Fic: Drinks on the House (3/5)
Title: Drinks on the House
Spoilers: AU after S1. This story was started before S2 began airing. So...yeah. Keep that in mind.
Rating: Work safe (at least, THIS installment).
Word Count: 1,606
Notes: Dedicated to enchanted_april who forced me to finish this. I'm shocked that _vicodin was able to tear herself away from the House episodes on her iPod long enough to beta this.
Midnight had come and gone, and so had he.
For a small eternity after House had walked through her door, Cameron stood, feet planted, staring at the space he’d last occupied. Then, suddenly, something within her seemed to reconnect, and she shuffled into the kitchen, quickly filling and drinking a glass of water.
Her cognitive abilities seemed to come back to her as she filled a second glass. He’d kissed her; that much was obvious. But why? Her mind ticked off the excuses she’d given him. He hadn’t been drunk; she didn’t think he was stupid enough to drive while intoxicated. If not in regard for his own life, then for the safety of his Corvette. He knew what he was doing. And even more, he knew she was in her right mind, as well.
He’d wanted her to remember. But why?
Her eyes ran over the sitting area and her body clenched as her gaze fell upon her present to him. He’d left the tickets. She hurried over to scoop them off the table, and at that instant any rationale she had abandoned her. For some inexplicable reason, it seemed the most important thing in the world for House to have the tickets at this precise moment in time.
She glanced quickly at the clock as it switched over to seven after. He’d left seven minutes ago. It was possible--slim, but possible--that he was still in the parking lot. Maybe the stairs had given him trouble; they certainly would have slowed him down. Maybe the Corvette’s engine wasn’t turning over as quickly as it should. Anything was possible, if admittedly not probable. But she still had to hope.
Cameron flew out of her apartment and took two stairs at a time, tickets clasped in one tiny, desperate fist. Pushing the main door open, her eyes frantically searched the parking lot.
There. Where he’d parked it earlier. The Corvette. And when she squinted in the darkness and the street lights, she saw a vague figure in the driver’s seat. House. He hadn’t left.
Reining in her foolish, relieved grin, Cameron jogged lightly over to the car and knocked quietly on the driver’s side window.
------------------
House pushed his head back into the headrest and groaned. Anxious fingers tapped an uneven pattern on the steering wheel as his eyes slipped closed.
He’d actually kissed her. He’d kissed Allison Cameron, and he hadn’t had an excuse to hide behind.
Despite the alcohol he’d had over the course of the night, he was far from drunk; his tolerance made sure of that. Yes, he had been excited about the tickets, but he would never show it. And the fact that it had been midnight was almost inconsequential.
He scrubbed a hand over his stubble, his mouth. What bothered him was not the kiss, but the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure it was a lapse in logic or sanity.
The knock on the window jolted him out of his reverie, and he opened his eyes to meet the darkened figure of Cameron. Biting back a groan - he wasn’t sure if he could leave twice in one night - he rolled down the window enough so her voice could filter through.
“Miss me already?” he asked, almost snidely.
Cameron held up the manila envelope. “You left this,” she replied simply, slipping it halfway through the window, allowing it to dangle tantalizingly before him.
“Restraining order?”
Her lips quirked into an exasperated grin. “No need for one,” she replied. “You forgot your tickets.”
He tugged the rest of the envelope through the window and tossed it onto the passenger’s seat. Taking a moment to ensure that his defenses weren’t entirely defunct, he rolled down the rest of the window.
“And you saw fit to return them in a completely unnecessary envelope,” he noted. “Typical Allison Cameron.”
She shrugged and leaned closer to him, resting her forearms on the lip of the rolled-down window. “I figure, why break the habit of a lifetime?”
Later - much later, when his breathing had calmed and her still-flushed skin warmed him against the January chill - he would attempt to figure out exactly how everything else happened. Later, his mind would run through every excuse she had provided him, and he would wonder why he was so adamantly against using any of them. He would try to discern these things and come up empty.
