House call
A.N. Two chapters in three days? Madness.
A friendly reminder that this story is tagged Drama/Romance. We've had a fair bit of drama (and there will be more to come), but it's time for some romance. If this isn't your cup of tea then the next little while is going to be tough reading for you. I'll also be upping the rating to Mature in due course, but for now you're safe. As always, huge thanks to readers, favouriters and, especially, reviewers. Feedback good or bad is always welcomed.
As soon as House dropped Cameron off last night, she had remained at the forefront of his brain. Only two hours of piano playing, in the dead of night, had quietened his mind and granted the respite of sleep. But her phantom had reappeared this morning, hair tousled, mouth slightly open, eyes ablaze, and he knew he needed a cure.
Thinking at his breakfast table had provided some clarity. The answer was right in front of him. House was entirely unaccustomed to experiencing strong emotional attachments, so the best way forward would be to rationalise current reality according to things he did know. And the one thing he knew more than anything else was drugs. If he were able to reduce Cameron (and his feelings for her) to a mere scientific question of drug use and management, then circumstances would automatically become much easier to manage, because he had been dealing with such things for a good part of his adult life.
Firstly, if years of regular substance use (Cuddy would say abuse) had taught him anything, it was that sometimes ignoring cravings did more harm than good; this craving needed to be satisfied. He would get his fix later in the morning and hopefully things would become easier as his body adjusted to its new situation.
Secondly, however, if his condition was an overpowering desire for the beautiful brunette, and the medication was the woman herself, then the problem was in actual fact remarkably familiar. It was simply a case of properly balancing chemicals, and a large part of any treatment plan was, first, the establishment of a routine; and, second, the adequate management of the underlying condition without excessive medication. House was enough of a realist to accept that his Vicodin use had spiralled out of control in the months before the shooting. This had made him angry, irritable, and unstable. If things with Cameron were going to work, then they would need to lay out some ground rules to prevent metaphorical overdoses and emotional self-destruction.
He gave the plan a few minutes to percolate, allowing his mind to probe for flaws in logic or reasoning. For one thing, he knew that if Wilson were privy to this course of action, he would chastise him for attempting to reduce everything to reason in so clinical a manner: emotions are not equations to be balanced, House, and nor are they conditions to be treated. To this, House could only reply: they are to me. This was the only way he knew how to be, how to think.
Hopefully Cameron would understand. He had seriously misread her; but with a bit of luck she had not misread him. If she had, then this situation would end as quickly as it started, and his addiction would have to be overcome cold turkey. The thought sent a shudder down his spine. The last attempt to drop Vicodin had been extremely unpleasant; weaning off Cameron sounded nothing short of horrifying. But it may not come to that, if she were as perceptive and as strong a woman as he had come to believe.
Satisfied that he had met his own silent objections and counterarguments, he made a phone call, gathered his bike gear, and left the apartment.
Cameron awoke before the alarm and lay still, arms spread out either side looking up at the ceiling. She couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she thought over the events of the previous day. It had gone so well that it was nearly unbelievable, and she had to remind herself that it had actually happened. House liked her. She raised her hands in the air and stretched out her fingers. After their tryst in the office, House had given her a lift home, and she had sat behind and rested her helmeted head against his back, feeling the vibrations course through him. Lacing her arms intentionally low around his abdomen, she had brushed his front and been happy with the result. The body never lies.
On arrival, he'd given her a chaste goodnight kiss from his bike, watching as she went inside. As soon as the door was closed, she had leant against it and beamed. If he had wanted to spend the night she would have agreed immediately, but it hadn't come up, and she was more than willing to play by the rules. All that mattered was that he liked her. Cameron chuckled and hit the alarm as it blared, moving into the bathroom. How it would pan out at work was anyone's guess, but that was a problem they could work through together. The steaming shower accompanied her thoughts.
After dressing and breakfasting, she sat on the couch to read whilst waiting for Foreman to arrive and take them to work. Cameron loved reading and kept a varied bookshelf. Equally at home with fiction and non-fiction, she was going through something of an ancient history phase stimulated, unsurprisingly, by her boss. During a case last year, House had discovered that a woman had been slowly poisoning her husband with gold, of all things. He had realised this because of his time in Egypt during boyhood, when he would hunt for antiquities in the sands and pretend he was an intrepid explorer. House had been so animated by the case that it had convinced her to see what the fuss was about.
