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Terms and Conditions
by Laura Smith
Cameron froze as the mug shattered against the wall, coffee creating hieroglyphics on the smooth surface, the white spatter of fractured ceramic powdered at her feet. "Well, now would probably not be the time to mention that the patient coded?"
"Did she?"
She marveled at the calm tone of his voice, the cool assessment of his eyes. "No."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"Dr. Wilson asked me to check in on you." She walked carefully around the building pool of coffee and sat on the edge of his desk.
"Don't do that."
"Do what? Get comfortable? Check in on you?"
"Any and all of the above." He sat down in his chair, struggling slightly as his cane caught and slamming it against the desk to work it free. "Go away."
"I know you're upset about Dr. Cuddy..."
"You," he snapped, his voice icy, "know nothing."
She was about to respond when Foreman swung the door open. "Patient's coding."
House met Cameron's eyes in a dare. "Now we have something to talk about."
**
"So did you date?"
House ignored her grandly as he sipped his drink, both hands holding the glass steady. After a few moments of silence, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Would you care if we had?"
She shrugged, not looking at him. "Why would I care?"
"That's the question I've been pondering. I've yet to come up with an answer, and yet you still seem to care, so I'm assuming it has something to do with your values." He sneered at the last word. "Perhaps a good Christian upbringing. Do unto others and all that bullshit."
"If you think caring for people isn't important then why..."
"Because I like the mystery. I like being right." He turned on his stool and looked at her, his blue eyes bright in the recessed mood lighting of the bar. "Go back to the hospital, Cameron. Take care of our patient. That's what you're supposed to do. And tell Dr. Wilson to do his own dirty work."
"He's worried about you." She reached out and took his drink off the bar and lifted it to her lips, taking a sip and cringing. "We all are."
"No. You are. Out of some misguided sense of obligation or duty. The Hippocratic oath. Well, Dr. Cameron, I'm not your patient. I've not signed anything asking to be treated." He grabbed his cane and got to his feet, swaying slightly. "And the care and handling of this patient does not fall within the scope of your medical license and specialty."
"You do, however, qualify for a designated driver." She took his keys from his hand. "And I do happen to be licensed for that."
**
She pressed a few random keys on the piano. "Do you play?"
"No. I had an extremely heavy and cumbersome instrument lugged into my small apartment just for the sheer joy of making the moving men hate me."
"The saddest part of that statement is that it could very well be true." She sat on the bench and closed her eyes, hands poised over the keys. "I can picture your pure vindictive glee."
He chuckled softly as he sank onto the couch. "It is a pretty picture, isn't it?"
She began playing slowly and not well. He winced and put his hand over his eyes. "The cats on the fire escape are bad enough, you know. They don't need competition egging them on."
She ignored him and began playing in earnest, her ability slightly improved. "You never answered my question."
"Which one? If you think about it, I rarely answer any of your questions. I usually just ask more."
"About Dr. Cuddy."
"We ascertained that you shouldn't care about Dr. Cuddy." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch. "Of course, I thought we'd also ascertained that you shouldn't care about me either, but that lesson doesn't seem to be sticking."
"Foreman and Chase think you've slept with her."
"Foreman and Chase think I've slept with her because that's what they want to do. Or think they would do in my position." He opened one eye and watched her as she continued playing. "After all, what's the point of having a hot superior with good tits if you can't take advantage of them."
"Is that what you think?"
"That's what all guys think, Cameron. You're old enough to know that. You're old enough to have experienced it." He got off the couch with minimal effort and walked to the bar. Her soft playing ran counterpoint to the liquid music as he poured his drink. "How many times have you offered an opinion in a serious medical discussion in which you are more than qualified to take part only to not be taken seriously because you've got the best rack in the room?"
Her hands stilled on the keys. "Could you be a little more condescending?"
"Quite a bit more, if you'd like, but I thought that might hurt your feelings." He sighed and stared down into his drink. "Why don't you go home? Call Dr. Wilson and tell him you got me home safe and sound and he can rest his weary head with the knowledge that anything I do tonight will only be self-destructive?"
