"Open Wide" by ijemanja
Title: Open Wide
Author: ijemanja
Rating: R
Pairing: Cuddy/Cameron
Prompt: 22. Alcohol, bad judgement, and things that weren't really meant.
At times, Lisa Cuddy likes to consider her options.
She sees herself running into Foreman in a bar one night, letting him buy her a drink. He would be easy-going and charming, they would laugh about work (House, in other words) and she would let him take her home.
She can see Chase on his knees in her office, eager to please. His hair would be just the right length to bury her fingers in.
She imagines dragging her nails down the front of one of House's ridiculous t-shirts - probably something with skulls on it - straddling him in his chair and shutting him up with her mouth and her tongue. She knows exactly how good it would be, just as she knows it wouldn't last and she has to wonder if it would be worth it, in the end.
Then there's Wilson - he would be nice to her, and she'd be nice to him. It would be nice, and simple, but neither of them would be getting quite what they wanted.
She can't imagine a world where she would ever get involved with Allison Cameron.
The problem with Cameron is, aside from the fact that she doubts the woman has a non-heterosexual bone in her body, they just don't like each other very much.
There's no real reason for them to, of course, and she can't see the situation changing any time soon. Which is why it's so strange to find herself, one day, propped against an exam bed in the clinic, the door closed and the blinds shut, with Cameron's tongue in her cleavage and a hand working its way inside her underwear.
It's one of those things that never really occurs to you until it's staring you right in the face.
*
The argument is about House, and afterwards she's going to have to try not to read too much into that. But the fact is she came looking for House and found Cameron doing his clinic hours. She shouldn't be covering for him, but his leg hurts (Cameron's reasoning) but then it always hurts (her own) and it devolves rapidly from there.
"You're not doing him any favours, helping him avoid his responsibilities."
She's not doing herself any favours either - House doesn't respect people who let him walk all over him - but Cuddy just manages not to say that.
Cameron has far less restraint. "I guess I'm just not as interested in playing power games with him as some people. And I offered to cover his shift, if you must know."
Cuddy snorts. "Of course you did." And she goes to leave Cameron to her brimming selflessness but Cameron actually moves in front of the door, blocking her path.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" she demands.
Cuddy gives her an incredulous look. "I'm not going to be dragged into a brawl." Not least because it's exactly the sort of thing House would love, the two of them fighting over him like a pair of randy alleycats.
Cameron's seething away however and doesn't seem to be backing down as she snaps: "You're the one making personal comments, I'm not allowed to respond?"
"You're right." And she is, but internally Cuddy is rolling her eyes anyway. "I apologise." But it comes out sarcastically, as does Cameron's response.
"Great."
Neither of them is twelve but this conversation is certainly making her feel that way, especially when she tosses all semblance of decorum aside and lets herself be exactly as irritated with Cameron as she wants.
"You know, House might be willing to put up with your attitude, Dr Cameron, but then he probably wants to sleep with you a lot more than I do."
She's actually pushing past Cameron (she really needs to get out of this room before the hair-pulling starts) when the reply comes: "And just how much do you want to sleep with me?"
The snide tone is about seven kinds of unprofessional but then so is turning with a laugh and saying: "Not that much." Which is what she does.
It's sort of a roundabout way of saying 'bring it on, bitch', and Cameron seems to realise that at the same time she does.
And she's thinking about it suddenly, the possibility passing through her mind not in the least her fault since it wasn't her who brought it up. (Was it?) But random thoughts are one thing and nothing has to come of it - she is, in fact, very close to pulling the door open and leaving and blaming the whole thing on low blood sugar.
The real problem begins with Cameron catching what must be a rather telling look on her face. And then Cameron is the one laughing, a short huff of amusement, and at her expense. Wonderful. Embarrassment is quickly taking over now, and it doesn't exactly help when Cameron lifts a hand to the side of her neck.
Because then she's finding out what Cameron's lip gloss tastes like, and she's not exactly protesting.
*
"So just how much did you want to sleep with me again?"
Cameron's got two fingers curled up inside her, digging into her g-sop with a precision that tells her Cameron's got more than a few non-heterosexual bones in her body, actually. The second and third distal phalanges, to name two. It's making it difficult to think but it's still not enough, which is half the problem right there. And then Cameron's thumb slides over her clit and she's not going to be getting out anything too coherent any time soon.
