(no subject)
Another writing exercise of some sort, and trying out a different style more than anything else. And oh, snark is much fun to write... unless you run out of steam like I did, and start resorting to dirty jokes as humour. *le sigh*
Title: How the West was Won
Genre: Established House/Cameron
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1,796
Summary: Cameron manages to get House to do something not particularly House-like, and he's not happy about it.
Disclaimer: If I owned Gregory House, and if you think I'd ever let him out of bed, my name would be David Shore.
Warning: Also contains OOC on the parts of House and Cameron because she takes her leather outfit a bit too seriously and he likes it.
Btw, if you even snerk/chuckle/laugh, please leave a comment. I'm proprietary like that.
Next up, a reusing of a CRACK fic I used for another fandom... I think.
-------------------------------------
The ambush started a little something like this:
“Greg…”
“Less talking, more… clenching.”
A finger slid up his thigh, causing a near detonation in the oh-so-brilliant mind of one Gregory House.
“… that’s better…” he managed to groan out.
As she straddled him, her smile widened as she took him in inch by inch.
“… you’re killing me, woman…”
Breathy, and all conniving woman (represent!) at the moment, she leaned in and whispered as she began to increase her motions, “Greg, I want you..."
He made an incoherent noise.
She tightened those muscles that he liked so much, and continued whispering in his ear, "...to say two nice things about me… a day.”
“Oh god yes…”
The discussion started a little something like this:
“You guys did it in my office?!?!” Wilson’s voice screeched incredulously.
House shrugged. “Thanks for saving me the time to put that notification out in the classifieds and hey! Less talking about you. More about ME. Can you believe what Allison did?!”
Wilson watched as his friend limped around his office in clear agitation.
“Using sex as a weapon! I can’t believe that she would do such a thing!”
The oncologist quirked his brow. “I thought you encouraged that sort of thing.”
“That’s beside the point! Two nice things a day? Here she was with her Miss Sunshine and warm and fuzzies and Miss Innocent School Girl act, and…”
“With the thigh high socks?”
House rapped his cane sharply against the other man’s shins. “Focus, Wilson, Focus! I’ll thank you not to think about my girl… uhh…”
“HAH!! You called her your girlfriend!!” Wilson crowed while pointing his finger at his supposed best friend and practically doing a jig in the process. He also groaned promptly when he realized that this meant that Cuddy had won the bet, and what he would owe her.
“No, I didn’t,” the diagnostician said cautiously, “Technically, I called her my girl.”
“Oh, shut up, House. Isn’t it you who keeps telling us that everyone lies?”
His response was to ignore Wilson. “So, it’s another one of her woman-mind tricks. She’s trying to manipulate me into being two steps shy of a plush toy.”
“Trust me, Greg. No one will mistake you for being a teddy bear.”
As if he hadn’t heard Wilson, he began pacing again. “That sneaky woman… well I’m not going to let her win. I’m going to have to get her back.”
The younger doctor laughed. “And how are you going to do that? Hold out on her?”
Pausing, he rolled his eyes. “There’s no need to deprive either of us that way. Really, Wilson.”
Wilson threw his hands up and surrendered. “Fine, fine. Let’s hear your great master plan then, oh evil genius.”
The plan went a little something like this:
“Good morning, my lovely employees!” House announced, limping into the office with uncharacteristic good cheer. “Coffees all around. Foreman, you like yours black right?”
“Uh yeah,” the neurologist replied hesitantly, and looking for the telltale smirk of House’s lips.
There was none.
“And tea for the prettiest one of them all. Oh, besides myself of course. Here, you go, Cameron.”
She blinked.
“So, any cases today?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee and limping around the office as he did so.
“No.”
“That’s good. I can start working on those clinic hours of mine. And you three… consider this as a spare. Toodles!”
Somehow, the once-cranky doctor managed to limp out with his cane, coffee, and a cute little wave that would’ve done the Queen Mother proud.
“Who the hell was that?” Chase asked.
