House, M.D. 1. Sentencing

Authors Note: As always, I own nothing. If you like it (or don't like it) let me know, leave some feedback :) To all you House/Cameron shippers: Don't be put off by this first chapter.

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Doctor Lisa Cuddy, bombshell Dean of Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was having a considerably bad day. Her hands were full – rather overflowing – with all sorts of hospital intricacies. Such pesky things included wiping the asses of wealthy patrons to secure funding for the hospital, placating the outraged families of patients when the entire process of diagnosis, treatment, and recovery doesn't happen overnight. Never forget the ever-growing list of guest speakers anxious to bring their over-zealous selves into hospital to sell themselves to the promising med students. Oh and then there's the relentless battle with the hospital lawyer who has been insisting that malpractice insurance rates for all doctors needed to be increased…dramatically. But Cuddy knew that given the choice, most of the highly qualified doctors on her payroll would laugh in her face and walk on down to Princeton General, leaving her with little choice but to hire incompetent med students. And that is just a disaster waiting to happen.

So in addition to the shit-storm spiraling out of control in her office, Dr. Cuddy had another problem she needed to address. That problem being none other than the childish antics of the brilliant Dr. House. That infuriating, stubborn, callous, seductive pain in the ass had plucked her last nerve. His complete disregard for patient wishes, coupled with his inability to restrain his snarky comments and absolute lack of human emotion had gotten him into trouble again. Once, just once, Dr. Cuddy wished he would, if only for a second, think of someone but himself. Regardless of what others might assume about their relationship, she adored House – every part of him. But more than that, she respected him, valued his opinions, trusted him entirely…followed him blindly. Even though he was probably the biggest liability of the hospital, Cuddy didn't care. She was determined to keep him around for as long as possible and sometimes that meant she had to do her fair share of bargaining, placating, and perjuring on his behalf.

She knew, from the moment he was hired, he had no interest in the inner workings of her particular job at the hospital. And yet she figured that somewhere inside of his delightful attractive body he held some sort of respect for her. She hoped he had at least enough respect to not make her job feel like the epitome of hell. The funny thing about hope…it always ends in disappointment. House has proved that yet again.

When she heard the news of his latest fiasco, she knew that in all reality, she should have been pissed. More than that…she should've flown into his office like a bat out of hell slinging a sack full of punishments his way. Admittedly, and slightly ashamed of admitting it, she laughed. But even though his antics were incredibly amusing, her position as Dean of Medicine required her to take action against House to protect the hospital. She could think of no better punishment than the thing he hated most…clinic duty. A whole month of morning shift clinic duty. On her way to meet with the Director of Pediatrics, Dr. Cuddy detoured to House's office and with a firm hand (and ass as he not so subtly pointed out) delivered the news of his punishment.

Just as she predicted, House tried everything to have his sentence reduced; tactics ranging from biting sexual innuendos, to insults, then practically to begging. But she kept her resolve. Somehow managing to not falter under those mystifying oceanic eyes as she normally does. Every morning for the next 30 days, House was to report to her first thing at 8:00am on the dot for a four hour clinic shift.

"And don't even think of conning your fellows into doing this for you. You'll never get it passed me. I'm gonna be on you like a fly on shit," Cuddy warned.

"I was hoping it'd be more like a hooker on ecstasy."

"Cute, House. Oh, and don't be late either or I will personally see to it that you are treating every STD-riddled elderly man or woman and every snotting kid that walks into that clinic."


	2. Rottweiler Status

Authors Note: Again, I own nothing. Let me know if you like (or don't like the story), leave some feedback :). While the last chapter had nothing to do with House/Cameron, I felt that the story needed a nice set up. But don't worry, House/Cameron action soon to come.

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"Seriously? My dead grandmother could come up with a better diagnostic theory than that," House sniped from his seated and relaxed position at the head of the glass DDX room table. He was absentmindedly chewing on the coffer stirrer that was previously submerged in his mug of black caffeine.

"House this is pointless. We have no new symptoms and the patient seems to be recovering ahead of schedule. A speedy recovery does not mean he's still sick. It means the treatment is working. Case closed." Foreman insisted from the seat opposite of House. House regarded him with intensity hot enough to melt glass. Their testosterone infused stare down was interrupted by Chase, who had thrown the case file down on the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I agree with Foreman. This guy is getting better. Our job is done." Chase backed up his coworker.

"Wow Chase. With conformity skills such as yours, I'm sure there's hospitals back home in Canada that would passively aggressively fight to have you," House blurted out in clear annoyance. The pain in his leg was borderline unbearable and his fellows' relentless laziness and unwillingness to explore further possibilities was pissing him off more than usual. After all, he'd hired them because, contrary to never openly admitting it, they were intelligent. Each of them had potential. House was merely the sharp blade opening the stubborn plastic packaging on them.

"I'm Australian," Chase reminded him unenthusiastically for the umpteenth time.

"No, Australians play rugby, wrangle snakes, and wrestle crocs. You act more Canadian what with you laziness and conformity and all." House bashed him yet again.

"Contrary to your thinking, not all Australians can be like Steve Irwin," Chase mumbled as he got up to refill his coffee mug.

"Yeah, I should've hired him instead. He'd be way more fun." House mused, knowing that it would piss off Chase even more. But he didn't care. They could blame his foul attitude on Cuddy and her heartless punishment.

Cameron had been silent for the entire testosterone fueled performance staging in the DDX room. She'd been busy rifling through hundreds of unread emails in House's inbox that accumulated over the past week or so. Most of it was junk by House's standards of course. But Cameron was meticulous. She forwarded every 'junk' email to her own private account and erased all evidence of it from his account. Then, late at night when she couldn't sleep, Cameron would read them thoroughly before deciding their ultimate fate.

"Dr. Cameron, do you have anything to add to this illuminating discussion?" House asked once he realized Chase wasn't reacting to his last comment. Caught off guard, Cameron turned to face the three guys who were all looking expectantly at her. She knew just from their facial expressions exactly what each of them wanted her to say. House would want her to agree with him, even if her reason for agreeing was nothing less than because she had an irrational and persistent crush on him. Foreman would want her to agree with him and his policy-based decision because he knew that she would keep the patients best interest in mind. And Chase would want her to agree with him because he didn't have any brilliant ideas of his own and didn't want to be out diagnosed by meek little Cameron.

