Fandom: House MD
Pairing: Stacy/Cameron (and of course canon Stacy/House and Cameron/House)
Challenge/Prompt: 100moods, 022. Crushed
Rating: PG-15 (y’know, sex, but not as graphic as it could be)
Copyright Tori Amos, “Indian Summer”
Summary: Well, I decided I wanted to write a Stacy/Cameron and this is was what poured out. Set in season two up to “Need to Know”.
Author’s Notes: Written very late at night over about four days, so OOC-ness, typing errors and not-very-good-ness are a given. I quite like it though ;) Ooh, and thank you to drag_queen90 and her crush on Stacy; that really helped me out.
0.01. (Call me back)
House wants Stacy to leave, Wilson wants Stacy to leave, Cameron wants Stacy to leave. So it’s almost funny that she just won’t go. She sits in her office with her files and destroys people’s emotions from the inside out. Like she’s not even aware of it. Like she doesn’t even care.
Cameron isn’t sure how she feels about Stacy, except that Stacy makes her feel like a little girl, and every time she walks into the room to yell at House, it reminds Cameron all too clearly of all the reasons why House never did and never will belong to her. Compared to Stacy in her business suits with her confidence and her husband and her history, Cameron is a child left in the dust, forgotten, like an old toy, waiting for House to pick her up and torment her again.
0.02. (Someone tell me)
What was he like before the leg? A simple question that had been preying on Cameron’s mind for a long, long time. And Stacy gave her a simple answer. Pretty much the same. Cameron thinks over that, wonders whether she could love House if she didn’t have the edge that comes from it’s not all his fault; he’s in pain. Stacy, for her part, doesn’t have that pity. Cameron can see that clearly. Sometimes she tries to figure out whether Stacy ever apologised; whether she’s sorry at all for leaving Greg crippled and struggling in her wake.
0.03. (There’s another way)
“Dr Cameron,” Stacy smiles as they run into each other at the coffee machine at two a.m, and Cameron’s lips bite together before she can say don’t you have a husband to get home to?
“Please,” she replies, “Call me Allison.”
Stacy smiles as she stirs sugar into her black coffee, dark hair falling over her face.
“Spit it out, Allison,” she says, not entirely unkindly, as the silence between them stretches. Cameron looks down at her white coffee and can’t find the words.
“Good night Stacy,” she murmurs, turning to go, heels clicking on the floor of the almost empty corridor.
0.04. (Is it loud)
House is listening to the Rolling Stones’ You Can’t Always Get What You Want for about the fifth time today and Wilson doesn’t appear to have noticed. The two of them are sitting in his office playing Monopoly, a board game stolen from the paediatrics department. The fact they’ve bothered to lay out all the paper money and the plastic hotels tells Cameron that neither of them have any intention of doing work this afternoon, and that she’s going to have come up with a load of new excuses. There’s nothing new there but that doesn’t stop it being frustrating. She walks in with a pile of files, just in time to hear Wilson say:
“Well, maybe if you just left her alone-”
“It’s her who’s stalking me,” House shrugs, rolling a dice, getting a two, and moving four spaces. Wilson sighs but doesn’t call him up on it. “Kinda reminds me of someone else.”
He gives Cameron a pointed look. She simply sighs, drops the files onto the desk, dislodging half the paper money lying in neat rows, and walks out again.
0.05. (Is it autumn)
Cameron sits at the table and watches House and Stacy argue. The glass walls muffle the exact words, but she gets the gist. It’s funny that Stacy is pretty much the only one who can really reduce House to this kind of anger; the kind of anger where he actually shouts and his face screws up and he stops being about the sarcasm and just becomes furious. She winces, imagining what the final months of their relationship were like.
Chase pushes a mug of coffee in her direction, smiling at her around the pen perpetually between his teeth, and she manages to curve her lips vaguely in reply, wrapping her fingers around the red mug, looking down at her hands and letting their stifled expletives wash over her.
0.06. (That you’re talking about)
Apparently, Stacy spends most of her time on the hospital roof, watching the world go on beneath her, fingers clenching on the brick wall around the edge.