Cameron had always liked history, especially that of the American continent. Recently, however, she had dabbled in Egypt, and was now working her way through a book on the Roman empire. Delving into long dead civilisations was an excellent way of keeping things in perspective, she thought. No matter the current state of American healthcare, there was something humbling in the knowledge that humans had never been better served by medicine than they were right now. It was an added bonus that these types of books commanded her full attention and thus prevented her mind from wandering to House.
There was a knock on the door. Cameron noted her place ('Emperor Nero: evil or just misunderstood?'), slotted in her bookmark, and walked over to open it, turning around to pick up her bag from the little table nearby as she did so. "Hi, Foreman, be with you in a second-".
Suddenly she felt arms around her waist, and she shrieked in surprise. "-what if I can't wait a second, Cameron?", whispered House into her ear, pressing his body against her back.
"House…you frightened me", she breathed.
"Well, it wouldn't be a very good surprise if you were expecting it now, would it? But if you want, I can go back outside and we can try this again", replied House, burying his face in her hair and kissing lightly along the nape of her neck.
"No, no", answered the immunologist, leaning back into her boss, who closed the door with his foot, "this is, ahh, absolutely fine".
"Good, because you smell amazing". One of House's hands moved from her waist up to her breasts, though still over her clothes, "and you feel even better".
Cameron exhaled sharply; she hadn't been expecting a House call. In fact, she had resolved while lying in bed last night to take it a day at a time, not quite knowing what a relationship with House would look like, if even they were in a relationship. That was what she wanted more than anything, but having waited so long to make a breakthrough, she was content to let him ease into things and decide for himself what part she could play in his life. She turned her head to the side and searched for House's lips with her own whilst bringing up a hand to caress his cheek. It was smooth. "You shaved".
His lips trailed along her jaw to her mouth. "I did. Not a fan?".
"I think", Cameron whispered between frenzied kisses, "that you look sexy in stubble".
"Duly noted, madame". Suddenly he span Cameron around so that they were face to face.
For a couple of seconds, they stood still. Even in this brief interlude, House's blue eyes had momentarily lost their mischief and guile. In their place was an emotion she had not yet witnessed in House but hoped to see again. Hunger. That was the only way she could describe it. The intensity of his gaze was almost frightening, such was the force it radiated. Cameron scarcely had the time to process this observation before her legs propelled her of their own accord into his arms.
House held the other tightly by the waist and kissed her deeply with a passion that no longer surprised him, their tongues jostling for position. His hands roamed across her face, through her hair, before settling on the small of her back; Cameron's soft sighs of satisfaction mirroring his own feelings as both doctors indulged their desires in the body of the other.
Despite this only being their second romantic encounter, and though what they had done so far could only be described as heavy petting, both were already gleaning erotic information. Cameron was beginning to recognise that House favoured particular areas: her neck, her hair, her butt; House for his part detected how she lingered on his upper arms and shoulders and seemed to take great delight in feeling the taut flesh under her fingers. There remained much more to discover, but for now these simple explorations were enough, as each became more familiar with the other.
At length, Cameron pulled away a little, struck by a sudden thought. House noticed the movement but continued nibbling her neck. "Hey, where's Foreman?", she sighed contentedly.
"You were thinking about him, too? That's so cool—so was I", House mumbled against her skin.
She ran her fingers through his hair. "You know he's been driving me to work since last week, right?".
"Of course I know. I have an IQ which surpasses the measurements in most conventional tests; I was offered funding for a doctorate in particle physics at MIT and Cambridge; I know the dialogue to all the episodes of General Hospital. I think I'd notice that you and he were coming in together. Unless…". House stepped back, suddenly serious.
"Unless…?", Cameron echoed.
"Unless it's all a cunning ruse to make me jealous and get into my pants. Hmm. Elementary, my dear Cameron".
The woman smirked, placed both hands on his chest, and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "Caught me red-handed, buster. I think of nothing else".
