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Bored Meeting
by phineyj
She was going to make him pay, and pay big, for that. Cameron fumed, inwardly, as House's most recent remark hung uneasily in the dry air of the PPTH board room. On being asked what her role was in his team, he had replied," eye candy, mostly." Cuddy sighed loudly, glared at him, glanced apologetically at Richard, the auditor and said, "Moving on..."
Cameron wouldn't have even been at this incredibly boring finance meeting, if Foreman and Chase hadn't suddenly, conveniently found urgent things they needed to do right away. The first she'd known about it was when Cuddy had found her in the clinic that morning and said, "Cameron, you'll be happy to attend an audit meeting later on, won't you?" in a tone that suggested resistance was futile.
She wasn't sure what means Cuddy had used to ensure House's presence - like he could care less how much his department was overspent by - but Cameron had a sneaking suspicion it might mean she was covering a lot more of his clinic hours next week.
They'd started dating just over three months ago, and it was going surprisingly well, outside work hours at least. But once in the hospital, his behavior to her was as impossible as ever, and she didn't dare retaliate too much. Foreman was giving them both meaningful looks, as it was.
And to make things worse today, they'd been making the best use of the time available before the alarm clock went off...Cameron shivered as she was suddenly struck by a powerful sense memory of exactly how good it had felt at six this morning, kneeling over House's face, being held open by his strong hands on her thighs as he sucked on her clit. She'd been clutching onto the headboard with sweaty palms, trying not to think about whether the noise she was making was going to rouse his neighbors, when...House got a page summoning him to the hospital as soon as possible.
The noise of rustling paper roused Cameron from her daydream. She watched House making a paper airplane out of his budget spreadsheet and an idea struck her. Cuddy was still talking...restricted funds...blah...wastage... blah...overuse of MRI machine...while the auditor, a mousy little man with a neatly trimmed beard nodded and made notes on his clipboard. House finished the plane, glanced thoughtfully from it, to Cuddy, and then left it where it was, picking up his cup of coffee instead.
Cameron slid as far forward as she could on the slippery leather covered chair and kicked her shoes off as quietly as possible. They fell onto the carpet with a soft thump. Cautiously, she stretched her right leg out as far as it would go under the table and reached her foot forward until it connected with a warm, solid mass. The reaction was pleasing. House choked on his drink, spluttering drops onto the pristine white pages in front of him. Cuddy paused in her delivery and glanced over at him, shaking her head impatiently - he said "sorry," in pretty much his usual tone, and looked back down at his papers. She continued.
Meanwhile, Cameron located her intended target, and started to circle her big toe. House shot her a look of pure blue-eyed evil, and said, "Dr Cuddy, Dr Cameron was just saying this morning that she had some ideas as to how we could completely overhaul our billing procedures." Nice try, House, Cameron thought. She had read the budget papers over lunch in case called upon in the meeting, and felt quite up to expanding on the topic. And she was very good at multi tasking.
Cameron continued to curl her toes around House's cock, through his jeans, as she explained her ideas; Cuddy seemed quite pleased with her - and House was getting very hard indeed and beginning to look ever so slightly distressed. Cameron added, innocently, "And Dr House mentioned an idea about cost control for the clinic nursing schedules." Cuddy looked extremely dubious but turned to him, and said, "Do go on."
House made up some complete bullshit. Cameron was entertained to notice that his voice was getting noticeably strained and his eyes were bugging out a little. She increased the pressure, which made him start to cough. The next thing she knew, he'd knocked his coffee over and a small lake of liquid started to soak into the polished wood table. This gave him an excuse to push his chair back, and look around ineffectually for help, while he adjusted himself.
"Oh, for goodness' sake!" cried Cuddy, producing a packet of tissues from her bag and flinging them at House, hitting him on the nose. "I'm so sorry," he said, in his best humble tone, "my reflexes are a little off today; cripple, you know." He shot Cameron a sly, triumphant look. As far as she had observed, his hand-eye co-ordination was as good as anyone's she'd ever known.
"Right, well, if you've quite finished, Dr House," said Cuddy, sounding exasperated, "perhaps we might continue? If that's not too much trouble?" Cameron looked down at her papers and pretended to take notes. She had written a couple of words when she felt a sensation that made her squeak and trail her pen down the page. That something felt a lot like....the rubber ferrule on the end of a cane, making its way up her stocking-clad thigh.
`Sorry, paper cut," she apologized, as Cuddy gave her a funny look, and House smirked. The cane continued to travel north up her leg. Cameron shifted a little in her seat, considering her options. She could shove her chair back, or change seats. But she wouldn't put it past House to draw attention to her in some really embarrassing way. She didn't care what the auditor thought of her; with luck, she would never see him again. But she didn't want Cuddy to think she was an idiot. Besides, she was beginning to feel distinctly turned on.
The cane tip arrived in the centre of her panties and started to swivel from side to side. Cameron pushed against it; she couldn't help herself. Her nipples were rubbing painfully against her lab coat and she pulled it closer around her. House was watching her intently from beneath lowered lashes and she just knew what he was thinking. Build up of neuro-muscular tension, check. Increase in heart rate and blood pressure and quickening of breathing, check. Flush spreading over face and neck, yup.
Oops. Cuddy had just asked her a question. Something to do with expense codes. She looked over at House for a clue, but all she got was an infinitesimal shrug.
"Umm, could you clarify that for me?" Cameron said, weakly. House wasn't letting up the pressure, and her voice had come out sounding breathy and unlike its normal self. She could feel a trickle of sweat making its way down her back in between her bra and her blouse. Her world was diminishing to one bounded solely by the intruder between her legs, her death grip on the edge of the table and the contact of her sore nipples against her white coat.
"Richard asked, do either of you actually know what departmental expense codes are?" said Cuddy, sounding exasperated. Her voice seemed to be coming from a long distance.
Cameron made a supreme effort to concentrate. She thought back to the days before she and House were together, when she had pretended - quite successfully, she thought - that his presence behind her in the lab or brushing past her desk in the Diagnostics office had no physical effect on her whatever. Unfortunately, that also reminded her of how, afterwards, she used to have to invent excuses to run to the women's bathroom and bring herself off.
Right now, she was getting desperate. She didn't think she could keep quiet much longer, and was just contemplating paging herself and running out the door, when the auditor's phone rang. He had the volume turned all the way up, and the room resounded for a few seconds to the grating I've got a Nokia and no imagination tune. House saw his chance, took it, and all at once Cameron was coming, hard, riding the waves of her climax, while biting her tongue to suppress the sounds she wanted to make.
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Cameron stormed out of the board room, papers clutched to her chest, head held high and cheeks and neck flushed crimson. Behind her, House got slowly to his feet, a tiny smile playing around the corners of his mouth. Cuddy gave him a long, considering stare, and then turned back to the auditor.
Cameron walked briskly along the corridor, not quite sure where she was heading, apart from someplace far, far away from the board room. She checked her watch and saw it was nearly five o'clock. That was it, she was going home. She was going to take a long bath, watch mindless TV and try to forget today ever happened. Those stockings were going in the trash. And unless House was exceptionally nice to her for the rest of the week, his cane was getting shoved somewhere the sun didn't shine.
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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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