“I think he poisoned the coffee, man. He’s finally lost it, and he’s had it with us. And he’s just poisoning us.”
Cameron sipped her tea, a smirk appearing as she did so. “I think this means it’s war.”
The plan continued on a little something like this (without success):
“Well, are you having any luck with it?”
House looked up and snapped at his friend in exasperation, “No, but I’m getting facial spasms from smiling so much. I think Satan has officially disowned me too what with the being friendly and nice bit.”
“If it helps any, Cuddy’s really close to having you committed.”
He tapped his chin as if giving the idea great thought. “Hmm, might not be too bad. Restrictive bondage clothing, roof over my head, food to eat…”
“No sex?”
“Well, depends on how you define sex.”
Wilson groaned. “I did NOT need that mental image at all.”
“Now you know how I feel when you first told me about you and Cuddy.”
“Why don’t you just make her run pointless lab tests repeatedly as punishment?”
House made a face. “Quelle horreur! That’s so juvenile of you to suggest something like that, Jimmy, though I suppose that’s why Cuddy likes you so much. Ditching experience in exchange for… something, but not stamina though.”
“At least I’m not the one who has to say nice things about his girl.”
“Don’t remind me. You’d think that sex counts as ONE nice thing, or that doing PLENTY of nice things to that body counts for something but she’s playing hard ball.”
Wilson tried hard to keep a straight face, and failed miserably. “Right now, the only balls she’s playing with are yours, and probably not the ones you’re hoping for.” He pointed straight ahead, through his office and through that lovely, just Windex-ed glass wall where Cameron juggled his balls happily.
The plan continued chugging along (while dying a slow painful death) a little something like this:
“… I think he’s sulking, Foreman.”
House’s cane whacked sharply against his desk. “I think he can HEAR you through the open door, Wombat. Clearly you haven’t completed your daily quota of pelvic exams today.”
Hiding his hand behind his mouth, Foreman fought hard not to snicker.
“And Foreman, don’t you have to some place to be? Things to steal? People to get jiggy with? Children to kiss? No wait, that’s Chase, and you make SURE you do that only after you’ve checked out all those geriatrics that I’ve got lined up for that pelvic exam.”
“He’s just pissed off cos’ he’s not getting laid,” the blonde doctor grumbled.
“No, I AM getting laid and without having to drug the girl too. It’s a wonderful experience. You should try it sometimes.”
“I did NOT drug Cameron!!!”
“The pelvises are waiting...” House singsonged from inside his office with his legs propped up on the desk. He threw his favourite red and yellow ball up in the air (thank goodness he had that stashed in a locked drawer), and smirked when he heard the tell-tale dragging of feet out the door.
Finally, he was alone. Now he could plan.
“Honestly, you’re so juvenile, and you’re such a sore loser.”
His head snapped up to see Cameron standing there, one hand perched on her hip and a smug smile on her face.
“Well you’re sleeping with me, so what does that make you?”
She laughed and sauntered over, lab coat swishing around her as she did so. For some reason, House sensed impending doom.
“Nice comeback, Greg. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
“As a matter of fact…”
“Okay, NO need to go there,” Cameron shushed him quickly, fingers upon his lips. “We are at work you know. And we’re doctors, respectable pillars of our community.”
She nudged his legs off the table so she could sit on top of it while crossing her slim legs. House nearly choked but recovered just in time. “And I have nothing but respect for your body.”
“It was childish of you, taking away those balls like that,” she chided.
“So were you when you ambushed me this morning.” He watched in a daze as she swung one pretty limb back and forth. “Stop it, woman! I have diagnoses to think about!”
“Liar,” she told him as she leaned closer, offering him a view. It was strange how snark disappeared in the face of breasts.
“I… have to work.” He almost sounded like he was whimpering.
She annihilated his battleship. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”
The moral of the story went a little something like this:
“So, she’s learned her lesson?” Wilson asked, eyebrow shooting sky high in disbelief.