"Do you love her? Is that it?"
House sighed again and turned, resting his elbows on the bar as he looked at her. The streetlight outside his window flickered and went out. "I respect her. I respect her because she's smart and she's determined and she's beautiful, but she doesn't use that to get ahead in the game, but she doesn't pretend it doesn't exist either." He waited a beat, watching the comment hit home. "I respect her because she makes people do what they have to do, even when she receives nothing for it except grief. She makes me account for everything, but begrudges me nothing."
"And she's really good in bed?"
He gave a quick nod. "There's that too."
"So you have."
House closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "Okay, I know I was talking for a good couple of minutes there. Surely something penetrated other than the part where I was talking about genitalia." He finished his drink. "Go home, Cameron."
"Dr. Wilson..."
"Look, if you want to fuck Dr. Wilson, that's fine. Just do it with him, as opposed to through me, all right? I doubt his wife is that much of an obstacle to get around. He seems to manage it just fine every now and again." His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on his cane. When she started to speak, he shook his head, his words bitten out hard and tight. "Good night, Cameron."
She stared at him defiantly, eyes flashing even as her face flushed. "I don't want to fuck Dr. Wilson."
"A big girl word. I see." House's eyes widened for a brief moment. "Well."
"But unless you can shut up," she crossed the room in quick strides, standing in front of him and breathing rapidly, "I don't know that I want to fuck you either."
"Right."
They stared into each other's eyes until Cameron managed a smile. "You're being quiet."
"Silence is golden."
"Where'd you learn that?"
"I never did. I always thought it was just a clich."
She leaned in and stopped, her lips a mere breath away from his. "No." She swallowed hard, still holding his gaze. "I think I want to kiss you."
"You were propositioning me a minute ago."
"That didn't have anything to do with kissing."
"Oh." He nodded slightly. "Right." He narrowed his eyes. "Don't let me stop you."
"I..."
Her statement and forward moment were stopped suddenly by a sharp rap on the door. House breathed a laugh and edged away from her, one hand tight around his cane, the other clenched into a fist. He shook his head as he stood at the door, inhaling sharply before reaching out and swinging it open. "What? You were worried your emissary wouldn't do her job adequately?"
"I thought you might be taking your anger at me out on her."
House looked back at Cameron, watching her as she looked at Wilson, his eyes narrowing sharply. "No. Cameron and I were just discussing the merits of silence. As oxymoronic as that might sound." He took a step back from the door. "She needs a ride home."
**
"Why did you do that?"
"Are we going to have a scene?" He didn't look up from his Gameboy as she stood across his desk from him. "Because I want to know if I should save the game."
"Why did you make me leave?"
"I didn't make you do anything. You're a grown woman, a consenting adult, even."
"As opposed to a condescending adult acting like a 12 year-old who got his toy taken away?"
"Am I supposed to be upset, is that it?" He closed the game and looked at her, his eyes sharp and cutting. "I'm supposed to be pissy that I didn't get laid last night? Were you trying to soothe my troubled heart by soothing another body part?"
"It'd be better than you being deliberately rude because I did what you told me to. I went home with Dr. Wilson. That's what you wanted."
"No. I wanted Dr. Wilson to take you home. Going home with him is a completely different story." He got to his feet. "Don't you have rounds?"
She nodded brusquely and turned on her heel, stopping at the sight of Dr. Wilson in the doorway. "Dr. Wilson."
"Dr. Cameron." He stepped out of her way, watching as she stalked off, her white coat flapping behind her. He didn't look at House. "Did I interrupt?"
"No."
"She asked me about you last night. About Stacy. About Cuddy."
"And what did you tell her?"
Wilson turned his head and offered House a knowing smile. "Don't you mean what were we doing when I told her?" He shook his head and walked over to the desk, sitting across from House. "Since it's obvious you think something happened."
"I think it's obvious she has an interest in you."
"And that's obvious from the fact that she was interrogating me about you?"
"You have the girl doing your bidding."
