Disclaimer: the author does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Author's Note: Thank you as ever for reading my story and leaving comments, which are a thrill beyond compare. For example, if KateJ hadn't said over and over this story should never end, it definitely would have by now.
25
Wilson entered and pulled up a chair at the foot of the bed. "What are you doing in here?"
House looked from the TV, to the Doritos bag, to Stan, as if it should all be perfectly obvious. "No one understands us, Stan."
"This might be the wrong day to be messing around in the coma wing. Cuddy came to see me yesterday."
House popped another chip nonchalantly. "I was legitimately sick. I have a doctor's note."
"That's exactly what I mean. Cuddy's not an idiot. You've been…different lately, Cameron taking a personal day…"
"It was completely professional. No Robitussin body shots."
Wilson shook his head. "She knows."
"Hmm." House extended the bag to Stan, then shrugged. "No? More for me. How did she take it?"
"She seemed concerned."
"Concerned I can manage." He tossed a chip into the air and caught it agilely in his mouth. "Thanks for the heads up."
"So how are things with Cameron? If you're still together, you must not have read the journal." House's expressive face momentarily betrayed him. "You did! You asshole."
"I think she intends for me to read it."
"What the fuck gave you that idea?" House didn't reply, and Wilson shook his head in disgust. "You want to get caught. So she can hate you and you can get out of this, or better yet, so you can be sure she'll always be around no matter how bad you fuck things up."
"You should be on TV. You're prettier than Dr. Phil, but just as pedantic."
"There's no helping you."
House smiled. "Don't be sore, have a chip." He extended the bag, and Wilson took one gingerly. "I'm not going to fuck this up. I know what I'm doing."
Wilson snorted.
House raised an eyebrow. "You don't believe me?"
"You already have fucked this up, and you have no clue what you're doing."
House tipped the near empty bag to his mouth to collect the crumbs, chomped noisily. "I'll tell you what. If Cameron leaves me, you can marry her, show me how it's done."
"Don't think I won't." House gave Wilson a dangerous look. "Oh, you've got it bad. You love her!"
House ran a weary hand over his face. "Yeah," he admitted.
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When Cuddy found her, Cameron was preparing slides in the lab. She asked, "How did it go yesterday?"
"Hmm?" Cameron thought her best chance was to volunteer as little as possible.
"House call." Cameron met her eyes; there was no point trying to be deceptive now. "He's not an easy patient," Cuddy continued.
"He didn't give me any trouble," Cameron answered steadily.
"Didn't he? I guess I'm looking for some reassurance that this isn't some short-lived fling."
She looked aside. "I can't speak for House—"
Cuddy shook her head. "If I was worried about House, I'd be talking to him. Addicts don't break up with their drug."
Cameron's eyes widened at this. "I'm um—it's not a fling."
"Then we don't have a problem. Just keep it out of the hospital, right?"
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Late that evening, House found Cameron at her desk. "Where have you been all day?"
She laughed. "Working. I work here."
"Exactly, come on. We need to go to the MRI lab." House turned and walked determinedly out of the room, and she put away her work and scrambled after him, meeting him in the elevator.
"We don't have a patient," she said as he pushed the appropriate button with his cane.
"Shh." He cocked his head to indicate the other passenger in the elevator—a janitor. The elevator opened on their floor. House took her hand in his and pulled her out of the elevator, toward the control room door. He locked it behind them.
"What are we doing in the MRI lab with no patient?" she asked.
House sat down. "It's more romantic if it's just the two of us. Come sit on my lap." He started to unfasten his belt.
Cameron leaned against the control desk. Skeptically, she watched him open his pants. "Cuddy said to keep it out of the hospital."
"You talked to Cuddy?" He rolled the chair over to her and caressed her inner thigh. Cameron didn't answer, merely stared at the point where her skirt ended and his arm began. "What did she say?"
"Not to leave you."
"Okay," he said as he grasped the crotch of her panties and pulled them down. "So don't leave me—unsatisfied in the MRI lab." He slipped his thumb into her, then pressed it to her clit in slippery circles.
Her eyes closed and her breath caught; he always got his way. "That's not what she meant." But she kicked her panties off one ankle so she could spread her legs to stand over his lap. She licked her hand, gripped his cock in her hand and pumped a few times, causing him to groan, to reach for her hips and roughly pull her closer as she guided him inside her. They locked eyes.
Cameron reached down and pulled the lever of the chair, causing it to suddenly drop them nearer the floor, so she her feet could touch. At the jar to his thigh House sucked in a deep breathe through gritted teeth, but they both studiously ignored this. Cameron bounced on his lap, grinding to rub her clit against him with each thrust; his hands clutching her skirt at her hips.
"Have you pictured us in here before," House breathed.
Cameron moaned, "Mhmm," and moved faster, lifting off him less far and pressing herself harder against him.
His hand rose to the back of her neck and he crushed her mouth to his for a penetrating kiss. He asked, "Like this?"
Cameron gasped, she was so close and she found his request for details extremely erotic. She shook her head and tried to answer, but all she got out was, "The other way…hands…"
House shoved her off his lap and spun her so fast she hardly had time to register disappointment at the lack of contact before he pulled her back down. "Like this," he whispered behind her ear as he worked the pads of his fingers between her legs.
"Oh, fuck!" she said as she doubled forward, spasming around him. He pushed her the rest of the way forward to lean against the desk as he rose to ram into her, managing only ten more strokes before sighing, "Cameron," as he came, then fell back into the chair heavily.
Cameron was grinning when she turned to face him, smoothing her skirt. She bent to pick up the skimpy piece of blue satin. House watched her, she was clearly uncertain what to do with them. When he had finished straightening his clothes he took them from her and stuffed them in his jeans pocket. "We need to stop off and get you some clean clothes on the way," he said.
As then walked out of the lab House again took her hand, and she congratulated herself on the fact that their spending the rest of the evening together was as much a forgone conclusion in his mind as it was in hers.