Not nice
A.N. The time has come for this story to upgrade to an M (mature) rating. While this entry is a fairly smooth take-off, it is suggestive, and things are only going to get racier from here. If this isn't your thing, thanks for reading and have a nice life. The chapter alludes to events in the season two episode 'Distractions'.
House was in his office reading through the latest issue of the Journal of the American Society of Nephrology. It was often forgotten by his colleagues, and perhaps even his employer, but he had his own specialism in nephrology with a side interest in infectious diseases. And yet he disliked the whole idea of 'specialisms', if only because it implied that doctors did not—or could not—know everything about everything. House rejected the implication. Instead, he strove for total knowledge.
It was for this reason that he automatically had greater respect for certain thinkers over others: the true polymaths like Aristotle and da Vinci intrigued him more than the narrow mathematical brilliance of an Einstein or a Nash. All smart men, to be sure, but some more interesting than others. Medicine concerned not just the workings of the human body but every bacterium, virus, and organism that might affect it. Doctors should therefore have no medical specialism because, almost by definition, it was all their specialism.
Still, here he was reading about nephrology.
Face it, Greg. You have a thing for kidneys.
House scribbled a note in the margin of a page and underlined a footnote he wanted to check later. It was a Chinese article, though the authors had obviously had it translated into English for submission in this journal, and he wanted to browse the original. Often, it was the stuff that never made it between original and translation which held the most attraction for him, especially since there was very little crossover between English and Mandarin, and consequently very little chance one reader could access both versions. House supposed that this was the challenge of translation in general—did you aim to translate as literally as possible, or did you instead aim for language that flowed, even if it meant that one version differed not a little from the other? Add to that the possibility that Chinese doctors, like himself, might have a more relaxed attitude to medical ethics, and the interest factor increased exponentially.
There was a knock on the office door, and he called 'enter' without looking up. But he knew immediately that it was Cameron, so used had he grown to the sound of her walk and her subtle smell. Even in the harsh cleanliness of the hospital, she still managed to retain hints of femininity.
"You don't have to knock, y'know", he remarked, though remaining buried in the journal.
She walked to his desk and sat in the chair opposite. "I know, but you seemed so peaceful that I didn't want to disrupt your zen".
House looked up and smiled briefly, before sitting back and giving the woman in front of him his full attention. "How long were you standing there observing me?".
"Not long. About five minutes. Give or take ten minutes".
"You should be careful. People might think you're stalking your boss".
"I don't care what people think".
House clasped his hands behind his head. "Riiight. Only people who care what people think say they don't care what people think".
"I only care what you think", she shrugged.
"I told you on our last date that I didn't want you to worry about what I thought".
Cameron's distinctive green eyes danced as she answered. "I didn't say I worried about what you thought. I said I cared about what you thought. There's a difference".
He grunted but didn't dispute the distinction.
"What're you reading?".
"Gushing Grannies".
Cameron made a face. "Is there such a publication?".
"Actually, yeah. I signed one of your admirers up to it a while back. Turns out if you buy a full-year subscription you get another half-year completely free. You don't need to be a genius to spot a bargain like that".
"Which admirer are we talking about?", she asked, tilting her head slightly.
"Lab tech. No idea what his name is".
"Ah. It was probably Michael. No wonder he's made himself scarce. Probably thought I did it".
House scoffed. "I doubt it. You're too nice for him to think that".
The other got up from her chair and wandered over to House's side of the desk. He span to face her. "You think I'm nice?", she asked, looking down at him.
"I know you are", he replied, meeting her gaze.
Cameron nodded slightly, walking forwards until she stood between his legs. "I am nice. But here's the problem, Dr. House. 'Nice' doesn't really cut it for me. 'Nice' is nowhere near enough". She leant down and whispered in his ear, her hair brushing against his face: "in a few hours, you'll see just how 'nice' I can be. And maybe you'll need to think again".
"You should know by now that I rarely revise my first impression", House swallowed. From his seated position he could see the silver necklace disappear beneath her blouse. Combined with her smell, sultry tone, and the feel of her hair against his skin, it was a struggle not to reach out and force his mouth to hers.
Cameron withdrew slightly and it caused a flash of regret to surge through his system. But the disappointment was short-lived, and she settled lightly in his lap.
"Someone could see. The shades aren't closed", he remonstrated.
"I don't care".
"But Foreman and Chase are due back soon".
"I don't care".
House gave up and instead wrapped his arms around the other, enjoying her weight for a couple of minutes. "Y'know, if we're gonna keep doing this, maybe I should get a bigger chair".
"Nah, I like this one", she mumbled against his shoulder.
"You might, but you're pressed right against my-".
"-I know exactly what I'm pressed against, Dr. House". Cameron wiggled her butt slightly. "And by the feel of things, you have nothing to fear".
These words caused a stirring. "I know what you're doing, Dr. Cameron".
She wiggled again. "So suspicious. I'm not doing anything except getting comfy. It's a free country".
House exhaled softly, willing his mind to focus. He thought back to the hallucination, when he had vowed that this woman wouldn't conquer him. A similar resolve was required now.
Cameron's hand slipped lazily to his thigh. "You've written some strange annotations on that page", she said, glancing to the open journal on the desk.
"Err, yeah", House replied in mild surprise. "I want to check out how they've rendered the Mandarin into English".
"Huh. So, you weren't reading Gushing Grannies then". The mention of a sex magazine from Cameron's mouth, no matter how disgusting the subject matter, caused another stir down below. House was beginning to wish he'd told her he was reading the annual report of the American cross-stitching association. "So, you're planning to read the article in Chinese?", she continued.