"I used the girl to do my bidding because she's obviously got a thing for you." Wilson sighed. "And it obviously worked since you didn't do anything stupid last night."
"Your ill-timed arrival made sure of that."
"I was referring to Cuddy."
"Ah." House closed his eyes and dropped his head back. "She thinks I've slept with Cuddy."
"Everyone thinks you've slept with Cuddy." Wilson smiled. "Except me, of course. I know better."
One eyebrow lifted though his eyes remained closed. "Oh?"
"I know you slept with her."
"Oh."
"I didn't know, mind you, until the other night when..."
"Now we're getting into details I don't want to know." House dropped his feet off the desk and sat up, his gaze holding Wilson's. "Leave Cameron alone."
"Can you?"
House took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I don't know."
**
"Tell me if you've heard this one. Bitter doctor walks into a bar..."
"Limps."
House sat down on the stool next to Cameron. "Ouch."
"I'd apologize for hurting your feelings, but I've come to the conclusion you don't have any."
His eyebrows lifted. "Ouch again." He leaned over and looked at her drink. "Is that a...soda?"
"Go away, Dr. House."
"Wilson, by the way, defended your honor."
"So now you'd be pleased to defile it?" She smirked down at her drink before lifting it. "Good to know."
"This really isn't going to work if you persist in acting like me, you know. There's only room for one bitter doctor at the table."
She turned, her stocking-clad legs brushing against his. "I guess I'll leave then."
He reached out and grabbed her hand, stilling her. "Wait."
She looked back at him expectantly, her lips pursed. He slid off his stool, barely any distance between them. "I'll go." He glanced back at the bar. "Finish your drink."
He adjusted his grip on his cane and started walking, his lips twitching with the hint of a smile as she fell in step with him. "Nothing happened. With Dr. Wilson."
"I know."
"Not that I need to justify myself to you." He stopped as she gathered her coat from the coatroom and slipped it on, not looking to him for help. "I don't owe you anything."
"You don't. But then, that goes both ways." He nodded toward his car and started in that direction, not looking back to see if she followed. "I never slept with Cuddy." He got to the driver's door and looked back at her, still where at the sidewalk by the entrance. "There was a time when it could have happened - too many drinks at the Christmas party, too many nights spent alone, wounds still raw." His jaw tightened for a moment then he sighed. "But she decided that she'd rather hold the fact that she could give me an erection over me. And she said she didn't believe I could stop being superior long enough to do anything constructive with my mouth."
"Oh." She blushed and took a tentative step toward the car. "But..."
"Besides, a little bit of unresolved sexual tension never hurt anybody, did it?"
"What does resolved sexual tension do?"
He opened his car door and slid inside, leaning over to open the passenger's side. "One way to find out."
**
Cameron gave his apartment the same appraising look she'd given it the night before, sitting on the couch instead of at the piano. "You know, you never told me if you play."
"I play."
"See? That's not so hard, is it?"
"Why are you here?" He closed the door behind him and leaned on it. "Not that I don't appreciate the thought that you want to get into my pants, and if there's anyone who doesn't underestimate his own self-worth, it's me, but I'm not generally the type of guy the girls go all ga-ga for."
"Maybe I like a challenge."
"And Cosmo said girls didn't like it when you played hard to get." He shook his head. "I'll never believe anything I read ever again." He nodded toward the bar. "You want a drink? Or did that Coke go straight to your head?"
"I'm fine."
"Good. I need a drink." He poured himself a shot of scotch and downed it before turning to face her. "So, why are you here?"
Understanding seemed to dawn in her eyes and her smile widened. "You're nervous."
"No."
"You are." She laughed softly, clapping her hand over her mouth at his narrowed eyes. "Why are you nervous? Because...because of me?"
"I'm not nervous. I haven't been nervous since...hmmm. I find it hard to remember a date."
"Then why won't you come over here?"
"This banter is starting to sound like something out of a Cinemax movie." He poured himself another drink. "Worse yet, a coming of age Cinemax movie where the hapless young hero gets educated in the ways of the world by the mother of the girl he likes."
