I'm sorry about the major delay in updating. My editor has had some personal struggles lately,and is no longer able to help me with this project. Then I found I'm pregant, and all things fandom got pushed to the back burner for a while. That said, I know I'm not going to get around to editing the rest of the story so I decided to post the rest of it as is. Please excuse any errors you find. As always I love feedback, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. There are about 10 more chapters, and I'll make sure to note the last one as final.

Thanks for reading,

Raven

TITLE: Chapter 12 Sick

AUTHOR: new_raven

PAIRING: House/Chris(OC)

RATING: R

WARNINGS: Dirty

SUMMARY: You can't get too much of a good thing.

DISCLAIMER: House and his pretty friends don't belong to me.

SOUNDTRACK: .com/playlist?list=PL0E97EE610F950F6A&feature=mh_lolz

Chris collapsed in front of the sofa, and could have slept there, with her face against the leather all night. House landed somewhere behind her, probably near where the coffee table had been, before he shoved it out of their way. He was taking heavy breaths and an extra pain pill. His hand, sliding over her bare back, was the only thing keeping her awake.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked.

Tomorrow? Was that his subtle way of telling her to leave? Was he even capable of being that subtle? How long had she been there? Had the pizza been lunch or dinner? What time was it? He was still waiting for her response. "Just job hunting, I might go to the library." She answered casually.

"So you could make breakfast again?" He asked.

Only the dust bunnies, under the couch, saw her huge smile. Apparently he could be subtle. She was on his right side, so she took extra care when she rolled to face him, and pressed her upper body against his. When she stretched one leg over him, her foot collided with the coffee table. She winced, and they both laughed, until she found her footing, and climbed on top of him. Her tousled hair cascaded around him, as she leaned down to press her mouth to his.

When his hand slid between them she moaned, and when it found its target she whimpered. She leaned back, making a show of running her hands up and down her body and rubbing her breasts for him. House nodded his appreciation, while he watched. She came with a soft gasp and a loud moan and let her head fall back, limp and barely able to keep herself upright.

"Come here." He beckoned pulling at her thighs.

"I just did." She smiled. He pulled her forward until he could kiss her thighs. "House, I don't think I can…" She gasped again as his tongue found her.

She shuddered, her toes clenched, and her fingers curled in his hair. It was all she could do to keep her balance, but she was determined to keep his mouth right where it was. This really wasn't safe. She was afraid she'd snap his neck or smother him, if she lost control, and if he kept that up, God, was she going to lose control.

When she came again, the neighbors heard her howl his name. She propelled herself forward, almost to the piano, to keep from landing on him, and then lay flat on her stomach, catching her breath. Her muscles twitched and her heart pounded. House was still between her legs and inching his way up her body. He kissed the back of her knee, her thigh, and her ass.

Then she felt a too familiar feeling. His weight seemed to crush her deeper into the floor. She shot up, pushing him aside, and made herself walk, not run, to the restroom. She shut the door as gently as she could, but it still seemed very loud.

She took a deep breath, and mustered up years of therapy and cognitive reasoning skills. This was not a panic attack. She knew the difference. This felt like a panic attack, but panic attacks felt like heart attacks, while you were having them.

She was safe. House was safe. He wouldn't hurt her. That had been a good touch, a very good touch actually. She sighed. She should have seen it coming or warned him before he ever got that close. Now he knew what a nut job she was. She looked in the mirror. At least she wasn't crying. When she cried her brown eyes turned golden caramel, and there was no hiding it. She would just go out and act like nothing happened.

"Should I pee in the sink?" House asked through the door, startling her out of her thoughts.

"No." Her voice only trembled a little, and she managed to make it sound like a laugh.

She flushed the toilet and washed her hands, for good show. She opened the door prepared for questions, or a dirty look, or a request that she get the hell out of his apartment, but the hallway was empty. She found him, in the kitchen, holding a beer in one hand and the pizza box in the other. Half a piece of cold pizza hung out of his mouth.

"Hhuhhhrrra?" He asked and held out the beer bottle. His smile made the pizza dangle, even more precariously from his lips.

She loved him at that moment. She loved him for not saying anything and for being a goofy idiot. She loved him so much that if she'd realized it then, she might have had an actual panic attack. Instead she took the bottle and the pizza box from him and set them aside. Then she took the slice from his mouth, and kissed the garlic powder off of his lips, before taking a bite and handing the pizza back to him.