Later, he would ponder the words, the emotions, the desires for this woman bouncing around in his head, and come up with this familiar, ever-present ache - but he would find that the ache hadn’t felt this sweet and warm in many years.
But right then, in that moment, his eyes were fixated on her breasts.
------------------
In retrospect, Cameron was glad that she did not perceive the cold surrounding her, or she may not have stayed at House’s car for three extra minutes. She was thankful that in her rush to catch him, she had forgotten to grab her jacket from the coat rack by the door. And in retrospect, she almost had to laugh; in the end, she had won him by pandering to his primal instincts rather than to his ego and intellect. In the end, he had stopped resisting and started welcoming not because of collected logic, but because of tightened, erect nipples and a raised eyebrow.
In that moment, when the weight of her body came to rest on her forearms, she could feel his eyes on her. Even in the dark, in the buzzing light of a dimming streetlamp by her parking lot, she could see him staring, could see him work his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
“Do you like what you see?” she teased softly.
His gaze snapped up to hers, and he somehow took note of her dilating pupils. He idly wondered as to the state of his.
Even more quietly, she added, “There’s more. You have no idea.”
He was not aware of his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. What he was aware of was the feeling of his mouth opening, again, and whatever reply he had - sarcastic, spiteful, or otherwise - dying in his throat. He felt his eyes narrow minutely, and he cleared his throat and parted his lips to try again.
The breeze picked up and she shivered, and the moment was lost. She rose and pushed away from the car, her hands clenching into small fists at her sides before rising to cross her chest, her right thumb idly tracing a path over her shirt sleeve. For all her candor moments before, she was suddenly feeling quite nervous.
“I’m…” she tried, her eyes darting around the parking lot before she forced them back onto House. “I’m going back inside to warm up. It’s…getting colder.” A pause, then, “You might want to rethink your decision to brave the roads tonight. Lots of crazies out there.” She dropped her gaze as she added, “You can…stay. If you want.” And as soon as those words were out, she turned and tried not to run as she made her way back to her apartment.
------------------
Cameron paced in her kitchen, her teeth distractedly biting at a thumbnail, as her mind screamed a litany of congratulations and horrified treatises at the fact that she’d just given House - her boss, the emotionally unavailable man to whom she was attracted - a carte blanche to sleep with her.
She’d also done what she absolutely hated, and left the invitation on uncertain terms. She’d left him sitting in his car in the parking lot, unsure of whether or not he would even follow. She needed to know, one way or the other, but adamantly refused to stoop to the level of peering out the window to see if he was even still there.
She was therefore startled by the knock at the door. She hurried over and opened it, and her eyes immediately sought out those of the man before her. Of House. She had offered, and he had followed.
He said nothing as he walked into her apartment, instead settling to watch her as she locked the door and turned to face him again. Dropping his gaze, he tapped his cane against the ground a few times before meeting her eyes once again and saying, “So, the walk up your steps earlier tonight took a lot out of me, and in combination with alcohol, does not a safe driver make. Looks like you’re stuck with me for the night.”
Cameron bit the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from surfacing. She didn’t want to scare him away, now that he was finally here.
“Well, that might be a problem, seeing as I don’t have a guest room, and I think you’re too big for my couch,” she replied simply.
House murmured noncommittally, his eyes traveling from her eyes to her lips to the top of her blouse, where he could once again see the slight swell of her breasts. His eyes narrowed as he reached out a somewhat-uncertain hand to cup the weight of one, running a thumb lightly across the nipple.
“I believe you’ve lied to me, Dr. Cameron,” he stated, his grasp becoming more firm. “These are obviously not in the same condition they were outside.”
Cameron gasped as his thumb retraced its path, pressing down a bit harder, lingering a bit longer. She managed to reply, “Maybe you should do something about that.”
He dragged his eyes back up her body to meet hers. “Maybe I should,” he said in agreement, before leaning down to capture her lips with his.
