a new House fanfic

2007-05-21T20:25:36Z

Title: Plan C
Author: bluejulie
Rating: 18+
Pairing: House/Cameron
Warnings: No real spoilers, but just to be on the safe side - there are a few hints to events in 2x17 and 3x15. Nothing revealing.
Summary: House doesn’t want to go to a banquet at the hospital so he devises plan A to escape it. But Cuddy insists and he comes up with plan B. But it isn’t until he uses plan C that things get complicated …

There are two endings. One is a happy one and one is angsty, they are clearly marked and it’s up to you which one you decide to read.

PLAN C

A complete pain in the neck and utter boredom, that’s what this was. He had quite enough of last year’s poker thingy and now this banquet to kiss the ugly behinds of the rich. He tried wiggling out of it by promising Cuddy he’d be good and do his clinic duty for a month without sending Cameron or Chase to do it for him. It didn’t help. His plan B was to come to the banquet, say hi and then leave unnoticed.

So here he was, in his tux and even black shoes instead of the usual sneakers. He noticed a few people weirdly eying his cane with flames on it, he enjoyed making faces at them. They all quickly looked away, afraid that this weirdo might approach them. The free drinks and Cuddy’s cleavage caused him to enjoy the event more than he had anticipated.

He was contemplating embarrassing Chase in front of a woman again this year, but he figured since Chase would most probably attend this thing with Cameron, it didn’t have much point. Cameron would think him an ass if he tried. It was disquieting how that bothered him.

“She thinks I’m an ass anyway,” he murmured under his breath and limped to the bar to get another scotch.

“Till about a moment ago I thought you were actually enjoying yourself,” Wilson interrupted as he stopped to his left side.

“What?”

“It seemed like you were enjoying the view,” Wilson pointed towards a group of nurses that were dancing under the makeshift stage for the band. “But then in a second your face turned so dark I thought you saw Cameron make out with someone.”

“What?”

Wilson blinked when House didn’t understand his joke.

“I though …” he started again.

“I don’t give a damn about what you though. Did you see Cameron make out with someone?”

“No,” Wilson denied.

“Well, then,” grumbled House.

When House was served his scotch Wilson ordered one too. While waiting, he asked House, “Have you seen Cuddy?”

“Cuddy or her cleavage?”

“Cuddy,” Wilson rolled his eyes.

“No. When you see her, tell her she’s going to pay me for this. Big time.”

House grabbed his glass and left Wilson staring after him as he hobbled through the door that led into the hallway. When he disappeared behind them, Wilson gathered he would go up to his office and probably delve into another case, instead of having fun with the normal people. He sighed. He should’ve learned by now that House was hopeless.

In the hallway, House tipped the glass and emptied it, the scotch burning its way down his throat. He left the glass on the cushioned seat by the wall and slowly walked on, not knowing where to head to have some peace and quiet.

He turned the corner and quickly stepped back. As used as he was to all the drama in life, his heartbeat quickened now and he forced himself to breathe quietly to remain hidden. He peeked around the corner at Cameron and Chase, leaning against the wall. He had to force himself to stop looking. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He’ll probably never be able to remove that gross image out of his head, he thought. Chase’s hands all over Cameron, her dress bunched almost up to her waist. He could hear them, too. He was tempted to step in front of them and scare the hell out of them, just for the fun of it. But he stopped himself. He wanted to hear her. He was revolted by his own sick desire.

He waited with his eyes closed and his heart beating heavily. Usually, he’d be turned on knowing someone was on the verge of having sex just a few steps away. Today, he probably drank too much for that.

He heard Chase’s mouth and cringed.

She murmured something, he couldn’t catch her words. As if she sensed that, she repeated them louder.

“Wait, Chase. Stop.”

“What? Why?” Oh, he could’ve hit him on the head just for the accent.

“I don’t want this. I thought we had a deal,” she panted. Her silk dress rustled and House could feel how very dark red it was.

“We did have a deal. But earlier when you looked at me … I thought you changed your mind.”