"At least a little, right?" Cameron answers for her.
Enough to let you fuck me in the clinic in the middle of the afternoon, she adds in her head, but all that comes out is: "God. Shut up."
Cameron brings their mouths together again, which works well enough. Then Cuddy finds the zipper at the back of Cameron's pants, finds her, wet when she slips a hand between her thighs.
There's a sense of urgency here - it kicked in when the kissing did. Because there's no real reason for them both to be in here alone other than the truth, and it's such a risk, such a stupid, insane risk. And so the tension she's feeling isn't all about the sex but it's hard to tell where the anxiety stops and the arousal begins. And it hardly matters when she's coming, grinding herself desperately into Cameron's hand.
It's not pretty or anything like gentle, the two of them just trying to get off as quickly as possible and once she has, for a brief moment as she breathes hard against Cameron's shoulder she considers yanking up her panties and making a quick getaway. But Cameron's hips are shifting against her hand and she's making these frustrated little sounds with every breath right into Cuddy's ear.
Pushing Cameron's pants down her thighs and helping her up onto the bed she presses her tongue to Cameron's clit and all thought of fleeing is forgotten.
Until five minutes later when she leaves the room with her head held high like nothing is at all out of the ordinary - like Cameron isn't still fixing her clothes and straightening her hair, like she's not leaving her there to make a beeline for her office and her private bathroom so she can wash away all signs of the sex they didn't just have.
*
"Well this is nice and awkward."
Cameron's standing in the middle of her office, and it seemed like one of them should say something. After a pause, Cameron agrees.
"Yeah. I thought we should... talk."
"Talk," she repeats giving it a slightly different inflection.
Cameron looks away but doesn't have the good grace to blush. Blushing isn't something Cameron does - this woman, she's going to find, has very little in the way of shame. But right now she's looking for a way out of this and considers suggesting a more neutral setting, meeting for a drink somewhere probably, because that's how this is done.
She can't think of anything worse than sitting here in her office, talking about how they fucked each other in exam room three yesterday.
She mentions the idea and Cameron looks around, out through the doors to the clinic. It's past six and there's no one around. Her assistant leaves at five - it's hard enough to hold onto them without making them stay late.
"What's wrong with right now?" Cameron says. She moves closer to the desk, forcing Cuddy to sit back in her chair to look up at her. "You don't seem too busy."
"Maybe I'm just not up to chatting with you right now, Dr Cameron."
It's a fairly lame attempt to reassert their relative positions. She thinks she probably lost that high ground around the time her pantyhose was bunched at her knees, and Cameron knows it, too. She's smiling faintly as she rounds the desk, her fingers trailing lightly along the smooth wood surface.
"Well, we don't have to chat," she says.
*
She's two for two and starting to wonder if she's ever going to get the upper hand in one of these encounters. Because she feels very much like the natural order of things has been overturned. She's less sure of herself than she should be and Cameron is so full of confidence it's disturbing to think this person has been hiding inside House's little devotee all this time. She should have spotted her sooner. Though if she's honest, the warning signs were there.
The key is alcohol, she discovers when they actually manage to meet for that drink. Here in a public place Cameron is reserved, like she's suddenly remembered who she is, and who Cuddy is, and what that means.
Cuddy orders drinks and watches Cameron get nice and tipsy, till Cameron's hand is sliding along her thigh and she's getting the impression Cameron's about to climb in her lap. In the cab she lets Cameron happily inform the driver of her address and goes with her to her apartment. She screws Cameron with her own vibrator while nibbling on her breasts and feels a whole lot better for it.
She wants to cuddle afterwards, Cameron as affectionate as she is pliable when drunk. And since not all those drinks she picked up the tab for went towards Cameron's looming hangover, she lets Cameron curl up against her, and falls asleep with a hand moving gently on her back.
*
She's talking to House (though berating would be a better word for what she's actually doing) in his office and imagining herself sitting in his chair with Cameron laid out naked over his desk.
It's just as well these encounters with House are so routine they may as well be scripted and she doesn't break her stride except for one traitorous glance next door where all three of his staff are assembled.