“Are you all right?” Cameron asks her, when she’s gone up there to hide from House and the bad mood that Stacy put him in earlier. Stacy turns around, biting her lips together, looking exhausted and miserable, and Cameron pities her for a moment before remembering that Stacy makes all their lives miserable, because her very existence winds up House.
“I’m fine,” Stacy says with a tight smirk Cameron can tell that she doesn’t really mean. She wants to open her mouth and try to offer some kind of comfort, but she is also smart enough to realise that it really would mean nothing, coming from her, so she shrugs and leaves Stacy to her thoughts and the sunset.
0.07. (Is it what)
It’s easy to hate Stacy and even easier to blame her for the way House is; the pain, the drug addiction, the cane he’s so happy to hit people with, the way he’s in more of a bad mood than ever before at the moment, shouting and snapping and snarling at everyone. Even Wilson looks more exhausted than usual at the moment, like he’s sick of House going on and on about Stacy.
It’s so easy to hate Ms Competent Lawyer, until Cameron realises that by hating her she’s essentially acting just like House.
0.08. (Is it lost)
“Dr Cameron, can I see you in my office for a moment?” Stacy is the perfect picture of calm, and Cameron obediently follows her into the room.
“How can I help you?” she asks, and almost winces at the ice in her tone.
“I want you to stop *looking* at me the way you do,” Stacy says simply, “I want you to stop glaring at me all the time like what I did to Greg was akin to child abuse or something.”
Cameron wants to say I don’t hate you for what you *did* to him; I hate you for what you do to him now, but it isn’t exactly the truth.
“I-” she begins hesitantly. Stacy shakes her head.
“Maybe you should consider the fact that if I hadn’t signed those papers, he wouldn’t be around for you to have your disturbing little crush.”
It’s the first time Cameron’s ever seen Stacy have that ugly, cruel look on her face, and it makes her feel completely weak and helpless. So she simply walks out, slamming the door too hard behind her.
0.09. (On what I’m talking about here)
Stacy is avoiding the diagnostics office. House is preening about how he’s managed to push her too far this time (and seems far, far too happy about that, but then he never did feel emotions or victories like a normal person), but Cameron knows that it’s her that’s caused this. And the smugness, the pride is like poison spreading through her body.
She’s got one over on Stacy Warner. And that, God, that has to count for something.
0.10. (Is it just)
The lab is peaceful and quiet when Chase and Foreman aren’t around being their generally irritating selves. Cameron silently scolds herself for thinking of them like that; normally she can tolerate and even like them, but today she’s got a migraine and running tests for hours seems like a productive and above all quiet way to spend her time.
Eventually, when everything’s negative and Cameron feels considerably less productive, she makes her way up to the roof for some fresh air. Stacy is up there yet again, looking impossibly elegant and smoking, blowing the smoke into the wind. Cameron watches it blow away, feeling young and small when compared to this woman, her immaculate make-up and cream pantsuit and graceful way of holding a cigarette.
“Do you want one?” Stacy asks, without turning her head. Cameron feels herself blush. She doesn’t smoke and she should say that and leave now, but she can’t.
“Please,” she replies, walking up to join her at the edge, and Stacy sticks another one between her lips to light it before handing it over. Cameron looks at the rose pink, barely-there stain of lipstick on the filter, and it’s sheer force of will that keeps her from coughing as she inhales.
0.11. (That you can’t find)
Lisa Cuddy is better at dealing with Stacy and Cameron sometimes watches her and tries to pick up tips, but unfortunately Stacy makes her feel like a teenager, and having a straight conversation would be impossible. Cameron has never had an excess of confidence, or even enough some days, but she feels her confidence leech away every time Stacy comes within twenty feet. Stacy is so secure in herself (or at least appears to be) and she’s so smart and can cope easily with House and she’s everything that Cameron really, really isn’t. It’s awe and it’s envy and it makes Allison more and more uncomfortable as time goes on.
And even though she adamantly doesn’t smoke, that little fact doesn’t stop her from bumming Stacy’s smokes and spending a lot of the time with her on the roof in silence, blowing grey smoke into the wind. She tries not to think that every cigarette is five minutes from her life; less because of the lost time, and more because something in the back of her head is certain that it’s worth it.