There was a pause and more rustling, tougher material, probably Chase’s shirt.

“I didn’t. I just slipped in my resolution.”

“Cause you want me,” Chase insisted and House had to grip the cane not to step forward and show him that Cameron was serious.

“I don’t want you, Chase. Please, don’t make this hard.”

Chase suddenly laughed. “Is it House? Seeing him in his tux made you pine for him again?” he mocked.

Cameron was quiet. House was barely breathing. He knew he shouldn’t have come. He didn’t think seeing him in a tux would have any effect on Cameron, but these social events always had weird effects on people. Anything outside his job was making life difficult for him. He had known that for a long time, so he tried avoiding any social gathering at all costs. Unsuccessfully this time.

When she didn’t answer, his grip on the cane relaxed slightly, the scotch warmed his insides. She was such a naïve, girly thing. Like a tux could change the man! And the sweeter she got the harder it was to resist her. She was so different, so much younger, like she was from a different planet that wasn’t even in his universe. But beauties and beasts were only possible in fairy tales.

“Of course I don’t pine for House,” she protested in a lame voice. House opened his eyes, disillusioned, but convinced himself her voice sounded untruthful. Lies come in different shapes and sizes. Cameron’s shape and size was thoroughly alluring.

He heard Chase’s steps and he had to hurry to the restroom door to hide in time. He didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping. Usually, he would’ve confronted them. But tonight he felt too insecure and tired for that. He locked the stall door and heard Chase entering. He splashed some water and muttered something under his breath. House didn’t understand the words.

He waited till Chase left and then another minute before he exited the restroom. Cautiously, he checked the hallways, but there was no one there. He sighed and slightly disappointed walked to the elevator. He didn’t have to wait long, everyone abandoned the hospital for the dancing floor. He entered and pressed the button to his floor.

“Wait,” Cameron called out as she hurried towards the closing door. He stopped the door and watched her curiously as she stepped in next to him.

“Which floor?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

She looked at him frowning. “The usual?”

He could make a smart-assed comment, but he kept his mouth shut.

He leaned closer to her and smelled her hair. She made a quick step to the side and eyed him warily. “Did you just smell my hair?”

He shrugged. “Just trying to figure for how long Chase’s smell can be traced on you.”

She scowled but didn’t say anything. He grinned, tapping his cane against the elevator floor.

“Stop that. You’re making me nervous.”

“You’re using the stop word a lot today,” he quipped. “You should be relaxed, we’re having a part-ee.”

She wasn’t sure of what to think of the first comment and she didn’t want to incriminate herself so she let it pass.

He was intrigued when she didn’t fervently deny the Chase scene. She’s more stoical today, he thought, and more provoking would be needed to see her cheeks and neck blush with indignation and her eyes sparkle. That became his goal for tonight. In a second he abandoned his plan B and switched to plan C – test how far he could go with Cameron. He anticipated the experiment not only being interesting, but also very enjoyable.

“Did you leave anything in the conference room?” he asked.

“No. Why?”

He made a face. “Cause you’re going up, that’s why!” he exclaimed in an affected voice.

She shook her head. “I just wanted some peace and quiet.” She repeated his previous thought almost word by word.

“Well, since we’re both in search of the same thing …” he started as they stepped out of the elevator and walked towards the conference room. “Care for a scotch?”

She hesitated for a second, then nodded.

He waked into his office and grabbed a bottle and a glass from his cabinet and brought them into the room.

When she saw he had only one glass, she took a mug from the coffee machine and placed it on the table. She sat on a chair.

“You can have the glass,” he offered and pushed it towards her. She smiled at his unusual generosity and waited till he poured some scotch into the mug. They clinked with their drinks. She wanted to make a toast to them, but she knew better.

“To us, lost and damaged and rejected by others,” he said pompously and she nearly choked on the drink. She was close to saying that it was him rejecting others, not being rejected by others.

