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"Get your coat, you're coming with me."
House ducks his head into the women's locker room to address Cameron, and inadvertently a perturbed-looking nurse in the middle of tying back her hair. Rolling her eyes, the brunette forgoes changing out of her thick winter sweater in favour of the smarter option neatly folded inside her locker and pulls her coat back on. Checking that she has her phone and keys inside her pocket, she hurries out into the hall to fall into step behind House.
"Where are we going?"
She asks the back of his head dubiously.
"We're off on a Christmas adventure, little one."
"No."
"No?"
"No, I'm not loving the nickname."
"You never do."
"Hm. I wonder why that might be?"
"Because you're far too touchy and high-maintenance?"
"I am not."
"Not in a good way, no."
"House..."
"Alright, you're not high-maintenance. You're actually more of a doormat if anything... But you are touchy."
House shrugs as he leads them towards the elevator. Pressing the button with little concern for the fact that Cameron glares at him, he steps into the car when it arrives and beckons for the brunette to do the same.
"Where are we going?"
She tries again, watching as he sends them down to ground level.
"The results came back from the tests we ran last night, and I decided to look them over while you were out mucking around."
"I'm early! My shift doesn't start for another twenty minutes."
"As I said; mucking around. Bloods indicate substance abuse, as we suspected, but the patient claims otherwise. The tests also indicate that it's whatever has been used to cut the guy's funny-yummies that's causing the reaction we're seeing, and, as he's refusing to talk, you and I are going on a little recognisance mission."
"Wait, what?"
"We're going to go and find his stash and figure out what extra-special ingredient has been added to the batch. Then, we're going give him a firm talking to and a gentle spanking for being such a naughty boy. I'll leave that part up to you."
"We can't just break into the guy's house to snoop, House!"
"Why do you say that like it's ever stopped me before?"
"Because I live in eternal hope that one day you'll actually listen to me!"
Cameron exclaims, shivering as they step out into the cold.
"Hm. I know you're naive, but you need to stop being naive out loud."
House scolds, relishing the brunette's annoyance as she follows him down the salted path created between thick veils of dirty snow. Leading them into the car park, he makes his way down the row to where he knows she'll have parked; Cameron a creature of habit in a way he vehemently refuses to acknowledge lends him a queer sense of comfort.
"Open up, I don't want to lose any appendages to frostbite."
He orders, nodding towards her old Ford. Unlocking the car with a sigh, Cameron slips behind the wheel and starts the engine; cranking up the heat as she waits for the windscreen to clear.
"I hate driving in this weather."
She grumbles as House climbs into the seat next to her and rests his cane against the dashboard.
"Well, we can take my bike if you'd rather drive with your legs wrapped around me?"
"I'd rather live, thanks."
The brunette shakes her head, holding her hands out over the heating vents in a bid to get some feeling back into her fingers.
"And the other part?... Are you blushing, Dr Cameron?"
"No, I'm just cold."
She snaps, shooting House an irritable glance as he smirks at her.
"See. Touchy."
He grins, earning himself a deep sigh in response.
"Why didn't you ask Chase or Foreman to go with you? Why did I get the short straw?"
"You were the first one in."
"So why am I being punished?!"
"Lighten up, I'm offering you a road trip. An adventure!"
"No, you're offering me the possibility of getting into trouble, pneumonia, and listening to you moan at me for however long this takes."
"Ouch! Your words hurt, Cameron. You used to jump at the opportunity to spend some alone time with me. What happened?"
"Simple. I actually spent alone time with you."
Cameron mutters, reversing out of the parking space and driving towards the exit.
"Where are we going, anyway?"
"Here."
House pulls a library card swiped from their patient's wallet out of his pocket and hands it over.
"You're joking?!... That's towards Franklin, that's over an hour away!"
"Cameron, the patient needs us. Have a heart."
House scolds while theatrically clutching a hand over his own.
"The patient does not need us breaking into his house and looking through his stuff when we could just run additional tests back at the lab. You just want an excuse to fool around."
"Oh? Are you offering?"
"You- I-... Not in that way... You knew exactly what I meant."
"I did."
House agrees pleasantly, watching as the brunette waits for a couple of cars to pass before pulling carefully out onto the road.
"Typical."
He mutters, earning himself a frown of confusion before Cameron imagines she knows what he's referring to.
"Sorry, but I kind of want to finish this completely senseless trip in one piece. You could have just gone on your own, you know? No one forced you to bring me along."
"I know, that's what's typical."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you've done nothing but bitch at me about how resolutely you disagree with my plan since getting in the car, but you're still driving. Still doing as you're told... Typical."
House repeats, waiting to see if his observation will be met with a predictably irritable response, before hiding a smile when the brunette simply offers him ice-cold silence.
"I was sort of hoping to get there before I die of old age..."
House grumbles, but he does so more out of habit than out of spite. The bleak grey of the sky is swiftly turning a bruised indigo, broken up by the branches of the steadily thickening row of trees that lines the road. The weather has only worsened since they first set off, and the asphalt glitters with patches of ice and pale swathes of packed snow down the centre. Cameron drives with her knuckles blanched white as she grips the steering wheel, and House imagines the only reason she hasn't insisted that they turn back is that they've come too far.
"So was I."
She hisses, her jaw visibly clenched as she pushes just a little harder on the gas before hastily easing up again as the car veers warningly to one side.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."
She mutters under her breath, and House adopts a smirk as it has always amused him when the brunette uses crass language - finding it wonderfully out of character - but it's a stained expression all the same as he suffers a hint of guilt for dragging her out here.
The weather was nowhere near this bad in the city...
No, but he'd known that would be the case, he just hadn't cared. He'd seen an opportunity to add a little excitement to what was promising to be a boring day and had run with it. He's just uncomfortably aware that when he runs, the brunette will invariably follow, not because she's as soft as he likes to loudly profess, but because he'll make her life an absolute misery if she denies him what he wants.
So? Then, she needs to toughen up. The others would have refused to play along if I'd come to them instead.