0.12. (A way out)
Halfway through General Hospital House glances through the glass wall between his office and the conference room.
“Where’s Cameron?” he asks, when he sees only Chase and Foreman bickering over the crossword and burning their mouths on instant coffee.
“Smoking break,” Wilson replies, studying the breasts of one of the female doctors on the TV and eating his way through a bag of M&Ms. House leans over to steal a handful of M&Ms, and then painstakingly puts all the brown ones back before saying:
“But Cameron doesn’t smoke.”
“The hospital roof begs to differ,” Wilson shrugs, grabbing the remote to turn the TV up slightly.
House frowns as he eats three blue candies, studying the screen hard while his brain tries to come up with a myriad of reasons why Cameron is acting the way she is. Finally, his mouth curves into a grim little smile.
0.13. (Find another way)
“What do you want from me?” Stacy asks, no inflection or anything in her voice, tapping ash off the roof and leaning over the edge to watch it fall.
“I don’t want anything,” Cameron replies. Today she isn’t smoking because she feels faintly queasy- too much caffeine.
“Greg always says that everybody lies,” Stacy shrugs, “And I don’t think that you’re any different, no matter how many times you blink those eyes.”
Cameron bites her lip and blushes before she can stop herself. But she is not going to give Stacy an answer; partially because she doesn’t have one, and partially because it’s not for Stacy to suddenly demand replies.
“Don’t you have a husband waiting for you?” she asks acidly, and Stacy’s fingers clench like she wants to slap her before she walks away, leaving Cameron behind her.
0.14. (Teach me how to pray)
House went home hours ago and Chase is with the patient and Foreman is probably at home too, or else somewhere that is profoundly Not Here. Cameron is at House’s desk typing up a report or fifty, hair loose around her shoulders, glasses magnifying the screen and tiring her eyes out too. She keeps mis-typing words and every time she hits the ‘S’ key her fingers automatically dart for the ‘T’ directly afterwards, like she wants to type Stacy’s name over and over again.
It’s not an impossible idea.
Think of the devil, type the devil’s name, and she appears. The blinds shiver as the door opens, and Cameron looks up to see Stacy standing there, arms folded, leaning against the wall furthest away from her with an unreadable expression on her face. Cameron’s mind thinks Mark, her lips form House, but the look on Stacy’s face says you. Cameron blushes and Stacy raises an eyebrow. Yes or no?
“Yes,” Cameron gasps, the word hardly making any sound in the suddenly breathless room. Stacy smiles, and the lock clicks shut behind her.
0.15. (Girls take your hands)
Cameron closes the lid of her laptop, slides it into her bag, stands up, aware that she’s trembling all over.
“I don’t normally do things like this,” she says, carefully removing her glasses and abandoning them on the keyboard of House’s computer.
“Do I look like the kind of person who does?” Stacy enquires with a mischievous smile that doesn’t quite hide her nervousness. Cameron can’t answer that, can’t speak, as one of Stacy’s perfectly manicured hands comes to stroke through the front of her hair, following a loose curl from top to bottom. Cameron suddenly grabs her wrist.
“Are you *sure*?” she asks.
“Yes,” Stacy replies simply, those dark eyes boring into Cameron’s, until she can’t take it any more and they flutter closed. A moment later, blackness descends over Cameron’s closed lids, as Stacy leans in and finally- finally- kisses her.
0.16. (Like you pray)
House’s eyes are narrowed like he thinks he might actually figure it out. He won’t. Cameron knows that because House thinks she’s still pining over him or Chase or something and that she still thinks Stacy is a nuisance. He could never know and Cameron is going to continue thinking that, even under the inherent paranoia that runs through her body, that he can see every inch of her body and her soul, those blue eyes like scalpels stripping away her clothes and skin and reading her thoughts.
“Morning House,” she chirps, and he narrows his eyes at her, and he doesn’t say anything at all.
