Breakfast in bed
House awoke the next morning to the comfortable weight of Cameron beside him. She had curled up to his body and her hair fanned around the pillow, mouth open slightly as she took regular breaths. He smiled a little before bringing his forearm up and resting it behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. He couldn't remember the last time he had experienced the simple delight of waking up to a woman. It suited him to keep things casual, relying mainly on hookers to satisfy his urges. Wilson had tried many times to set him up on dates and double dates, but he'd had little interest in talking to these people let alone spending the night, and eating breakfast, with them.
And now here he was waking up to Cameron, his own immunologist. And it felt great. Scary.
He had opened up to her last night, in more ways than one. The interesting thing was that she had done similarly. She had perceived that one of the biggest reasons as to why he'd been reluctant to consider a relationship between them had been her relative youth, perhaps even her immaturity. But as he thought back on their amorous activities, he noted with satisfaction that she had been exactly what he had wished her to be: strong, independent, and seductive; but also disarmingly vulnerable and kind, willing to accommodate his disability and quirkiness.
There had been no awkwardness, no mumbled apologies, no distracted glances. Instead, each had enjoyed the other's body to the full, delighting in little reactions and gestures.
It helped, of course, that the woman was stunningly beautiful.
House once again angled his head so that he could watch her sleep. He had known as soon as he'd hired her that he would have to watch himself and to work hard to maintain a buffer zone of calculated indifference. But that was before someone had tried to kill him. Times had changed and, right now, he was beyond glad that they had.
"What are you looking at, buster?", murmured Cameron, eyes still closed.
House replied without missing a beat. "Your ugly mug".
She raised an eyebrow, though her lids remained down. "Ugly, am I? Well…". Cameron's arm, which had been draped across his chest, began to slide beneath the duvet. "We'll see what Dr. House has to say about that…". Before long, she found what she wanted. "It seems one of you is lying. It seems one of you thinks I'm not ugly". Her hand began to move up and down in rhythmical motions.
"I'm afraid that Dr. House doesn't always listen to the boss".
Cameron's eyes opened and she flashed a grin at him. "That makes two of us". With this, she shimmied under the covers and took him in her mouth without preamble.
He exhaled. She really is pretty good at that. "How'd you fancy breakfast in bed?".
"What d'you think I'm doing at the moment?", came the muffled voice.
Even though she couldn't see, he smiled. "Poached eggs on…on, ah, toast?". House forced himself to remain still. No answer was forthcoming.
Cameron was occupied.
House wandered back into the bedroom carrying a tray laden with toast, eggs, and coffee. He looked over to see Cameron, completely naked, standing in front of his bookcase browsing the spines. "You have so many history books. Why?", she asked, still facing the shelves.
He had been staring, and he cleared his throat, jolted back into action. "What do you mean?".
"You're a doctor, a man of science. But if I didn't already know that, I'd have guessed that you were a classics professor or something". Now she turned around, hands on hips.
He swallowed, his gaze running unavoidably down her body.
"I want you to explain your bookshelf to me".
Shaking himself free from the spell, House shrugged and placed the tray on the bedside table before clambering between the still-warm sheets. "Well", he began, as he buttered the toast and placed an egg on top, "I've always enjoyed history, especially ancient history. Growing up in Egypt it was hard not to—everywhere you look, you are confronted with a civilisation thousands of years old. It was a place where you trod lightly".
Cameron had walked over to join him in the bed.
He handed her a serving of eggs and toast and continued speaking as he pushed down the coffee plunger: "but I think I love history because it's the story of how we got here. People are in such a rush today for instant news, instant gratification, instant reward. But the story of history can't be rushed; it has to be learned, digested, understood. It's a long process, and because it's so long, it's all the more satisfying when you finally discover something you didn't know before".
After accepting her coffee she asked a follow-up question. "So you're saying it's a quest for knowledge that makes you interested in it?".
"Absolutely it is. But it's also a quest for satisfaction". House took a huge bite of his toast.
"It seems to me, though, that you can get all this from medicine, or any other academic field for that matter. Why is ancient history so special? What does it give you that, I don't know…", she waved her hand about, "…physics or chemistry doesn't?".