"Nope. I think you guys are doing a fine job quarreling over nothing," Cameron said a little annoyed by the constant adolescent-like bickering. She turned back to the computer screen and continued her assault of House's inbox, slowly but surely clearing out the 'junk', printing important memos, and leaving personal messages untouched. Sometimes her curiosity _almost_ got the best of her. On multiple occasions she'd come dangerously close to opening some of those emails. But she'd catch herself, knowing she'd probably rather not know what the contents held.

"Aww Cameron don't be shy. You must have an opinion. You're a woman – at least I think so – no one can really tell with your chest...or lack thereof," House sneered while the other two guys went wide-eyed at his comment. All attention was on Cameron once more.

"You are just _so_ charming," Cameron responded with thick sarcasm.

"Vicodin works like a charm on the ladies," House retorted, taking her last comment as a compliment, but knowing all too well it wasn't.

"Sure, if your scope of women is narrow enough to include only hookers," Cameron retaliated knowing that she'd have hell to pay for that little comment. But she liked serving the devil, so all-in-all, it was worth it. Sometimes she wondered if that made her crazy. Either that or she'd developed a terrible case of Stockholm Syndrome.

"Jealous?" House questioned, deciding that he'd get more of a reaction if he tugged at the little heart string which controlled that nuisance of a crush she'd developed. But Cameron merely rolled her eyes refusing to feed his conflict addiction. The silence hung about the room for too long and House desperately wanted his underlings out. He needed time to himself, to will away the pain in his leg before he lost his composure. "Fine. Discharge him." House finally stated, reaching into his coat pocket for that promising bottle of candy-sized relief.

Foreman and Chase exchanged suspicious glances and then looked back to Cameron only to find that she was far too engrossed in House's emails to even pay them the slightest bit of attention.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" House thundered. "Go. Get the hell out of here. I've known monkeys that follow directions better than the two of you," House pointed at the male doctors who were now gathering their files from the table. And like frightened field mice they scurried out the door leaving only himself and Cameron in the DDX room. Strangely, she hadn't seemed to notice his eruption of anger or her coworkers hurried escape from the office.

House pinched the bridge of his nose and using his cane as leverage he rose from his seated position, crossing the room to his private office sanctuary where he decided to drown out the world with the delicate music stylings of Eric Whitacre. As he limped past the computer Cameron was stationed at, he took a split second to admire her girlish figure, although much to his dismay she was mostly hidden beneath one of those hideous lab coats.

"Go home, Cameron," House said to her in a low voice. She met his eyes, only for a second, and then looked away.

"I'm almost caught up on your emails. Should only be another half hour then I'll be out of your hair," Cameron responded. She looked back at House only to find him rubbing his leg with eyes squeezed tightly together. Cameron knew the pain was bad today. She could always tell, not only by his attitude but also by his eyes. It sounded stupid, she knew that, but his eyes were always heavy on the bad days. Most likely because he didn't get much sleep before coming in for work. Cameron stood up and hurried to his side, placing a hand lightly on his arm. His eyes snapped open, staring first at her hand and then allowing his gaze to slide up to her face. He found Cameron's greenish blue pools of patheticism looking sympathetically into his own topaz tinged eyes.

"I'm not a child," he snapped and shrugged her hand forcefully from his arm. A look of hurt flashed across her face but she recovered quickly.

"Of course not," she responded. "I'm hitting the vending machine, need anything?" Cameron offered. House shook his head and watched as Cameron walked out of the office on her vending machine mission.

Retreating to the comfort of his desk, House massaged his leg in rhythm with the choral melody echoing from his headphones. The Vicodin was hardly taking the edge off his pain. And he knew damn well why. He was pissed at Cuddy. And instead of being plagued by emotions, the pain manifested itself physically. It's a blessing and a curse. Normally a little sweet talking could get him out of clinic duty. But not this time. It had been a week already and even with her busy schedule, Cuddy found time to hover over him in exactly the manner she promised. It was annoying and unnecessary. He wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated as such.

Though he had to admit, if she weren't hovering over him like a fly hovering over shit, he would have had Chase, Foreman, or Cameron (whichever one he liked least that day) doing his hours for him. But no, she checked his charting, watched him enter every room, noted the patient's demeanor when they left, and paid careful attention to the clock to be sure he wasn't falling asleep on the job. All of it was ridiculous. As of yet, House hadn't thought of a way to get back at her but when the time came she'd be in for it big time. He'd make sure of that.

House was ritualistically tossing his oddly large tennis ball against the wall separating his office from the DDX room. It was like OCD, it couldn't be controlled. Much in the way he couldn't control the fact that he _knew_ when Cameron was around, almost like he could feel her gentle nature oozing from her pores. At this very moment, he knew she had returned to the computer in the adjoining room. He knew also that the incessant banging against the wall would be irking her nerves and soon enough she'd be in his office, arms folded and scowl apparent. House had no good reason to piss her off. Other than the sheer amusement of it all.

She was holding out a little longer than he expected. But no matter, House simply amped up the intensity of his tossing. The ball was beating against the wall harder now. And only a moment later, House was grinning when the phone began to ring. He pressed the button for speaker phone which allowed him to continue throwing the ball against the wall.

"Diagnostics whore house, you got the dough, I got the Cuddy – I mean hoe" House's feigned politeness juxtaposed the vulgar greeting.

"House," Cameron said sternly ignoring his greeting. "Throw your ball against a different wall."

"Is that a metaphor?" He teased.

"Not one you're prepared to partake in," Cameron reminded him.

"Maybe with someone my age," House confirmed…again.

"Right…the hookers," Cameron said sarcastically over the sticky, sweet finger full of pastry she'd just put in her mouth. He paused for a second.

"What are you eating?" He asked, becoming aware of the slight grumbling in his stomach.

"Bear claw," she said shortly. She heard the all too familiar click signifying that House had ended the call. Within the same moment House was walking through the door of the connecting offices. Cameron had just put another finger full of pastry in her mouth and House noted the residue of glaze on her thumb and forefinger of her left hand. He noted also her talent for one-handed typing which was almost impressive. Almost. She watched as he reached down for the uneaten portion of her bear claw and instinctively smacked his hand away.

"You're going to get fat. And _that_ would be a shame," House said, looking at her impressively flat stomach. She rolled her eyes and opened the desk drawer, pulling out another vending machine bear claw and tossing it to him. House couldn't help but smile slightly and he managed a small 'thanks'. Cameron said nothing, but got up from the chair and walked to the office kitchenette. She poured him a mug of black coffee and placed it gently in his hands. House smelled it and eyes her suspiciously.

"It's fresh," Cameron assured him. He took a sip, satisfied with her reassurance.