Frowning as he's all too aware that this is exactly why he tends to corner Cameron, he supposes he has more in the way of ammunition when it comes to bullying the brunette and is actually privately surprised that she hasn't slapped him during the course of their relationship.
"Why haven't they salted out here?"
He frowns, shooting daggers at the thickening patches of compacted snow.
"Because we're in the middle of nowhere..."
Cameron mutters, dimly aware that her thighs and backside are starting to ache due to her tense posture, but she decides she's too annoyed with her unruly mentor to share this fact with the grim amusement she usually might.
Well, I don't think you'd usually mention your ass within earshot of House, let's be honest...
"What?"
House demands as the brunette lets out a soft expulsion of air.
"Nothing."
She shakes her head, gritting her teeth as they pass a road sign indicating that they have a further seven miles until they reach their destination.
"Did you at least take the patient's keys as well as his library card?"
She asks, turning on the wipers as snow begins to pepper the windscreen.
"If I'd done that, how would you continue on your journey to becoming ever so slightly cool?"
"Mm, because it's cool getting arrested?"
"Very. And we're doctors, we're just following up on a lead. It will be fine."
"Yeah, I really don't think that's how the law actually works. I think-"
But Cameron's irritation is replaced with a yelp as the car suddenly fishtails out of her control; cresting the verge of snow to the side of the road and sliding down a shallow bank to come to a stop less than two feet from colliding with a large pine tree.
"Shit!"
"Shit..."
House agrees, visibly shaken. He considers instructing the brunette to try reversing back onto the road but soon realises that any attempt to move will only drive them further into the snow.
"Fuck!"
He grunts irritably, before glancing up distractedly when Cameron argues
"I was being careful! I can't help that it's fucking lethal out here..."
Raising a brow as he detects a definite note of defensiveness in her tone, House shakes his head and concedes gruffly
"It was an idiotic idea in the first place. That's on me, not you."
Before going back to glaring angrily at their unfortunate surroundings as though his annoyance might somehow force circumstances to change.
"... I could have said no."
Cameron reasons eventually, offering a small shrug when House points out that she'd in fact said no several times.
"I did, but I still went along with it... Typical."
She repeats House's previous insult to her character glumly.
"Reliable."
House corrects her, pulling his phone out of his pocket while pretending not to notice that she studies him intently.
"Fuck, there's no service."
He growls, feeling his frustration swiftly build when the brunette discovers that she fairs no better.
"What do we do?"
She asks, turning off the car's engine reluctantly as she accepts that running it will do them little good.
"I don't know."
House mutters, and it's on the tip of his tongue to snap at her for expecting him to provide a solution before she reaches out and opens the driver's side door.
"What are you doing?"
He frowns, before stepping swiftly out of the car when she disappears from view.
"Cameron! What are you doing?"
He repeats, wincing at the raw bite of the icy wind.
"I'm getting the hazard sign out of the trunk to put out on the road."
"We're no longer on the road!"
"I know, but I don't want to stand around in the dark waiting to get hit by a car. I'll put this out so people can see where we are."
The brunette points out, grabbing the warning triangle from the back of the car and climbing up the snowy bank with some difficulty. House frowns as he watches her go, trying to estimate how many cars they've come across in the last twenty minutes since leaving the city with a mounting sense of unease.
"You can't just stand around in the snow."
He argues as he grabs his cane, eyeing the snowy incline dubiously before looking up with a frown when she offers him her hand.
"Well, one of us has to, I don't know what else you want me to suggest. You can wait in the car if you want?"
She tags on when her outstretched hand remains ignored.
"I'm not leaving you standing on the side of the road in the dark."
House shakes his head, finally accepting her offer to help him up the bank with a sense of obscene awkwardness as he grips her fingers.
Enough with that! How long has it been? Surely you're past feeding into whatever doomed flame she once forced between you?
Gritting his teeth and letting go of the brunette's hand the second he trusts his balance, he leans on his cane and offers her a wary glance, watching as several fat snowflakes settle over her dark curls; only just visible in the dwindling light.
"We can't just stand out here in the cold."
He repeats uneasily, looking down and noting with some concern that the brunette is only wearing sneakers.
Idiot...
Except, not really, as he hadn't exactly warned her to dress appropriately for their less-than-legal excursion.
"What do you suggest, then?"
Cameron counters, trying her best to hide the fact that her teeth are chattering as she tugs the sleeves of her coat down over her fists.
"There were other places listed on the sign we passed back there. One was less than a mile away. I doubt it will be much more than a gas station and a church out here, but someone should at least have a phone. If we see a car on the way, we'll flag them down."
House reasons, grossly unenthused by his own suggestion, but he's not sure what other option they have, and he doesn't figure that standing still in the freezing cold will do either of them any good. Of course, if they walk to find help, his leg will do what it always does in frigid weather and cause him a world of pain, meaning that Cameron will do what she always does and drive him crazy with her unwanted concern, but he supposes he'll just have to deal with it.
With her.
"What?"
She asks when House chuckles gruffly.
"Nothing. I just can't believe I'm stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with you of all people."
"Mm, I'm just as thrilled about it as you are by the sound of things."
The brunette sighs, accepting that House's suggestion might prove the lesser of two evils as they begin making their way carefully down the icy stretch of road towards what she desperately hopes is a town.
"Well, of course you're thrilled... Fresh snow beneath the stars. Scenic seclusion. This is all very romantic."
House teases, relishing the withering look Cameron shoots him gleefully.
"Um, no... And, if this is your idea of romance, it's all the more clear why you're single."
"So, what's your excuse, then?"
House grins, but the expression falters slightly when Cameron refuses him an answer and simply carries on walking with her head bowed.
"The others will be wondering where the hell we've gone."
She speaks up finally, and House sighs as he disagrees
"Doubtful. If they're not as woefully stupid as I often fear, they'll have done as you suggested would be wise and run further tests. Beyond identifying the mysterious addition to our patient's bad decisions, it's a simple case. We know what we're looking for and why we're looking for it, we just need a name, and then he's someone else's problem. After that, you're booked off for a couple of days along with Foreman, and Chase is on call. They'll just presume we bunked off early."
