title: This is an invitation
Not mine

Their argument over whose diagnosis was correct ceased abruptly when the elevator to came to a grinding halt somewhere between levels one and two, the lights flickering off simultaneously.

With a muttered, "You have got to be kidding me," Cameron felt her way over to the array of buttons, trying desperately to tell which was the emergency one.

"They all feel the same!" she growled in frustration.

Somewhere behind her, she heard House mumble, "Yeah. Not very user-friendly for blind people, if you ask me."

She turned around and took a step forward only to find herself pressed against House. She could barely see her hand in front of her when she was fumbling with the elevator buttons, so she certainly couldn't see his face at all to tell his reaction.

"Well, Dr Cameron," he whispered, and she could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "Taking advantage of the situation, are we?"

She was almost thankful for the pitch-black state of the elevator in hiding her blush, before she remembered that it was as a result of this darkness that she even had reason to blush in the first place.

She made to take a step backwards when she felt his strong forearm snake its way around her waist and press her even closer to him. Her heart thudded in her chest and she knew he could feel it against his own chest.

Closing her eyes and willing her heartbeat to slow, she all but stopped breathing when she felt his breath coming in soft puffs against her lips.

And then he covered her lips with his.

Hot, stubble, scratching, soft, pliant, warm, rough, oh.

The contradiction of the roughness of his stubble and the softness of his tongue and lips were doing her in.

She regained her senses and crushed her mouth against his, wanting to make the most of every second, of every tiny shock of pleasure that went through her at the feel of him.

A few seconds later, her back was pressed roughly against the side wall of the elevator, and her hands were clawing at House's shirt as he ground his hips against hers. His teeth on her neck, her earlobe, oh.

And that was when the lights came back on.

Growling at the timing, House continued exploring her soft skin, now with the bonus of being able to see where he was going. Cameron's eyelids fluttered open and her hands slid from his hair and down to his shoulders.

"House, the doors could open any minute," she murmured, trying to get her breathing under control.

He groaned against her neck but obeyed, releasing her and limping slowly over to the other side of the elevator, keeping his gaze downcast and noticeably away from hers.

She almost wanted to cry in frustration when the doors slid open and he limped out without a backwards glance at her, looking completely unaffected by what had just happened.

The temptation to curl up in some corner somewhere out of embarrassment was strong but despite this she stuck her hand out to stop the elevator doors from closing and marched out.

She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Striding into the lab, she found Foreman, Chase and House in various corners of the room, waiting for the latest biopsy results on their patient. She moved into place between Foreman and Chase as House shot down Chase's latest theory.

Cameron let her gaze slide over to House, but flicked it back to the linoleum floor whenever she thought he would catch her watching him.

This was getting ridiculous. She was just going to have to accept that this was just another of his games, and leave it at that.

She would never understand why he liked to screw with her mind like this.

That evening she found a yellow post-it note with a time, the words 'my place', and a letter H underneath, stuck firmly to the door handle of her car.

She absentmindedly flipped it over and smirked when she saw the words scrawled on the back. PS. You won't make it past the door if you don't bring food.