"Yeah".
"That's cool". Her hand trailed along his thigh slowly. "I remember the last journal article you read that was in an unusual language. It was last year when you were trying to disprove the migraine cure your friend had published in…where was it?".
"Neuroscience New Delhi. The language was Hindi. And he wasn't my friend". House was unsure where this was leading, but the thought of Philip Weber was doing wonders at crushing his libido.
"Sorry. What was your not-a-friend's name again?".
He told her.
"Hmm. No, that doesn't sound right. You had another name for him, I'm sure you did".
House's heart sank as he realised what she was getting at. "Err, no. It was definitely Philip".
"Hang on, I'll get it in a second". Cameron tapped the fingers of one hand against his chest while the other continued its journey up his thigh. "What was it? Daniel…Desmond…no, no. Derek? Oh! It was Dick", she exclaimed triumphantly. "That's a funny name, isn't it? Dick. You don't see many Dicks nowadays; well, I know I haven't seen a Dick for a while. You probably see one every day. I wonder why it's rare? It's a perfectly reasonable name, don't you think?", she asked him innocently, repositioning herself slightly.
House took a deep breath, attempting to forget the words coming out of Cameron's mouth. But his body had other ideas.
"Yes, I remember Dick", she continued. "Because he really was a giant dick to you, and I didn't like that. I didn't like that one bit. That day wasn't all bad though".
"No?".
"Nope. I had to look for you, 'cos no one knew where you'd gone after injecting yourself with Nitroglycerin. And I found you in the shower room, do you remember?". She tapped against his jeans with a finger.
"Yes", he replied. "I told you that I was hallucinating, that I was seeing music". At the word 'hallucinating' a vision of Cameron prone on the surgical bed, clothes in disarray, flashed unbidden through his brain. Another stir, and this one he couldn't blame on the woman in his lap. Well, not directly, anyway.
"Mmm. You were seeing music. And I was seeing…you. I crouched down in front of you to check your pupils with my light. All I could think of was pulling off your towel and straddling you then and there. But I knew you wouldn't let me, bad trip or not. So I uttered some random shit about our patient and ran out. When I got home that night, I touched myself while thinking of you in that shower room".
House didn't say anything, refusing to give her the satisfaction. But though his mind was strong, the simple fact of having a lithe, beautiful young woman in his lap was beginning to override the command of his brain.
Cameron smirked against his chest. House may be a genius, but he was just a man. And she would get her man soon enough. "Anyway, that's all ancient history now. But it's when I knew".
He cleared his throat. "Knew what?".
She sat up in his lap and looked him in the face. "Knew that I had to have you, no matter how long it took".
House nodded and Cameron could see his blue eyes were lost in some deep reflection. After a few moments, they refocused. "Well, you have me", he replied softly.
"I may have you", she replied, "but now I want you".
It was House's turn to smirk. "It seems you are a woman impossible to please".
Now she moved both of her hands to his face. "Oh, you don't know the half of what pleases me, Dr. House. But you'll find out soon enough".
"Maybe I will", he smiled, dipping down to kiss her.
But Cameron brought a finger to his lips. "What do you think you're doing?".
"Kissing you?".
"I think not. You recall my conditions. No kissing before our date tonight".
"What if I say I'm busy with Wilson tonight?".
She raised an eyebrow. "I'd say that's fair enough. Maybe your odds of a happy ending are slightly higher with him than with me".
House stroked his chin. "Fine, I'll go out with you tonight. But I'm deciding what we're doing".
Cameron prodded him in the chest with a finger. "I thought we were watching Airplane!".
"So, I've decided we're watching Airplane!. My place. 1900 hours".
"Roger that", she smiled sweetly, making to rise from his lap. But he held her in place. "What?".
"There's a final item on our agenda. One personal question each. Remember?". House tapped her nose with his thumb.
"I remember. And I already have a question to ask you".
"Same".
"Good. I propose we deal with it tonight over dinner at yours".
"That's acceptable". Finally, he allowed her to slip from his embrace.
"Well, if that's all, Dr. House, I have to go do doctor things for a couple of hours".
He inclined his head. "That's all, Dr. Cameron. You may leave".
With that, she winked at him and slipped into the shared office, just in time to greet her returning colleagues.
"How was your afternoon?", asked Foreman as he walked to the coffee pot. "Get your case files done?".
"More or less", she replied. "I'll have a coffee if you're making one".
Chase sunk into the seat at the conference table. "You guys wanna hear a funny story I heard while doing my rounds?".
The pair nodded and looked expectantly towards the Australian.
"I got it from a lab tech regarding one of their colleagues. Apparently, somebody in the hospital stole this guy's credentials and signed his work computer up to a hardcore porn magazine and companion website. Anyway, he was trying to unsubscribe from their, er, services when Cuddy walked in on her tour of the troops and, well, it wasn't pretty".
"Oh, boy", said Foreman.
"He's OK, though? Like, Cuddy didn't fire him?", Cameron asked from her position by the window.
"Nah. She just boxed his ears, gave him the whole 'inappropriate' speech, and landed him with reduced lunch hours for a week".
"What was this tech's name?".
Chase ran a hand through his hair. "Michael something, I think. You know him?".
The immunologist accepted her drink from Foreman and hid a grin by taking a sip. "We've met. He's a nice guy".
Chase smirked and sipped his own coffee. "Well, I'll tell you what's not nice—that website he was signed up to. Whoever did that has some twisted sense of humour".
Cameron smiled but said nothing. Her mind was already on tonight.