"Is it because I'm younger?"
"Now you're psychoanalyzing me. That's lovely." He nodded, smirking. "That's really a turn on."
"Turn on?"
House sighed. "You remember what you said about silence being golden?" He finished his drink in one long swallow and set his glass on the bar. Gripping his cane, he moved over to the couch and sat beside her. "Let's try that again."
Cameron licked her lips, scraping her teeth across the lower one as he settled beside her and turned slightly, looking at her. "You don't think this is going to be awkward at work?"
"I think we're a little bit beyond worrying about that." He reached out and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Besides, didn't I hear you agreeing with Chase and Foreman that anything was bound to improve my bedside manner?"
"We're not in bed."
He leaned in, hand cupping the side of her head and guiding her to him. "Not yet."
**
Cameron's mouth was warm and sweet under his, her lips parted in anticipated and invitation as his tongue slipped inside, drinking something more potent than his scotch from her tongue. She moved forward, pressing against him and pushing him back against the arm of the couch. Her breasts brushed his chest, nipples hard through his shirt as he swallowed the taste of her and pulled away.
She moved again, nearly on top of him this time, initiating the kiss herself. Her hair felt like silk in his hands as he brought it down, shading her face with it as she looked down, falling around him. He broke the kiss again, taking a deep breath as he grasped her hips, holding her still, though she still seemed to undulate against him. "Not to ruin the mood..."
"Shut up, House."
"It's just that there are certain...hindrances to consider. Much as I'd love to impale you, hoist you up in the air and carrying you to my room like some sort of Viking warrior, I'd be much more likely to fall and kill us both in the most embarrassing manner possible. So maybe we should pretend we've done the part where we stumble to the bedroom undressing and move there?"
"Oh."
"Logistics are a bitch." He cleared his throat and closed his eyes; his head tilted back slightly as he reached for his cane and stood up. "I'll...I'll be in the other room. Whatever you decide."
He walked slowly, listening to her breathe, panting softly in the quiet. He ran his finger beneath his collar then unbuttoned his shirt with one hand as he walked, the quiet thump of his cane louder in the silence.
He shucked his shirt and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. He closed his eyes then shook his head, smirking to himself. He undid his tennis shoes and kicked them into the corner. There was the faint sound of music from the living room, the tinkling of keys that seemed as dissonant as the voice in his head. He finished undressing as he heard the sound of a door shutting softly. "Not always right," he whispered to himself, barely restraining the urge to throw his cane across the room.
Cameron opened the door slowly, her fair skin flushed. "I decided." She walked into the room, closing the door behind her. "Could you...?"
He nodded once and snapped on the lamp beside the bed as she turned off the overhead light. The golden glow shimmered across the satin sheen of her slip, lace edging around the rise and fall of her breasts. He cleared his throat again and swallowed. "If it helps, I stumbled a bit on my way in here."
"Me too." She moved over to the edge of the bed and sat beside him, reaching out and running the tips of her fingers along his right thigh. He tensed visibly as she traced over his skin, watching her hand rather than him. "You're tense."
He unclenched his teeth. "That's not my most erogenous zone."
"I could..." She pulled her hand away and slid back further onto the bed, getting to her knees behind him. Her hands rested on his shoulder blades, her slip feathering against his skin. She began kneading his shoulders. "Where is your most erogenous zone?"
"What would be the fun in telling you?" He closed his eyes and bent his head forward. "Besides, I don't think it's any secret that I'm from the school of discovering things for yourself."
"I don't want to hurt you."
He reached back and grabbed one of her hands, stilling her, before turning and pulling her down on his lap. "You won't." He ran his hand down her arm before letting his fingers trail back up until they reached her breast, slipping across the silk to trace her nipple. "I won't let you."
She slid off of his lap and moved back onto the bed again. He turned to follow her, stretching out beside her as she knelt on the bedspread, her hands fisting in the dark blue cover. Her eyes slid down his body, shadowed from the light behind him. "Sometimes I hate myself for wanting this."