"Where's yours?" He questioned noticing the lack of mug on her desk.

"I don't drink coffee this late in the day; unless you're gonna make me pull an all-nighter. In that case I'll go grab my mug," Her confession was honest.

"So you make fresh coffee at 4:00pm, even though you don't drink it?" House asked. He didn't need to ask. He knew all too well.

"You drink coffee at 4:00pm," She replied, taking another bite of the bear claw.

"You make coffee at this hour because you know I drink it. Jeez Cameron, does your patheticism know no bounds?" House's question was laced with sarcasm.

"I make coffee because if I don't, no one will and then you'll just bitch so I'm just saving myself the headache is all," Cameron said coolly.

"People might notice you more if you were a little more daring and a lot less caring," House told her, raising his eyebrows for extra emphasis. He took a noisy sip from his mug and headed back into his office, leaving Cameron alone once more. Moments later, he watched from his chair as Cameron gathered her things and stormed out of the office.

Finally, House was completely alone with his thoughts. Yet his thoughts seemed to favor irony. All he could think of was her. How well he knew her. And how well she knew him. Both of which was more than he ever wanted. She was predictable and yet her predictability wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Her predictability scored him a bear claw, some fresh coffee, and a clean inbox. Somehow he found himself wondering how her strong moral fiber would allow her to have this little crush on him. Employer-employee relationships were considered by many to be flat out wrong. And for obvious reasons. The fear of favoritism as a means for advancement is the most obvious of reasons. But in Cameron's case, he was not only her employer, but he was old enough to be her father. But that didn't seem to disturb her even the slightest bit. Maybe she liked older guys. She had been blessed with beauty, she could have any young stud she wanted, and yet she chose none of them.

House hated the fact that Cameron was invading his thoughts yet again. Especially when he couldn't act on some of the more…satisfying thoughts that crossed his mind. She was too weak, too caring, like a little golden retriever puppy. So cute and adorable you just want to smother them with love. But House needed something…sturdier. Something that wouldn't break under a little pressure. Something like a Rottweiler – strong, determined, ready to match you at every level. Cameron was not that something. Cameron was nowhere near Rottweiler status.

_"What a shame,"_ House said quietly to his empty office over a mouthful of bear claw.


	3. Scotch: The Remedy of Champions

Authors Note: I own nothing. If you like the story (or not) let me know, leave some feedback :) Hope you all are enjoying this so far.

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House checked his wristwatch for the third time within a 10 minute span, cursing the little hands that moved agonizingly slow, and popped a couple Vicodin. He came to the realization that his current patient, a petite redhead with a voice like nails on a chalkboard, hadn't stopped her incessant whining. Ten straight minutes of it! God how he wanted to stick a needle in her arm and pump her full of sedatives to shut her up. She seemed to be equally intelligent as that disgrace of a girl, Snooki.

"Shut up!" House finally lost his temper. The girl snapped her mouth shut and looked at him with a pouting lip and puppy dog eyes. "I get it. You're pretty therefore you think that makes you deserving of more pity and attention than Mr. Jenson in the coma ward. You have a cold. Go home, drink some ginger ale, eat some soup, and take some nyquil and you'll be back to wearing those low rider jeans for all the prepubescent boys in no time," House snarled as he grabbed his cane and limped out of the exam room.

He swore that the next moronic patient he had to deal with would be his undoing. He'd lose it. He'd go ballistic. Headliner for the evening: Mad doctor bashes in the skull of a patient suffering what he called 'absolutely fucking noting'! House lurched through the clinic with a sour face that would intimidate even the most cold-hearted of humans and practically knocking over anyone who didn't dive out of his war path. Finally, he stopped in front of the vending machine and fished through his pockets for some loose change, successfully locating exactly $1.50; just enough for a cup of coffee and a bear claw.

"Got another patient for you," A pleased voice sounded from behind him. House cringed as he placed the voice to be Cuddy's.

"Oh goody," House replied with a degree of faux enthusiasm.

"28 year old female, aching throat, and chest pains," Cuddy continued.

"Suck and swallow. Maybe I'll get lucky," House prodded her for a reaction. There had to be something he could say to get her to rescind his sentence. But Cuddy's only reaction was a face twisted with disgust. Well, he wouldn't be getting out of clinic duty that easily but he was always pleased to displease his boss.

"You're disgusting House," Cuddy slammed the patient file against his chest and turned to walk away.

"All the more reason why I shouldn't be treating patients," House called after her clicking heels. When she didn't respond, House made a heavy sigh and muttered something about her being a fucking bitch. Reinvigorated with a fresh cup of lousy vending machine coffee, House returned to the overlords punishment, making his way to exam room two.

House entered the room quietly and studied the young woman standing with her back to him. She was tapping her fingers on the counter top which was adorned with an array of jars containing cotton balls, individually wrapped alcohol swabs, and wooden tongue depressors. She hadn't removed her long thigh length black pea coat and judging by it's tight fit, it was still buttoned in the front. Her thin legs were wound snuggly in a pair of dark washed skinnies that gathered at her ankles making it clear the jeans were too long for her thin legs. House closed the door causing her head to snap to attention but she still hadn't turned around. From what he could tell from his rear view, she had dark hair, a little longer than a pixie cut, which was hidden underneath a fashionable black knit cap.

"Sore throat and chest pains?" House rhetorically asked from across the room with his back leaned casually against the door. "Got just the thing for that," the sarcasm was overwhelmingly apparent in his voice.

"So do I," A familiar voice responded. The woman turned around, removing her hat in one fluid motion letting her long curls tumble gently past her shoulders. House's mouth fell open at the site of his female fellow standing before him. He wasn't what shocked him the most; the fact that she was here, the fact that she looked deliciously fuckable, or the fact that she had two shot glasses filled with a tantalizing golden liquid freshly poured from the frosted scotch bottle setting behind the glasses.

House regarded her with the utmost suspicion as he walked slowly across the room. Once in front of her, she smiled and removed the cup of coffee from his hand, replacing it with one of the shots she had poured. At this point, House was still unsure of how to respond to Cameron's little charade. But she nonetheless picked up the other shot glass, tapped his gently, and threw it back like a pro. Like she'd done this way too many times before. Probably back in her college days House assumed. Cameron placed the glass gently on the counter and walked over to the door and twisting the lock.

"Scotch...the remedy of champions," Cameron teased. House paid her comment no attention.

"What are you doing?" He inquired. And boy was he dying to know. She didn't answer him right away, electing to keep the mystery going for just a moment longer. She walked back to him and plucked the shot glass from his hand and took the shot herself. Cameron then refilled both shot glasses straight from the bottle.

