Disclaimer: Shore and Fox own their asses.
VIII.
A large circular table in a dimly lit sport's bar. The faces of Chase, Foreman, Wilson, Cuddy, House and countless other doctors blurred through the dirty windows and against the streetlights. Cameron had been home to change. She'd thought about wearing something low and revealing in a vague attempt to make House want to fuck her again. But then she'd decided to be cool and calm and pretend that she could handle his refusal to meet her gaze.
She pulled her Bridget Bardot top a little further up over her shoulders and smoothed down her pencil skirt. Tonight she was bringing sexy back in a very understated way.
Her patent leather heels clicked on the sidewalk.
As she opened the heavy door she made a silent prayer to the ghosts of Marilyn Monroe and Grace Kelly that she could remain poised and controlled throughout the evening.
"Allison!" Wilson was the first to see her and he left the table and wove his way through the crowd to meet her.
He looked relaxed and happy and she could smell alcohol resting heavily on his breath.
"Happy birthday," She said and kissed him lightly on the side of his cheek, suddenly feeling a sense of camaraderie between them in their shared isolation from House.
Wilson studied her momentarily, his eyes travelling over the porcelain skin of her neck and shoulders.
His hand circled her waist and he led her to the table.
There was no time for the grand entrance she'd planned.
The circle of people smiled up at her and waved, mid-drinking game, and she began to feel a lot more relaxed.
Cuddy made a space for her and she stepped across Chase's knees and slid in beside her boss.
"You have some catching up to do!" Cuddy smiled at her warmly and nodded at some of the younger doctors who were now slumped over empty pitchers.
Cameron smiled back at Cuddy, taking in the sexy musk of her perfume and noting the way her hair curled perfectly down her back. She was wearing a low cut silk shirt in midnight blue and the sparkling bracelet on her wrist was made up of real sapphires.
Cameron didn't have to ask. She just knew it. She wished that she could be as strong and intoxicating as Cuddy.
She looked around the table. Her face coming to rest on his.
House wasn't doing the margarita thing. He was sat between two surgeons that she knew he hated. He looked completely uncomfortable. He rolled a glass of whisky on the rocks around before taking a long draw of it. As he did, his eyes met hers.
She wanted to convey something to him. Wanted him to know that she wasn't going to embarrass him. That there must be a better way of moving on than ignoring each other.
He got up. Stumbling around people and picking up his cane from the back of his chair.
He moved to the bar.
Cameron followed him and came to rest beside him.
Maybe she was too close. He moved away as he gave his order of another whisky to the barman.
"Hi." She said.
"Hi." He replied, examining the barstool between them.
"I just want you to know that I won't embarrass you."
House didn't reply. He slid onto the stool and surveyed the room. His eyes refusing to meet hers.
She looked at the gleaming bottles of spirits behind the bar – please don't do this to me - and continued to speak in a low voice: "I don't know who you think I am but I do know how to conduct myself. I'm not going to blurt out that we had sex in the middle of a differential."
He took his drink from the barman. She watched his fingers grip the cold glass. She shivered at the memory of them on her body.
There was something about his refusal to meet her gaze that hurt her. It cut her somewhere between her heart and her stomach but she would never let him know this. The ghost of Grace Kelly wouldn't allow it.
"Listen…" He began.
"You look amazing," Chase murmured, appearing next to her.
She smiled graciously, turning away from House, to address her colleague. Just like Grace would have done.
XXXShe followed Foreman and Chase across the underground parking lot. They were arm in arm, drunk, and singing as they jostled towards her car.
She paused beside a concrete post and dug in her bag to retrieve her car keys.
Suddenly she felt a presence beside her. She turned in the dark and caught a glimpse of his eyes. She shook her head quickly. Imaging things.
Shakily she dropped her keys on the ground.
As she bent down to retrieve them, the rubber stopper of a cane stamped down next to her hand.
She looked up at him and he brought a finger to his lips.
"Sssh!"
Even that sound echoed in the empty space.
House used his cane to press the sensor on her key ring and her car doors beeped and unlocked themselves. She heard Chase and Foreman get in and slam the doors shut.
She stood up, starting to feel annoyed. With him for showing up. With her for feeling the first tinglings of anger and desire and what ifs that began to slowly invade her thoughts.
Anger should win, she reasoned. He'd ignored her all day. Too little. Too late.
"What do you want?" She whispered.
