sheesh.
Brah. My life is sucking. It's Halloween tomorrow, yes? But do I get to have fun? Go trick-or-treating in my apartment building or go to a theme park to get freaked out to death? Noooo...because I have exams. In six weeks. Go figure. Anyway, without further preamble, here's the next chapter of Panic Attack.
I think I'm on a writing spree. Then again, sex is always the easiest to write =D
Title: Panic Attack (3/12)
Fandom: House, MD
Pairing: Thirteen/Cameron
Word Count: 648
Rating: M. Yup, this chapter is what you’ve all been waiting for!
Prompt: #31: Freak-out of the first degree
Warning: Femslash. And if you haven’t seen Wilson’s Heart, go away and come back after you have.
Thirteen’s grateful to have the tube out of her throat and to be able to walk around. Wilson’s always hovering, even though he’s just lost Amber and should be lying at home with his curtains shut. But no, the day he’d come back to get something from his office was the last day he’d spent at home. Thirteen’s told him to go, but he just shakes his head and gets her another pink plastic cup of water. She knows how awful it feels to lose someone, but then to run someone over soon afterward? No, she’ll let him do whatever he wants to make himself feel better.
Cameron always seems to make an appearance too. Even though she’s the head of the ER, Thirteen hasn’t been under her care since her surgeries. Every time she tells Cameron to get back to the ER, coughing slightly as she gets used to speech again, Cameron smiles that beautiful smile of hers and lingers for another ten minutes before she finally heeds what Thirteen says. Of course, Thirteen’s always Remy to her now, because of that strange intimacy they seem to have. When Thirteen’s lying in her bed, pretending to sleep, Cameron stops by sometimes, falteringly smoothing back a lock of hair from Thirteen’s face and then quickly stepping out of the room, like she’s afraid someone will see her. She just did the same thing five minutes ago, her nighttime ritual before she either leaves the hospital with Chase or begins a late shift. Only this time, she added a soft, “Sleep well, Remy,” her floral scent lingering even as she skittered away from the room. Thirteen drifts to sleep with these thoughts.
Several mornings later, she’s restless. Cameron told her the night before that she could leave the next morning, and now she’s taking a shower with the satisfaction of knowing it’ll be her last in this bathroom. As she steps out, she hears a faint, “Remy?” from outside. It can only be Cameron. Wrapping her towel around herself, she sticks her head out. “Yeah?”
“Oh, sorry. I thought you’d checked yourself out early or something.” Cameron’s blushing too much, ten times the normal pink tinge in her skin, even though she’s speaking normally. Thirteen finds herself feeling odd too. She knows what it is, but she tries to deny it. “Nope, just a quick shower before I go home,” she says, smiling. Oh no, her cheeks are going red too, the tips of her glowing ears hidden by her wet hair.
“Well…I’ll come back in a little while then…” Cameron bites her lip, starting to do that skitter again. Before she knows what she’s doing, Thirteen says, “Wait.”
Cameron turns towards her slowly, the color in her face contrasting with her blonde hair as she skitters in Thirteen’s direction instead. “Remy…” she whispers. Thirteen glances outside, then drags Cameron into the bathroom, slamming the door shut with both their bodies. Before they realize, they’re in each others’ mouths. “Allison,” Remy finally manages to reply. She flings the towel off Remy, gazing appreciatively at what’s revealed. Taking advantage of her moment of stunned staring, Remy begins unbuttoning Allison’s shirt and pants and unclasping her bra, all with the skill and speed of a professional. She slides off Allison’s black panties and grins. “You know what they say about women-” but doesn’t get to finish her sentence as three fingers plunge inside her. Her formerly coherent voice turns to begging moans as Allison works her way in and out, thumb on Remy’s clit, tongue working its way down her neck but encountering the plastic wrapping Remy uses to protect her bandages. Slightly disappointed, she focuses solely on making Remy come. Her disappointment lifts when she feels Remy tightening around her, groaning some garbled form of ‘Cam’ as she exits her.
“And now’s your turn,” Remy gasps, beautiful as ever.