"Relax, it's not poison," Cameron cooed.

Not daring to let little Cameron know she had indeed surprised him, House swallowed the shot earnestly. No, he definitely wouldn't let her know she'd surprised him. If anything, he was willing to let this little scenario play out. Cameron smiled and hoisted herself up onto the examination table, looking all cute and paradoxically looking like a sexy bad ass.

"Cuddy is practically clocking my every move, checking up on me, making sure I serve my miserable sentence. Do you really think this is a good idea?" He asked her as he leaned against the counter and popped another Vicodin in his mouth. A wicked smile played across her lips.

"Oh I don't think you have to worry about Cuddy," Cameron laughed innocently. House's eyes bore into hers, his expression was a mixture between confusion and amusement. Confusion because this behavior was nothing he'd ever expected from Cameron. Amusement for precisely the same reason. Who knows, if she keeps this bad girl act up she could be in the running for his new partner in crime, his evil counterpart. Sexy evil counterpart. Much sexier than Wilson. And in recent months Wilson had become distastefully boring, it left House much to desire in the way of spontaneity and excitement. Then here comes Cameron just in the knick of time to save him from boredom.

"I'm intrigued, I'll admit.. But I am far from impressed," House said in a bored tone whilst pouring the both of them another shot. He was the first to swallow the scotch and then looked expectantly at her. Cameron remained cool and collected, swallowing the shot with ease. "If you can keep up with me, I might be impressed."

"Challenge gladly accepted," Cameron agreed, tossing her shot glass back to him. "Don't underestimate me."

"So tell me Dr. Cameron, exactly why shouldn't I be worried about Cuddy crashing the party?" House asked, narrowing his distrustful eyes and taking a few tentative steps towards Cameron, mentally noting the ever-increasing gap between her slender thighs as he approached.

"Let's just say she's probably pretty wet right now," Cameron chose her words carefully. And just as she hoped, House's eyes flickered with excitement, practically begging her to surrender more details. "And she'll probably be showering here for the next few days."

House's expression softened with the understanding of her statement. He smiled, pleased with Cameron's devious act and wondered why he hadn't thought of something to keep Cuddy from staying at work. Damn, was he losing his touch? Nah, no way. He had just been...preoccupied. House turned around and poured two more shots.

"Clever little Cameron's not a coward after all. I take it your cautious nature has also compelled you to concoct a plan to keep the rest of the clan occupied?" House assumed out loud. He walked back over to her, sliding between her inviting (yet sadly clothed) legs. He held out a shot for her but Cameron regarded it with little interest. House sensed her hesitation and a victorious smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"I was right to underestimate you; I'm not impressed," House gloated. Just as he was about to lower the shot from her face, a dainty hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist. Slowly, she lowered her head to the shot glass. House watched with some interest but what really got him was when she slid the shot glass between her pink lips and pulled it from his grasp. She looked at him playfully before tossing her head back, taking the shot, then replacing the glass in his waiting hand.

"Okay, now I'm impressed," House admitted in a light hearted manner then swallowing his own shot before placing the glasses on the exam bed next to her.

"You've got two hours of clinic duty left. I plan on impressing you at least three more times," Cameron assured him, taking a finger and sliding it from his neck, down his chest, and stopping when she met his belt. House's eyes closed against the sensation of her fingernail trailing down his chest through the soft cotton of his vintage rock tee.

"And now that I know Cuddy is occupied what's to stop me from walking out of here right now?" House inquired. He was curious to see how much of this was planned and how much was being pulled straight from her ass.

"Well...sure you could leave. Then you'll have to deal with Wilson, Chase, and/or Foreman drilling you about why you're not in the clinic. And you know one of them would wind up spilling the beans to Cuddy. Or...you could _not _walk out that door and avoid work as you so often do and have a drink with me,"Cameron responded sounding a little rehearsed as if she was prepared for this very question.

"You act as if I trust you not to tell Cuddy anything," House made his reservations apparent.

"Really, House? Of all people you're worried about _me_ telling Cuddy anything?"

"Girls love to gossip," House correctly pointed out.

"I don't think I'll be gossiping to my boss about you and I getting drunk on the clock in a clinic room when we both should be working," Cameron laughed again. She looked to her right, suddenly aware of the only partially closed blinds. She scooted off the exam table and crossed the room to shut the blinds completely. "Another shot?" she asked.

House nodded his head and watched her pour two more shots. Cameron's newfound badassery was definitely different. And he definitely liked it. This was fun, dangerous, and exciting...just the things he craved. But it was still somewhat shocking that it was Cameron, of all people, providing for his needs. On second thought...of course it would be Cameron providing for his needs. Hell, she'd probably wipe his ass if he asked nicely enough.

But then he began to wonder just how far she was willing to take this little act of hers. He hoisted his own self up on the exam table, relieving some of the pain in his bum leg. Cameron turned around in time to see him wince in pain as he attempted to soothe the most sensitive part of his wound in his thigh. She handed him the glass, which he downed immediately, she followed suit and returned the glasses to the counter top.

"Leg hurting?" She asked already knowing the answer.

"Obviously,"

"Why not let me help?"


	4. Legends of Sailors and Sirens

Authors Note: I own nothing. If you like the story (or don't like) drop some feedback. I love hearing from you all!

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Cameron meant those words as an offer but didn't leave House much choice in the matter. Before House could even say a word, Cameron was already using her own hands to massage his mangled flesh through the fabric of his jeans. House watched her thin fingers work around his thigh, making no attempt to stop her. Sometimes - whether it was on purpose or not House wasn't sure - her hand would slide along his inner thigh sending little shocks of pleasure to his groin. Even through the coarse fabric of his jeans, House was enjoying the feel of her fingers gently rolling along his leg.

Any nervousness that Cameron would have typically felt during a situation such as this was washed away thanks to the healthy buzz she was nurturing. She kept her focus on her hands as she massaged his pain away. At least she hoped she was taking the pain away. Instantly Cameron shook the doubt from her mind. If she was making it worse, House would've pushed her away by now. But for whatever reason, Cameron was still hesitant to look him in the eye. She was dangerously close to him, closer than she'd ever been.

It wasn't only the close physical proximity, but for her it was emotional as well. There had to be some part of him that _wanted_ this; wanted her here, wanted her touching him. House was not one to do things for the sake of someone else, especially not for her. Which meant he_ had_ to want this. Otherwise it wouldn't be happening.