House swallowed, his mouth dry as her hot breath tickled his skin. Remember what you're here to do, Gregory. "I sent Foreman on an errand".
"What errand?".
"Guy stuff. You wouldn't understand. Anyway, it afforded me the opportunity to see you before work…", House kissed her nose reassuringly, "…and to talk to you. About us".
"There's an us?". Cameron's heart leapt in her chest as she allowed House to lead her to the couch.
"Erm, well, look, I think it's, y'know, something that I, I mean obviously if you want-, there are one or two things, several things, actually, that deserve consideration before we get anywhere close to that, er, situation".
Cameron had never seen House lost for words, and it was completely adorable. She had been expecting him to lay out some rules of engagement fairly early on; she knew that he was a man who liked to reduce circumstance to reason, to think things through, to be in control. It was one of the features of his personality she so admired because it was something she valued in herself. She was more than happy to take things at his pace. But he doesn't need to know that, Cameron thought to herself, stifling a wicked grin. House liked to play games. Now it was her turn, and she pretended to be panicked by his reaction. "So you're saying that there is no us?".
"Well, all I'm saying is-".
"-did you not listen to my confession in your office two weeks ago? And again yesterday?", Cameron allowed her voice to rise and she folded her arms, creating distance on the couch.
"Of course I listened. I fully understand-".
"-oh, you understand, do you? You think I'm just an equation to be understood? Is that all I am to you?".
House was dumbfounded at this reaction. "No, that's not what I meant, I-".
"-so let me get this straight. I pour my heart out to you, tell you how much I like you, stand there practically begging you to give me a chance, and this is all you can manage?". Cameron's voice had grown weirdly shrill, and it hurt even her ears.
House's face, meanwhile, was a picture of complete befuddlement as he attempted to process the last few minutes. He had not expected her to be so emotionally volatile, like a child. So many hours spent thinking it through, talking with Wilson and Cuddy, agreeing that Cameron was strong, independent, and nuanced. House had revised his initial assessment of the immunologist being immature and idealistic. But perhaps the shooting and resultant feelings had so clouded his mind that he had been seeing what he wanted to see. Perhaps his first impression had been correct all along: she was unsuitable.
Cameron observed the torture playing out on House's face and thought it time to end the game before it got out of hand. It had been fun initially but she didn't want to freak him out excessively—that could come further down the line.
"House".
No response.
"House", she repeated, tilting his chin up. He looked thoroughly glum and she felt guilty. Time to put it right. "Remember when I brought candy canes into the office and you said: 'Candy canes? Are you mocking me?' and then I stumbled and stammered and then you said 'relax. It was a joke'?".
House finally looked into her eyes and saw mischief. Comprehension dawned. "You were joking? That's not the real you?".
"I was joking. That's not the real me. I just thought it would be funny to weird you out. I'm sorry". She brought his hands to her lips and kissed them.
House said nothing for a moment as he processed the information. Then all of a sudden, a smile spread and his features lit up—he hadn't got Cameron wrong after all; and she was a joker to boot. He pulled her across the leather and into his lap. "You don't have to apologise for pulling pranks. It's an admirable quality and I'll admit that you got me. I lost to the better man this day".
Cameron raised an eyebrow in mock offence. "I'm not a man, House".
House ran his hands over her legs, allowing his thumbs to dip dangerously along her inner thighs, before dragging them up over her hips brushing the sides of her breasts as he went, before finishing at her cheeks. "You're right", he finished. "You are not a man. Far too...delicious to be a man. But if this is how you want to play it, joking around, dishing it out, then you must be prepared to...", House paused, before finishing in a throaty whisper, "…repel boarders". His lips engulfed hers and she sank back into the corner of the couch with a soft moan, running her hands through his hair.
Eventually they broke apart and House got up. "Let's go. Time for us to be doctors".
"Sure, but didn't you want to speak to me about something. About us?". Cameron was still expecting to be read the rules of engagement as they walked to the door.
"I did. I do. But it can wait 'til after work", he answered.
Cameron nodded, accepting the proffered helmet and locking the door behind them. The couple walked along the hallway and out onto the street.
The sun shone and birds sung, but neither noticed, consumed as they were by thoughts of the other.
