The hospital was eerie at Christmas. Visiting, working, sick and dying people, all trying to find a little holiday cheer amongst the reality of the human condition. Cameron always felt for the sick and the dying. House despised them all.
The ER was overflowing with fender benders and a baffling array of injured children. This was the first time she'd been looking forward to Christmas in years. Too many years. She'd volunteered to work last year. Sitting at home, drinking wine and reading, might as well be any other day. This year, she was looking forward to the time off. They had three whole days. Cuddy had been only too happy to get rid of House for the holidays. Kicking the Grinch out of the hospital would bring relief to everybody else who had to work. Besides which, Cameron had kept the ER running with barely a hiccup for over a year, so she deserved it, even if he didn't.
This made the final few minutes up to six especially agonising. She decided to hide in her office, paperwork keeping her busy. The clock was against her, each chart taking ten minutes to check off, then five, then two, time paused as she worked. 5:52PM. She gave up, dialling his pager, hanging up before the automated message could start to play.
"Is it true? Can we finally get out of this festive hell-hole?" She looks up, then smiles at him, his eyes peering around the edge of her door.
"Have you been sitting outside waiting? You could have probably convinced me to go earlier."
"Perhaps. But then I would have lost my bet with Wilson."
Rolling her eyes, she glides over to him, flicking the lights off and kissing him before stepping out into the hallway. Checking the door, she slips her hand into his as they walk.
That was the best thing about the gossip getting around so quickly. It was never going to stay a secret for long, nor did either of them want it to be, but it still felt refreshing not to have to hide. Foreman and Wilson insisted on teasing her, despite House's threats, but everybody else left them alone.
She was humming, finger tips rubbing the back of his hand. He nudged her, prompting a vacant stare.
"Are we spending Christmas in the car park?"
"Sorry, I was day dreaming." Locks pop and they slip into the plush interior of her sedan.
"Do you need anything from your place?"
"Do you want me wearing the same clothes for three days?"
Grinning teeth at him, she licks her lips, "Who said I want you wearing clothes?"
"Looks nice." The decorations are tasteful, subdued and unexpected. She must have done them last night. Hanging up his coat, he heads into the lounge, turning up the thermostat and slipping down onto the couch. Doing no work is exhausting.
"Whisky?" He nods, watching her half-fill a tumbler, taking a sip herself before passing it to him. It's strong, single-grain scotch, old too.
"Do you like it?"
Another nod, eyes shut, "Perfect." He feels her sit, arm noosing her close.
"Good." She takes another sip, comfortable silence covering them like a blanket. The pleasing sensation that words are extraneous to what is already being said. The warmth of the whisky and her against his side is enough to put him to sleep. Draining the glass, the finish rich burning in his mouth, he turns, looking at her sleepy form.
"Want to eat?" She shakes her head against him.
"No, too tired."
"See, this is why you should come back and work for me."
"If I came back to work for you, I'd open the mail. Then you would be very busy."
"You're right. What was I thinking. Besides, you're adorable when you're tired."
Her eyes open into thin slits, peering suspiciously at him.
"Don't look at me like that or I'll never compliment you again." She smiles, patting his chest and pushing herself to her feet.
"Come on. Bed."
He stands, leaning lightly on his cane and taking a vicodin before following her. Undressing quickly, they tumble into bed, his nose in her still fragrant hair.
The sheets were cool, she had been absent at least 30 minutes. He found that frustrating, possibly the most frustrating thing about her, outside of the hospital. He quietened his breathing, listening, silence echoed through the apartment.
Clambering out of bed, he confirmed his suspicion. She had left him alone. A note taped to the coffee machine said she had errands to run. He frowned at the note, blaming it entirely for her absence, squeezing the life out of it with his fingers and tossing it aside.
It was nearly midday when she returned, giving him plenty of time to shower and snoop around her apartment. The door was barely shut behind her before he was on her, one arm around the waist of her thick coat, the other in her hair, lips pressing together violently. She almost collapses under his onslaught.
"Did you miss me?" Her skin is cool and pale, but her smile is warm enough for both of them. He nods.
"Good. Now, if you'll just let go of me." Slipping from his embrace she extracts herself from boots and coat, opening one of the bags and offering up to him a sandwich, hoping to placate his inner animal.
"Apology accepted." He snatches his lunch away from her, hobbling through into the lounge and flopping down on the couch to eat.
Talking to herself loudly, she follows him, "Thank you Allison, however did you know that I would be hungry, having only just got out of bed a few minutes ago."
"Hey, I showered! I'm clean!"
She rolls her eyes at him, "I'm so proud." Stealing a bite of his sandwich, she starts in on her salad which he eyes with disapproval. His hands move quickly, taking it from her, pushing his sandwich in her direction.
"Hey, I was eating that!" Her frown is the mirror of his.