House was watching her face as she rubbed his leg with the same care and concentration she used in the lab. Her hands were always so sure, so steady, of their actions. And she used the same care and concentration here. She was meticulous which meant she'd be thorough. She had no idea how large the wound on his leg was but he knew she'd massage his entire thigh just to ensure that she covered everything. He watched as her hands worked their way higher on his leg. And he watched her face flush with a pinkish hue when she noticed his member pressing against the forbidding fabric of his jeans. She ran her tongue across her lips which elicited a little laugh from House.

"See something you like?" House asked breaking the silence and at the same time exposing the fact that he was watching her as she fantasized about his cock. Cameron looked sheepishly at him with those glowing cheeks and all. The sultry smirk on House's face let her know that he didn't mind. But still, the ability to speak evaded her so she simply nodded and withdrew her hands from his leg. "Come on now Cameron, don't get shy on me now," he teased.

Cameron swallowed nervously. She wondered if she was ready for this. In her mind she was. But now that he was here, in front of her, practically giving her the okay to make things a little risqué, Cameron was doubting if she had the courage to go any further. Dreaming about it is easy. And dreaming won't lead to a crushing reality. But she knew if she went through with this, things between them would inevitably change. Be it good or bad, she had no idea. What she did know was that if she didn't do anything that would only give House another reason to look down on her, to tell her that she was weak, boring, and whatever else he could think of. This was her one and probably only opportunity to have him.

"Oh I'm not, I promised to surprise you at least three more times. That's a promise I intend to keep," Cameron assured him.

Cameron took a deep breath and slowly undid the button to his pants. She looked at him as she unzipped his pants. The room was silent, except for their breathing and the sounds of his zipper which was much louder than she expected. At first, she was stunned at the sheer immensity of his cock. It was long and thick; longer and thicker than any she had before. Her fingers stroked him gently in the beginning, teasing him and sending little ripples of pleasure through his body. The look on his face, one of complete enjoyment, would be forever carved into her brain.

House closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her fingers on him. Completely out of the blue, he felt her hot mouth descend upon him. A little growl escaped from his throat and his fingers clutched the edge of the examination bed. She pulled back, running her tongue along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. Then he was back in her mouth, all of him.

"Fuck," House breathed as he watched his entire length fill her needy mouth. On cue, Cameron looked up at him while she slowly released his cock from her mouth. He was huge, taking up the entire circumference of her throat and it took all she had to keep from gagging against him.

Acting out of instinct, House grabbed her hair with both hands and started forcing her head up and down along his now fully erect member. He moved her head slowly, relishing in the feel of her hot mouth wrapped around him. But soon his need began to take over and he forced her head up and down a little faster.

Cameron placed her palms face down on his thighs to stabilize herself against the rapidly increasing motions. Now she was gagging. And House seemed to be enjoying it; enjoying the feeling over her throat tightening against him. But it wasn't so pleasurable for her. Her throat was aching; tears were streaming uncontrollably from her eyes.

Not even a minute later, House ripped her head off of him and forced her to look him in the eye. There was a need – a desire – swimming in his eyes. It was a look she had never seen on him before. It was raw. It was primal. It was fucking hot.

"Little Cameron's not so innocent after all," He chuckled, still holding her by a single fist full of chestnut waves. She flashed him a smile and reluctantly backed away from him. House untangled his hand from her hair, not wanting to let her go, but knowing he'd be getting something better in return.

Slowly, Cameron unbuttoned her jacket, revealing a tight fitting Dead Kennedy's tank top. She slid the jacket off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor. Wasting no time, Cameron pulled off her tank and tossed it playfully in House's direction. He caught it with a single hand and nonchalantly tossed it behind his head, never taking his eyes off her. Next she unbuttoned her own jeans that were so tight, she practically had to peel them off her legs. She stood before him, wearing only a barely there red g-string and matching red bra.

House gazed at her flawless skin. Aside from the sparrow tattoo on her hip, the rest of her body was perfectly unmarred. She was advancing on him again, only this time she pushed him down gently so that he was lying properly on the examination bed. Cameron climbed on top of him, his hips between her thighs and looked down at the man who had been her unattainable obsession for years. The fact that she was almost completely exposed on top of him made her smile. For so long she wanted this. Her dreams were pretty damn incredible but they were nothing compared to the real thing.

Against his better judgment, House reached around to cup her ass in his hands. Her warm flesh fit perfectly in his large doctoral hands. He squeezed her ass, causing her head to fall back as a little moan escaped from her mouth. Curiosity overcame him. He wanted to know where she liked to be touched and stroked. He wanted to hear more of those rapturous moans. He wanted to possess her. He wanted to ruin her for any other man.

"This is in my way," House stated, looking directly at the lace red bra. And just like a properly trained puppy, Cameron's hands reached behind her back to unclasp the garment. Hastily she pulled the bra off and dropped it to the floor. "Much better," he approved of her newly revealed flesh. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips, slowly guiding him upwards, past her stomach, until his hands covered her small but pert breasts. She let out a small gasp of air as he took control of squeezing her breasts.

Giving him some encouragement, Cameron reached behind herself, finding his throbbing member once more. She worked her soft hands over the sensitive flesh of his swelling membrane. House growled in response to the pleasurable sensations. His fingertips found the hardening buds in the center of her pert breasts. He watched in fascination as her body started to rock above him as he pinched her nipples. First he did it lightly, teasing the glorious buds, and then harder. Squeezing them, rolling them between his finger and thumb, drowning in her succulent moans of ecstasy.

Cameron could feel the pool of juices collecting in her panties. Her moans, his gruff panting, her almost bare nakedness, his fingers on her flesh, all of it was nothing short of sheer bliss. The wetness in her panties began to soak through, making her more uncomfortable and yet so much hornier than she'd ever been before on top of a man. Her daydreams were interrupted by the sudden movement of House grabbing her wrists that were moving in marvelous ways, making his cock twitch and throb with need.

"Enough games," his raspy voice barely audible. Cameron merely smiled. She'd been thinking the same thing but was finding it difficult to utter anything but moans of pleasure. She lowered herself, so that her mouth was at his ear. She gently sucked the tender flesh of his lobe between her soft pink lips.

"Then fuck me now," she whispered, so seductively. House didn't need to be told twice. His hands reached under her legs, surprised at the lightness of her body, and struggled to push his pants down past his knees. On fire from her desire, Cameron attempted to stand up slightly in order to remove her saturated panties. But House was impatient. One large hand gripped the delicate fabric and ripped it from her body with seemingly little effort.

