, until she finally brought them to the back of his neck, drawing him closer to her. Their teeth crashed together as House's hand lightly grazed the underside of her breast.
Then, in a flash, it was over. A fraction of a second before the kitchen door swung open, House jumped away from Cameron.
"Chase was thinking it could be neurological, which only proves just how dumb he is. I decided to entertain him, though, and told him to run a few tests," House said, acting as if nothing had ever happened. Cameron, breath still ragged, turned to see who had come in.
It was Will. She knew she should feel guilty, having nearly been caught kissing her married boss by her own husband, but she was just angry that he interrupted.
"These are the rest of the plates," he said, handing Cameron the plates. Without another word, he turned around and left. She wondered briefly if he knew what had just happened, but of course he didn't. Both Cameron and House watched the door as Cameron tried to blindly place the dishes in the sink. The moment the door closed, their bodies slammed together, irresistibly drawn to the other.
This time, however, it was Cameron who pushed House up against the counter. He smiled against her lips.
"I like you like this," he said.
"Shut up."
Cameron was happy House had decided not to wear a button-down tonight, because she easily lifted his t-shirt and placed both hands lightly against his waist. Now the pace was slower; House took his time kissing her, his restraint driving her absolutely wild. His hand cupped her cheek as he reached underneath her blouse and put his hand against her back to press her closer to him. There was an unexpectedly intimate moment when House softly rubbed his thumb against her cheek. Cameron sighed contentedly.
Then he pushed her away. The door swung open just as House turned to face the counter.
"Of course I told him he was idiot!" They both glanced in the direction of the door, noticing Wilson standing with the plate of roast. He took in Cameron's flushed cheeks and ragged breathing, as well as the small patches of wetness on House's chest. Wilson was many things, but he wasn't an idiot.
"Am I going to be doing this often? Can you guys give me some warning?" Both Cameron and House had the decency to look sheepish. He nodded to House. "Your shirt is wet." House absently wiped his shirt. Again, Cameron was the first to flee the scene of the crime. "Will you at least help me with the dishes?" he asked House. House nodded, moving to the sink.
It was no surprise to anyone there that the guests began to leave as soon as dessert was finished. Will and Cameron were the first to leave, while House glowered at Will's hand placed possessively against Cameron's back. Stacy, becoming more and more frustrated as the night went on, tried her best to take a polite leave of Cuddy, but barely succeeded. She slammed the door behind her, not even waiting for House to follow her. House frowned and reached for the doorknob.
"House, you don't have a patient." It was Cuddy. Without turning around, House replied,
"I know." He heard Cuddy sigh.
"Stacy's my friend," she said. There was a slight pause. "So is Allison." House nodded and opened the door.
Cameron stayed absolutely silent for the entire car ride, her thoughts focused on her various encounters with House. Never in her life had she felt as alive as she had in those hurried moments. She would give anything to relive them.
But she couldn't. She sighed when she unlocked the door to apartment, Will following a step behind her.
"Allison," he started.
"Stop, I don't want to hear it."
"No, you're going to listen. I'm absolutely mortified that you behaved like that tonight."
"Like what, Will?" she spat out.
"Like a child, Allison. You stormed out of dinner not once but twice, and even tried to argue with me in front of our hostess, not to mention your boss' wife." He was even speaking to her as if he thought she was a child. Cameron finally reached her boiling point.
"And you want to know why I was so angry? Do you? Because I'm more than happy to tell you. I'm 'mortified' that you decided to share your misogynistic views with my friends, telling them that I would soon be quitting my job to become a full-time mother. Well, I'm telling you right now that I love my job and under no circumstances whatsoever am I going to give it up. I want children, Will, but this is the twenty first century. I can do both, and for that matter, so can you."
"Oh, and what are you going to do? Leave our kids in day care all day long, and have some babysitter pick them up when you have to spend all night with a patient? What then?" Despite the fact that Cameron's voice was continually rising in both pitch and volume, Will was calm, completely confident and self-righteous.
"How about you pick them up? How about you bring in some money? How about you pick up groceries, do the laundry, or pay the bills? How about that, Will?"
"I'm not going to talk to you about this right now, you're clearly not thinking straight," Will said, turning to walk to the bedroom. Cameron placed her body in front of him, stopping him with a hand on his chest.
"No, that's not how it works. You don't get to decide everything. I'm thinking perfectly straight, probably the straightest I've been thinking for a while. Because, honestly, if I had been thinking straight before, I would have kicked your sorry ass out a while ago."
"You don't mean that," Will scoffed.
"Yes, I do. I've done everything I could to make you happy, to support you. But you always want more, Will." Cameron's voice softened. "You want more and more, and you're never willing to give anything back. It's never about what I want, it's always about what you want. For a while, I thought that was okay; I thought that was how things worked. But not anymore, Will, and it never will be again. So, either things change or I'm done with this."
"With what?" For the first time, Will seemed uncertain.
"With us. I'm not putting up with this anymore." She stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. If Will even thought about sleeping in their bed tonight, she would… Cameron sat down on the bed, sighing. She didn't know what she would do, about that or anything else. Without undressing, she lay down on the bed. "House…" she whispered.
Stacy's jaw was clenched; that was never a good sign. But House certainly wasn't going to be the first one to speak.
"Greg, is there anything we need to talk about?" she asked. Her hands gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. House hesitated for a moment.
"No," he replied. Was there? he thought. A few stolen kisses don't necessarily mean anything.
"Well, you know that you can talk to me about anything, Greg. Anything." She placed special emphasis on the last word, giving him a pointed look.
"Not everything," he said. Stacy opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it closed. House sighed and placed his head against the cool glass, staring out the window at the passing lights.
"I just hope that if you were unhappy with me, or if there was something you think we should work on, you would let me know."
"Is it that simple, Stacy?" House sounded tired, even to his own ears. Stacy made a small noise, and a stealthy peek by House revealed that there were tears in her eyes. The guilt began to weigh heavily on his shoulders. He would give anything to be back in that kitchen with Cameron; he would give even more to be in that kitchen with Cameron with no one else in the house.
Cameron…