"Mm. Maybe they'd presume you would do that..."
Cameron replies in a clipped tone, aware that she's simply setting herself up for further ridicule by expressing what they both know to be the truth; that the others would never consider her capable of such irresponsible behaviour. House smirks in response, before shrugging his shoulders.
"Or, who knows, maybe they'll think we're shacked up somewhere getting into the Christmas spirit; sweaty, naked, writhing-"
"-Please stop."
The brunette sighs, before confiding huskily into the folds of her scarf
"Right now, I can't imagine ever getting naked again!"
"That's alright, I'll imagine it for you."
House teases, chuckling appreciatively when Cameron mutters that he can go ahead and knock himself out.
"It's what Cuddy thinks you should be worried about, anyway."
She points out, privately wondering how it can be possible for her feet to be so numb yet so excruciatingly painful.
"Well, she does keep telling me I need to be nicer to you lot. If that includes body-shots and the exploration of our wildest fantasies, so be it."
"I really don't think Cuddy would either presume or condone the prospect of us fucking."
Cameron muses, nipping her tongue when House greets this statement with a small stumble and involuntary hiss.
"Careful."
She warns sweetly, looking resolutely ahead as she can feel him staring at her.
"Mm. Who says I was talking about you, anyway? Maybe Chase is the one I want to get liquored up and share some special employee/boss alone time with?"
"Lucky Chase."
The brunette replies simply, aware that her cheeks are burning but doubting House can see as they trudge through the dark in a way that's almost companionable.
"It's probably going to be late by the time we finally get back."
House speaks up reluctantly, and Cameron nods in agreement as she shrugs
"Probably, but if we get back alive and without catching hypothermia, I'd say we'll have done well."
"That's rather dramatic."
"Maybe. Maybe we should be walking the other way."
She counters, and House rolls his eyes while ordering her gruffly to stop killing the mood, plunging them back into silence.
"...Sorry."
He offers finally, and she raises a brow, glancing at him curiously.
"Sorry?"
"You were only booked in for a half-shift today."
"I was."
"It's Christmas Eve."
"It is."
"What, uh-... What were you supposed to be doing after work?"
House asks awkwardly; unsure whether he's actually ever bothered asking her about her plans before when not doing so in hopes of teasing her.
"Not much. I told Foreman I'd meet him for a drink if we finished up around the same time, and then I was going to go home and work on my paper."
"Wait, you booked time off work to do more work?!"
"I didn't book it off for anything. I had the hours to spend, and Cuddy told me I couldn't carry them over to next year or refuse them."
"So, you're not doing anything for Christmas?"
"Your tone's a little rich for someone that's not doing anything either."
Cameron frowns, and House splays his palms; shuffling just a little faster as a glow of light beckons them from beyond the treeline.
"Don't you want to go and spend time with your family?"
"Don't you?"
She counters boldly, and House shakes his head, admitting pensively
"You never really talk about family... Or your friends from outside of work. Or anything, really."
"Mm. Maybe that's by design."
The brunette suggests silkily, and House offers her a stern look, before letting the matter lie.
Well. Almost.
"You were really going to use this time to work, though?"
"Well, with wine."
Cameron grins, elaborating a little less testily
"Honestly, I was just going to decompress for a couple of days. I'm not too bothered about all the festive stuff, but it's not all bad. The lights across the street from my apartment are pretty, there's a decent selection of movies on TV for once, and come the day after tomorrow, all the fancy chocolates and party food will be on sale at a discount."
"Really? You're going to go buy a crapload of chocolate?"
House asks, sounding fairly unconvinced, and the brunette chuckles as she points out
"I never said a crapload, but yeah, I'll get some. Of course, Christmas itself will be very traditional."
"Turkey?"
"Chinese take-out."
"Hm."
"What? Why's that tone back again?"
"No tone. It would just appear that we're rather more similar than I'd care to admit. It's unsettling."
"Sorry."
Cameron shrugs, before throwing her head back and exclaiming
"Yes!"
In a way House fails to convince himself doesn't invite a reaction low in his stomach.
Certainly not a pleasurable one.
"Finally!"
The brunette elaborates as she gestures towards a small collection of buildings up ahead, and House nods in agreement, matching her stride as she quickens her pace; privately certain that chooses her speed based on his abilities.
"Well, the good news is they'll tow the car back onto the road and that should be all that needs doing as I don't think there was any damage."
"What's the bad news?"
House asks dubiously, watching as the brunette falls into the chair opposite his own beside the fire in the all-but-deserted bar they've chosen to dethaw in.
"The bad news is I'm not driving any further through the woods in this weather, and it's only supposed to snow heavier for the next five hours."
"So, what do we do?"
"I mean, I guess we stay here... There's a room upstairs. The guy behind the bar says they usually have a lodger that helps out over summer and fall when it gets busier, but off-season this is a bed and breakfast. Minus the breakfast, as he said, and I quote, 'bear in mind it's fucking Christmas, girlie'."
"Girlie."
"Mm. So?"
"When you say there's a room..."
"It's what I mean: there's one room. And, yeah, that's fantastically awkward given our history and whatever, but we're both adults, and it beats sleeping in the car."
Cameron reasons primly.
"Wait, we have a history?"
House raises a brow, teasing the brunette to alleviate his own sense of discomfort.
"I-... Sort of? I just meant the whole me telling you I used to like you thing, and-"
"-And you blackmailing me into taking you on a date due to being hopelessly in love with me, threatening both your position and mine, only for nothing to come of it? That old thing?"
House scoffs, feeling momentarily guilty when Cameron winces at his mocking words before she throws him off by biting back waspishly
"Yes, well, whose fault was that?"
"... That's really our only option?"
He asks in a less jocular tone, swallowing as he looks away from the brunette's green stare; experiencing that old, familiar sense of wanting he had publically denied her for fear that things might end horribly.