"I'm intimately acquainted with the feeling."
She leaned into him, pushing his hip gently until he lay on his back. She inhaled the scent of soap and sweat and sex and House before looking up at him through the haze of her lashes. Her tongue darted out and swept across the head of his cock, his body tensing again in response. "Not yet."
He caught a fistful of her hair as she bent her head, her hand curving around his cock as she wrapped her mouth around it. He groaned her name, any attempt to stop her transmuted into a reflexive grasp to keep the heat and pressure surrounding him.
She pulled back, holding just the head in her mouth before taking it all again, moaning low in her throat until the reverberations shuddered their way up his spine. His hips bucked involuntarily, his hand shaking as he attempted to release the silky sheath of her hair from his grip. He failed miserably as her tongue traced the vein along the underside of his shaft, the firm pressure constricting his fist along with every other muscle in his body.
Her hand mimicked the movements of her mouth, stroking the length of him as her other hand splayed across the tangle of dark hair on his abdomen, rubbing circles on his skin. He brought his free hand up and caught another handful of hair, urging her away from him. She looked up at him, hair hanging in her face, cheeks flushed and lips full. "Wh...wh...what?"
"Now that we've actually begun this, I'd like to last all the way to the finish line." He tugged her gently, pulling her up his body. "Not that I don't appreciate the...intensity of your work."
"Are you going to mock me the entire time we're doing this?"
"Did you expect something else?" He watched as she pulled away, turning her back on him. "Come on now, Cameron. I can already hear you defending me to Foreman and Chase. 'It's a defense mechanism' and their resounding response regarding preemptive strikes. Don't tell me you expected me to be all hearts and flowers." He put one hand behind his head and reached out with the other, stroking her hair. "If you look back at my statement, I was actually mocking myself and the sad state of the male genitalia, particularly in someone my age."
"Now you're trying to be nice."
"And failing miserably." He sat up and moved behind her, his chest warm against her back. His breath fanned her hair, teased her earlobe. "I would think that I've given you graphic proof that I was enjoying myself." He swept her hair back, exposing the strap of her slip against her shoulder. Closing his eyes, he pressed a soft kiss over it before sliding his fingers beneath the fabric and tugging it gently over her shoulder. He smiled and kissed the creamy pale skin again. "Very graphic proof."
Her breath stuttered in her chest and she tilted her head away from him, exposing the length of her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed on her cheeks, dark lashes standing in high relief against the pink flush as he ran his hands up and down her arms, his lips grazing the expanse of her neck.
She licked her lips several times as he edged to the hollow beneath her ear, his tongue following the curve of her skin. Cameron shivered and turned sideways and watched him as he smiled at her, his eyes half-closed and burning. "It's warm." He moved his hands down to her slip, gathering it as she got to her knees, allowing him to strip it up off of her. He let it fall to the side then moved his hands to her thighs. "I thought they weren't an erogenous zone."
"Oddly enough, I find yours incredibly erotic."
"Oh?"
His hand slid up her thigh to the silky cream of her panties. "Not as erotic as this." He didn't look away as he traced the edge of them then slipped one finger beneath the fabric, eliciting a husky gasp from Cameron. "Or this." He slid his finger free and moved his hands up to her waist, guiding her down onto the bed. She held his gaze as he let his fingers walk over her skin and hook under the waistband once more, guiding her panties down her legs. He stopped when they were mid-thigh and raised his eyebrows. "But erotic, nonetheless."
Cameron licked her lips as he eased them further down her body before returning to lie beside her, looking down at her as his hand trailed across her stomach to the tangle of hair at the apex of her thighs. She caught her lip between her teeth as he slipped two fingers past the warm folds of skin, over the hard nub of her clit and pushed them slowly inside her, a slow, knowing smile gracing his lips.
His thumb circled her clit as his fingers thrust slowly inside her. He swallowed, bending his head to trace the shell of her ear with his tongue. "You don't think this is going to make those late nights in the lab awkward."
