A/N: Part one of two or three for this scene/ set-up. I was so hoping to have it all up tonight, but, as always, things didn't quite go to plan :p. I'll have the next part up this weekend, I promise, but I hope you like this lead-in :). Comments would make my day!
Looking up from the sheet music on the piano, House watches as the warm glow of headlights plays over the blinds, remaining seated until the accompanying sound of the engine dies down. Pushing himself up from his stool, he pulls down one of the Venetian slats just enough to ID the car parked outside. With some surprise, he recognises it as Cameron's own, and he stalks into the kitchen and turns on the lights while wondering how to interpret the fact that she's driven over rather than taking a cab.
Maybe she isn't planning on drinking...
Uneasy in light of this sudden thought, he glances at the fridge; hoping Wilson might have bought himself some juice or soda the last time he picked up their groceries, as otherwise, all he has to offer is water.
She doesn't drink soda.
He rubs at his scruff, thrown by his certainty over something he doesn't recall ever discussing with the blonde, yet somehow, he knows he's right.
Grabbing his cane and making his way to the door when the bell chimes, he tries to think of an appropriate greeting to suit the occasion, but so far, he's not entirely sure just what tonight actually is.
This turns out not to matter, as when he pulls open the door, any contenders that might have presented themselves as an acceptable way to welcome a guest die on his tongue; his breath catching in his throat as he takes in bare flesh and black leather.
"Hi."
Cameron smiles a little nervously, but she imagines that the slight waver in her voice could easily be put down to the cold. On cue, she glances down at her feet, trying her best to free her boots of their thin veil of snow without looking a fool.
"... Aren't you freezing?"
House asks finally, and any annoyance Cameron might feel at the fact that this is the first thing he's said to her in spite of her efforts to present herself nicely dissipates as she notes the fact that his attention remains raptly fixated on her legs. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he looked a little dazed. Stunned. Grinning, she swiftly appropriates a more demure expression when he finally meets her gaze and offers a shrug of her shoulders.
"A little, but I'm hoping your plans for this evening involve us being inside, in which case, I should warm up fine. A drink might help."
She suggests coyly, not usually so forward, but she needs him to take a step back and let her breathe before she starts to feel dizzy.
"Might it?"
House laughs dryly, equally surprised by the blonde's gall. Pleasantly so.
Pleasantly surprised by a great deal just now, as it happens.
"What can I get you?"
He asks, leading them from the hallway into the kitchen and watching the blonde as she drinks in her surroundings curiously.
"What are you having?"
"That's not how this works. Answer the question. I have wine, beer, whisky, cognac... Milk."
"Let's start with wine."
"Start with?"
House teases, hoping to earn himself a familiar blush, but Cameron simply offers him another small hitch of her shoulders causing the sleeves of her jacket to make a low, creaking noise.
"Wine it is... Is this you setting the tone for the evening, then?"
House asks, pointing towards the sofa in a silent request that the blonde takes a seat.
"Hmm?"
"The leather jacket. Didn't you suggest that's what bad girls wear?"
"Please don't call me that."
"My apologies, Dr Cameron. Don't fret, I know full well you're actually a very good girl."
"That's worse."
The blonde warns, accepting the glass of Merlot House hands her and placing it carefully down on the coffee table.
"I'll tell you what, I'll take it off. Then you can just refer to me by name."
She sighs, rolling her eyes as she slips out of her jacket as though she hadn't worn it hoping for the exact reaction received.
"A layer down and you haven't even had a sip of your drink yet. That bodes well for this evening."
House grins, swirling the wine in his own glass as he meets the blonde's hard stare easily.
"It does if your goal for this evening is to get me naked."
Cameron agrees coolly.
"Isn't that why you're here?"
House challenges, but he finds he falters a little when the blonde simply turns his question back on him and counters
"Is it?"
Deciding that it's probably not a good idea to imply that his invitation had been so wholly transparent, House clears his throat and changes the subject.
"How are you feeling?"
"A little nervous, but mostly excited. Not quite turned on yet, but hopeful."
Cameron muses. Making a small noise in the back of his throat as he chokes on his wine, House takes a deep sip to chase down the troublemaker and replies hoarsely
"... I meant your shoulder."
