Just another Wednesday
Cameron was woman enough to admit that yesterday's planned seduction had been an abject failure. In one sense, it didn't matter too much since they'd already had sex. All the same, she disliked not getting what she wanted. And what she wanted was House to screw her in the office. As she stood under the steaming water the following morning, she reflected on why this ambition, which had started out as a mere fantasy confessed to him months ago in the secrecy of the bedroom, lingered now at the forefront of her brain.
The main reason, probably, lay in the fact that she was no longer afraid to express her desire openly. House loved her as she did him. This simple truth proved an enormous comfort, as did the recognition that he had opened up to her in various ways. Even before they became an item, Cameron had suspected (and now knew) that House hid a playful, even loveable, nature beneath the layers of armour: just a redirection of the irony and terseness that guided his professional demeanour. Naturally, only she got to see this, and she wanted to bring that out whenever possible.
A second reason for this fantasy's force, however, stemmed from a desire to beat him at his own game. Whenever they had got close in the office, it had always been on his terms. The time after running up from the basement came immediately to mind. But when she had wanted to flirt, House had acted like he was immune to her charms. As she had reflected more than once, he was the only man who would actively refuse her. Obviously, this wasn't because he found her unattractive, but because he wished to retain control. But now, just for a bit of fun, Cameron wanted to redress the balance. If House still insisted on boundaries, then fine. At least the question had been asked.
She padded back into the bedroom to get dressed. Today's outfit was different to that which she'd normally wear, but still professional: a skirt, tights, and heels. The blouse, brand new and marketed as 'midnight blue', offset the golden fall of her hair nicely. Then, the Guatemalan necklace and matching earrings (if they had a patient, she would remove these as impractical). Finally, a subtle mascara and eyeliner. Now was not the time for excess, even if she went for a slightly bolder sweep than usual.
Satisfied, she appraised her appearance in the floor to ceiling mirror. I look good. Understated. Elegant. Sexy. It was fun to dress up for work every now and then. Even if House didn't bite, the exercise had been an enjoyable one. With that, she went back into the living room and prepared to leave for the hospital.
Wilson got in early that morning. If anyone should ask why, he would blame mounting paperwork. But really the reason was because he had a self-set job to complete, and the morning was the best time to do so. As soon as he reached his office he locked the door, hung up his coat, jacket, and scarf, and switched on the computer while the kettle boiled. Owing to the department's size, oncology had its own lounge equipped with a new-fangled coffee dispenser. Unfortunately, House had also shown a propensity to raid the area for snacks and drinks, and even though it was too early for him to be in, Wilson was so paranoid he dared not venture out, just in case. So here he was preparing an instant brew which often tasted suspiciously like asphalt.
Wilson logged in and briefly checked his email. As promised, nurse Brenda had sent over some stuff, and he downloaded the attachment for later. There was nothing else which required immediate attention, so he opened a second window and signed into the hospital intranet. From here he could access the files of every single patient in PPTH. Generally, staff were encouraged to stick to their own areas and, generally, Wilson was only too happy to oblige—why bother browsing other doctors' charts when he already had a department to run? But today was different.
There were two items on the agenda. First, he wanted to check the Diagnostics case notes for the last half-year or so. After this, he would move to the clinic files, looking for all the patients treated by House in the same period. When the cursor hovered over the Diagnostics sub-system, Wilson experienced, but quickly squashed, a flash of guilt. At the end of the day, he was only looking out for his friend. If the evidence showed House's standards remaining high, then nobody would ever have to know, and Wilson could rest easy in the knowledge that the former had not lost his edge amid a fog of happiness. If there were issues…well, he would cross that bridge later. Depending on seriousness, maybe a gentle word at lunch would suffice to get things back on track.
I'm doing this for my best friend. It's not betrayal. It's 'having his back'.
Resolve suitably fortified, Wilson took a sip of asphalt coffee and set to work.
A little later that morning, Foreman entered the department to find himself the first arrival. Although he had a Starbucks in hand, he turned on the coffee machine so that it would be ready for the others. Then he went to the desktop, figuring it worthwhile to check email, both his own and the department's. Generally, the latter belonged in Cameron's remit, but it didn't hurt to contribute every now and then. As expected, there was a flood of conference proposals, treatment requests, and medical circulars. But one entry piqued his interest: a request for interview from a popular science magazine. It seemed their panel in London had even penetrated the world beyond academic medicine. Aware that House would reject the message out of hand, Foreman forwarded it to Cuddy, typing 'What do you think?' in the subject line. Always on the lookout for ways to boost his name recognition, he leant forwards in the chair, re-reading each word.
Cameron found her colleague like this fifteen minutes later. "Morning. You're in early".
"Hey, yeah", he muttered, before looking up from the screen. "Wow".
"Sup?", she asked, shrugging into her white coat and moving to the coffee station.
"You, er, you look good. Done something with your hair?".
