Not afraid
Cameron took the elevator to Diagnostics, passing doctors and patients in a blur. Feelings of nervous excitement turned in her stomach as she progressed down the corridor. All she hoped for could soon be coming to fruition. No doubt she would have to tread carefully and temper expectation. Cameron hadn't been lying when she had told House that any relationship between them would likely be tempestuous. But the alternative—of not being with him at all—was far worse.
There was nothing sadder than being bored. Though she had loved her first husband dearly, he had been completely conventional: handsome, kind, generous, not overly ambitious, professional. He had been exactly what she had needed at that stage in life. But she was ready for something, someone, more challenging. Life was too short to languish in mundane comfort.
Cameron reached the glass door of the department. House and Wilson were smoking on the shared balcony, backs turned, sharing a measure of whiskey each. Taking a deep breath, she entered the office and made her way over to the two men.
Wilson turned first and smiled at Cameron, who returned the gesture. She couldn't bring herself to look at House, though she could sense him leaning on the railing, examining her keenly.
The oncologist glanced briefly at the diagnostician before making his way back into the office and out of Diagnostics. "Good luck", he mouthed as he passed, touching her lightly on the shoulder.
House and Cameron were alone, faint sirens and birdsong penetrating the rapidly darkening air, and she walked over to the railing slowly. Though she couldn't make out the shocking blue of his eyes, she could detect his smile. This was enough. They stood side by side looking out onto the hospital grounds.
"I didn't know you smoked", began Cameron, sniffing the air. A cigar.
"I don't. It's a filthy habit. But every now and then even filthy habits deserve an airing". House took a drag and blew smoke towards the sky, before offering it to Cameron.
"Why not? I haven't smoked since college". She winced slightly, hoping that a reference to her relative youth wouldn't make things awkward, but House seemed not to notice. Instead he watched with amusement as his subordinate took a tentative drag and promptly started spluttering and coughing.
"Hmm. You need to really commit else it won't do anything for you. It's all in the lungs".
Cameron recovered enough to hand back the cigar. "I'll take your word for it".
House accepted it with a wink, though he remained turned towards the woman at his side. "You did good work today. That was a tricky one. Sjögren's syndrome is pretty hard to detect".
Cameron merely smiled. She had been the only person to notice that the patient hadn't cried when the team had mistakenly diagnosed her with LAM, a usually fatal disease. Together with her cracked lips, Sjögren's was the only explanation. "Well, what can I say except that I learnt from the best".
Suddenly Cameron shivered. Though it was still late summer, she had left her sweater in the changing rooms, not anticipating standing outside in the Princeton gloom. "You're cold", observed House.
"No, I'm fine". She didn't want to ruin this time they had together, just talking and looking out on the world.
"I don't believe you. Here." House extinguished the cigar and tossed it into Wilson's plant pot, before taking both her hands in his own and rubbing them vigorously. Combined with his gentle blowing, circulation quickly resumed. Cameron's eyes had never left House's face during his attentions, such that when he finally looked back up, he was taken aback by the intensity of her gaze. "How's that?", he croaked.
"Much better, thank you", Cameron whispered. "Though, to be honest, I'm still a little chilly".
"Yeah?".
"I'm afraid so. I think I need a more direct warmth if I'm to survive the night".
"Hmm, well, if it's a matter of life and death, I'd be derelict in my duties as a doctor not to help". House still hadn't released her hands. He used them to pull Cameron closer, suddenly serious. "Is this what you want?", he asked, looking down into her green eyes.
"This is what I want. It's what I've wanted pretty much since I walked through your door". She tilted her face upwards as she spoke.
"It won't be easy. I'm not easy".
"What makes you think I'm any easier than you are?". Cameron searched his face with the hint of a smile, aware of the double meaning.
"I'm serious, Cameron. Women and I, we have a fraught history. It's why I'm so close to Wilson: if he were female, we'd have broken up years ago". House wasn't backing down. He had to say his piece if there was any chance of moving forward.
"I know it. But I'm not like the others you've been with, House. I understand completely what I'm getting myself into. I accept that there's an excellent chance one of us will end up hurting the other. But I still want to try, if you'll let me".
House said nothing as he considered her words. "You're right", he answered finally, "you're unlike the others. I see that now. I think at last I know what you are".