House leant back against the pillow, which he had propped upright. "Science gives me satisfaction, it's true, but it's not the same. I suppose I like the ancient side of things because it reminds me of how far we've come. Take medicine. Without the Greeks and Romans, and after them the physicians of the Islamic golden age, we wouldn't be here. Or at least, not in a way that we'd recognise. Our discipline, the thing to which we devote our lives, has roots in the deepest antiquity. I think we owe it to ourselves, let alone our predecessors, to give our own story due consideration".
"So, it comes back to what you said before—the need to understand the story". Cameron also sat back, though she placed a hand on his arm and traced lazy circles as she thought. "And what does medicine give you?".
"You know the answer to that question. You deduced it on our first date".
Cameron smiled faintly. "The puzzle".
"The puzzle".
The two lapsed into silence for a few minutes, content to enjoy their breakfast. Cameron hadn't bothered pulling the sheets around herself as she ate, and her bare upper body filled House's peripheral vision.
At length, she finished off her eggs and placed the empty plate on the little table before fixing him with her green eyes. "Your curiosity, House, it's remarkable. You asked me why I liked you, the night we went to that German restaurant. The fact is that it's hard to boil down to one or two things. I mean, sure, you're tall, dark, strong; your eyes bewitch, and your face is beautifully rugged. But it's just your mind that blows me away. It never stops asking questions, seeking answers; your intellect is always burning. It's intimidating and…", Cameron paused and took a breath, "…incredibly sexy".
House pulled her into his lap, nuzzling her nose. "Stop. You're making me blush".
"I don't care. You said last night that you wanted us to be honest. I'm being as honest as I can be".
"I know", he sighed before continuing: "I'll be honest, too. I'm not perfect, Cameron. In fact, I'm as imperfect as a man could be. At the moment, all these things you like about me are a turn on; they're new. But at some point in the future, you'll find my curiosity annoying, my constant quest for satisfaction tiresome, my weirdness burdensome. I'm not worried about what happens now; I'm worried what happens then. Because I guarantee that someone, somewhere, sometime is gonna make you a better offer. And what's more, I wouldn't blame you one bit if you took it". House had pulled back slightly as he spoke, ensuring that she understood his seriousness.
But Cameron placed her hands behind his head and closed the distance. "I don't doubt it. Someone will make me a better offer: I'm young, beautiful, intelligent. It's almost inevitable. But here's what you still fail to understand, House. I'm not in this for 'better'; I'm not in this for 'new' or 'fresh'. I'm in this for you and everything which that entails. I've watched you for two and a half years, studying you, learning from and about you". Cameron paused, and leant forwards to whisper in his ear: "and now that we're close, I hate that I didn't tell you all of this sooner, because as far as I'm concerned all we've done is waste two years".
She sat back and smiled as her hand drifted down to his lap.
"In fairness, I probably share some of the blame". House rested his hands on her waist, allowing himself to harden against her skin.
"Yes, you do". Cameron reached over and ripped a condom from the packet by the lamp, before handing it to him. When he was ready, she manoeuvred herself into position. "You're cantankerous, impossible to talk to…", she whispered into his mouth, "…overly sarcastic…".
House gripped her strongly. "Don't forget deliberately provocative".
Cameron reached down and rubbed him against her entrance. "Yes, you're frustratingly provocative…", she sighed against his stubbled cheek.
House kissed along her neck and jaw and she tilted back to give him access. "I'm also a bit cheeky", he growled as he moved his hands down to her butt.
"Yes, you are", Cameron agreed with a whimper, though looking directly into his eyes. "And sometimes you think too much; you don't let yourself go".
"I am who I am", House rumbled, before kissing her hard.
"I know you are", she replied, running both hands through his hair. "You're also mine, and for the next little while I want you to switch off your brain and fuck me like you mean it. Can you do that?".
"Yes".
With that, she sank down fully, and the pair lost themselves in mutual passion as the early morning sunshine filtered through the window.
Saturday was looking bright, but House and Cameron wouldn't be going outside.
