"House, stop this. Please."

House's eyes lifted from the bandage to her eyes. "I'm going to trial. One more day and the deal expires. I just need to make it through that."

Cameron sighed deeply with closed eyes. "If that's what you want."

"It is." He said this with finality, and expecting her to leave.

"Cutting isn't the only activity that releases endorphins."

House rolled his eyes. "Dr. Cameron, are you proposing to sleep with me, as a medical treatment?"

"I propose we start with kissing and escalate fairly slow, if we have to make it 24 hours."

It was working already; she had propositioned him, and he felt his pulse elevate, his breathing quicken and deepen. He was beyond refusing any kind of high. He lowered his chin slightly in an almost imperceptible nod.

Their faces were only inches apart. Cameron closed the distance, pressing her lips to his. He didn't respond. She opened her eyes to observe his expression: closed eyes, furrowed brow. She licked his lips, and they parted for her. She let loose, gave him her most erotic kiss. Not exactly the situation of her dreams, but it was far better than nothing.

When she broke the kiss, her hands were gripping his face, while his were still at his sides. She looked into his eyes, questioningly. "How do you feel?"

He gave a weak half smirk. "You're not Vicodin."

"Well you're not eggnog." She stood up and held out a hand for him. "Show me your bed."

House stood up with a wince, and leaned heavily on her as they made their way to his room. It was a wreck: the bed unmade, dirty clothes littering the floor. He paused inside the door, but she climbed determinedly across the bed and lay on her side.

He lay down on the near side of the bed and stared at the ceiling. "You don't have to do this."

She leaned over him and kissed him again, this time using both hands to rub his ears. He recognized this as a strategy to trigger neurotransmitters. He pulled away. "That's so clinical."

Cameron lowered her head to run her tongue behind his ear, then scraped her teeth along the lobe. She whispered, "The hotter you are, the less pain you'll be in. So tell me what you do like." She kissed, sucked, and nipped at his neck.

"I like that," he admitted.

Cameron kissed him, harder and deeper. This time he kissed her back and raised his hands to rest on her back. She took this as a good sign. "I'm serious House."

House grabbed her and rolled her onto her back with surprising agility. "I'm serious too."

Minutes ticked by while they made out vigorously. He groped her breasts through her tight, black sweater; her fingers clutched in his hair. Her cell phone rang in her pocket, and she flipped it open. "It's Cuddy. If you think of something I could say to trigger endorphins, I'll try to work it in." She pressed a button to answer, while House continued to kiss her neck and décolletage. "Cameron. pause I won't be back today. I need to take a personal day—tomorrow too. pause Well I have a patient too, thanks to you."

"Proposition her."

Cameron's eyes closed, and she trembled. "Dr. Cuddy, if you're so anxious to see me, you can come over. I'll fuck you too." House groaned against her throat. Whatever Cuddy said in response to this caused Cameron to sigh heavily. "If you really care, call in a prescription and I'll go pick it up."

House pulled down on Cameron's v-neck to expose the cups of her bra, and ran his tongue along the edge. He whispered into her cleavage, "Fuck right."

"Cuddy, I hope for your sake you reconsider. Because when she dies, I'm going to tell the review board that I hold you completely responsible. 'First do no harm.'" Cameron rang off, and tossed the phone down in the bed. She nudged House's face away from her chest gently. "How do you feel?"

"It's not as good as cutting myself."

"Then it's too vanilla." She crossed her arms, gripped the hem of her sweater, and pulled it over her head, revealing her black lace bra. "Tell me a fantasy."

"I want to fuck you. Loose the pants."

"You're right, you're in too much pain to talk." She opened her pants, then lifted her ass off the bed to slip them off.

House ran his hands over her, began to kiss and lick every inch of skin and lace she had just exposed. "You tell me one."

Cameron closed her eyes. She stretched the vignette out, a phrase at a time. "When we're doing a differential, if I answer well enough, you'll reward me right there in the conference room. While Chase and Foreman are still dumbstruck by my brilliance, you'll grab me, and spin me to face the table, my palms resting on it. Then you'll reach around to unbutton and pull down my pants, open yours, and fuck me hard from behind."

"Anywhere else in the hospital?"

"You know the stepstool in the lab—sometimes when I'm in there running tests I imagine that you're sitting on it, between my legs, eating me out."

In response, House mouthed her through the lace of her panties. "More."

"If we find ourselves in the elevator alone, I always think about reaching out to hit the e-stop. Then, when you ask me that the fuck I'm doing, I'll say, 'you,' and kneel in front of you. I'll unzip your pants, and peel them open just enough to expose your gorgeous cock."

House kissed her neck, grazed her earlobe with his teeth. His hand was rubbing her through her panties, which were sodden and bunched up between her lips. He could have quite easily slipped a finger around them to touch her directly. She was grinding against his hand. Squirming. Begging for it. But he didn't. He was sweating, panting. "More."

"I'll take your gorgeous cock in my mouth, and suck on the tip, and cup your balls in my hand. Then, before you can get used to it, I'll suddenly shock you by taking you all the way down my throat."

"Can you do that?"

"I'll show you later. And when I feel like you're going to come, I'll pull you out because I want you to come on my face."

He kissed her mouth, then spoke before trailing down her belly again." I'm going to come in my pants."

"Plenty more where that came from, I'm sure. You know where else I want to give you head? In the clinic. Sometimes I come in and find you in alone, sitting on the exam table, and it takes all my resolve not to lock the door behind me when I come in. I want to lock the door, stand in front of you and suck you off, then ride you on the table."

"You only think about me at work?" He lay on his stomach, licking and sucking, still through the panties.

"No. I think about you all the time. Ah!" She writhed below him. "I'm going to come."

"Tell me."