Well, you bullied her into driving head-first into undisputable danger that could have ended with the two of you being ejected through her windscreen. How much more horribly could things go?
"It's the option I'm taking. You can call around for a hire car, or some maniac crazy enough to drive you home, but I'm done for the day and I'm staying put."
Cameron advises, and House bristles as he's not sure whether she's simply ignoring the heavy tension between them, or whether she's oblivious to it as her expression suggests.
She's never oblivious, not when it comes to the two of us...
"Well... I guess we're spending the holidays together, then."
House sighs, rubbing his scruff uneasily, and the brunette offers him a bemused glower before breaking into a grin and confiding defeatedly
"Looks that way... I finally have some service. Chase says they've figured it out and the patient's due to be discharged tomorrow. It's a Christmas miracle... He also thinks our impending unwilling sleepover is hilarious. Foreman, too."
"Is that so?"
"Mm. I told them where they could stick it."
Cameron shrugs, and House shakes his head, feigning annoyance, before pointing towards the bar.
"Shall we? As we're here?"
"I don't have my wallet."
"Convenient."
"Hey! I didn't bank on you kidnapping me and forcing me to drive us into the woods!"
"Since when did reckless driving become forceful kidnap?"
House rolls his eyes, pushing himself up out of his chair and grabbing his cane. When the brunette simply splays her palms, he teases her crudely
"Or maybe that's just wishful thinking on your part? A little rough and tumble? A little roleplay?"
He bares his teeth suggestively, ignoring his body's reactions to his crass insinuations adamantly.
At least he tries to.
Watching as the brunette's cheeks flush a dull scarlet, he wonders if he should assure her he's only messing with her - fucking with her... Shit, no, can't word it that way! - when she surprises him with a flash of her own teeth, her voice unnervingly calm.
"Sure, if you want to roleplay as a guy buying me a drink."
"Wild..."
House scoffs, turning away before her lack of stammering and mortified outrage can intrigue him further.
"Shall we take these up with us?"
Cameron points to the glasses of wine half-empty on the table between them before looking pointedly back at the bar where the elderly man in charge flicks through a newspaper with an occasional glance in their direction; the place otherwise dead.
"Let's ask for another bottle in that case."
"House..."
"What? We're not driving."
"I know, but..."
"Look, Cameron, if after another glass or two, you find yourself suddenly incapable of keeping your hands to yourself, I'll be a gentleman, I promise."
"Oh, please."
The brunette shakes her head, gesturing dismissively that House should go and order whatever he wants while trusting that the glow of the fire will mask the heat she can feel creeping across her cheeks.
Any heat is good heat!
Indeed, and since taking up their seats in the deserted bar, she's warmed up considerably; now clad in just her sweater and slacks, with her coat and shoes arranged over a stool close to the fire in a bid to dry them out.
"Here. Mr Scrooge is going to show you to our room. I'll be up in a second."
House advises, handing the brunette a bottle of merlot before limping in the direction of the bathroom. Smiling politely at the old man that shuffles over and offers to lend her a hand carrying their drinks, Cameron grabs her things and follows him up a narrow set of stairs to a cosy loft room.
"Wood's next to the hearth. Towels in the en suite are clean. Settle up with my wife in the morning. Merry Christmas."
The man tags on gruffly, and Cameron checks her phone and sees that he's right. It's just gone midnight.
How long were we sat downstairs?
She frowns pensively, supposing it must have been several hours with a sense of surprise.
After all, it had been nice. Pleasant.
Romantic.
She wrinkles her nose at the term House had used to tease her earlier; looking around the small room and supposing it does offer a sense of charm. Brushing the notion hastily away, she makes herself useful by stacking kindling into a conical shape in the empty hearth; nursing the flames patiently before adding one of the larger cuts of wood from a metal basket to the side. She hopes House won't make a stupid comment about her setting the mood when he comes in, but imagines he probably will.
Definitely will.
She sighs, placing the unopened merlot on the mantle above the hearth to warm through and taking her glass over to the bed to perch on top of the covers.
House studies his reflection shrewdly as he washes his hands in the bathroom next to the bar. Several attempts at crude graffiti decorate the corner of the mirror, none of them legible. Otherwise, the place is relatively clean as far as bathrooms go, and he imagines the bar sees little traffic for the better part of the year, save for the locals inhabiting the dozen or so houses they'd spied when they'd walked up what had seemed to pass for the main street.
Turning around to head upstairs and find his bedroom for the night, he stills, considering the machine mounted on the wall beside a geriatric hand dryer.
Telling himself it's pointless; that it has nothing to do with tonight, with his current company, with the situation, and that he's merely making sure not to be caught short in future, he inserts a dollar.
"Fuck..."
House sighs as he closes the door to the bedroom behind him, looking at Cameron before looking away.
"Well, it's nice to see you, too."
She replies, nodding towards his half-empty glass on the nightstand.
"Sorry, it's just been quite some time since I walked in on a woman sitting on my bed awaiting my presence with the offer of wine and an open fire."
"Same."
The brunette jokes, grinning when House studies her intently. Knowing she's toying with him and enjoying herself a little too brazenly for his liking, House snatches back the upper hand and elaborates on his previous statement.
"Of course, when that woman is you, it's just plain wrong."
"Yeah. Well. Sorry, but that's what's on offer."
Cameron shrugs, and House knows her far too well to believe the cool disinterest she injects into her tone. Supposing it was a cheap shot and rather uncalled for given that she could have chosen to react to their current set of circumstances far less amiably than she has done, he takes a sip of his wine and takes a seat on the bed; leaning against the headboard with a tug to the corner of his mouth when Cameron shuffles further to the very edge of her side, putting herself in danger of falling off the mattress entirely.
"Still. It could be a hell of a lot worse."
He opines pleasantly.
"Gee, thanks."
"You're welcome."
House grins, watching the brunette's throat as she drinks.
"... It's actually a nice enough room when you think about where we could have ended up."