"Next time just buy two sandwiches." She scowls a little, holding the overweight congregation of beef, cheese, tomato, lettuce and whatever else they put in these things to make them taste so stupidly good. His needling about her weight was always irritating, she didn't purposely not eat, it just happened. At the same time, it made her smile, all jokes and selfishness aside, it was proof, solid evidence, of how much he cared. And the sandwich was very good, much better than the salad which he was torturing mercilessly with its plastic fork.
His interest in the rabbit food waned, depositing it on the coffee table and hugging her to him. She smiled, leaning against him, remnants of sandwich discarded.
"So," she looked up at him as he spoke, "What did you get me for Christmas?"
"I'm not telling you! It's a surprise."
He pouts, "Meanie."
"You're such a child."
"You're such a padeophile." She gasps, elbowing him in the gut.
"Help! I'm being abused!" Her hand clamps over his mouth, body turning and pressing all her weight onto him.
"Shut up House! Somebody will hear you!" She freezes, feeling his hand on her butt, "What do you think you're doing?"
His eyes look pityingly at her as his fingers slide down the back of her jeans, "I know surgeons who would be only too happy to cut that hand off you." Eyes sparkle back at her, pushing and daring her. He kisses the palm of her hand, pulling her sideways into his lap. Arms slip around his neck as they kiss. All is forgiven.
"I thought you liked my fingers?"
She smiles, patting at him, "Shush." When he moves to snark back at her, she kisses, "I said shush." He makes a face at her, pushing her off his lap as he fetches a drink.
"Is Wilson coming for Christmas dinner?" She follows him into the kitchen.
"He didn't say."
"You should ask."
He nods, smiling a little as she slips her arms under his, squeezing him in a tight hug.
"Do you want me to come?" Wilson's voice sounded sceptical.
"Sure, why not. I probably owe you a meal."
"And Allison doesn't mind?"
House rubbed his eyes, "Since she told me to call you, yes, it's probably ok with her."
Wilson's smile was audible, "Ok. Should I bring something?"
"I believe gold, frankincense and myrrh are traditional."
"She's pregnant already? You move fast."
"Oh you're good. You should do stand-up. See you tomorrow." House hung up quickly. He was losing his edge. You should do stand-up? Weak. The phone rang in his hand.
"Cameron, phone." He held it up in the air, watching her running in from the kitchen to frown at him.
"You could answer it yourself you know. Give it here!" Jumping, she manages to snatch it from his hand, answering quickly.
"Hello," she rolled her eyes up at House, "Hello Wilson, yes, he's right here. Oh, of course he didn't tell you the address that would be far too helpful."
"You have done all your shopping, right?"
He nods.
"So we don't have to go out tonight? Because if we do, we should go now."
"Buying a gift for Wilson is terribly hard. But I did manage to find him something."
She eyes him, "Just Wilson."
His stare is level, "Who else would I be buying for."
The corners of her lips turn up just slightly, "You're such a bastard."
Nodding, he pulls her close, "And you love me."
She nods, "And I love you."
Fingers peel up her shirt, "Good. Because I have rather a fondness for you as well." She wants to hit him every single time he avoids saying it. The feeling burns through her blood, radiating from her eyes. She shoves him backwards, a gasp of pain as he falls onto the bed, eyes wide.
Falling upon him, she crawls up, kissing him hard, "Say you love me."
Subtle sneer, "If I don't say it, does it make it less true?"
Sitting astride him, grinding slowly, "I want to hear you say it. Don't make me force you." He watches her bra unhook slowly, thin material falling away from her, her hips driving him mad.
"Say it." Her purr is audible as his hardness grows.
"No."
She slides both hands down her body, fingers teasing open her jeans and pushing the zipper down as far as it will go, exposing black panties.
"Just say it House."
He shakes his head obstinately, watching her slip off him, jeans falling, followed by her underwear. Her fingers roughly strip him, nails running down the underside of his cock teasingly. Arching, he groans softly, watching her move ontop of him. Hands on her hips, feeling her skin pressing.
"Cameron." His voice pleads and she crawls down on top of him, kissing and whimpering as he hilts himself deep within her. Lips on his neck, her fingers laced into his hair, sharp breaths ripping past his ear as she rubs against him. Inconsequential sounds of lust pass between them, her kisses soft and teasing, his rough and needy. His fingers dig into her hips as she moves atop him.
"Say it." She begins to chant in his ear, hips rolling and grinding against him, feeling him losing control, biting the lobe of his ear and purring as his back arches.
"Come in me, House." Her voice is too much, he's lost, swimming, clinging to her as she drains the need from his body, leaving them both panting, satiated.
Smiling down at him she slips away, tucking herself into bed. Forcing himself up, he moves after her, spooning against her back and kissing an exposed shoulder.
"I love you."
She nods a little, pulling his arms around her, "I love you too."
Author's Note: Thanks to everybody who has read and/or reviewed this tale. Enjoy the holidays!