"Oh. Alright. It hurts when I wash my hair and put my laundry away on the highest shelf, but Eric came over to help with most of that. The laundry, not my hair."
"Sounds like he got the wrong end of that deal."
"Not really. It can be a nightmare to brush, and I put all my clothes in together so it's just the one load to help out with."
"Not what I meant."
"I know what you meant, and I know he wouldn't agree with you. He doesn't like me like that, and the feeling - or lack thereof - is mutual. I've also seen him put away the dolls in the Clinic waiting room, and, while I have no emotional ties to my hair, I do like that it's there. It is winter after all."
Cameron muses, considering a loose curl between her fingers pensively. House smirks, understanding her concern as he, too, has seen Foreman carry a fistful of Barbies to their storage bin by their hair.
"It looks good where it is, agreed."
"Thank you."
The blonde smiles, causing House to frown as he finds himself pondering soft waves and recalling the way they'd felt threaded between his fingers with a sense of wistfulness stirring in his gut. He's absolutely sure she's somehow doing it on purpose.
Doing what?
He furrows his brow further.
Just... It. Being there. Here. Looking like that.
"I've never seen you like this."
He states finally, tearing his gaze from teased gold and gesturing towards the black wisp of her dress. He does so almost dismissively, his voice rough as he assesses several small bruises decorating her shins; midnight fading to yellow.
"Well, you wouldn't have."
Cameron replies simply, crossing one leg over the other so that the hem of her dress rides up a little. Watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye, she hides her smile behind the rim of her glass as House takes a tellingly large sip from his own.
"It's not something I'd wear to work, nor to slob around the apartment in on the odd occasion you decide to drop by unannounced."
She points out.
"We went on a date."
"Mm. Are you telling me that would have turned out differently if I'd worn this?"
"Hard to say. I need more intel."
House replies, gesturing towards the soft wool of her sweater. Cameron simply stares him down, forcing a more sincere answer through her silence.
"No. I would still have been an asshole... Although, it is a different aesthetic to the one you chose that night."
"It is. I tried so hard to be what I thought you wanted that evening, and I shouldn't have... I've tried relatively hard tonight, as well, but I've changed, and so has what I want from you."
The blonde shrugs, and House nods slowly.
"You look nice."
"Thank you."
"You always look nice."
"Not true. Not in a hospital gown."
"No, not in a hospital gown. Or in a hospital bed. Definitely not a look I like on you."
"Sorry."
"Apology accepted, I just expect you to learn from your mistakes."
House teases.
"Well. One of us should, right?"
Cameron counters, her own tone unnervingly serious as she holds House's gaze.
Lowering his glass and considering the last dregs of wine in the bottom, House falls silent, before leaning forward to reach for the bottle to top them both up.
"I'm trying. It took me a while to accept that's what they were, and longer still to accept that you would see anything I did as a mistake... I've always been comfortable around you. Mostly because I could do no wrong."
"You've never been comfortable around me."
The blonde laughs, before raising a brow when House makes a seesaw motion with his hand to indicate that she's only partially correct.
"Your hopeless obsession was a lot to live up to and occasionally a little terrifying - psychotic almost! - but I stand by what I said. I've always felt comfortable being myself around you. Much to your chagrin and everyone else's, which is certainly a bonus. Your leniency and utter devotion are also a nice touch."
"Yes, well, I'm afraid ever since my 'devotion' almost got me killed, I'm a little on edge."
"Sexy."
"No."
Cameron replies firmly, forbidding her mouth from betraying her amusement as she glares at her host.
"... What about your obsession?"
House counters, watching intently as the blonde wipes a bead of wine from the rim of her glass before sucking it from her thumb.
"I mean, I wasn't the one leaving countless voicemails..."
Cameron points out, relishing the perturbed glower House throws her.
"Two. And we thought you were trapped out in the snow somewhere, and we were right!"
"Alright. I wasn't the one so incapable of dealing with my feelings that I felt the need to act like a prized asshole in front of my staff."
"I-"
"-I also wasn't the one to go storming the scene hoping to play hero with a gunman on the loose... That seems pretty obsessive to me."
