Title: Lust
Rating: Oh, I don't
know, there's some sex.
It wasn't a gradual thing. It hit her like a train. Or possibly an anvil. House had screwed up again, not surprisingly, and it was her screaming at him in Cuddy's office, while the hospital administrator tried without success to get a word in.
"Okay, okay. House, go and sort this out. We don't need another law suit this month."
Cameron huffed, exhaling loudly, and looked at Cuddy.
She was looking at a file on her desk, obviously thinking that the younger doctor had gone with House.
Cameron noticed she looked tired. And also annoyed. And perhaps bored. Cuddy often looked a mixture of things at once. She also looked pretty, in the light streaming in from the windows, though Cameron had never actually thought of Cuddy in any way other than as a boss.
Or a boss' boss.
But the more she took in her features, her sharp jaw, her unique eyes framed by dark lashes, the more she wondered why Cuddy wasn't seeing anyone. She was certainly attractive. Then the other woman looked up as if only just realizing Cameron was there.
"Can I help you with something other than your misanthropic boss?"
"Oh, no. I just, um, spaced out for a second. I'll go and make sure he doesn't screw this up," she managed to ramble, her face going red. She turned and left, knowing Cuddy's eyes were on her as she walked out the door.
Cuddy was in her head for the rest of the day. Even when she was in the shower at home that night.
That's when she was hit by the train, or the anvil, or whatever other metaphorical object she'd thought of.
Attraction was often hard to define.
Not in this case.
From out of the blue, thin air, nowhere, in perfect clarity.
Lust.
She wanted to know what Cuddy felt like beneath her fingers. What she tasted like.
Cameron liked getting what she wanted.
She envisioned perhaps Cuddy's office after everyone else had gone home, sweeping a hand blindly behind her to clear anything off the desk, before pulling Cameron roughly on top of her, fingers undoing buttons and sliding over soft skin. Doctor's hands, she'd think, before she couldn't form proper thoughts anymore, Cameron pulling her shirt off her arms and her skirt off her legs with the dexterity of someone with more experience than she let on.
Then her tongue would travel up the middle of Cuddy's stomach, hands pinning her arms in place as she wriggled with the slow torture.
She would instinctively know where to go, how to make her moan and curl her fingers in Cameron's hair.
She'd know how to make her call her name when her tongue brushed just the right spot inside her and she'd then shudder, her walls tightening and her eyes squeezed shut.
Cameron had to prop herself against the shower wall, fingers splayed against the white tile.
She wanted to know.
But how to ask?