"I can't remember the last time I touched myself without thinking of you. Oh, ungh…When I'm in the shower, I'm imagining that any second you might pull back the curtain and fuck me hard against the wall. When I'm in bed, I imagine you under the sheets, making me scream your name." She shuddered as she came, yelling, "House!"

They heard the front door open and Wilson calling, "House, are you here?"

House groaned and rolled onto his back. "Do you want to hide under the bed?"

Cameron kicked her knee over so she sat straddling his hips. "No."

It was at this point Wilson came in. "Cameron, what the hell are you doing?"

She bent down to kiss House, then whispered in his ear, "Tell me what you want."

"Answer him."

Cameron turned to face Wilson, and looked him in the eye. "What the fuck does it look like I'm doing? Why are you here." She slid her hands under the hem of House's shirt, massaged his chest.

"Cuddy told me what you said…we need you back at the hospital."

Cameron shook her head. "You need House back at the hospital; House needs Vicodin. Until that happens, I'll be here." She heard House wince, looked down at him and spoke more softly. "How're we doing?" He shook his head.

Cameron reached back to caress his erection through his pajama pants, eliciting a groan. She looked up at Wilson. "Time for his medicine, are you going to stay and watch?" She turned to House. "Do we like that he's watching?"

"No, get him the fuck out of here. Get his key."

She stood up, walked toward Wilson, and frog-marched him out of the bedroom. She stood before him in her bra and saturated lace panties, holding out a hand for his key.

"Cameron, you know he'd be better off taking the deal," he said as he fumbled with his key ring."

"And you know it wasn't your place to decide that. He's not taking anything, he wants to stand trial: he has the right to make these decisions. That it's not what you or I want him to do is completely irrelevant. He's in pain, and I'm giving him all the help he's willing to take. If you don't have any help he's willing to take, get out."

He turned and walked toward the door. "He'll use you and then throw you away." With that, he slammed the front door behind him.

"Better that than the alternative." She filled a glass with water and carried it to the bedroom, handed it to him.

"I'd rather have scotch."

"I'd rather have George Clooney; we have to take what we can get. Would you be too cold with your clothes off?"

He shrugged, and she took this as a yes. He polished off the water and set the glass on the nightstand as he crawled between his knees. As she freed his cock, he propped his head higher with a second pillow. She made eye contact with him. Her pink tongue flicked out to circle the head. Keeping her promise, she deep-throated him on the first stroke. "Fuck, Cameron."

He tangled his fingers in her hair, just to feel the sensation of it rising and falling in time with her movements. He stared up at the ceiling. The pain was still there, but hazy enough to bear easily. Meanwhile, it was still distracting. Cameron's head bobbed enthusiastically, then determinedly, then with obvious fatigue. House wrapped his thumb around her throat to catch her attention.

"It's not your fault. I can't easily…with no painkillers."

She slid up to lie beside him. "Better than cutting?"

"Pfft. Yeah." He grabbed her panties at her hips and slid them down, and she kicked them off her ankles. He ran two fingers between her legs, smearing lubrication on her clit. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them off noisily. "You're dripping wet."

He started to get up with obvious intentions, but she pushed him back down. "No sense to any of this if you strain your leg." She glanced around. "If I were a condom…"

"If you were a condom, they'd be far more popular." He indicated a drawer.

She straddled him and impaled herself. She gripped his shoulders to support her weight, and each time she rocked up it felt like a massage on his tight, sore shoulders.

"Fucking…House. Ah!" She reached behind her to undo her bra, tossed it aside. Sweat dripped down her body, and damp ringlets clung to her red face. Suddenly House was very warm himself, and he sat up a bit to pull off both shirts.

He watched her moving above him—explicit, lovely. She tipped her head back and increased her pace. Started to take her breaths in desperate little gasps. He wanted to see her scream.

He passed his thumb over his tongue, then pushed in against her clit, rubbing circles in time with her motions. Over and over she bounced above him, ground against his thumb.

"Oh, House. I'm gonna…so good. Yes, yes, YES!" She writhed a few more times, then collapsed against his chest, slumping to his left. "I need a minute."

"You're a screamer."

"Mmhmm. I'm starting to worry I'll never see you come."

"I'm close."

"Thank heaven." She moved between his legs, and took him in her mouth again, earning a loud groan. "This is uncomfortable; sit at the edge." She knelt between his legs, knees padded on dirty laundry.

She touched him: her hand and mouth moving fast on the slippery latex. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him, and he was able to give in, shaking, moaning—both hands gripping her against him.

She stood up, took his hand in hers. "Let's get you a shower."

o O o O o O o

In the bathroom, he sat on the closed toilet while she adjusted the taps. Watching her. It shouldn't have been like this. "It shouldn't have been like this."

She pulled him to stand, pulled of his pajama pants. "This was inevitable."

She helped him into the shower and positioned him under the spray, then gently washed him from hair to toes. Once she had finished, he leaned against the wall and watched her clean herself.

She looked at him. "This is so surreal. I always imagine you're in the shower watching me, and now you are."

o O o O o O o

Bundled in his terry cloth robe, he sat on a kitchen stool. He watched her make a sandwich in his The Who tshirt.

"Are you sure you can't eat?"

He mocked her, matched her cadence. "Na na na na na nah?"

She rolled her eyes. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

o O o O o O o

Between treatments, House slept fitfully. When he woke, he would: Pull her to him roughly. Kiss her brutally. Force his hand between her thighs. When the appointed hour came, she was riding him hard, his fingernails drawing blood from her thighs. Cameron rifled through the crumpled sheets to find her mobile. "Cuddy, the deal's expired. pause Call in the prescription to the CVS at the corner." At these words he came, biting his fist to muffle his screaming.


Author's Note: Thank you in advance, I live for comments.