She worries about House finding out. He always knows, sooner or later, everything she doesn't want him to. Just as she worries about how idle fantasies that never involved Cameron have been overtaken, transformed by this woman she still isn't sure she even likes all that much.
*
"No one should end up being hurt by this," she's saying, as she stands over Cameron at the table in the diagnostics lounge. "I know you care about your career, this wouldn't be good for you. Or me, for that matter, or the hospital."
"It wouldn't look good, you mean." Her bristling response is immediate, but she subsides just as quickly. "Sorry. You're trying to let me off easy, and -"
"You're not interested in easy." She sighs. Cameron, stubborn and so determined to be right - she's so young right now and Cuddy feels every day of her almost-forty years in comparison. Shaking her head she asks, "What exactly do you think is going on here?"
"We're sleeping together. I just don't see what is so wrong with that."
She throws up her hands. "God, you're difficult."
Cameron's hands come up too, as she stands and takes hold of Cuddy's face, kissing her. She doesn't exactly pull away and she thinks that probably isn't helping with the point she's trying to make.
Which is probably why Cameron is smirking slightly when she lets her go and says: "Easy's boring," before walking away.
*
Cuddy knocks on Cameron's door feeling predictable and slightly pathetic. She's used to knowing her own mind, making smart choices for the right reasons. It's why she's always been so terrible at relationships.
"House is going to find out and he's going to make both our lives hell," she says when Cameron answers the door. "We'll have to move to Canada and change our names if we want any peace."
Cameron is smiling and tugging on her wrist, drawing her inside, causing Cuddy to wonder what on earth there is to be happy about.
"Jokes," she says, "About strap-ons and lesbian porn, and which one of us wears the pants."
"Well that one's obvious, anyway," Cameron says half under her breath as she works Cuddy's coat off her shoulders. "Do you have a strap-on? I've never tried one."
Cuddy finds her jaw going slack momentarily. "We'll get you one," she says firmly.
Cameron shrugs. "You're the boss."
Cuddy doesn't feel like it.
But rather than panicking or feeling inadequate she might actually be starting to think it makes a nice change.
Author: ijemanja
Rating: R
Pairing: Cuddy/Cameron
Prompt: 22. Alcohol, bad judgement, and things that weren't really meant.
At times, Lisa Cuddy likes to consider her options.
She sees herself running into Foreman in a bar one night, letting him buy her a drink. He would be easy-going and charming, they would laugh about work (House, in other words) and she would let him take her home.
She can see Chase on his knees in her office, eager to please. His hair would be just the right length to bury her fingers in.
She imagines dragging her nails down the front of one of House's ridiculous t-shirts - probably something with skulls on it - straddling him in his chair and shutting him up with her mouth and her tongue. She knows exactly how good it would be, just as she knows it wouldn't last and she has to wonder if it would be worth it, in the end.
Then there's Wilson - he would be nice to her, and she'd be nice to him. It would be nice, and simple, but neither of them would be getting quite what they wanted.
She can't imagine a world where she would ever get involved with Allison Cameron.
The problem with Cameron is, aside from the fact that she doubts the woman has a non-heterosexual bone in her body, they just don't like each other very much.
There's no real reason for them to, of course, and she can't see the situation changing any time soon. Which is why it's so strange to find herself, one day, propped against an exam bed in the clinic, the door closed and the blinds shut, with Cameron's tongue in her cleavage and a hand working its way inside her underwear.
It's one of those things that never really occurs to you until it's staring you right in the face.
*
The argument is about House, and afterwards she's going to have to try not to read too much into that. But the fact is she came looking for House and found Cameron doing his clinic hours. She shouldn't be covering for him, but his leg hurts (Cameron's reasoning) but then it always hurts (her own) and it devolves rapidly from there.
"You're not doing him any favours, helping him avoid his responsibilities."
She's not doing herself any favours either - House doesn't respect people who let him walk all over him - but Cuddy just manages not to say that.
Cameron has far less restraint. "I guess I'm just not as interested in playing power games with him as some people. And I offered to cover his shift, if you must know."
Cuddy snorts. "Of course you did." And she goes to leave Cameron to her brimming selflessness but Cameron actually moves in front of the door, blocking her path.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" she demands.