Cameron muses, feeling hellishly awkward as, with each movement House makes, the mattress dips a little in a way that feels bizarrely intimate.
"Can't fault the scenery."
House agrees, keeping his attention fixed on the brunette as she glances up at him uncertainly, trying to decide if she should read between the lines.
Trying to decide if there were any lines intended!
"Better than sleeping in the car."
She replies in a bid to keep her response neutral, but she supposes she needn't have bothered when House winks at her and muses in a purposefully lecherous tone
"Perhaps. Although things might have gotten exciting if it had come to sharing body heat."
Rolling her eyes, Cameron considers her wine with her brow furrowed, before speaking up bluntly
"You know, half the time I can't tell whether you're just terrible at flirting, or a truly dedicated asshole."
"Really? You think that's flirting?"
House scoffs, feeling his stomach flip when the brunette simply stares him down.
"Is it?"
"... I'm messing with you. You know I like to do that."
"So you're an asshole?"
She persists, and House gets up to freshen his glass and avoid her gaze.
For someone so sweet, she can be hellishly intimidating when she wants to be...
He sighs as he pours himself a generous helping of Merlot, knowing that it's one of the many things he likes about her.
"It has been said."
He agrees, unsure whether it's a wise move to reclaim his spot beside her on the bed just now, and so instead standing rather awkwardly in the centre of the room.
"Rarely by me."
Cameron points out, and House shrugs as he struggles for an answer.
"You don't tend to use that kind of language."
He reasons lamely, and the brunette shakes her head with a snort of derision and bites back easily
"You can be an asshole, House, and it fucks me off royally. Still, I try and convince myself there's more to it. To us. Not in the lovestruck way you make fun of me for, more just idle fantasy. I wish that wasn't the case - that I found you the unbearable bastard you seem to take pleasure in pretending to be - but nobody's perfect, and I guess we're both at fault in how we butt heads. Some of that's the job. You're my boss, and while I actually highly doubt that you'd ever come at me with disciplinary action, I know damn well you can make my life hell without involving HR. I mind myself. I like my job, and I am, for the most part, a fairly nice and polite person. That would sound arrogant if I was saying it with the belief that either of us sees that as a positive thing. We're both at fault because, as you told me while instructing me to get in the car and drive you around on this fucking foolish errand, I let you walk all over me. Because I like you. I like you in a nice way, as a person, much as that might seem strange to you and to most people that know you, and I like you in a fucked up way I wish I didn't. In a way where maybe I wouldn't necessarily mind the disciplinary action you might dole out if I spoke up and fought back if you would just pull your fucking head out of your ass and make up your mind about what it is that you mean when you claim I drive you crazy. You mocked me earlier when I said we have a history, but we do. The reason it's so fucking uncomfortable and brief is because you couldn't just grow a pair and be real with me for two seconds without getting defensive and cruel... Normally, I would feel bad about saying that. It's sexist and crass, but fuck me if doesn't ring true for you sometimes! You tease me for being so innocent, so nice, so dull and whatever else, because it makes me pathetic, it makes me the mess, rather than just admitting that you can be a coward."
Cameron nibbles her bottom lip as she waits to see what reaction her irritation will be met with; knowing she's picked a pretty foolish time to be blunt when literally trapped in a room with the object of her frustration, but she doesn't regret a word and so simply falls silent, refusing to look away when House raises his eyes to hold her gaze.
"... I don't think you're pathetic or especially dull. You don't like conflict, and that can sometimes mean you're easily led, and you never come into work with stories of wild nights full of sin and sapphic exploration... That latter part saddens me, admittedly, but I'd find you much harder to relate to if you were living the wild life out of hours I like to tease you for not having. I make comments about your preference for keeping the peace and maintaining a quiet life because I like watching you get flustered over something so trivial. You act as though those comments aren't coming from a man that enjoys playing the piano and taking a bath when he gets home. As though I'd have a leg, bad or good, to stand on... People don't tend to find me appealing, and I've worked hard to keep it that way. I'm sure it's all very juicy and interesting why that might be, but I've never cared to pick the fact apart as it works for me. Maybe not in a good way, or a healthy way, but in a manageable way... You like me. You have done ever since I took you on, and I could never understand why. I like puzzles, so, initially, I pushed back. I tried to steer our relationship in a more familiar direction. I tried to break you. Not purposefully, and it took me a while to realise that was what I was doing, but you... You played dirty. Not only did you refuse to crack and show me your true colours and give me the satisfaction of being just like everybody else, you were fucking nice about it. Not dull, not pathetic, just nice. I slowly came to realise that it wasn't a facade, but that you were actually just this utterly unhinged person that's just as fucked up as I am. I realised that you wanted me to praise you for your effort and your work because you wanted to do a good job. Genuinely. You weren't looking to screw the others over. You weren't acting as though you were interested in me to leverage anything. You actually liked me, and I couldn't make sense of it. I still can't make sense of it. Not the part I tease you for."
House confides, trying to decide whether to find solace in the fact that the brunette appears to have relaxed a little - leant back against the headboard - or whether this inviting change in position is just serving to give him a headache. Raising his hands in defeat, he uses his silence to push for an answer, unsure what to expect, but supposing the matter-of-fact quality to her tone when she opens up shouldn't really surprise him at this point, yet, as always, it still does.
"Look, half the people out there don't like certain aspects of their personality or appearance. Maybe more. The rest seem enviably more secure, and then there's some that I worry about once we figure out the whole cloning thing as they take self-love to an openly conceited level. You might not get why I like you, but that doesn't mean the fact that I do is this unspeakably obscure and messed-up decision on my part. What pissed me off so much when we went out for dinner that night was that you made it sound like I was just pitying you. I mean, a lot pissed me off that night, but you acted as though my sexual desire fell into some kind of nurture play and self-sacrificing kink. You refused to believe that I might think differently about you than you do about yourself, and I was so fucking thrown by how the conversation went south out of nowhere that I just let you tell me I was all of these things and felt terrible about it... I didn't want or plan any of the things you convinced yourself about that night, House. I wanted sex. Maybe not on the first date, but it's not as though we were strangers rushing into anything so I hadn't completely discounted the possibility, either... I wanted to fuck you. Not fix you. Fuck you."