"Oh?". Cameron's lips opened slightly, and her eyes were glazed.
"You're a strong, dynamic, and completely weird woman".
"Why thank you, kind sir".
"You're also a beautiful person". House brought Cameron's hands up to his face, "and I'm not afraid to touch you anymore".
"You look like you want to kiss me, House", Cameron whispered, revelling in the feel of his stubble on her palms.
"I always want to kiss you, Cameron".
"Go on, then. Ask me. Two questions. One answer". She could feel his hot breath, could see his blue eyes burning.
"Do you like me for me? Will you let me touch you?". House's voice was a husky murmur.
"Yes", Cameron replied instantly, just as their lips met with a mutual fervour brought on by months of denied feelings and missed opportunities. House brought a hand up to the nape of Cameron's neck and pushed her forcefully against the door leading back into the office, ensuring that he cushioned the impact with his hand laced through her sleek hair. With his other, he roamed her body, starting at her hip before moving to her back and then her butt.
Cameron whimpered and invaded his mouth with her tongue, tasting cigar smoke and whiskey. Her left hand caressed his rough cheek, forcing his mouth to hers; but her right she ran down his arm, from shoulder to elbow, feeling the muscles ripple beneath her fingers as he flexed, manipulating her body to his desire. Then she swept to his abs and up his chest, creasing his shirt as she went, luxuriating in the hardness of the flesh under her exploratory hand. As she had imagined, he was in excellent shape. She shivered, but this time it wasn't the cold. Still, she yearned to touch him directly.
He seemed to read her mind, breaking the kiss with a gentle nibble of her lip. "Let's go inside. I don't know if Wilson has left, but we may be giving him an eyeful out here. Unless you're into that kind of thing?".
Cameron gave him a playful shove and led the way back into the office.
House, meanwhile, went straight over to the door, locking it before pulling the blinds and dimming the lights. She reached to turn off the desk lamp, but he stopped her as he was turning the lock. "No. Leave it on. I want to see you".
Cameron said nothing. Instead she walked slowly towards the other, who was still standing by the door. The soft light from the lamp caught her hair as she moved, and her necklace twinkled.
House was transfixed as he observed the woman approaching him: her chestnut brown hair glossy and tousled from his hand; green eyes unwaveringly meeting his blue; mouth slightly open as she took in shallow breaths. A moment later she was standing before him. "Beautiful", he whispered, almost to himself.
Cameron acknowledged his compliment with a dip of the head, suddenly bashful.
But House immediately reached out and tilted her chin upwards. "Look at me, Cameron. You are beautiful".
"You don't look too bad yourself", she smiled.
"Well, not many people know this, but I possess the secret to eternal life", he replied, moving a hand up to brush her brow with his thumb. The other remained loosely at her waist.
"Oh, yeah?", murmured the other, leaning into his hand.
"Yep. Satanic worship. It does wonders for the skin". Cameron threw her head back and laughed. I could get used to that sound, he thought. "Now, where were we?".
House's voice had taken on that low rumble she found so appealing. It reminded her, as if she would ever forget, of the power that he had. It was the power of his mind that most attracted her, but she couldn't deny the allure of his physical strength. Already a tall man, regular exercise had made him broader. Yet he wore his increased bulk lightly, and, in spite of his age, moved with the loose ranginess of a lifelong athlete. There was no trace of a limp.
"Hmm. I think we were doing this", said Cameron, lightly brushing her lips to his.
"Yes, I remember now", replied House into her mouth.
This time their kiss was slower, and their explorations more deliberate. One of his hands lost itself in the tresses of her hair, but the other moved to the hem of her blouse and edged underneath. Cameron gasped and responded by nibbling his lip with her teeth. House's hand moved slowly, the ripples in the red shirt indicators of his progress, as he edged up her body, brushing over the bra strap, though quickly noting that it unclasped at the back. Time for that later. After having made a measured tour of the expanse of warm skin, his wandering hand returned to rest at her hip, though still under clothing.