That night when they were heading for bed, not that they'd been out of bed for very long, she pulled a spare sheet from his linen closet and took it with her into the bedroom. When he asked what she was doing she'd explained; this way they wouldn't have to fight for covers. He wasn't sure he liked her using a sheet without asking, but he did like not having to share.

When he woke in the morning, he really didn't like the extra sheet. Not only did it ruin his view of her body, now he had to sift through his sheet and hers to press himself against her. When this was accomplished, he woke her with a kiss.

"You brushed your teeth." He said. She just nodded against his shoulder. "You didn't brush your teeth yesterday morning?"

"I didn't wake up early enough, yesterday. What? Do you prefer the morning breath?"

He frowned and said "No, but I'm not getting up before dawn to brush my teeth."

"I didn't ask you to." She kissed him to prove her point. Really, she had only brushed because she wasn't sure how much time she'd have before he needed to leave for work. Now, she could be ready to leave in less than five minutes.

"It's a hint."

"No, it's really not." She kissed him longer and harder this time. He seemed to accept her argument, as he kissed her back. She wondered when they would kiss again. What if this was just a two night stand? What if this was the last time she'd ever get to kiss him? A slight dread fuelled her passion, as she stroked him and asked, "So how late can you be to work?"

"I was thinking of calling in." He said, kissing her neck.

"We will eventually have to leave the apartment again." Her voice was cool, but she couldn't hide her smile. "You wouldn't be as hot if you weren't a doctor."

He laughed, but looked up to make sure she was kidding. "So I should go to work?"

Chris just shook her head and wrapped her legs around him. At some point, after they made it out of the bed, House sent a mass text to Cuddy, Wilson, and his team that simply said "sick". No one even questioned this. They assumed that "sick" meant "hung-over" and went about their business.

Only Wilson called, and that was simply to see if House still wanted to go bowling that night. When there was no answer on the home phone or mobile, he decided he'd go over at lunch, to make sure House hadn't done anything especially stupid. He didn't really start to worry, until House didn't answer the door.

He used his key to let himself in, and called out a few times. When he saw the coffee table out of place he sighed. He looked down the hall and tried not to imagine what he might find. He always feared he would be the one to find his friend dead, after some night of debauchery. The fact that House still had the presence of mind to send a text message, a few hours ago, made that unlikely, but didn't completely ease his mind.

Wilson was both relieved and annoyed, but not shocked by the scene he found in House's bedroom. There was a full length mirror strapped to the foot of the bed, with bungee cords, and another large mirror propped against the wall on House's side of the bed. Wilson guessed that House, who rarely bothered to shave, only kept full length mirrors in the apartment for this type of scenario. He shook his head and gave a sigh of relief. He would have turned to leave, if House hadn't made a shushing noise at him.

House was on his back, at a slight angle, on the left side of the bed. A sheet covered him from his waist to his knees. The girl next to him was on her stomach. Her head was near House's feet. She had one leg tucked under her, and the other foot dangled off the bed. The sheet stretched across and barely covered her ass, and that was only because House had heard Wilson come in, and thought that the bright purple bruise would be too much information, even for his best friend.

"Sick?" Wilson asked in loud whisper.

"Not now, but what we were doing fifteen minutes ago, that was sick." House grinned.

Chris popped her head up, as if startled from her sleep, and twisted back to look at House. "Who are you talking to?" When she didn't see a phone in his hand she turned and looked up at Wilson. Her eyes grew wider, as she gulped and crossed her arms in front of her chest, as if any level of modesty could be recovered at that point.

Wilson tried not to look directly at her, once he realized it was her, and not just some hooker. The mirror next to House's side of the bed did not help him avert his gaze. He felt the need to say something, so that it didn't appear that he was just checking up on House. "Will you be well enough to bowl tonight?"

Everyone in the room, even House himself, was wondering if he would defer to Chris. Wilson thought he might, since whatever they had been doing was clearly more fun than bowling. House thought he might, but didn't want to do it in front of Wilson, because Wilson would read way too much into it. Chris didn't give him the chance. Skipping work was fun. Blowing off friends was something totally different.

"You should go. I have to help Rachel study for her SATs." Even if that had been true, she wouldn't have turned to say it to House's face, for fear of losing what little cover she had left.

House and Wilson exchanged nods that she still couldn't quite understand. Wilson confirmed that they were still on for the same time and place, and then offered her an awkward goodbye. When they heard the door shut and lock, she sat up and turned to face House. He was looking at her like she was an inconsistent lab result.

"What?" She asked. "It's chicks before dicks."

"That's always been my motto." House agreed and pulled her down next to him.