House leaned back, and told him smugly, “Yes. You have to keep a firm hand on them, or a cane in this instance. Who knew Allison was into that sort of thing?” Then he reached out and crooned to his cane, “Oh the places you’ve been. We could write stories about it!”
The oncologist blanched. “Oh for the love of God NO. Stop telling me these kind of things.”
“A good old fashioned spanking. A little tap with the love cane and she was all better. Mind you, I did kinda like it when she returned the favour.”
“STOP IT, HOUSE. Picturing HER ass is one thing, but YOURS?”
House whacked him in the shins once more. “Stop thinking about her ass! I told you never to think about my girlfriend’s ass that way!” He smirked. “That would be nice thing #1.”
“Somehow, I doubt Cameron sees that as a nice thing.”
“Oh but she does!” he told his friend with a waggle of his finger.
“Well, she’d have to BE here for it to count as one thing - not that it does.”
“What makes you think she isn’t? Allison? Honey? SNOOKUMS? OW!!!”
Wilson stared at House who was rubbing his good leg while glaring underneath the table.
“You’ve GOT to be kidding me.”
From beneath House’s desk, Cameron casually got to her feet. “Hey Wilson.”
“OH MY GOD.”
“What?” the pretty brunette asked with wide-eyed innocence. “I had to check for something loose down there.”
“Ooooh! That was good!” he commented before telling his friend with the widest grin, “She promised two snarks a day in exchange for two nice comments.”
Wilson continued staring.
“Ratting me out wasn’t nice, Greg. You’re back at zero for the day,” she told him with a huff, turning around and walking out of his office.
Tilting his head, House sighed and admired the view before rapping Wilson with the cane once more.
“Damnit, House! Do I look like Cameron to you?”
“Well she doesn’t like it in the shins, I can tell you that much.”
“I’ll never be able to look at your desk again.”
The diagnostician grinned. “In which case you should stay clear from a number of desks then.”
Wilson groaned, and buried his face in his hands.
“And oh, by the way, can you get Cuddy out of her office by five? Allison really likes how big and roomy it is.”
“God, you’re whipped.”
“Oh goody! Whips! Another one to add to our list!”
Title: How the West was Won
Genre: Established House/Cameron
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1,796
Summary: Cameron manages to get House to do something not particularly House-like, and he's not happy about it.
Disclaimer: If I owned Gregory House, and if you think I'd ever let him out of bed, my name would be David Shore.
Warning: Also contains OOC on the parts of House and Cameron because she takes her leather outfit a bit too seriously and he likes it.
Btw, if you even snerk/chuckle/laugh, please leave a comment. I'm proprietary like that.
Next up, a reusing of a CRACK fic I used for another fandom... I think.
-------------------------------------
The ambush started a little something like this:
“Greg…”
“Less talking, more… clenching.”
A finger slid up his thigh, causing a near detonation in the oh-so-brilliant mind of one Gregory House.
“… that’s better…” he managed to groan out.
As she straddled him, her smile widened as she took him in inch by inch.
“… you’re killing me, woman…”
Breathy, and all conniving woman (represent!) at the moment, she leaned in and whispered as she began to increase her motions, “Greg, I want you..."
He made an incoherent noise.
She tightened those muscles that he liked so much, and continued whispering in his ear, "...to say two nice things about me… a day.”
“Oh god yes…”
The discussion started a little something like this:
“You guys did it in my office?!?!” Wilson’s voice screeched incredulously.
House shrugged. “Thanks for saving me the time to put that notification out in the classifieds and hey! Less talking about you. More about ME. Can you believe what Allison did?!”
Wilson watched as his friend limped around his office in clear agitation.
“Using sex as a weapon! I can’t believe that she would do such a thing!”
The oncologist quirked his brow. “I thought you encouraged that sort of thing.”
“That’s beside the point! Two nice things a day? Here she was with her Miss Sunshine and warm and fuzzies and Miss Innocent School Girl act, and…”
“With the thigh high socks?”