Cameron shrugs, holding out her hand as she imparts this fact simply, and House blinks at her uncertainly before handing over the wine. Watching as she pours herself a glass, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed and tries to gather his thoughts. Her bluntness both startles and intrigues him, and he can feel a warm knot of arousal building in his gut as he studies her intently. Clearing his throat, he admits cautiously
"...I do flirt with you sometimes."
"Badly."
The brunette piles on silkily, but House doesn't miss the small tug to the side of her mouth as she says it. Still, he's not sure what more to say - rather stunned by the turn of conversation - and when he fails to add anything else to the matter, Cameron sighs deeply and calls him out.
"Okay, here's the deal. There's about a half-glass each left in this bottle, and when that's gone, it won't be long before we awkwardly start implying it might be time to call in a night. This whole thing was unplanned and neither of us has anything with them, so I figure we have two options. Either we can lie stiffly on opposite sides of the bed in our jeans and slacks and hope neither of us ventures anywhere near the other while sleeping, or we quit vaguely discussing what we could be doing and just do it. I'm honestly fine either way so long as it's not thrown back in my face, so you need to think while you pour yourself that last glass what it is that you want to do, because-"
Falling silent as House leans over to take her glass, Cameron watches as he places it on the table beside his own before looking back up at him curiously; her chest suddenly tight. Accepting the apprehensive brush of his lips, she silently invites him to deepen their kiss, tasting the merlot on his tongue before he finally pulls back for air.
"... Was that so hard?"
She teases, and House offers her a warning look; thrown by the casual nature of her tone.
"In some ways."
He admits, considering her pensively, and she nods as she understands entirely what he means.
"I've been waiting a hell of a long time for you to do that."
Cameron confides, chuckling huskily when House leans back in and scolds her somberly
"You're so weird."
"Hey, it's not like it isn't mutual."
"Yes, but it's not weird the other way around."
"What did I just tell you about deciding how I see things?"
"Oh, that didn't come from a place of self-deprecation, that came from the place where I've seen the way other people look at you and, for once, find myself in agreement with the vast majority."
"...That's a pretty roundabout way of saying you think I'm hot."
The brunette muses, hissing when House tugs at her hair in a bid to coax her head back and graze his teeth against her throat.
"Still, I guess it's the first time you've implied that you think so without being a complete asshole about it... Thanks."
"Are you going to keep talking?"
"What would you rather I do?"
Cameron bites back, and House offers her a smirk that slowly dies on his lips as he can't quite decide whether to make the comment he'd like to about other things she could be doing with her mouth; unnerved by the way she studies him with a brow raised, leaving him feeling slightly sheepish. Not about to stand for such a disturbing sense of role reversal, he nips warningly at her bottom lip as he threads his fingers into heavy curls and forms a fist. In retaliation, the brunette offers a sly flicker of her tongue before pulling away and sliding down off the bed. Considering the position she takes on her knees, it's House's turn to cock a brow; wondering if she's simply toying with him.
Fucking with me.
His breath catches in his throat when she moves her hands to the button of his jeans, erasing any doubt that she's deadly serious about playing into his crass wording.
"... I can't believe I'm about to put what I think you're planning to do in jeopardy, but you have to take the sweater off."
House growls, shaking his head regretfully when Cameron sits back on her heels and looks down at bulky navy cable knit.
"It's not that bad!"
"It's not, but it's very-... It's very wholesome. It goes hand in hand with how I usually see you, which current events really do not..."
"Hm. You know, maybe if you quit shoving everyone into strict little boxes, you'd find yourself pleasantly surprised more often."
Cameron sighs, but she does as she's told and pulls her sweater up over her head; the room small, the fire roaring, and the situation pleasantly heated.
"I don't put everyone into little boxes."
House replies, drinking in the soft grey cotton of the brunette's t-shirt that clings to her slim frame invitingly, before elaborating honestly
"I put you into a box. I had to. You told me you liked me, and I wasn't ready to accept that at the time. Still, you look the way you do and act the way you do, and if I was going to survive keeping you around without going crazy, I had to lay out some pretty stern rules in my head... And it was a good kind of crazy, given that you said you wanted to know before... Too good. Too tempting."
"So, what's changed?"
Cameron asks quietly, feeling increasingly flushed under the weight of House's gaze.
"I'm giving in to temptation. If not now, then when? We had a near-death experience tonight, after all."
House shrugs.
"Now who's dramatic?"
The brunette rolls her eyes, cutting off any further comment as she makes good on her suggestive pose and works open rough denim.
"That would be you, then."
She chuckles when House reacts to her touch with a hissed expletive.
"Cameron... Shut up."
He warns, concerned for his sanity as he tries to process her actions in combination with the familiarity of her good-natured teasing. Still, when the brunette obeys his command in a way that causes his breath to hitch, he wonders if it might be too little, too late. Watching her silently, House grips the side of the bed in favour of guiding her as he might like to; reluctant of being too bold - too demanding - when he knows so little about what she wants in the current context.
...Maybe I wouldn't necessarily mind the disciplinary action you might dole out if I spoke up and fought back if you would just pull your fucking head out of your ass and make up your mind about what it is that you mean when you claim I drive you crazy...
Swallowing as her previous statement comes back to him with delicious promise, he reaches down after all; wrapping a section of her hair experimentally in his fist and shuddering when she glances up at him in response with a teasing brush of her teeth.
"Fuck... Get up. Now."
He orders, more out of necessity than in a bid to explore the boundaries between them further.
There's still time for that.
He breathes in deeply, watching as the brunette does as he says while running a hand through her hair to coax it messily back into place. Hooking a finger into the front of her slacks, he pulls her closer so that she stands inside the cradle of his thighs, her pupils blown as she looks down at him expectantly. Evening the score with a couple of rough tugs to the crisp material, he pushes her pants down her thighs to reveal black cotton.