Cuddy gives her an incredulous look. "I'm not going to be dragged into a brawl." Not least because it's exactly the sort of thing House would love, the two of them fighting over him like a pair of randy alleycats.
Cameron's seething away however and doesn't seem to be backing down as she snaps: "You're the one making personal comments, I'm not allowed to respond?"
"You're right." And she is, but internally Cuddy is rolling her eyes anyway. "I apologise." But it comes out sarcastically, as does Cameron's response.
"Great."
Neither of them is twelve but this conversation is certainly making her feel that way, especially when she tosses all semblance of decorum aside and lets herself be exactly as irritated with Cameron as she wants.
"You know, House might be willing to put up with your attitude, Dr Cameron, but then he probably wants to sleep with you a lot more than I do."
She's actually pushing past Cameron (she really needs to get out of this room before the hair-pulling starts) when the reply comes: "And just how much do you want to sleep with me?"
The snide tone is about seven kinds of unprofessional but then so is turning with a laugh and saying: "Not that much." Which is what she does.
It's sort of a roundabout way of saying 'bring it on, bitch', and Cameron seems to realise that at the same time she does.
And she's thinking about it suddenly, the possibility passing through her mind not in the least her fault since it wasn't her who brought it up. (Was it?) But random thoughts are one thing and nothing has to come of it - she is, in fact, very close to pulling the door open and leaving and blaming the whole thing on low blood sugar.
The real problem begins with Cameron catching what must be a rather telling look on her face. And then Cameron is the one laughing, a short huff of amusement, and at her expense. Wonderful. Embarrassment is quickly taking over now, and it doesn't exactly help when Cameron lifts a hand to the side of her neck.
Because then she's finding out what Cameron's lip gloss tastes like, and she's not exactly protesting.
*
"So just how much did you want to sleep with me again?"
Cameron's got two fingers curled up inside her, digging into her g-sop with a precision that tells her Cameron's got more than a few non-heterosexual bones in her body, actually. The second and third distal phalanges, to name two. It's making it difficult to think but it's still not enough, which is half the problem right there. And then Cameron's thumb slides over her clit and she's not going to be getting out anything too coherent any time soon.
"At least a little, right?" Cameron answers for her.
Enough to let you fuck me in the clinic in the middle of the afternoon, she adds in her head, but all that comes out is: "God. Shut up."
Cameron brings their mouths together again, which works well enough. Then Cuddy finds the zipper at the back of Cameron's pants, finds her, wet when she slips a hand between her thighs.
There's a sense of urgency here - it kicked in when the kissing did. Because there's no real reason for them both to be in here alone other than the truth, and it's such a risk, such a stupid, insane risk. And so the tension she's feeling isn't all about the sex but it's hard to tell where the anxiety stops and the arousal begins. And it hardly matters when she's coming, grinding herself desperately into Cameron's hand.
It's not pretty or anything like gentle, the two of them just trying to get off as quickly as possible and once she has, for a brief moment as she breathes hard against Cameron's shoulder she considers yanking up her panties and making a quick getaway. But Cameron's hips are shifting against her hand and she's making these frustrated little sounds with every breath right into Cuddy's ear.
Pushing Cameron's pants down her thighs and helping her up onto the bed she presses her tongue to Cameron's clit and all thought of fleeing is forgotten.
Until five minutes later when she leaves the room with her head held high like nothing is at all out of the ordinary - like Cameron isn't still fixing her clothes and straightening her hair, like she's not leaving her there to make a beeline for her office and her private bathroom so she can wash away all signs of the sex they didn't just have.
*
"Well this is nice and awkward."
Cameron's standing in the middle of her office, and it seemed like one of them should say something. After a pause, Cameron agrees.
"Yeah. I thought we should... talk."
"Talk," she repeats giving it a slightly different inflection.
Cameron looks away but doesn't have the good grace to blush. Blushing isn't something Cameron does - this woman, she's going to find, has very little in the way of shame. But right now she's looking for a way out of this and considers suggesting a more neutral setting, meeting for a drink somewhere probably, because that's how this is done.
She can't think of anything worse than sitting here in her office, talking about how they fucked each other in exam room three yesterday.