House rapped his cane sharply against the other man’s shins. “Focus, Wilson, Focus! I’ll thank you not to think about my girl… uhh…”
“HAH!! You called her your girlfriend!!” Wilson crowed while pointing his finger at his supposed best friend and practically doing a jig in the process. He also groaned promptly when he realized that this meant that Cuddy had won the bet, and what he would owe her.
“No, I didn’t,” the diagnostician said cautiously, “Technically, I called her my girl.”
“Oh, shut up, House. Isn’t it you who keeps telling us that everyone lies?”
His response was to ignore Wilson. “So, it’s another one of her woman-mind tricks. She’s trying to manipulate me into being two steps shy of a plush toy.”
“Trust me, Greg. No one will mistake you for being a teddy bear.”
As if he hadn’t heard Wilson, he began pacing again. “That sneaky woman… well I’m not going to let her win. I’m going to have to get her back.”
The younger doctor laughed. “And how are you going to do that? Hold out on her?”
Pausing, he rolled his eyes. “There’s no need to deprive either of us that way. Really, Wilson.”
Wilson threw his hands up and surrendered. “Fine, fine. Let’s hear your great master plan then, oh evil genius.”
The plan went a little something like this:
“Good morning, my lovely employees!” House announced, limping into the office with uncharacteristic good cheer. “Coffees all around. Foreman, you like yours black right?”
“Uh yeah,” the neurologist replied hesitantly, and looking for the telltale smirk of House’s lips.
There was none.
“And tea for the prettiest one of them all. Oh, besides myself of course. Here, you go, Cameron.”
She blinked.
“So, any cases today?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee and limping around the office as he did so.
“No.”
“That’s good. I can start working on those clinic hours of mine. And you three… consider this as a spare. Toodles!”
Somehow, the once-cranky doctor managed to limp out with his cane, coffee, and a cute little wave that would’ve done the Queen Mother proud.
“Who the hell was that?” Chase asked.
“I think he poisoned the coffee, man. He’s finally lost it, and he’s had it with us. And he’s just poisoning us.”
Cameron sipped her tea, a smirk appearing as she did so. “I think this means it’s war.”
The plan continued on a little something like this (without success):
“Well, are you having any luck with it?”
House looked up and snapped at his friend in exasperation, “No, but I’m getting facial spasms from smiling so much. I think Satan has officially disowned me too what with the being friendly and nice bit.”
“If it helps any, Cuddy’s really close to having you committed.”
He tapped his chin as if giving the idea great thought. “Hmm, might not be too bad. Restrictive bondage clothing, roof over my head, food to eat…”
“No sex?”
“Well, depends on how you define sex.”
Wilson groaned. “I did NOT need that mental image at all.”
“Now you know how I feel when you first told me about you and Cuddy.”
“Why don’t you just make her run pointless lab tests repeatedly as punishment?”
House made a face. “Quelle horreur! That’s so juvenile of you to suggest something like that, Jimmy, though I suppose that’s why Cuddy likes you so much. Ditching experience in exchange for… something, but not stamina though.”
“At least I’m not the one who has to say nice things about his girl.”
“Don’t remind me. You’d think that sex counts as ONE nice thing, or that doing PLENTY of nice things to that body counts for something but she’s playing hard ball.”
Wilson tried hard to keep a straight face, and failed miserably. “Right now, the only balls she’s playing with are yours, and probably not the ones you’re hoping for.” He pointed straight ahead, through his office and through that lovely, just Windex-ed glass wall where Cameron juggled his balls happily.
The plan continued chugging along (while dying a slow painful death) a little something like this:
“… I think he’s sulking, Foreman.”
House’s cane whacked sharply against his desk. “I think he can HEAR you through the open door, Wombat. Clearly you haven’t completed your daily quota of pelvic exams today.”
Hiding his hand behind his mouth, Foreman fought hard not to snicker.
“And Foreman, don’t you have to some place to be? Things to steal? People to get jiggy with? Children to kiss? No wait, that’s Chase, and you make SURE you do that only after you’ve checked out all those geriatrics that I’ve got lined up for that pelvic exam.”