0.17. (All over the ground)
They don’t smile at each other in the corridors, don’t sit and have lunch together in the cafeteria, don’t ever talk unless it’s related to a legal case. Cameron is in complete awe of Stacy, to tell the truth. The older woman seems so in control, even with her bitterness painted across her skin, even with the way her lips pinch and her fingers clench when House is around. Cameron feels crazy most of the time and so, so confused. Showers with her brain assaulting her with memories of the way that Stacy tastes, the way Stacy’s fingers move inside her, until she’s curled up in the corner of the shower stall with sodden hair falling in her eyes and an aching throb of need between her legs that she refuses to touch.
Cameron needs and needs and needs to a degree that makes her almost boring to House and alarmingly attractive to Wilson (if only she knew… or maybe not), and she finds herself craving Stacy like mad. It’s like a sickness, creeping through her, wanting House, needing his ex-girlfriend. *Married* ex-girlfriend, and Cameron has always hated cheaters, and yet, and yet…
0.18. (Then back on your body)
Stacy wants the lights on and Cameron wants them off, and she wins. The door is resoundingly locked and they are both silently grateful that Stacy has an office that doesn’t have glass walls (perhaps a first for this hospital). Stacy is still partially dressed- blouse coming open where Cameron’s fingers eagerly dipped inside to stroke at her nipples while kissing her neck- and she’s still got her panties on as Cameron kneels between her legs. In the half-light Stacy is little more than a dark silhouette sprawled in her chair and Cameron likes that- it’s safer somehow.
Stacy tastes like nicotine and coffee and lipstick and mint, a combination that drives Cameron crazy, and it takes a lot of effort to tear her mouth away from the other woman’s to move downwards, kissing at her inner thighs and biting just enough to elicit a hiss from Stacy. Her lips curve into a smile as she parts Stacy’s thighs further and presses a kiss to the damp front of her panties before pulling them away entirely and leaning in to gently run her tongue over Stacy’s skin.
In the overheated silence of the office Stacy’s low groan sounds unnaturally loud and Cameron loves that little sound she can draw out, slides her tongue over Stacy’s slick folds, sweeping up to suckle at her clit before Cameron presses her tongue inside her. Stacy gasps and moans, her fingers tangling in Cameron’s hair, as her fingers replace her tongue and she returns to stroking over Stacy’s clit, the other woman’s hips moving restlessly and desperately.
It doesn’t take long for Stacy to come and Cameron likes that the darkness hides her satisfied grin before Stacy pulls her upwards to kiss her again.
0.19. (Girls take your hands)
They still smoke on the roof like they did before and they still have nothing to say to each other. It’s like nothing is going on beyond the two of them fucking in exam rooms and Stacy’s office. They’re certainly not in a relationship and they’re not even friends, and Cameron craves more but has the good sense to know that Stacy doesn’t. And if this is all she can get from a married woman in love with her ex then that’s what she’ll take.
After all, it’s a source of some pride to her that she’s got further than House has, and *he’s* supposedly the one lusting after Stacy day after day.
It is much, much easier to let silence reign between them, though; anything other than silence and that’s when things get very, very messy.
0.20. (Like you pray)
Stacy is beautiful and it scares Cameron. There’s that lovely soft hair, thick enough for Cameron to get her fingers tangled in it when they’re kissing, a big mouth that curves into the most beautiful smiles, and wide brown eyes. She’s tall, too- tall enough to tower over Cameron a little when they’re standing up, tall enough for Cameron to imagine leaning her head on her shoulder. Which is something she also has the sense not to do.
Cameron finishes another cigarette and watches the ash fall all the way to the ground several storeys below as she taps it off the edge of the roof and then stamps it under her foot. Stacy gives her a smile and then pulls her sideways so that she’s out of sight of the door to the roof.
“What are you-” Cameron begins, but Stacy tells her to shush and then kisses her, hard, deeply, hands making quick work of the buttons and zipper of Cameron’s pants, cold fingers pushing under the warm fabric of her panties. They kiss frantically while Stacy caresses Cameron, rubbing her clit and pressing inside her, while Cameron rocks her hips desperately against her hand, gasping into Stacy’s lips, terrified that any minute someone will come up here and see them, terrified that someone won’t.