"Those were expensive!" Cameron protested as she watched House crumple up the mutilated garment and toss them in the general direction of the trashcan but missing it entirely.

"The most expensive things are the easiest to break," House blurted out. She knew he didn't a shit about the price of her panties, especially not with her hot, dripping sex staring him in the face, calling to him. Without hesitation, House slid two fingers into her drenched folds. In that moment, House felt lost at sea. A lone sailor, denied the pleasures of salvation. And then she – Cameron, the obnoxiously innocent and relentlessly moral doctor – she had taken on a new form entirely. She was the siren; singing her song of temptation, daring him to come closer as she takes him into the depths of euphoria.

"Jesus Cameron you feel like a virgin," House admonished, breaking his nautical reverie. As he pumped his fingers in and out of her with precision, Cameron brought one of her own hands down, circling around her clit. House watched her, loving the sight of her touching herself while straddling him. It was daring...such an act normally done in the privacy of one's own sanctuary, here she was, showing him how she does it. Urging him to watch, wanting him to know how she likes it.

"Don't treat me like a virgin, House. I said fuck me, not handle with care," she managed to say between the moans and mews of her song.

"When did you turn into a naughty nympho?" House asked, withdrawing his fingers excruciatingly slow.

"When did you turn into someone who needs to be told twice? Fuck me House!," Cameron responded quickly, half begging for him to penetrate her and half trying to keep up her bad ass facade.

"When I actually took a second to think about how much pain I could cause you," House's answer was honest. She smiled and looked into his eyes, not wanting to read more into his comment, but subconsciously doing it anyway.

"When I met you," Cameron's answer was just as honest, if not more so than House's. And with that, not wanting anymore coherent conversation, now desiring only the raw growls and moans native to the language of fucking, she positioned herself above him and used one hand to steady herself. The other hand she used to guide the tip of him to her entrance. She lowered herself barely an inch, tilting her head back in sheer pleasure. By the time she lowered herself half way onto his glorious cock Cameron was already feeling the familiar pressure and pain of her walls stretching to accommodate his large invasion. But House intended to do just as she said, not handle with care. When he felt her hesitate and saw her slightly clenched face, he bucked his hips unapologetically, impaling her with the full length of his solid self.

She screamed and tried to jump up, shocked with the pain, but one of House's strong hands grabbed her hip and held her in place. His other hand shot quickly to her mouth, covering it with much more force than necessary. It took all he had not to squeeze his hand around that perfectly ornate and delicate little face of hers. Especially when he could barely contain the absolute bliss he felt being buried deep inside her extremely tight cavern.

"Sorry, I treat all my non-virgins with this lack of care," House sneered. Part of him - the raw, carnal part of him - wanting to thrust himself in and out of her without a care. He wanted to cause her pain, he wanted her to know what it's like to be fucked, he wanted her know that from this point on she belonged to him. But the other part - the meticulous and curious part of him - wanted to prolong this feeling until the last possible minute. He wanted to bring her pleasure, he wanted her to know what unbelievable sex felt like, he wanted her to know that from this point on she could trust in him to take care of her every sexual fantasy and desire.

Cameron shot him an angry glare, angry enough to radiate through the gloss of tears in her eyes. House knew, that if she could speak, she'd be muttering a comment calling him a fucking bastard or something along those lines. He kept his hand over Cameron's mouth as he started to pump, slowly, carefully, in and out of her. She was so damn tight House wondered if she'd ever adjust to him.

Cameron was unable to pull her eyes from his. Regardless of the fact that she felt like he was going to split her in half with his massive member. Her legs were trembling beneath her with a mixture of pain, pleasure and anticipation. She was determined to get a hold of herself. She'd never been this nervous performing before. But perhaps it was because she needed House to know that she wasn't a little girl. She didn't need training. She didn't need coaxing. She didn't need to be taken like a porcelain doll. She wasn't that easily broken. She needed him to know that.

For so long she'd wished for the courage and the opportunity to fuck him. And now she had the opportune moment. Cameron was determined not to waste it. There was no way in hell anything was going to ruin this moment for her. She couldn't care less if Cuddy came barging through the door right about now. Hell, sometimes having an audience was hot. Eventually she found herself meeting House's rhythmic pumping. She moved with him, completely in sync, neither of them needed to adjust their rhythm or pace. They moved together as if they've done this a million times, as if they've already explored this territory. But they hadn't. What they did have was an understanding. One look into the others eyes and they knew. A silent understanding.

Cameron's need was becoming insatiable. She felt the heat of her skin continue to rise. The darkness of her eyes reflecting naught but lust and desire. She started bouncing on him, faster, harder, letting him fill her up completely.

House was speechless. She looked so damn sexy riding on top of him. Again, just another sight he never thought he'd see. Well except for in his dreams. He allowed her to take control, welcoming the relief it brought his bum leg. Not that he minded. No pain no gain and pain during sex, well that was pain he could deal with. Nothing a little vicodin and scotch couldn't fix later. It had been so long since he'd been in someone as tight as she was. And for right now, he was just enjoying the feeling. Fast or slow, deep or shallow, it didn't fucking matter. He just wanted that indescribable feeling of her tight sex chocking his long-neglected manhood. She started to moan again...loudly. Loud enough that House feared someone would actually come barreling through the door.

"Shut up," he grunted, wishing they were in the privacy of his own quarters so she didn't have to stifle her cries of pleasure. So that he could make every note ring out loud. He liked vocal women. Not only was it an immense turn on, it was also a clue. A clue to where that woman likes to be touched. Or how to angle your hips. Or how hard to thrust. Women are a mystery, a puzzle that he could never figure out. But sex with these mystifying creatures, well, that's not as puzzling as the woman herself.

"I can't help it. You're just...you feel so fucking good inside me," Cameron huffed in sync with her movements. A cocky smile spread across House's face as he came dangerously close to countering with a sarcastic remark. One look at her flustered face, and the bouncing of her supple breasts, and her dripping sex that was greedily taking his own, House decided that cocky smile would have to be enough for now. Even if he tried, there was no sarcastic remark to make about the beauty taming the savage soul of the beast. Cameron wasn't silent for long. Once House started thrusting his hips to meet her, she started moaning and whimpering all over again.