“He’s just pissed off cos’ he’s not getting laid,” the blonde doctor grumbled.
“No, I AM getting laid and without having to drug the girl too. It’s a wonderful experience. You should try it sometimes.”
“I did NOT drug Cameron!!!”
“The pelvises are waiting...” House singsonged from inside his office with his legs propped up on the desk. He threw his favourite red and yellow ball up in the air (thank goodness he had that stashed in a locked drawer), and smirked when he heard the tell-tale dragging of feet out the door.
Finally, he was alone. Now he could plan.
“Honestly, you’re so juvenile, and you’re such a sore loser.”
His head snapped up to see Cameron standing there, one hand perched on her hip and a smug smile on her face.
“Well you’re sleeping with me, so what does that make you?”
She laughed and sauntered over, lab coat swishing around her as she did so. For some reason, House sensed impending doom.
“Nice comeback, Greg. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
“As a matter of fact…”
“Okay, NO need to go there,” Cameron shushed him quickly, fingers upon his lips. “We are at work you know. And we’re doctors, respectable pillars of our community.”
She nudged his legs off the table so she could sit on top of it while crossing her slim legs. House nearly choked but recovered just in time. “And I have nothing but respect for your body.”
“It was childish of you, taking away those balls like that,” she chided.
“So were you when you ambushed me this morning.” He watched in a daze as she swung one pretty limb back and forth. “Stop it, woman! I have diagnoses to think about!”
“Liar,” she told him as she leaned closer, offering him a view. It was strange how snark disappeared in the face of breasts.
“I… have to work.” He almost sounded like he was whimpering.
She annihilated his battleship. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”
The moral of the story went a little something like this:
“So, she’s learned her lesson?” Wilson asked, eyebrow shooting sky high in disbelief.
House leaned back, and told him smugly, “Yes. You have to keep a firm hand on them, or a cane in this instance. Who knew Allison was into that sort of thing?” Then he reached out and crooned to his cane, “Oh the places you’ve been. We could write stories about it!”
The oncologist blanched. “Oh for the love of God NO. Stop telling me these kind of things.”
“A good old fashioned spanking. A little tap with the love cane and she was all better. Mind you, I did kinda like it when she returned the favour.”
“STOP IT, HOUSE. Picturing HER ass is one thing, but YOURS?”
House whacked him in the shins once more. “Stop thinking about her ass! I told you never to think about my girlfriend’s ass that way!” He smirked. “That would be nice thing #1.”
“Somehow, I doubt Cameron sees that as a nice thing.”
“Oh but she does!” he told his friend with a waggle of his finger.
“Well, she’d have to BE here for it to count as one thing - not that it does.”
“What makes you think she isn’t? Allison? Honey? SNOOKUMS? OW!!!”
Wilson stared at House who was rubbing his good leg while glaring underneath the table.
“You’ve GOT to be kidding me.”
From beneath House’s desk, Cameron casually got to her feet. “Hey Wilson.”
“OH MY GOD.”
“What?” the pretty brunette asked with wide-eyed innocence. “I had to check for something loose down there.”
“Ooooh! That was good!” he commented before telling his friend with the widest grin, “She promised two snarks a day in exchange for two nice comments.”
Wilson continued staring.
“Ratting me out wasn’t nice, Greg. You’re back at zero for the day,” she told him with a huff, turning around and walking out of his office.
Tilting his head, House sighed and admired the view before rapping Wilson with the cane once more.
“Damnit, House! Do I look like Cameron to you?”
“Well she doesn’t like it in the shins, I can tell you that much.”
“I’ll never be able to look at your desk again.”
The diagnostician grinned. “In which case you should stay clear from a number of desks then.”
Wilson groaned, and buried his face in his hands.
“And oh, by the way, can you get Cuddy out of her office by five? Allison really likes how big and roomy it is.”
“God, you’re whipped.”
“Oh goody! Whips! Another one to add to our list!”