Cameron smiled self-deprecatingly. "The power of makeup, I think".
"What's the occasion? Big date after work?".
"Nope. I just decided to make a bit of an effort. You want one?", she asked, hand hovering over an empty cup.
"Nah", he replied, holding up his Starbucks. "Gotta say: between you looking like that and Chase looking like Chase, I'm definitely feeling like the ugly duckling at the moment".
"Good thing doctoring ain't a beauty pageant then, eh?", she laughed back.
Foreman shook his head a little. At times like this, he simply couldn't fathom how House had landed Cameron. The woman was completely beautiful. Undoubtedly, she could be with whomever she wished. Foreman respected his boss a great deal as a doctor, but he was a difficult man to be around: short-tempered, rude, hard to please. House was craggy, and this made him as far different to Cameron as could be. Maybe 'opposites attract' held true, after all.
"How's it going with Katie?", she asked, bringing him back to earth.
"Fine. Nice being in a relationship for a change".
"Mmm. We're agreed there".
The pair chatted until Chase arrived. "Morning. Did you send off our article, then?". This was directed at Foreman.
"Yeah. They'll do their own peer review and let us know within a month or so".
"Cool", Chase grunted, bringing a coffee over to the table and sinking into a chair.
"Check us out. Proper academics and everything". Cameron sipped her drink thoughtfully.
"Speaking of, got an interview request from a magazine. I forget the name", said Foreman.
"Us or House?", muttered Chase, trying not to stare at Cameron, who looked fantastic, with hungry eyes. Ugh.
"Addressed to House", he admitted. "But everyone's invited".
"Greetings, minions", announced the man himself, loping into the shared office. "We've a case lined up. Came from the big cheeses themselves. And you know how much I love cheese".
"Are you sure treating people connected to the hospital is a wise choice?", asked Foreman.
House shrugged. "Well, I suggested to Townsend that we just roll the guy over to Holy Cross in a giant hamster wheel, but turns out she wasn't a fan of the idea. Unforchanado". At the blank faces, he added: "it's Spanish, you philistines".
"Yeah?", smirked Cameron. "Define it".
"Unforchanado. Means 'unfortunately'. In Spain. Anyway, do I deserve a hot beverage or nah?".
"Come and get it. I'm not your servant".
"Good", he scoffed. "You'd be a crap servant. For one thing, you can't cook. For another-".
"-I may not be able to cook, but I can clean", she retorted.
"You can", he nodded sagely, going over to stand next to her, similar to yesterday.
"Are you guys done?", Foreman sighed. "This back and forth is becoming old".
"Fine, oh mighty Eric. Would you like to kickstart the DDX once you've browsed the file? Shouldn't take a man your size more than a minute".
As the doctors discussed the case, House kept looking at Cameron out of the corner of his eye. She looked different. Actually, she looked hot. Even hotter than usual, anyway. He couldn't quite put his finger on it: the hair, maybe? The blouse looked crisp, and somewhat tighter than normal. If he tilted his head slightly and really focused, he swore he could see a black lace bra, the one she'd worn their first night together. Oh dear. House felt a twitch down below and got up to the whiteboard, pretending to think carefully over their discussion but really trying to suppress his attraction. The first few suggestions he immediately struck off, feeling valuable focus return with each red line.
House span the marker between his fingers. "This dude has led a fun-filled life. Hit me with it, Ice Cube. Give me the good stuff".
"A PFO could explain the heart attack and reduced blood flow to the brain could explain the rage", said Foreman.
"Or it could just be the steroids", stated Cameron.
"Or the penicillin for the syphilis. Extreme allergic reaction". Chase this time.
"Now we're talking. Let's check for a PFO first. Do a bubble test and see what's up. Reconvene here later".
The three fellows nodded and rose to their feet. But rather than head directly for the door with the others, Cameron took their empty mugs to the sink. "I'll be along in a second. Don't like to leave these sitting here all day. You guys can start without me, right?".
"No worries. We'll see you down there. Room 63B". Chase and Foreman left.
House said nothing for a few moments, watching her soap up the water from his place by the window.
"You got any empties in your office?", she asked, glancing across.
He grunted and went to retrieve a few cups, which he placed on the counter. "I know what you're doing".
Cameron looked exaggeratedly down at the dishcloth and running taps. "Holy crap. I knew you were observant, but still-".
"-not what I meant", he interjected. "You dressed up for me".
"House, I know this'll come as a surprise, OK, but not everything I do is for your benefit".
"No?", he murmured, reaching into the water and taking one of her hands in his. Black nail polish.
"My hands are soapy…", she complained, though without force.
"You're wearing similar clothes to our first night together", he stated. "The necklace, the earrings, the bra. Why?".
"Why not?".
With no warning, House came up behind Cameron and forced her against the sink. "I know what you're doing", he repeated, biting her ear hard enough to draw a gasp.
