A/N: An 'M' rated version of this story also exists, should you be interested in that sort of thing.
Do I Look Pleased?
By CausticChick, from the episode Clueless
Chapter 12
House rose from his desk in the late evening after a day of duckling wrangling and patient tormenting, the office darkened against the setting sun. Sure, his new black lacquered cane, with the flames blazing up from the base, was bitchin', but bitchin' couldn't take away his chronic pain. The mangled flesh and missing muscle that had left him crippled was a constant reminder of all the things he couldn't do. His whole body ached, an unfortunate side effect of the use of a cane, but nothing ached more than his right thigh.
At least that's what his mind was telling him. His heart, on the other hand, was a different matter.
The news of the job offer that would take Cameron away from this place, away from him, had taken him by surprise. He had told himself these past three years that the fluttering in his stomach as she entered the room, the sparks that flew between their bodies when they brushed against each other, and the pure lust that flooded his body when he imagined her spread out naked on his desk, meant nothing. He had denied her for so long that he had almost convinced himself that it was what he really wanted. But when presented with the possibility of not seeing her heavenly face on a daily basis, things were put into perspective. His feelings for her had been put into perspective.
He knew that no matter how he felt about her he had to let her go if she so chose. He couldn't bring himself to make her stay for his own selfish reasons, possibly jeopardizing her future for a relationship that would probably only last a few months anyway.
At least that's what he told himself to spare himself the pain of losing her.
He made his way from his desk to the yellow easy chair in the corner. House loved that chair, he'd had it for years. A gift to himself when he finished his fellowship in Infectious Diseases at Johns Hopkins. Hours of dozing in that particular spot had broken in the soft cushions, creating a rut that fit his lithe frame to perfection. And as he eased into his favorite chair and looked at the blank white board, which had been rolled into his private office that afternoon, an overwhelming sense of deja vu washed over him.
"We started chelation therapy with dimercaprol," Cameron had said quietly as she leaned casually on the door frame. He hadn't heard her enter and had been slightly startled by her soft voice coming from behind him. He could immediately smell her scent, fruity and fresh, and he breathed in deeply to take it all in.
"Thrilled to hear it," he replied.
"His kidney function hasn't improved."
"It will."
"He's going to need a lung transplant."
House couldn't resist. "He's becoming more attractive by the minute, isn't he?"
A small smile teased the corners of her lips. "You're pleased. You think you've proved every marriage is a mistake?"
"Do I look pleased?" He knew he hadn't really responded to her question, but instead of calling him on it she had pushed off from the door frame and stepped towards him, arms folded over her chest. When she had reached his side her right hand moved down to her waist, and House had suddenly grown nervous as she lifted the hem of her sweater, revealing a roll of twenties and a patch of bare skin. Pale, soft, itching to be stroked. His mouth grew dry at the sight, but he had managed to return his gaze to hers before she noticed.
She slid the money from the waistband of her gray tweed slacks and offered it to him, the evening light shining through the open blinds making her blue eyes sparkle. House put his hand out to retrieve his winnings, and when his long fingers grazed the tips of hers they both paused as a bolt of pure lightening shot through them. In what was probably only a couple of seconds, an eternity passed between the two doctors until Cameron finally retracted her fingers.
"Ignorance is bliss," she said, and after a lingering moment of locked gazes Cameron turned away and started towards the door, House watching her every move as he played with the worn bills in his hand.
Even now, House found himself pondering her statement. Had he been ignorant towards love and marriage? Had he been missing something all these years? Did Cameron know something he didn't? Everything he knew about marriage he had learned from his parents, whose turbulent union had spawned him (not a point in marriage's favor, he thought), and Wilson's three failed attempts at matrimonial bliss. How could anybody look at the statistics and not believe that long-term love was a crock of shit?
But when he had looked at Cameron's face that night, after the wife of his patient had been arrested for poisoning her husband, he saw that she still believed. Even after he had been proved right by their bet that the couple was as miserable as everybody else, she still thought that two people could find love and be happy.
He desperately wanted to believe her, to get sucked into her brand of thinking and be with her until they were both sick of each other. He could have grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving that night. He should have. He had run over the scenario in his head countless times. He closed his eyes.
"Stop," he said, so quietly it was almost dangerous. Cameron tensed at the sensation of his strong fingers wrapped around her slender wrist. She was trembling with nerves; not knowing what House was thinking was terrifying. Without breaking contact, House used his cane to push himself up into a standing position, towering over her with flames in his eyes. She breathed in through slightly parted lips and when his gaze dropped to her mouth she flushed scarlet.
House dropped his cane and encircled her waist with both hands, pulling her closer. She emitted a barely audible gasp as her hips came in contact with his. His mounting arousal was evident, straining between their two bodies as he looked at her through hooded eyes. She tried to speak, to object half-heartedly, but her mouth was as dry as the Serengeti. When she didn't make a sound, House lowered his lips to her ear.
"Ignorance isn't bliss. You are."
She shuddered in his embrace and he imagined her eyes dropping closed as his breath swept past her sensitive skin. Her arms, that were hanging loosely at her sides, rose to grasp his arms in her hands to try and steady herself. They stood in that intimate embrace for several minutes, each feeling the other's pulse slow to a similar rhythm as they reveled in each other cheek to cheek.