He moved back to the other side of the post so that he was out of view of Foreman and Chase and she could only see his long legs stretched out in front of him.
"I thought now would be a good time…" He said quietly and controlled.
At first she didn't move. Then she slung her bag around her shoulder and shot him a look of disdain that he probably couldn't even see: "Now is not a good time."
She set one foot in front of the other preparing to walk away. To drive Foreman and Chase home. To settle back into her night-time routine of hot chocolate and sweet dreams.
She felt his hands grab her around the waist, pulling her back to him, hard. Her feet leaving the ground as he dragged her backwards.
She gasped. Tried to break free. It was a half-hearted attempt. Her skin was already starting to prickle and burn.
He held her like that for a second. Both hands clasped around her middle. His erection pressing into the small of her back. He was rough and insistent. His warm body enveloping hers. He ran his mouth along the exposed skin of her shoulder and then dug his teeth in a little and slowly sucked.
She wriggled out of his grasp and turned to face him. Her eyes wide. Shocked.
"What are you doing?" She nervously rubbed where his teeth marks had been and looked up into his face.
He looked as flustered as she felt and his breathing was ragged and loud.
She rearranged the neckline of her top as she whispered: "Chase and Foreman are just over there. They're in my car. Waiting for me to take them home."
He looked down, sulkily. "Come home with me."
It was exactly what she'd said to him the previous night. But so much had happened since then.
"What?" She said, trying to control her voice to a whisper. "After being ignored all day? Not talking to me? Not even acknowledging my presence?"
She stepped away from him:
"I mean, is that your idea of foreplay?"
He smirked. She hated it when he did that. Like he knew all her secrets.
He shook his head and grabbed her arm:
"No. This is my idea of foreplay."
He pushed her back against the cold post and stumbled down to his knees. He hitched her skirt up, running his hands along the insides of her trembling thighs and pulling hard at her pantyhose until she heard a rip.
She bit her lip. She could taste blood.
She raised her hands in protest, but it was too late.
He dragged her pantyhose and lacy thong down to her knees and then breathed into the hotness of her, running his hands over the smattering of hair between her legs and then pulling her lips apart roughly and tentatively flicking his tongue over her clit.
Her hands moved to his head, desperately needing to push him away. Desperately needing him.
Her fingers caught up in his hair – he gasped at this and the licking and sucking and nibbling became more intense – she rocked back against the cold concrete behind her, her head hitting the post, making her dizzy and confused.
His tongue moved lower as he sucked her hard and then she felt long strokes around her entrance and he was in her.
She closed her eyes, wondering how much more she could take. She no longer cared that Foreman and Chase were just metres away in the car, House consumed her and it felt like the biggest trip of her life.
She rocked on her heels as he moved his hands around to span her ass.
His tongue slickly circling and then driving into her entrance. Again and again until she could feel sharp warm spasms building up in her abdominal muscles and travelling down right to her centre.
Ah, God. Please. That's right. Just there. You're so fucking good. You're so fucking good. I'm gonna come. Please, Greg, I'm gonna come. Greg.
"Greg…" She whimpered, her voice high and strangled. She fell forward as wave upon wave of orgasm hit her.
"Uh huh?" The vibration of his response sent her pulse sky high and she convulsed.
He held her in place and felt her muscles constrict around his tongue.
Something inside her exploded and she fell back against the post. Gasping, sweating, hazily stuck in the moment of utter fulfilment.
His fingers deftly pulled her clothing back up her legs, his hands taking a moment to span out across her shaky thighs before he reached up and grabbed her wrist so that he could stand.
She stared at him. His mouth wet and his lips full and red.
He cocked his head examining her face caught in a snap shot of after glow.
She wanted to reach for him. Wanted to return the favour but even though she was still trembling, sights and sounds of where they were standing were coming back to her.
"Next time…" She began.
His eyes flicked to her mouth: "You're bleeding."
He ran a finger along her lip and held it up to her.
It was too dark to see but she took the opportunity to grasp his hand, her small fingers tangling with his own.
"Next time, Greg –" She was still testing his name. Seeing how it fit, her voice shaken: "I get to scream."
He nodded and stepped away from her back into the shadows.
She knew that she looked like she'd been completely ravished but she was reluctant to straighten herself out. She wanted to leave him on her lips, her shoulder, her clit.
Besides, Foreman and Chase had already fallen asleep in the back of the car by the time she opened the driver's side.