0.21. (Through the blades of grass)
Cameron has been imagining her day off for what feels like forever, imagining lying around at home doing nothing. Imagining a day free of the hospital corridors where she suffocates slowly under House’s temper and Stacy’s eyes and the awkward office politics in diagnostics (there are only four of them for God’s sake; it should not be this complicated). She knows all too well that Stacy, whatever else she may or may not feel for Cameron (Allison really doesn’t flatter herself), needs to be in control of something right now, with her marriage crumpling up like paper and combusting a little at the same time, with feelings for House that she can’t handle whatever she may say, and Cameron is nothing if not easy to manipulate.
And she doesn’t really care either.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Stacy asks her that night in her office. Cameron reads the invitation in her eyes and whatever else she feels she doesn’t want to do this to Stacy’s husband. He’s so busy looking at House that he hasn’t even noticed Cameron slipping insidiously under Stacy’s skin.
“I’m busy,” she says quickly. “You should spend some time with Mark.”
Stacy looks utterly stunned and slightly hurt, and Cameron wonders whether this constitutes shooting yourself in the foot.
0.22. (Gently, gently- gently)
Having Stacy hating you is slightly different to having her lusting after you, and Cameron has very mixed feelings about the whole thing. She doesn’t go up onto the roof and she doesn’t go anywhere near Stacy’s office and when Stacy comes in to yell at House she doesn’t look up, even when she can feel Stacy looking at her. It takes two days for Stacy to crack.
“What are you trying to achieve, Allison?” she asks, and Cameron honestly doesn’t know, as she kisses Stacy’s cheek like an apology and a break-up all in one, wondering whether it can end here and if she could go on breathing if it did. Instead, Stacy turns her head so their lips meet.
0.23. (There is another way)
House has been suspicious for weeks but he doesn’t think this is the time to bring it up, with Stacy straddling his hips and kissing him deeply. Somehow, this isn’t the moment for are you sleeping with Cameron? *Why* are you sleeping with Cameron? Really, he has no proof beyond some blushing and Cameron’s sudden use of nicotine (for all he knows, she’s been smoking all along- he is certainly stressful enough- and he’s just never noticed it until now) and a mental image that proved to be very, very entertaining. Instead, he concentrates on winning because getting some and then forcing Stacy to leave has been his agenda all along.
0.24. (Yes, another way)
“Good luck with Mark,” Cameron says softly, leaning against Stacy’s doorframe and watching the other woman pack her belongings into boxes. Stacy looks up at her.
“What the hell were you doing with me?” she asks, frowning. She sounds breathless and surprised as opposed to angry. “You want me to succeed in rescuing my marriage, you don’t want to spend time with me, you’re happy with sex and then you return to life like nothing has changed… I really don’t understand.”
Cameron smiles around a heart that is attempting to break with betrayal and misery.
“Neither do I,” she replies.
0.25. (Another way to pray)
Cameron sits on the roof and sobs her heart out about three days after Stacy’s left. She cries and cries until her face is blotchy and she’s hiccupping slightly and she can’t breathe.
“Loving Stacy does tend to do that to you,” House says thoughtfully. Her head snaps up, because she hadn’t heard him walking to stand in front of her, in spite of the cane.
“I don’t-” she begins awkwardly, and then laughs. “It’s your fault she’s gone.”
Because it’s the truth. It’s House’s fault Stacy came here in the first place, House’s fault that she stayed (whatever else anyone might say), House’s fault she left. It was always about House and Cameron understands that and at some point she might even come to terms with it.
“Yeah,” House shrugs, “It is. What, you want an apology? You knew damn well she was screwing around with you.”
“I did,” Cameron agrees, accepting his offer of a hand to pull her to her feet, wiping the damp patches off her cheeks. After all, she always knew it was temporary, and that Stacy cared very little for her.
“Does this mean you’re going to go back to mooning over me again?” House asks.
Cameron looks at him and wonders whether the whole thing would have happened if he had never existed. Probably not. Perhaps she’ll even work out how to forgive him sometime.
“Good night, Doctor House,” she replies, offering him an almost genuine smile before she walks away without looking back.
Feedback is love.