Spoilers: AU after S1. This story was started before S2 began airing. So...yeah. Keep that in mind.
Rating: Work safe (at least, THIS installment).
Word Count: 1,606
Notes: Dedicated to enchanted_april who forced me to finish this. I'm shocked that _vicodin was able to tear herself away from the House episodes on her iPod long enough to beta this.
Midnight had come and gone, and so had he.
For a small eternity after House had walked through her door, Cameron stood, feet planted, staring at the space he’d last occupied. Then, suddenly, something within her seemed to reconnect, and she shuffled into the kitchen, quickly filling and drinking a glass of water.
Her cognitive abilities seemed to come back to her as she filled a second glass. He’d kissed her; that much was obvious. But why? Her mind ticked off the excuses she’d given him. He hadn’t been drunk; she didn’t think he was stupid enough to drive while intoxicated. If not in regard for his own life, then for the safety of his Corvette. He knew what he was doing. And even more, he knew she was in her right mind, as well.
He’d wanted her to remember. But why?
Her eyes ran over the sitting area and her body clenched as her gaze fell upon her present to him. He’d left the tickets. She hurried over to scoop them off the table, and at that instant any rationale she had abandoned her. For some inexplicable reason, it seemed the most important thing in the world for House to have the tickets at this precise moment in time.
She glanced quickly at the clock as it switched over to seven after. He’d left seven minutes ago. It was possible--slim, but possible--that he was still in the parking lot. Maybe the stairs had given him trouble; they certainly would have slowed him down. Maybe the Corvette’s engine wasn’t turning over as quickly as it should. Anything was possible, if admittedly not probable. But she still had to hope.
Cameron flew out of her apartment and took two stairs at a time, tickets clasped in one tiny, desperate fist. Pushing the main door open, her eyes frantically searched the parking lot.
There. Where he’d parked it earlier. The Corvette. And when she squinted in the darkness and the street lights, she saw a vague figure in the driver’s seat. House. He hadn’t left.
Reining in her foolish, relieved grin, Cameron jogged lightly over to the car and knocked quietly on the driver’s side window.
------------------
House pushed his head back into the headrest and groaned. Anxious fingers tapped an uneven pattern on the steering wheel as his eyes slipped closed.
He’d actually kissed her. He’d kissed Allison Cameron, and he hadn’t had an excuse to hide behind.
Despite the alcohol he’d had over the course of the night, he was far from drunk; his tolerance made sure of that. Yes, he had been excited about the tickets, but he would never show it. And the fact that it had been midnight was almost inconsequential.
He scrubbed a hand over his stubble, his mouth. What bothered him was not the kiss, but the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure it was a lapse in logic or sanity.
The knock on the window jolted him out of his reverie, and he opened his eyes to meet the darkened figure of Cameron. Biting back a groan - he wasn’t sure if he could leave twice in one night - he rolled down the window enough so her voice could filter through.
“Miss me already?” he asked, almost snidely.
Cameron held up the manila envelope. “You left this,” she replied simply, slipping it halfway through the window, allowing it to dangle tantalizingly before him.
“Restraining order?”
Her lips quirked into an exasperated grin. “No need for one,” she replied. “You forgot your tickets.”
He tugged the rest of the envelope through the window and tossed it onto the passenger’s seat. Taking a moment to ensure that his defenses weren’t entirely defunct, he rolled down the rest of the window.
“And you saw fit to return them in a completely unnecessary envelope,” he noted. “Typical Allison Cameron.”
She shrugged and leaned closer to him, resting her forearms on the lip of the rolled-down window. “I figure, why break the habit of a lifetime?”
Later - much later, when his breathing had calmed and her still-flushed skin warmed him against the January chill - he would attempt to figure out exactly how everything else happened. Later, his mind would run through every excuse she had provided him, and he would wonder why he was so adamantly against using any of them. He would try to discern these things and come up empty.