"This is going to make working together a lot more complicated."
House admits, tracing the sharp curve of her hip appreciatively with his index finger.
"I'm pretty sure I just made sure of that, to be fair."
Cameron counters, and House punishes her for the easy amusement in her tone that surprises him in a way he's coming to find comfortingly pleasurable by replacing the touch of his finger with his teeth. The soft hum the brunette chokes back in response suggests she's enjoying the lesson, allowing House to grow ever more bold as he feels out what works. Pushing her t-shirt up to expose her stomach, he closes his teeth with a little more force just left of her navel before soothing the sting with a kiss.
"We'll make it work."
She assures him huskily as she runs her fingers into his hair and encourages him to nip hard enough to earn an appreciative gasp.
"Stop talking."
He warns once again, pushing her back so that she can step out of her slacks fully. He scolds her predominantly for the image her well-meaning suggestion puts into his head; recalling several guilty fantasies indulged in when she'd first started working for him - before he'd actually grown to like her thus lending a bitter sense of shame to his daydreaming - where he'd come up with a number of heated scenarios to brighten up the monotony of the working day.
"Get on the bed."
He orders, pushing aside thoughts of bending the brunette over his desk before he ruins himself for the real thing.
Keeping purposefully quiet, Cameron does as she's told; climbing onto the covers to sit in the middle of the mattress. House notes that she makes no move to push her shirt back into place, nor does she opt to remove it. She simply looks up at him expectantly. Mischievously.
Oh, hell.
"I always thought you'd be shy..."
House confides, rolling his eyes when the brunette widens her own in a parody of maintaining her silence.
"Okay stop now, you're making this weird, which is saying something."
He grumbles, and Cameron chuckles before accusing him silkily
"Thought about it a lot, did you?"
"Not a lot... Occasionally."
House shrugs, seeing no point in denying it now.
"Same."
"Oh?"
"Don't give me that look, I told you I liked you."
"Yes, that you liked me. Not that you-... Imagined further scenarios."
"Well, no, that would have been kind of awkward to admit given that you professed to have no interest in playing any part in them... Incidentally, I always thought I'd be more reserved too, but it's taken so long to get to where we are now, I'm more just impatient at this point."
The brunette muses coyly, enjoying the look of surprised amusement House fails to hide before he offers her a stern look that incites a pleasurable fluttering low down in her stomach.
"Well, then..."
House pushes his jeans the rest of the way down and reaches inside the pocket, pulling out a small, silver packet before glancing up at the sound of the brunette biting back laughter.
"Something tickling you, Dr Cameron?"
He demands.
"No, not yet."
She shakes her head, regarding him with impish humour and her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she tries to hold back the urge to tease him further.
"No, go on, speak."
House orders, and the brunette shrugs as she leans back against the headboard with a smirk.
"Well, it's one of two options, isn't it? Either you walk around with a condom in your pocket at all times, which I would find uncharacteristically optimistic but in some ways respectful for that same reason, or, that explains what took you a while down in the bathroom before you came up here... Weighing up your chances?"
"... Which option would you find preferable?"
House asks awkwardly, trying to read deeper into the brunette's open amusement.
"I mean, I'd find it pretty presumptive if it were the latter..."
Cameron replies, keeping her tone carefully neutral and watching House's face curiously as he struggles for a response to her accusation; unable to tell whether she's teasing him or whether she's serious and thus looking for an apology.
Trust her to ruin a good thing by-
"-Of course, I'd also find it-... Hmm... Flattering definitely isn't the right word! But... If you just had that on you, it would be in case of sex. If you bought it downstairs, it would be in case of sex with me... Well, unless you were just being organised, but I share an office with you, and would find that doubtful."
"... I'm not generally organised, no."
"Nor optimistic..."
Cameron smiles, and House nods, deciding to give her this one.
"Not usually, not without cause. The jury's still out on whether I was being presumptive, but you were right, we have a history, and with the way the deck was stacked tonight, I felt that I would rather be safe than sorry."
"Well, then..."
The brunette grins, mimicking House's previous statement as she plucks the packet from between his fingers and rips it open with her teeth. Resting back against the pillows as he leans down to kiss her slowly, she works blindly to roll the condom into place; laughing softly as House responds with a groan when she applies pressure to her touch.
Climbing further up the bed with open intent, House suspects that his movements may appear a little stiff, but Cameron makes no comment and simply pulls him down into her; deepening their kiss and pulling her knees up to cradle his hips as he pins her down.
"Okay?"
He asks awkwardly, regretting his choice to say anything as soon as the word leaves his mouth, but he's aware that he's crushing her and intends to resolve the fact by adjusting himself ultimately and intimately, he's just looking for a final word of confirmation.
In lieu of words, Cameron answers him in an altogether more forward manner; reaching for his wrist and guiding his hand to cup her over tellingly damp cotton. Moving his fingers experimentally, House smirks against parted lips when the brunette's breathing begins to quicken, before pushing himself up with a hint of regret in order to remove scant underwear entirely.
"Fuck..."
Cameron hisses as House enters her with a rough thrust of his hips, and she laughs when she feels him tense up against her and squeezes his hips with her thighs to encourage him to do it again.
"I wasn't complaining."
She advises, biting her lip when he heeds her assurance and begins to move with intent.
"Fuck."
House mirrors Cameron's recent sentiment, pushing himself up in order to look down at her as he keeps up a steady rhythm while inwardly damning their recent snowy hike as a dull twinge begins to build in his thigh. Opting to add intensity to his affection over admitting the truth, he grabs hold of the brunette's wrists and pins them on either side of her head; his grip momentarily loose as he waits for her reaction, before bearing down tightly when she hisses encouragement.
Before too long, this, too takes its toll, and he releases his hold in favour of moving his hand down between them; grinning when she meets the teasing addition of his fingers over where she's most sensitive with a yelp.