The blonde interrupts; taking some of the bite out of her previous accusation as she adopts a teasing tone to match her expression. House responds in kind, scolding her gruffly
"Something that was only necessary because your absolute unwavering devotion led you to go fooling around in the no-no parts of a hell basement. But you're right, I'll take it. The hero part, at least. I could have got shot!"
"You could have almost got shot."
Cameron rolls her eyes, giggling into her wine when House shakes his head in mock despair.
"Women are so hard to please these days. You've changed!"
"Yeah, well, I was recently stabbed. I'm hardcore now."
The blonde advises, grinning cattily when House jabs a finger in her direction and argues boastfully
"Not so fast. This was my second time. I was shot before."
"Mine too."
Cameron shrugs, inwardly congratulating herself on a win when she catches the genuine interest reflected back at her in blue eyes as House frowns.
"What do you mean?"
"My second time being stabbed."
The blonde clarifies, pulling the silk hem of her dress several inches higher to reveal the L-shaped scar House had noticed when they'd slept together in her apartment.
Fucked. We fucked in her apartment.
"What happened?"
"Fourth grade. Dominic and his friends snuck up into the attic while my dad was out. We weren't allowed up into the attic, and I climbed up there to tell him so and to broker a deal; either they let me see what they were up there looking at, or I was going to go down and tell dad. Dom was playing with a boxcutter dad must have left up there when moving things around, and he made some showy motions at me, warning me that if I was so keen to spill my guts, he'd do it for me. All talk mind; Dom couldn't even bear to look in the mirror when his teeth were wobbly. Meanwhile, I hear the front door opening downstairs, so, bratty little sister that I was, I made a big show of turning around to go and yell for dad. Dom tackled me to keep me from getting him into shit, and managed to bury about an inch of the boxcutter he'd forgotten he was holding into my thigh. I screamed. He yanked it out. I screamed harder. Dad came running. Dom got grounded. I got ice cream and stitches... Oh, and the undesired knowledge that my dad kept a box of porn in the attic.
So yeah.
Twice."
"Okay. You win."
House agrees, his gaze flickering restlessly from the blonde's face to her legs as he waits to see if she means to lower her dress back into place.
"I do."
Cameron agrees, moving so that she holds her glass in both hands, leaving her thighs openly on display.
"You did deserve it, though."
House muses, and the blonde nods as she concurs seriously
"Oh, I know that now. I would do the same if someone tried to rat out my porn stash. Probably on purpose."
"You have a stash?"
"Not in the attic."
"You don't have an attic."
"I know."
Cameron shrugs, smirking wickedly when House offers her a grunt of frustration at her coy behaviour.
"I use my phone just like everyone else."
She states bluntly, looking straight ahead as she sips from her drink, fully aware that her cheeks have probably flushed a similar colour to the wine.
"Allison!"
"Mm. For someone that's commented on the age difference between us several times in the past, it would be great if you could not use that tone to call me that."
"No? That doesn't do it for you? What do you search for, then?"
"I am not telling you that!"
Cameron hisses, feeling rather flushed, but she's not sure the topic of conversation is one she wants to take her sweater off to.
"Oh, come on. It's okay, you can admit that you look for 'older, distinguished doctor performs medical exam on young, nubile secretary."
"I absolutely do not. And you know I could just turn that right around on you, don't you?"
"You could, but I have no issue admitting my interest in watching a young blonde in scrubs getting railed by her boss."
"Blonde? That's pretty specific..."
Cameron muses delicately, offering House a knowing look as he regards her intently.
"Well. Everyone knows blondes are easy."
He baits smugly, not wholly surprised when his juvenile taunt earns him little in the way of a reaction, but very surprised when Cameron suddenly sits forward to place her hand on his shoulder and whisper in his ear.
"Which is something you have absolutely no interest in..."
"Hey. I have needs..."
House argues sarcastically, watching as Cameron pulls back and finishes her glass. Rolling her eyes, she offers him a bemused look, before pointing out silkily
"Yes. And maybe if you went about things a little differently, those needs would get seen to."
"Do you think?"
"I know."
"Hm... More wine?"