Later, he would ponder the words, the emotions, the desires for this woman bouncing around in his head, and come up with this familiar, ever-present ache - but he would find that the ache hadn’t felt this sweet and warm in many years.
But right then, in that moment, his eyes were fixated on her breasts.
------------------
In retrospect, Cameron was glad that she did not perceive the cold surrounding her, or she may not have stayed at House’s car for three extra minutes. She was thankful that in her rush to catch him, she had forgotten to grab her jacket from the coat rack by the door. And in retrospect, she almost had to laugh; in the end, she had won him by pandering to his primal instincts rather than to his ego and intellect. In the end, he had stopped resisting and started welcoming not because of collected logic, but because of tightened, erect nipples and a raised eyebrow.
In that moment, when the weight of her body came to rest on her forearms, she could feel his eyes on her. Even in the dark, in the buzzing light of a dimming streetlamp by her parking lot, she could see him staring, could see him work his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
“Do you like what you see?” she teased softly.
His gaze snapped up to hers, and he somehow took note of her dilating pupils. He idly wondered as to the state of his.
Even more quietly, she added, “There’s more. You have no idea.”
He was not aware of his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. What he was aware of was the feeling of his mouth opening, again, and whatever reply he had - sarcastic, spiteful, or otherwise - dying in his throat. He felt his eyes narrow minutely, and he cleared his throat and parted his lips to try again.
The breeze picked up and she shivered, and the moment was lost. She rose and pushed away from the car, her hands clenching into small fists at her sides before rising to cross her chest, her right thumb idly tracing a path over her shirt sleeve. For all her candor moments before, she was suddenly feeling quite nervous.
“I’m…” she tried, her eyes darting around the parking lot before she forced them back onto House. “I’m going back inside to warm up. It’s…getting colder.” A pause, then, “You might want to rethink your decision to brave the roads tonight. Lots of crazies out there.” She dropped her gaze as she added, “You can…stay. If you want.” And as soon as those words were out, she turned and tried not to run as she made her way back to her apartment.
------------------
Cameron paced in her kitchen, her teeth distractedly biting at a thumbnail, as her mind screamed a litany of congratulations and horrified treatises at the fact that she’d just given House - her boss, the emotionally unavailable man to whom she was attracted - a carte blanche to sleep with her.
She’d also done what she absolutely hated, and left the invitation on uncertain terms. She’d left him sitting in his car in the parking lot, unsure of whether or not he would even follow. She needed to know, one way or the other, but adamantly refused to stoop to the level of peering out the window to see if he was even still there.
She was therefore startled by the knock at the door. She hurried over and opened it, and her eyes immediately sought out those of the man before her. Of House. She had offered, and he had followed.
He said nothing as he walked into her apartment, instead settling to watch her as she locked the door and turned to face him again. Dropping his gaze, he tapped his cane against the ground a few times before meeting her eyes once again and saying, “So, the walk up your steps earlier tonight took a lot out of me, and in combination with alcohol, does not a safe driver make. Looks like you’re stuck with me for the night.”
Cameron bit the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from surfacing. She didn’t want to scare him away, now that he was finally here.
“Well, that might be a problem, seeing as I don’t have a guest room, and I think you’re too big for my couch,” she replied simply.
House murmured noncommittally, his eyes traveling from her eyes to her lips to the top of her blouse, where he could once again see the slight swell of her breasts. His eyes narrowed as he reached out a somewhat-uncertain hand to cup the weight of one, running a thumb lightly across the nipple.
“I believe you’ve lied to me, Dr. Cameron,” he stated, his grasp becoming more firm. “These are obviously not in the same condition they were outside.”
Cameron gasped as his thumb retraced its path, pressing down a bit harder, lingering a bit longer. She managed to reply, “Maybe you should do something about that.”
He dragged his eyes back up her body to meet hers. “Maybe I should,” he said in agreement, before leaning down to capture her lips with his.