His grin fades when his leg begins to shake and he's forced to slow his pace as he favours one side. Leaning down to bite at her throat in reprimand when Cameron opens her eyes to look up at him knowingly, he lets out his own grunt of surprise when she wraps her thighs harder around him and attempts to flip them.
"Hey!"
He growls as she knees him none too gently in the stomach in an attempt to assume a more practical position, and she rolls her eyes as she moves to straddle him with her hair casting them both into shadow.
"Really, even now you can't just be straight with me?"
She sighs, and when House mutters that he has no idea what she's talking about, she squeezes his thigh pointedly for just a moment before inciting forgiveness when she lowers her hand and guides him to enter her once more; taking on most of the work.
"Oh, shit..."
House breathes through gritted teeth, reaching up and pushing the brunette's t-shirt further up to expose pale skin. Taking the hint, Cameron sits back and pulls soft cotton up over her head before reaching back and unhooking her bra to follow suit.
"Oh, shit..."
House repeats with greater earnest as he drinks in the view hungrily and Cameron smirks at him before leaning back down to brush her lips against his.
"See, not so shy..."
She teases him for his previous assumption, and he squeezes his eyes shut as the silky quality of her voice threatens to send him over the edge; bringing the flat of his hand down over her backside in reprimand. Clenching his guilty hand immediately into an awkward fist as he fears his primal instinct may not have been appreciated, he's once more surprised when Cameron greets this rough progression with laughter rather than fury; chuckling huskily against the scruff of his jaw. Taking this unlikely reaction as an invitation to do it again, only harder, House clenches his teeth and savours the sound the brunette makes in response for future use.
Concerned that pushing his luck in a bid to get her to repeat herself will have him swiftly beating her to the finish, he reaches for her hips and guides her to move with greater urgency, taking some solace from the fact that the brunette's breathing has become harsh and irregular as her movements become telling more clumsy.
"Fuck..."
She hisses suddenly, bowing her head and digging her nails into his shoulder as her legs shake, and House tightens his grip as he helps her move before tensing up beneath her with a groan.
Catching his breath as he watches Cameron do the same, he waits for her to open her eyes and meets her gaze.
"That was... That was something we haven't done before."
He states uncertainly, at a loss for what to say, and she nods a little dazedly, before giggling awkwardly.
"Well, it is Christmas..."
She offers as an excuse, nipping her lip as she feels House's attention wander south before moving off of him gingerly.
"It is."
He agrees, watching as the brunette reaches for her shirt with a sense of disappointment that he realises must have shown on his face when she grins at him sheepishly.
"It's also winter, and as hot as that was, the fire's dying out."
"Shame."
House smirks, taking the opportunity presented as Cameron hunts for her underwear to push himself off the bed and head for the en suite to clean up without seeming too eager.
It's not like that, it's just that out of the two of us, one has far more business than the other walking around semi-exposed...
Recalling what Cameron had expressed earlier as to her thoughts on the matter, he offers her a curiously warm smile when she glances up at him before shutting himself inside the bathroom.
Pulling her underwear on and perching on the mattress, Cameron attempts to tease her hair back into place as her heart resumes its regular speed.
Holy fuck...
She rubs at her lips before reaching out for her wine. At least, for what she thinks is her wine; unsure which glass had been hers, but supposing it hardly matters anymore.
Taking a sip as she tries to clear her head, she leans over to pull her phone from the back pocket of her slacks, raising a brow when she spies it's almost two in the morning.
Oh well, nowhere to be tomorrow...
No, and while the prospect of spending the day cooped up with House had filled her with a mild sense of dread before, she tentatively allows herself to imagine that it might be alright.
It might even be fun...
Opening up her messages, aware that she's blushing, she replies to Foreman's text that he's sorry that they never had a chance to share a drink, responding in kind before switching over to their group chat and promising to meet up with both he and Chase another night this week for a belated gift exchange.
Given their irregular hours, she's unsurprised when her message shows as read a moment later; the others often up late, and Foreman most likely several beers into celebrating the season with his old college friend visiting for the occasion.
Eric: sounds good, though I doubt either of us can beat the gift of spending a whole night alone with House...
The emojis he tags onto the end of his message scream sarcasm, and she responds in kind with two dashes and an underscore to suggest she's far from impressed by the crass insinuation.
Robert: Glad you're still alive though! If that's not a Christmas miracle, I don't know what is!
Rolling her eyes as she's fairly certain Chase is referring to having to share a room with House and not her near collision with a tree, she repeats her previous message and receives several amused emojis from both men; the use of which they have all agreed suits none of their characters, and so each use frequently to wind each other up.
Looking up when House reenters the room, she tells the boys to keep their thoughts clean and sighs when they reply that they expect her to do the same.
GOODNIGHT!
She types into the chat, turning off her phone before she can receive further sarcastic replies.
"Alright?"
House asks, and she nods, pushing herself up in order to use the bathroom herself.
"Fine, I was just wishing the others Merry Christmas."
"And what were they wishing you?"
House grins, certain that Chase and Foreman will have had more to offer than seasonal platitudes knowing that their fairer counterpart is sharing a night in bed with the boss.
"They told me to keep my thoughts clean... Didn't say anything about my actions."
She shrugs, and House laughs appreciatively, not bothering to check his own phone as he's ignored seasonal texts from Wilson and Cuddy for so long now that they've finally seemed to get the hint. Otherwise, the only message wishing him well he might receive would be a tangibly awkward but sweet attempt at spreading joy from Cameron.
Not so awkward now!
Shocking, but true, something he confirms when the brunette reenters the room with a yawn and climbs under the covers next to him; taking a sip from her wine and handing him the other glass in a strangely companionable way. Accepting it gratefully and taking a sip, House rubs at his scruff as they each look ahead at the fire, sharing a silence that's more uncertain than it is unpleasant.
"Well... Merry Christmas."
He offers finally, and Cameron offers him a wary glance before bursting into laughter.
"Yeah. Sure. Merry Christmas."