Cameron, meanwhile, had needed no second invitation to carry out her own reconnaissance. Whereas House had kept one of his hands entwined in her hair, she used both of hers to dip beneath his shirt. At this, he kissed along her jaw, and Cameron tilted her head back to give him easier access, his stubble leaving tiny red marks on the pale skin of her neck. Combined with his roving hands, it was a delicious sensation and another subtle reminder of the masculinity which he did so well to hide at work. Cameron moved each hand gradually upwards. Their closeness meant that she couldn't access his chest and she had no desire to step back even for a moment, so she contented herself with exploring his flanks and back, delighting in the way his muscles formed and flexed under her prying fingers. She traced her fingernails over his skin, which elicited a growl. You like that, huh? Duly noted.
Both remained like this for many minutes, kissing at times softly at others passionately, enjoying light contact but never going further. This was neither the time nor the place, and House regarded Cameron as worth more than a cheap grope: that's what hookers were for, and even they weren't that cheap. He could be harsh, mean, and sarcastic; but at heart (and to his acute embarrassment) he was something of a romantic. Even during their extorted 'date' he had offered Cameron a gift, insisted on opening doors for her, poured her wine. Wilson had jokingly offered him condoms, but he would never have let it get that far on a first outing.
Though he believed that he excelled his own father in every way, and though they shared very little fondness, he had observed how his parents' marriage had lasted for nearly fifty years. At root, it was because each treated the other with love and respect, doing the small things right and letting the big things take care of themselves. It was far too early for House to think of loving Cameron, but at least he could treat her with respect. Admirable intentions. But will it last, Gregory?
At length, they broke their kiss and moved over to the easy chair near the door. Cameron settled lightly in his lap, favouring his left side automatically, lest her weight cause his healed leg any trouble. Resting her head against his chest, she listened to the slow beat of his heart, feeling his encircling arms as he played with the sensitive skin at her waist. She sighed contentedly and snuggled even closer. Once, she'd come to House when he had been sitting in this very chair playing his Gameboy. He had unexpectedly opened up about his parents and it had taken all of her willpower not to crouch down next to him and touch his arm. He had looked so alone, and she'd wanted to comfort him. But it wasn't her place; not then, at least. But now? The possibilities for the future caused a surge of pleasure.
Cameron and House stayed like this for some time, completely at peace with each other, with their own thoughts, Cameron's head rising and falling with his measured breathing. Eventually, however, they could hear the janitor moving around outside, and the reality of their situation could be denied no longer. "What time is it?", House grunted into her hair.
"Hmm? I've no idea", she replied sleepily into his shirt.
House lay his head back against the rest, not wanting to move. "If we stay here completely still, there's a chance we may remain undetected by enemy forces".
Cameron scoffed. "I've seen your espionage skills. They blow".
"Excuse me?", House exclaimed. Quick as a flash, he turned over, dislodging Cameron from her comfy nook, and took hold of her hands. She squealed in surprise and made a playful attempt to liberate herself. "What did you say?", House asked with mock seriousness.
"I said…they…blow", Cameron enunciated clearly and looked into his eyes.
"Repent, sinner, and thou shalt be saved", said the diagnostician in a thick Southern drawl, keeping her hands pinned above her head.
"Never". She wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue.
"Then you must be punished", House growled.
"I think that's only fair. What's it to be?".
"Forced conversion", replied House. Before Cameron could muster a sound, House crushed his lips against hers and entwined both his hands firmly in her hair, tilting her mouth towards his. She groaned at the sudden outburst of passion and willingly greeted his marauding tongue with her own. After what could only have been a few seconds, House withdrew, leaving the other breathless and panting.
With a grace belying his size, he jumped up and moved over to the desk where his jacket and helmet lay. "Is your car still in the shop?".
"Yes. I'm expecting it back sometime next week", replied Cameron, who was still recovering on the chair.
He tossed the helmet to her. "Come on. Grab your things from the locker room and I'll take you home. I've got a challenging case lined up for tomorrow and I need you well rested. Contrary to popular belief, you are not just a pretty face".
Cameron smirked and took up the helmet, taking care to rearrange her blouse and hair. As she readjusted herself, House switched off the lamp and unlocked the door.
Diagnostician and immunologist walked in comfortable silence down the subdued corridors and out to the parking lot. It was just another evening shift at PPTH.
Except that it wasn't.
House's playfight with Cameron is inspired by a similar episode in chapter eleven of Housketeer's story 'Time Is On My Side'. I've also adapted a couple of lines of dialogue. This was the first fanfic I ever read (way back in...2019) and helped solidify my Hameron obsession. If you like House and Cameron, you need to read that story.
