A/N: Thanks for the reviews they are really encouraging so I wrote some more.
It's been a long day. A few days have passed since the "incident" at the bar. You begin to think that you'll live your life through inappropriate incidents with your doe eyed immunologist.
Her taste still clings to your mouth, muted only by beer and the tic tac Chase had been offering her. It's cute how she tries to act as if nothing happened. She continues to go through your mail and slides your coffee cup in front of you.
You chuckle over how hard she's trying.
Wilson comes by your office while you're lost in thought. He sits down and carefully unwraps his sandwich and brings it to his nose. He takes a sniff and slides the offending subject towards you.
Egg salad, he exclaims and you enthusiastically dig in. He explains that Julie made it for him in an attempt to be a "sweeter wife." She's trying to save what's left of their marriage. You laugh that she's trying to work at their relationship except she doesn't know the he hates egg salad.
Wilson shrugs noncommittally and sits back. You continue to eat.
He wants to talk about Cameron. The gossip that he is. It's on the tip of his tongue, but he's probably waiting for you to finish your lunch. Which you are beginning to release was a peace offering.
"So," he begins, "Cameron." You roll your eyes and chuck the saran wrap near the trash bin. It misses.
"What about her?" Propping your feet on the desk unsettles a stack of notes you've been writing in the half hour, but they don't fall from your desk.
"You...made out with her in the middle of a crowded bar." He replies bluntly.
"I needed something to do while you and little Jimmy got your rocks off while staring down that nurses blouse."
Now it's his turn to roll his eyes. You tell him that you've slept with her. He predictably asks if you're in a relationship.
"No." You're employer and employee. Wilson doesn't buy it but you manage to coax him into a game of quarters.
You leave your office a couple hours later with knuckles stinging and blood crusting nicely over an open cut. Wilson looks wimpy but can definitely shoot a mean shot.
After a long drive home on your bike you take shower and attend to those bloody knuckles of yours. It's a little after eight when you finally sit down in your thread bear The Who concert tee and pajamas with a bowl of some take out Thai peanut noodles. You catch up on some General Hospital and frown at Lulu's poor decision making skills. Getting drunk and hitting on your college professor is so early nineties.
An urgent knock on the door has you begrudgingly standing to your feet to answer it. You pull back the door to reveal Cameron standing, fiddling with her hands.
"Hey." She says quietly. "Can I come in?" You contemplate this for a moment and step back. General Hospital can wait, after all you do have Tivo.
She steps in and looks around. You can tell that she's surprise at the somewhat tidy condition. Last time she was here she could barely stand on her own two feet and only got the grand tour of your sheets.
"How are you?" She attempts at simple conversation.
"Peachy keen." You reply and tuck your hands behind your head after reclaiming your reclining position on the couch.
"Things have been happening between us that probably shouldn't be happening." She says from her spot behind the couch.
Typical. She's trying to make things right. Cameron can't handle a little bit of angst in her life.
"I don't want to get hurt." She continues as you stare at the paused television screen. If things continue in the fashion that they are you will hurt her.
Why, because you're damaged and unwilling to let anyone in.
"So what do you propose," You stand and turn to her. "We start a love affair made for the books?"
"No, I-"
"We ignore each other until its so unbearably you quit or I fire you?"
"That's not what I want."
"Then what do you want? Stop beating around the bush and just say what you want." You yell and watch her flinch at your angry words.
She knows what she wants. Why else would she show up at your apartment in a flimsy t shirt and form fitting jeans?
Taking a step forward she captures your face in her hands. She brushes the pad of her thumb across your top lip and stands on her tip toes. You give a little and capture her lips with yours. They're gentle kisses. You don't want to over whelm her and send her crying back to her apartment.
She pulls back and looks into your eyes. You hate when she does that, it's like she's trying to look into your soul. But before you say anything she drops another quick kiss to your lips. She's straining her little body trying to nip at your neck and you take mercy on her.
You grip her biceps and draw her up, giving her better access to your eager mouth. Cameron moans as her fingers dance in your graying hair, tugging gently at your scalp. She's focusing solely on your mouth, her kittenish attempts at making out is a huge turn on and you draw her closer to your body. Pressing her against your very apparent arousal.
Cameron's arms wrap around your neck and you hoist her onto yourself and her legs go around your waist. The two of you are propped against the couch which is making it easier on your leg to attend to her ravishment.
"Ugh!" She exclaims as you rock your hips against hers and she throws her head back. A pink blush creeping into her cheeks, her lips are parted and wet as she regains her senses. She's close to coming, you can tell.
This is given away by her persistent wiggling against you. She's seeking the same release you are.
She won't get it tonight.
You put her down and drop a quick kiss to her confused lips.
"Meet me for coffee tomorrow. Here at nine thirty." You grip her arm and lead her to the door ushering her out, but not before you press your tongue into that sweet little mouth of hers leaving her breathless then finally give her the boot.
A little coffee never hurt anyone.