She groaned as he slid another finger in. "You're never in the lab."
"I meant with Chase and Foreman, wondering if you're hot for teacher." He chuckled and nipped her earlobe. "And you are hot." Cameron moaned again, her breath catching in her chest. "And wet."
"Dr...Ho...Greg." She panted softly, her hips rolling against his thrusting hand.
"And you were all gung-ho for me to end the party early," he shook his head and eased his hand away, moving over her slowly. "Wouldn't that have been a pity?" He leaned forward and she moaned, her body arching up against his. He bit back a groan of his own as he fumbled for the drawer in the bedside table, fishing through the contents until he found what he was looking for. "Pardon me while I kill the mood for a moment."
She took the packet from his hand and opened it at he straightened. She fitted the condom over his cock and rolled it down slowly, her eyes locked on his. "Not necessarily a mood killer."
"You should have been a surgeon. You work well with your hands." He pressed the tip of his cock against her. "Of course, by that logic, I should have been a prostitute." He pushed in, filling her slowly, not looking away as Cameron's body rolled in a slow arch, edging higher as he slid deeper.
He stilled, buried between her legs and she panted softly, fighting a smile. "Good to know you're not full of yourself."
"I could make a crude joke here," he informed her as he pulled back, then pushed forward in a slow, easy thrust. "But I won't."
"I appreciate that." She thrust up against him as he began moving in earnest, the golden light of the lamp playing over his features.
"Your appreciation is really what I'm going for here." He bent his arms, supporting himself on his elbows; his hands brushing her hair back from his face. His hips moved slowly, pushing inside her in hard, steady thrusts. "Because that's what I want written on the staff bathroom wall."
"I need something to tell Chase and Foreman."
His rhythm changed, speed increasing as he levered himself up onto his hands. "And the charge nurses."
"Oh yes, them too."
"Tell them," his words shortened, breath changing as he continued pushing inside her. Her hands moved over his sides and back in erratic gestures, her nails leaving faint red trails on his skin. "Tell them you really appreciated that I fucked you."
"Yeah," Cameron panted, licking her lips as her body rose to meet his stroke for stroke. "Because that doesn't make me sound pathetic at all."
"I was hoping you wouldn't notice that part."
"Why am I," she stopped, panting hard, perspiration powdering her skin, "not surprised."
House stilled, his hands fisting in the sheet beneath her as he came, the hard thrust of his orgasm driving inside her. She held her breath, her lungs aching until he exhaled, breathing shallowly, his hips moving once again. She shuddered around him, muscles clenching and convulsing as she rode the wave of her own climax, her nails digging into his thigh.
**
House collapsed against her, perspiration drying on his skin in the cool air. He winced and eased out of her, capturing the condom and then cursing softly.
"What?"
"I need you to move."
"What?"
"Move," He snapped.
Cameron sat up, edging toward the headboard as House managed to ease onto his back, stretching out his leg. "Oh."
"Not used to the activity, I guess." He slipped the condom off and rolled over to toss it in the trashcan. "Good to know."
"Maybe you need to do it more often."
"Maybe I need to not do it again and let the fucker atrophy completely." He reached for the bottle of Vicodin on his dresser and popped two of the pills, swallowing them dry.
"Wow. And I was worried there wouldn't be an afterglow." She sat up and grabbed her slip. "Who knew you were such a sweet-talking devil."
He reached out, though his body remained still. "Cameron."
"What? Did you want to whisper sweet nothings in my ear?"
"No." He looked at her. "I want to know why you expected them."
"Because I'm an idiot."
"But you're not an idiot." He sat up and reached for his boxers, pulling them on. He grabbed his cane and turned to face her. "So what's the matter?"
"I don't know. I don't know what I expected. But I expected something."
"I'm not the man who's going to give you something."
She walked to the bedroom door and opened it, looking back at him. "Because you won't? Or because you can't?"
"Does it matter?"
Her eyes glistened in the dim light as she lifted her chin defiantly, though her words came out in a ragged whisper. "I guess not."
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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