"Get off," House commanded. Cameron gave him a pleading look, obviously not ready to have this come to an end. "Now!" he added with a little unnecessary force. Reluctantly, Cameron did as she was told and clumsily dismounted him. She stood sheepishly next to the bed not daring to open her mouth or make eye contact with him. House removed himself from the examination bed and walked over to the counter. He opened some drawers and pulled some items out. Cameron wasn't able to see what he was getting. Part of her was growing ever-nervous and the other part was decidedly excited. Still looking at the floor, she heard the familiar sound of his pill bottle and assumed he popped another one or two in his mouth. When he turned back around to face her, she saw in one hand a clean wash cloth and in the other dangled a few brightly colored tourniquets. House's wicked smile struck fear into those gorgeous crystalline eyes of hers.

"Relax, Cameron," House soothed her, seeing the flash of fear on her face. But Cameron didn't relax, she only tensed up more. Something in his voice rattled her. Made her fear that she had just maybe gotten into something she wasn't prepared for. Maybe she was in a little over her head. In all of this just a little too deep. House stood in front of her, arms crossed, erection standing hard and proud. He looked disappointed. "Do you want this to be over?" He asked her. Immediately, she shook her head. "Good, then open your mouth," he commanded.

She hesitated for a moment, but upon seeing House's annoyance, Cameron parted her mouth for him. The absolute last thing she needed to be was annoying during sex. House took a hand and grabbed her mouth and with his other hand he shoved the washcloth in her mouth. He wasn't gentle about the whole ordeal either. His fingers were pressing into her cheeks with a lot of pressure. And he stuffed the washcloth in between her lips non to gently as well. Before she could even pull away, House took one of the tourniquets, wrapped it around her head, cleverly holding the washcloth in her mouth so that she wouldn't be able to spit it out. He tied it tightly in the back of her head. Once finished, he looked at her again and nodded in approval. Now she really was his. He owned her.

"This oughta shut you up," He said, all high and proud of his genius idea. He grabbed another one of the fluorescent tourniquets and dangled it suggestively in front of her face. "Put your hands behind your back," he told her. Cameron did as she was told, but not before sending one last pleading glance in his direction which, just as she figured, he completely ignored. House moved behind her, allowing the tip of his cock to brush ever so lightly right above her ass. She shivered, remembering the feel of him inside her. She shivered, because she hoped he didn't think that was going in her ass...

House grabbed her wrists and brought them close together. His dexterous hands expertly tied the tourniquet around her wrists. It was a little tight, but not tight enough to cause her any pain. Without another word to her, House wrapped one hand around her hips and placed the other palm down on her back. He pushed down, willing her to bend over the examination bed. She did so as if it were so natural to her. As if she trusted him. House slid his hands between her legs and urged her to spread them wider. She complied quite willingly.

"You wanted me to fuck you, right?" House asked while stroking her sensitive clit with one long finger. She nodded her head in response.

"Sorry, didn't catch that. I asked you if you wanted me to fuck you?"House insisted again, this time shoving two fingers inside her swollen heat.

"Mhmm," she managed to sound through the gag in her mouth. House wasn't satisfied. She was going have to try harder. She needed to know that sex with him was incredibly possessive. He was dominate. She would have to succumb. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up so that her back was flush against his front. His other hand snaked around her throat and squeezed a bit while forcing her head back so he could look into her eyes.

"Tell me," House barked

"Fuck me," Cameron tried to say but it sounded more like an incoherent mumbling of some sort thanks to gag he shoved in her mouth. House released her and pushed her back down on the exam bed. He smiled. He had won. She'd never be the same after this. She'd never want another man inside her ever again.


	5. Spellbound

Authors Note: Again, I own nothing. I simply enjoy playing with these characters. As always, if you like (or don't like) the story, drop some feedback :)

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Wordlessly, House willed her body back over the examination bed, placing one had on the small of her back, the other wrapped around his length and positioning himself at her entrance. Ready or not, here he came. One solid thrust and House was completely enveloped in her moistness again. Cameron's cries were muffled quite well by the makeshift gag in her mouth. An good thing too because House was wasting no time. He was thrusting hard and deep, ignoring the sounds Cameron was making. The pleasure of her was intoxication; consuming him, overwhelming him. House was drowning again, barely aware of her cries or of the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Before long, House was fucking her on autopilot, no longer aware of his surroundings, the pain in his leg, or the woman he was tearing apart. Seeing her on top of him was hot but having her like this was even better. She was a faceless, voiceless stranger which allowed him to take her as hard as he wanted. In his mind he knew, that if she even had the slightest hint of pain on her face, he would have slowed down, not daring to damage the hottest immunologist around. But he didn't want to slow down. He didn't want to be gentle.

Cameron wasn't fighting or squirming against him, instead she was meeting his forceful thrusts, throwing her head back every so often making soft grunting noises. House was pleased; glad that she could match his ferocity and enjoy it as much as he did. That was something he didn't get from many women. When he took control, most of them just laid there like a lifeless doll unable to keep up with him and instead spending all their energy on not giving into the pain he caused. He was getting close to exploding, so close in fact that his hands were digging into the soft flesh of her ass.

Knowing that she wasn't quite ready yet, House slowed his rhythm, determined to make the both of them ride the waves of ecstasy together. With considerable strength, House took his right hand and reached underneath her body to stroke her already sensitive clit. Her moans, even subdued by the gag, were increasing by multiple octaves adding even more beauty to her spell-binding ballad.

Not even a minute later House felt her walls closing around him and he lost control. With a final thrust, House poured his seed into her convulsing cavern. The intensity of his orgasm almost made House moan just as loudly as Cameron was. He had to hold his breath and squeeze his eyes shut in order to refrain from crying out at the top of his lungs. He collapsed on top of her; both of them sweating and breathing hard.

Once House was able to regain control of his breathing, he rolled off of her and hobbled over to the sink. He grabbed a towel and dampened it, using it to wipe himself clean. Cameron was still resting her torso on the examination bed, not ready to move, barely wanting to breathe. She was flying on a high like nothing she'd ever felt before. Totally devoid of control, Cameron had never felt more alive. Every sensation was heightened, every pleasure more pronounced. If she were to die right now, she'd die happy and completely content basking in the afterglow of the most amazing sex she'd ever had. Never in her wildest dreams did she think sex could be that mind blowing. No – mind obliterating was probably a better phrase.

Cameron vaguely heard the sounds of House climbing back into his jeans and zipping them up. She heard the sounds of water running. And then the all too familiar sound of House's lopsided gait approaching her, stopping just behind her still very naked body.

"Spread your legs," He almost whispered. Cameron didn't hesitate spreading her legs before he even finished his sentence. After the experience they just shared there was no reason for her to feel shy or inhibited. He had seen, and subsequently taken all of her, her most private parts in all the ways she knew. Physically, emotionally, and mentally, she gave herself to him.

House placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and slid them slowly down her back, over her ass, down the back of her thighs and finally stopped at her ankles. Cameron shivered. His fingers were cold. And mixing that with the featherweight touches on her still burning skin, she was afflicted with uncontrollable tremors; the beginning of another surrender. She nearly jumped when the soft skin of her ankle was met with a cold, wet rag. Slowly, House gently wiped at her torrid alabaster skin, watching as the goosebumps claimed her. Completely enamored by the soft gasps of air passing between her lips when he blew a gentle stream of air onto her damp skin.

He took his time, making sure to pay special attention to every inch of her starlight tinged body. House wiped her legs, her ass, her back, and arms, her neck and chest, and finally her swollen sex fighting the urge to caress her sweet spot once more. Craving the precious sound of her mewls and the friction of his skin against hers. Quickly, House shook the thought from his head.

But it was too late for him. From the moment he entered her, she had placed a curse upon him. He was spellbound. Doomed to covet thoughts of her august body and all the things he'd like to do with it; all the ways he'd pay homage to it's divinity. House frowned at this revelation.

_"Damn, damn, damn, god fucking damn it,"_ he thought to himself while shaking his head. Not because he was ashamed nor was he angry. But because he didn't want this to happen. He didn't want to be caught up in the conglomerate web of emotion. He didn't want the distractions that forever accompany those pesky, convoluted feelings.

House pulled himself from his contemplation and began working to untie the tourniquet around her head. Gently pulling it from her disheveled hair then carefully removing the saliva-saturated rag from her mouth. He balled up the rags and tossed them to the trashcan. Before walking away, he gently tugged on the tourniquet that had her wrists bound and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans. Distraught and still consumed by his unfortunate epiphany, House walked stiffly back to the counter and poured two more shots from the now half empty bottle of scotch.

Cameron finally hoisted herself up from her bent over position and slowly scavenged the room for her various items of clothing. House was watching her with mild interest as she quickly snapped her bra and pulled her Dead Kennedy's tank top over her head, sheathing her midriff from his wandering eyes. Cameron then pulled on her excruciatingly tight jeans back onto her legs. In retrospect, this particular pair of jeans, although doing wonders for her legs, probably wasn't the best choice. Especially now that she had to endure the rough material rubbing against her swollen and sensitive sex. Once dressed in everything save for her coat and hat, she finally looked at him.

He was beautiful. Every part of him. Now, more than ever, she could see that. He was gruff and sullen. He was delicious and biting. He was aged but to perfection. He was truly like the finest of wines. So fine in fact, Cameron had to wonder if he was a gift of Dionysus. The gods were always cruel. And here he was, the most intoxicating creature she'd ever known, but there he remained; to always be out of her reach. A mirage of her emotionally starved mind. A dream that she couldn't quite recall. She shook the ridiculous thoughts from her head.

Cameron walked towards him, stopping mere inches from his face, and reached out with trembling hands. She traced his lips with her finger wanting so badly to just kiss him. To pour herself into him, to bear her soul to him through such a simple act. But she backed away almost laughing. House was relieved. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath until she broke contact with him. Then the silence became awkward. She was biting her lip and staring nervously at her feet.

"So what now?" she asked. She didn't want to but she had to. House looked at his watch, then at her, and then to the shots he poured.

"Still have another 45 minutes left. Care for a drink?" He responded, knowing her question held so much more depth. A depth he didn't want to get lost in. Even though it wasn't the answer she was searching for, Cameron nonetheless nodded and picked up one of the shot glasses swallowing the liquid earnestly.

Scotch surely was the remedy of champions but it couldn't extinguish the thick fog of awkwardness hanging over their heads. Neither of them knew what to say. If they even wanted to say anything at all. If she left right now, she'd have a perfect ending. Not _the_ perfect ending. But as perfect as perfect can be when it came to House.

Cameron knew that House wouldn't bring her into a smothering embrace. He wouldn't shower her with kisses. He wouldn't assign her any endearing names. She knew all of this before she'd schemed Cuddy into going home. Before she tricked the newest nurse working in the clinic who had absolutely no idea who Cameron was. Before she fell in love with him. And that's why she loved him.

She loved him for all the things he denied her. She loved him for his I-don't-give-a-shit attitude. She loved him for his sarcasm, his adolescent jokes, his insanely brilliant mind. She loved him, knowing it was wrong, knowing it would never be requited, knowing she'd never get over him, knowing she was ruined for any other man.

_"But that's what love is, right?"_ she thought to herself. _"Hopelessly, helplessly, uncontrollably, unorthodoxly, relentlessly devoted to someone even in the face of inevitable pain, disappointment and eternal heartache. That's what love is,"_ Cameron tried to convince herself.

She sighed and gave one last smile to House before donning her jacket once more and shoving her messy sex hair back under her knit cap. House gave her a puzzled look.

"Where are you going?" he asked hesitantly taking a step towards her.

"To review you article on parasites before submitting it to the New England Journal of Medicine," she sighed, smoothing her jacket and pants with her hands.

"With no panties?" House asked suggestively causing Cameron to blush a little.

"Looks like it," she agreed. Cameron turned from him and crossed the room to the door. She laid a hesitant hand on the silver knob, fighting back the urge to turn around and strip naked all over again.

"Hey,wait! I still have a half hour left," Hose whined sensing that she really didn't want to leave. And he himself not wanting her to leave either.

"I think you'll survive," Cameron retorted without emotion. "I'll see you back in the office," she added.

_"Damn him. Why does he have to make it so hard for me to leave?"_

"Actually, I wasn't going back to the office today," House confessed. When Cameron's eyebrow raised in question, House flashed that sexy grin of his. "Since Cuddy won't be around, I figured I'd cut out early...head back to my place," he continued.

Cameron just nodded not surprised at all by his desire to cut out from work early. She watched him as he busied himself pouring another shot.

"You should come, too," House spoke in a nonchalant tone. Cameron's heart fluttered at his invite but she immediately clipped the wings of those troublesome butterflies, reminding herself that he only had one thing on his mind: sex.

She padded softly back to him, placing a hand on his and using her nimble fingers to slide the shot glass from his grasp. She lifted it to her lips and poured the nepenthe slowly down her throat.

"Tell you what. Go home, do whatever it is you normally do, and when tomorrow comes if you still want me to come over just give me a call," she smiled simply, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, and this time walking out the door, leaving House alone with his thoughts and a bottle of scotch.


End file.