House pulled back and looked into her eyes, his hand leaving her waist to brush a strand of hair from her eyes. She smiled at him and he smiled back as he lowered his lips to hers, barely touching. When she sighed and closed her eyes once more he deepened the kiss, running the tip of his tongue across her swollen bottom lip until she opened to him, and he took advantage and delved inside. She reciprocated, tongues battling and pushing back and forth. Hands started to move, House's right reaching around the back of her neck and pushing her impossibly closer, and Cameron's roving the broad expanse of his back.
They pulled apart, breathing heavily, chests heaving with the exertion of their kiss. Cameron rested her forehead against his chest and House rested his chin on the top of her head and gathered her close. "You're pleased," he said, feeling her resulting smile against his tee-shirt.
"Do I look pleased?" she asked, raising her head up to face him.
"Actually, you look more than pleased."
"So do you. Who'd have thought?" She smiled up at him, a sweet, seductive smile that made him want to do countless things to her, right there, right then. She seemed to read his mind and her gaze grew mischievous. "Not here."
He nodded curtly and stepped back. She retrieved his cane from were it was discarded on the carpet and handed it to him. They left the office, not holding hands, not showing any affection, not wanting to arouse suspicion from their colleagues who roamed the hallway. They stepped into the elevator and took it to the lobby, each setting their sights on the front doors of the hospital as they made their way towards them.
They entered House's apartment after a painstaking thrill ride on his motorcycle, each rider exhilarated by the speed and the rush of the wind. It made House even more excited, having Cameron pressed up against his back. He could barely contain himself as he fumbled with the keys, grabbed her hand, and pulled her all the way to the bedroom.
House cupped Cameron's face in his hands, her alabaster skin smooth against his rough palms. Leaving his left hand on her right cheek, he let his right hand trail down her neck and across her shoulders, continuing down to her breast. She sucked in a breath at the contact with her taut nipple, and anxiously anticipated the second he would touch her there without her sweater as a barrier. He lingered there for a moment, thumbing the bud, drawing out every whimper and moan that slipped past her parted lips, before moving to her waist and the hem of her sweater. His gaze never left hers, his thumb brushing her cheek, making an already intense moment even more excruciating.
He toyed with the soft green knit of her sweater, breaking the gaze and looking down at the floor. Cameron placed her hand on his arm and rubbed gently, coaxing his eyes back to hers. Hers were pleading and worried, and House immediately felt the need to explain.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I can't believe I waited this long."
"Neither can I."
House smiled. He couldn't not. She was just too... "You're beautiful."
She stroked his cheek as he did hers, then raised herself up on her tip toes to press her lips to his, and House dove right in. There was no point in waiting.
He managed to lift her sweater off over her head and toss it away, not caring where it landed, then quickly undressed and sank to the bed in each other's arms. House kissed a trail down her neck, following the path his hand had followed minutes before, continuing past her hips to the silky patch of hair nestled between her legs. When he touched his tongue to her sensitive nub she bucked beneath him. He smiled against her. She was glorious.
He continued his ministrations, licking and sucking and stroking until she reached down and touched his shoulder. When he looked up and saw the unadulterated pleasure on her face it was all he could do to not come on the spot. "House," she breathed. "I need you now." He obliged and joined her, kissing her mouth fiercely as he pushed inside. She screamed out.
"House."
His eyes sprang open and he looked around wildly, finally focusing on Wilson standing in the doorway of his office. He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, silently cursing is friend for interrupting his thoughts of Cameron. "What?"
"You ready to go?" asked Wilson, a look of concerned confusion on his boyish face.
"Not yet. Give me a minute."
"We've got reservations in twenty minutes," said Wilson, glancing impatiently at his wrist watch. "What are you doing that's so important?" House closed his eyes and rested his head against the soft yellow corduroy of the chair. He breathed deeply for a couple of seconds, the last remnants of his fantasy drifting away into the recesses of his mind. Wilson put his hands on his hips. "Are you okay?"
"For God's sake, Wilson. Will you stop asking me if I'm okay?" House replied, using his cane to help him stand. "I'm fine," he insisted. He grabbed his jacket and headed to the door, but Wilson stayed standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips, blocking House's exit.
"Were you thinking about Cameron's job offer?" asked Wilson gently.
"No."
Wilson ignored his answer. "You know, if you talk to her, you could probably convince her to stay."
"I don't want her to stay. It's a great opportunity for her." The statement was by no means the truth, but Wilson didn't need to know that. House tried to step around the oncologist, who sidestepped to prevent his friend from leaving the office, thereby preventing the diagnostician from avoiding the situation. "Get out of my way."
"No. Talk to her, House."
"Fine," House replied exasperatedly. "Only if you'll stop bugging me."
Wilson stepped out into the hallway and House followed him towards the elevator. The last thing he was going to do was talk to Cameron about this, no matter what he promised Wilson. She would choose to leave and she'd be terribly successful, and he would stay here and do the same.
A/N: Thanks for reading, everybody! Check out my other stories here on Just
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Thanks!
CeeCee