He snickered as if he could read her mind and made a sip as well. He put the cane on the table, but didn’t sit down. He just stood there, half turned towards her, watching her and making her uneasy. He was brilliant at that.

“What?” she asked nervously. The short moment of his generosity and benevolence was gone. He was like a hawk again, preying on a little mouse down below, planning on torturing her till she’ll squeal in agony.

“No blush on your skin from Chase’s stubble. Oh wait, he didn’t reach puberty yet!”

She frowned. “Do you have to be insulting? I thought you came up here for peace and quiet.”

“Yeah, I do. That makes me feel awfully peaceful.”

“Can’t you just sit down and I don’t know … be quiet for a while?” she said exasperated.

But it was as if he hadn’t heard her. “Still waters run deep, huh?”

She just rolled her eyes, too fed up with all the men in her life to even bother and ask what he was talking about.

“You like it rough, don’t you?”

Her eyes widened just slightly, but she quickly composed herself. He was a bit disappointed, he expected her to yell at him. She was too irresponsive tonight to have any fun in provoking her. But he couldn’t help it.

“You’d need a real man, not a boy,” he commented lightly.

“You?” she finally responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you do want me, don’t you?” He convinced himself he was asking for the fun of irritating her. But if he were to be honest, he actually wanted to know the truth.

“Yes,” she said simply, throwing him off balance as he didn’t expect such a direct answer. Lately, she had been claiming she didn’t care for him anymore. This was a surprise. A nice one, he had to admit despite himself.

He grinned. He knew he should stop right that second. But he was so empty he feared to be silent and alone for only a second because then he would hear the resounding void inside. He needed to keep talking.

“So why do you let Chase slobber all over you?”

“Would you like that privilege reserved for yourself?” she retorted in his fashion.

He paused at her attack. “Maybe.” There was the slightest tremble in his voice, the tiniest proof of his desire. He didn’t know whether her response was a result of her sensing it or a result of her own initiative.

She stood up and made two steps towards him. When she stopped in front of him, their bodies were touching just enough to let the oxygen between them to fuel the flames.

The fear of rejection and humiliation was so slight she ascribed the lack of it to the scotch.

“Will you kiss me? Again?” he made a face at her. The corner of his lips twitched.

“No. This time you’ll have to do it.” She thought he’ll reject that flatly. But he hesitated, his mouth slightly open, his eyes fixed on her. He licked his lips in a nervous gesture. He still didn’t speak and Cameron thought the longer he waited the harder it would be to accept the rejection.

He leaned closer, his nose brushing against hers in an imaginary touch. He would make her believe he would kiss her and then laugh at her instead, she figured. He’s capable of doing that.

Instead, his lips brushed over hers in too shy a kiss for House. She shivered at the shock of it. His hand reached to her back and brought her up against him. The second time his mouth wasn’t as brief and gentle. His lips crushed against hers with a force that made the world around her disappear into nonexistence. His tongue forced its way into her warm, moist mouth. His stubble scratched her sensitive skin, sending an almost animalistic passion through her veins. She moaned and opened her surprised eyes when she heard herself. She could feel House grin against her lips.

He didn’t let her react. He pressed her harder against his torso. She felt his hand slip lower on her back. His skin burnt her through the thin silk of her dress.

He could feel she was wearing a thong. His fingers prickled with the desire to pull the dress off of her and feel her flesh. He knew it wouldn’t come to that, he was just teasing her, but it was nice to fantasize about seeing her naked. His thought was violently interrupted when he felt her hand on his crotch. He inhaled sharply and wanted to step away, but her lips wouldn’t let go. He was beginning to feel hot, his body was on fire. It was time to stop playing.

“Are you balking out?” she said with a low voice in his ear. He felt trapped. There was no way he could walk away with his ego intact, neither could he do this without someone getting hurt. He couldn’t think with all his blood rushing down south and with Cameron whispering in his ear.