"I'm not doing anything except trying to clean up", she whispered, but making no movement to free herself, feeling his weight on her back, imagining the power that was so characteristic radiating through him.
"You smell nice". Quick as a flash, House's faux anger had turned to sweetness, and he nuzzled her hair with his nose. Pineapple shampoo. No one else used it.
"You always say that". Cameron attempted to progress with the cup scrubbing, pretending that he was having no effect.
"Because you always smell nice", he replied nibbling along the nape of her neck.
"Yeah, but you don't need to. I told you before: I'm not expecting compliments from you".
"What do you expect?".
"Oh, you know, normal things. Sarcastic comments-".
"-you're gonna go far, kid. Wait…". House stopped for a moment. "…was that sarcasm?".
"Probably not", she mused. "It's actually quite hard to be sarcastic on demand, I think".
"Oh, really? You think so, do you? What else do you expect?", he asked, resuming his little kisses as she rinsed spoons under the tap.
"Rude remarks-".
"-you're a real bad doctor and an even worse human being. Thank God I'm back on track-".
"-and all-round obnoxiousness".
"Why aren't you with the others doing your job? For God's sake, you're so damn annoying, honestly".
"What's the difference between being obnoxious and being rude, Mr. Wordsmith?".
Everything was stacked appropriately on the rack, so Cameron relaxed into the other, encouraging his hands to wander over her body. It didn't embarrass her to admit that she loved being touched by him: long fingers that would almost have been delicate, were it not for the roughness caused by guitar playing, ball throwing, and years of surgeries and medical examinations.
"No idea, to be honest. Reckon they're basically synonyms. I could just eat you up". House trailed touches up each arm before spinning her to face him.
Their gazes locked.
"If you did that, you'd need to find another immunologist".
"Mmm", he nodded, kissing her nose, which she wrinkled characteristically. "And I hate interviews. Had to do a couple when you left after Vogler".
"I know", she chuckled. "How'd that go, by the way?".
"Wilson and Cuddy made me, and old Jimbo sat in on it. Wasn't too bad, though I took a giant shit beforehand to prepare myself. King Kong's finger, it was. Took two flushes".
"Nice, man. Any hot chicks present themselves?".
House suppressed a smile at Cameron's use of 'man', which, he had to grudgingly accept, was unbearably cute. "One. Forgot her name. Ginger hair".
"Good thing you didn't hire her: my ego probably couldn't take a second woman in this department". She was self-reflective enough to acknowledge that she occasionally succumbed to bouts of intense jealousy, especially when it came to matters of the heart. Clearly, another female doctor in Diagnostics need not necessarily mean romantic competition, but given that House tended to hire through perusing head shots rather than resumes, it would always be a possibility.
"Well, I went straight from the interview to yours, so I think your status as queen bee is safe for the time being. Unless we're counting Chase, in which case you'll need to fight it out with him for the status of most beautiful person in this hospital". House neglected to mention that the main reason for why he had sabotaged the interview was because he liked having Cameron around the office. Back then, he was still perpetuating the fiction that his interest in his subordinate stemmed purely from a respect for her professional aptitude on the one hand, and a straightforwardly masculine appreciation of her physical attractiveness on the other.
"I'm glad", she replied, kissing him before continuing: "I guess I should head down to see the patient. What're you doing tonight?".
"Masturbating. Managed to procure How Wet Was My Valley with extended commentary".
"And after that?", she shot back.
"There is no 'after that'. It's an all-night job".
Cameron just stood there looking at him.
"Ugh, fine", he relented. "Wednesday is normally pizza night with Wilson, but not spoken to him for a few days". Normally the pair rendezvoused at lunchtimes, but the oncologist had made himself scarce. Presumably he was sharing some time alone with Mathilde.
"Well, if you wanted, instead of pleasuring yourself tonight you could, ah, pleasure me instead. Or, second option…", as she spoke, Cameron popped another button on her blouse and looked up under hooded lashes, "…we could pleasure ourselves during the next break. Today".
"Hmm". So this was her plan. Yesterday was beginning to make sense. Unfortunately for Cameron, however, House was not one for conceding the initiative except in rare circumstances. And he was in a playful mood. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?", he asked, intentionally lowering his tone and leaning in.
"Yes", she whispered, "I am. Let's do it".
"OK. As soon as you get back from treatment, come to my office and I'll load up Real Hospitals of Los Angeles for a double header. I'm so glad you've come around to the true meaning of pleasure!". House had just enough time to see Cameron's face fall before he strode into the adjoining room and closed the door.
"Goddammit", she grumbled to herself. "I guess I walked face first into that".
With a final sigh, the immunologist rebuttoned her blouse and went off to find her colleagues.
A.N. When House goes speed dating with Wilson and Chase in S6E15, How Wet Was My Valley is the, er, show he watches beforehand. Interestingly, Chase goes because he is trying to get over Cameron after their breakup (and her departure. Ugh. The less we talk about that, the better).