She mentions the idea and Cameron looks around, out through the doors to the clinic. It's past six and there's no one around. Her assistant leaves at five - it's hard enough to hold onto them without making them stay late.
"What's wrong with right now?" Cameron says. She moves closer to the desk, forcing Cuddy to sit back in her chair to look up at her. "You don't seem too busy."
"Maybe I'm just not up to chatting with you right now, Dr Cameron."
It's a fairly lame attempt to reassert their relative positions. She thinks she probably lost that high ground around the time her pantyhose was bunched at her knees, and Cameron knows it, too. She's smiling faintly as she rounds the desk, her fingers trailing lightly along the smooth wood surface.
"Well, we don't have to chat," she says.
*
She's two for two and starting to wonder if she's ever going to get the upper hand in one of these encounters. Because she feels very much like the natural order of things has been overturned. She's less sure of herself than she should be and Cameron is so full of confidence it's disturbing to think this person has been hiding inside House's little devotee all this time. She should have spotted her sooner. Though if she's honest, the warning signs were there.
The key is alcohol, she discovers when they actually manage to meet for that drink. Here in a public place Cameron is reserved, like she's suddenly remembered who she is, and who Cuddy is, and what that means.
Cuddy orders drinks and watches Cameron get nice and tipsy, till Cameron's hand is sliding along her thigh and she's getting the impression Cameron's about to climb in her lap. In the cab she lets Cameron happily inform the driver of her address and goes with her to her apartment. She screws Cameron with her own vibrator while nibbling on her breasts and feels a whole lot better for it.
She wants to cuddle afterwards, Cameron as affectionate as she is pliable when drunk. And since not all those drinks she picked up the tab for went towards Cameron's looming hangover, she lets Cameron curl up against her, and falls asleep with a hand moving gently on her back.
*
She's talking to House (though berating would be a better word for what she's actually doing) in his office and imagining herself sitting in his chair with Cameron laid out naked over his desk.
It's just as well these encounters with House are so routine they may as well be scripted and she doesn't break her stride except for one traitorous glance next door where all three of his staff are assembled.
She worries about House finding out. He always knows, sooner or later, everything she doesn't want him to. Just as she worries about how idle fantasies that never involved Cameron have been overtaken, transformed by this woman she still isn't sure she even likes all that much.
*
"No one should end up being hurt by this," she's saying, as she stands over Cameron at the table in the diagnostics lounge. "I know you care about your career, this wouldn't be good for you. Or me, for that matter, or the hospital."
"It wouldn't look good, you mean." Her bristling response is immediate, but she subsides just as quickly. "Sorry. You're trying to let me off easy, and -"
"You're not interested in easy." She sighs. Cameron, stubborn and so determined to be right - she's so young right now and Cuddy feels every day of her almost-forty years in comparison. Shaking her head she asks, "What exactly do you think is going on here?"
"We're sleeping together. I just don't see what is so wrong with that."
She throws up her hands. "God, you're difficult."
Cameron's hands come up too, as she stands and takes hold of Cuddy's face, kissing her. She doesn't exactly pull away and she thinks that probably isn't helping with the point she's trying to make.
Which is probably why Cameron is smirking slightly when she lets her go and says: "Easy's boring," before walking away.
*
Cuddy knocks on Cameron's door feeling predictable and slightly pathetic. She's used to knowing her own mind, making smart choices for the right reasons. It's why she's always been so terrible at relationships.
"House is going to find out and he's going to make both our lives hell," she says when Cameron answers the door. "We'll have to move to Canada and change our names if we want any peace."
Cameron is smiling and tugging on her wrist, drawing her inside, causing Cuddy to wonder what on earth there is to be happy about.
"Jokes," she says, "About strap-ons and lesbian porn, and which one of us wears the pants."
"Well that one's obvious, anyway," Cameron says half under her breath as she works Cuddy's coat off her shoulders. "Do you have a strap-on? I've never tried one."
Cuddy finds her jaw going slack momentarily. "We'll get you one," she says firmly.
Cameron shrugs. "You're the boss."
Cuddy doesn't feel like it.
But rather than panicking or feeling inadequate she might actually be starting to think it makes a nice change.