“Don’t you want to touch me? Grope my firm little ass? Have a real woman not a hooker you pay for? Be with a woman who tells you what she wants you to do?” She was taunting him, it was so childish, still – he couldn’t resist. She was right, he wanted to be with a woman who would tell him exactly what she wanted and he wanted to satisfy her every need, he wanted to get off on seeing her pretty little face contort in ecstasy and pure lust, he wanted to leave bruises on her ivory skin with his kisses and groping. He wanted her to appease his hurting body with her gentle skin, her soft touch. He plain wanted her with an insistent need that made him feel alive.

“I do,” he muttered, but the sound of the two words made him feel like someone doused him with cold water. Cameron sensed it and quickly pushed him to the floor. He’d never felt as helpless as when her mouth attacked his face, his lips and neck. She pulled at his tux and the shirt. He had long gotten rid of the bow-tie.

“Where’s my damn bow-tie?” he muttered as he pulled her on top of him.

“What do you need it for?” She nibbled at his earlobe, making him feel the electric pulse going all the way down to his crotch.

“I want to tie your hands,” he grinned evilly.

“No, you don’t,” she whispered. “You have no idea what I can do to you with my hands.” Her voice was like molasses, thick with promises.

He growled at her words, his imagination on over-load.

House pushed her dress up her legs, she helped him till it bunched around her waist. She tore at his shirt, sending a button flying across the room, impatient to touch his hairy chest, to bite his smooth skin.

House was amazed, shocked, overwhelmed all at the same time. He felt an almost panicky need to think clearly, his experiment had gone too far. But his brain was too besieged by the warm, non-Vicodin induced ecstasy his young coworker was evoking in him. He felt her everywhere, suddenly he feared he would miss out on the opportunity to taste her while he had the chance.

He rolled her over, ending up on top of her. He grabbed her exploring hands and pinned them to the carpet. Her eyes were challenging him, not the slightest trace of fear or remorse in them. That scared him more than anything.

With his free hand he slid down her thigh almost roughly, silently pushing her to reconsider this as he knew he didn’t have enough strength to do it himself. He crushed her lips with his mouth, pushing his pelvis against her in the same rhythm. She was wriggling underneath him, moaning and sighing with the most delightful sounds. He wished she would close her eyes, her soft, lusty stare was too intimate for him. He wanted to be able to observe her, not the other way around.

Her hands strained against his grip above her head. When he didn’t let them go, she groaned, “Your pants.”

The words, her insistent voice, the urgency in her eyes almost undid him. Now she was completely and utterly his. As he thought that, he flinched. He didn’t want her to be his, he didn’t want her to be attached to him in any way. She was better off without him. He would satisfy her now and then let her go. Because it was too late now not to give her what she wanted. He couldn’t be that cruel. And then there were his cravings he couldn’t refuse …

He sat up for a moment to unzip his pants. He saw Cameron watching him, her pupils enlarged like she was high.

“What?” he growled when his fingers fumbled with the button.

“It’s so erotic,” she exhaled. A typically girlish thinking, he thought, but it goaded him immensely as he thought a woman like Cameron, who could have just about any man she chose, thought having sex with him was erotic. But then, she was into damaged, crippled men, he added as an afterthought.

“Not because you’re a cripple,” she said, reading his face. “You’re breathing erratically, your hands are shaking, your eyes are so dark …” She was talking as if lost in the intense arousal. He pulled the pants down and kicked off the shoes. He covered her body with his when she added, “It’s almost as if you really wanted me.” She was grinning, but his acute senses caught the soft pain behind her words. He wished he could just hug her and tell her that he did want her. But he pushed her knees apart with his hand instead. He positioned himself between her warm, silky thighs. She caught her breath when she felt him hot and smooth.

His chest pressed against her hard nipples. She felt like flames were consuming her, the pain of her need was sweet and the sweetness of his touch was painful.

He penetrated her slowly, too slowly for him. He didn’t have much to give, at least he could give her this. She arched her back, pressing her slight torso into him. He was left breathless from her movement. He lowered his face to her neck, calming down before he moved in her. She moved her hips, urging him on, pleading and ordering without words.

He opened his eyes as he pushed into her, watching her tense face. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth open, eyes closed. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, he wanted to tell her he’d like to see her like this again.

His rhythm was fast, urgent, painfully needy. She responded to his every thrust. Her hands were pressing into his back under his shirt, her head fell back, her mouth letting out unintelligible sounds of the lovemaking alphabet.

His world began to spin as he rose himself unto his elbows for leverage as he thrust harder. Her vocal cords were singing him the loveliest love song. He lowered his head and pressed his lips together to stop the words before they came to life.

“Cam …”

She opened her eyes briefly and she saw his face. She touched his cheek with her fingers. “Greg.”

He stared at her, he saw her lips tremble and utter a pleading sound. He covered her breast with his hand and pinched the hard nipple. She called out as she came, arching into him, scratching his shoulder. Her face showed complete abandon, surprise at the height of her high, ecstasy, tenderness, rough satisfaction. She was the sexiest sight he had seen in a while.

Now he could allow himself some release and pleasure. He buried himself deep, taking a deep breath like before going underwater. Then he plunged into the delight that coursed through his exhausted, craving body, releasing all the tension, need and yearning in a muffled cry.

He fell on top of her and didn’t have the strength to move and liberate her of his heavy body. He struggled to breathe, there were red circles dancing in front of his eyes.

He felt her arms hug him across his back. The shirt glued to his sweaty skin.

He slowly moved to his side, giving Cameron more space. She turned towards him, but he didn’t want to open his eyes.

He heard her giggle and now he had to look at her.

“Camy?” she asked.

“What?” he questioned hoarsely.

“You called me Camy,” she giggled again. He grumbled annoyed, but that didn’t stop her.

HAPPY ENDING

“You called me Camy,” she giggled again. He grumbled annoyed, but that didn’t stop her.

“I didn’t mean you,” he protested with half closed eyes.

“Right.”

She leaned closer and he shook his head to object, but she kissed his lips anyway. She kept smiling, her face bright, a canvas so filled with emotions it was impossible to see the lines.

“Don’t think that we’ll be doing this on a regular basis now,” he growled and yet he pulled her closer until he felt her naked breasts against his torso. The warm feeling made him smile despite himself.

She laughed. “I know. I wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

Now his face was covered with a full-fledged smirk. “You’ll have to think of something new to keep me interested.”

“If I’ll think it worth it. You might start to bore me, you know.”

“Ha! Never!”

ANGSTY ENDING

“You called me Camy,” she giggled again. He grumbled annoyed, but that didn’t stop her.

“Don’t behave like a school girl. It’s not as attractive as women like to think.”

Cameron kept still, watching his face, judging the expression. He seemed serious, almost angry.

“House.”

He opened his eyes again and slowly sat up. He searched for his pants and started to dress.

Cameron was watching him with a mixture of hurt, anger, disillusionment. When he saw her eyes and the unpleasant surprise on her parted lips, he wished he could take the harshly spoken words back. But then he reconsidered.

If she had known who he really was, she would’ve despised every inch of the body she just made love to. He didn’t want to instill the bitterness of hate in her idealistic, gentle soul. If he stopped things from getting any further, this would be just a mild disappointment for her. He preferred that to her discovering who he was and then hating him for it. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. He had to let her go before it was too late.

“What’s going on?” she asked almost fearfully.

He faked ignorance. “What? Get dressed. Want Chase coming in on us?”

“House! We just …”

“Fucked. I quite liked it,” he quipped.

“Fucked,” she repeated like an echo. “That’s all this was for you? You didn’t feel … anything?” Her voice rose with her incomprehension.

“No. Did you?” he asked curiously.

After a long pause when she stared at him dismayed, she said a quiet ‘no’.

Their lies were tangible between them but that way he at least had something to grab for when he started drowning in his self-pity and remorse for letting her go.

Synchronicity

a new House fanfic