Hi!

This story has seemed abandoned for a long time, I got discouraged by season four… and moved on to another fandom, if this pairing does it for you, you might want to check out the Hermione Granger/Severus Snape pairing from Harry Potter fandom - just sayin´! Oh, and if you need recs, I´m here =)

Anyhow, this chapter, the final one, has been sitting in my laptop for years now, and I think it´s time for it to spread its wings! I hope there´s still someone out there who reads Hcams =) Reviews still extremely appreciated!

The Curve of the Earth

That night, when she comes home, she drops her bag and her jacket and throws herself on the couch without turning on any lights. She needs to think. The last turn of events has been unexpected. Earlier that day when they left the cafeteria they each went back to their work and she didn´t get to talk to himprivately anymore. When she was finally finished it was dark outside and he´d gone home. And now - what now, really? Are they together? Has he suddenly changed his mind and now likes her? Can she call him or is it up to him as usual? And if so, will she accept that? Or will she finally stand up for herself and claim some equality? Probably not.

Her phone rings. Of course she hopes it´s him, but no, it´s Foreman.

"Hey."

"Hey. What´s up?"

"Nothing much. I heard you had a lunch date."

"Yeah…"

He sighs. "I knew it. He´s doing this to you, isn´t he?"

"What?"

"You´ve stopped eating, ´cause of House, right? He´s messing with you!"

"No! No, why would I... And I´m eating!"

He doesn´t listen. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"I´m going to hang up now." Her voice is shaking and it´s an empty threat, because she holds on to the phone like her life depends on it.

"Jeez, Cameron…That´s bad. Really bad. He´s so wrong for you, he´s gonna destroy you!"

"I´m a big girl. I can make my own decisions."

"No. You´re a big girl so you have the right to make you own decisions, but apparently you´re lousy at it!"

"Back off, Foreman! I´m not yours to protect!"

That gets to him. He doesn´t even answer. He just exhales and she can tell he´s annoyed. He hangs up without uttering another word.

She quickly calls House.

"What?"

"Foreman called me. He wants to know if I´m sleeping with you."

"Well, are you? And if so, could you make it a bit more rough, ´cause I´m not feeling a thing."

"Stop joking! He knows!"

"Well, whatever. We won´t let it affect work and Cuddy won´t mind. She´s got this idea about you being able to make me happy, apparently something to pursue."

"He thinks you´re bad for me. What if he… does something?"

He scoffs. "You don´t expect him to round up some brothers and have me offed, do you? I´m sure you´d be flattered by the drama, but sorry, ain´t gonna happen. He might threaten me, but that´s as far as he´ll go."

She feels her shoulders drop an inch. "Yeah, you´re probably right. I didn´t know…I thought we´d been careful, talking to him made me kind of lose perspective, I guess."

Silence. She hates that. On the phone all you´ve got are words, if they fail the communication problem is pretty obvious. Then he speaks.

"Or, I might be wrong and you might be right."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe he´s coming to kill me as we speak. And, if so, shouldn´t you be on your way over here to protect me?"

She smiles. "I´m there!"

She arrives at his place and knocks on the door, she hears him shouting something and assumes it´s her cue to enter, so she does. He´s on the couch, watching TV.

"Still alive?" She feels awkward, like she doesn´t really know what to do with herself.

"So far." He doesn´t lift his gaze from the screen but he smiles and she decides to take that as an invitation.

She walks over to him, bends down and places a soft kiss on his temple. "I´m glad."

She lets out a short laugh and he raises his eyebrows questioningly.

"No, it´s nothing." She walks around the couch and sits down next to him. "I was just thinking, it doesn´t matter how often I see you. I still have time to miss that, the way you smell."

He scoffs, but not with his usual sarcasm. "Great, much more easy for me. Maybe I can quit the whole showering thing entirely."

"Nah, that might be exaggerating it a bit, but I wouldn´t mind it if you worked up some sweat…"

He smiles again, it softens his features, but not as much as it softens her.

"Sure, I aim to please, might need some assistance, though." He flexes his back, which makes him slide down on the couch into a reclining position, legs apart. It's a quick movement but it speaks directly to those more primitive parts of her brain and instantly it´s there; the almost painful desire her body reserves only for him.

"Unbuckle." Her voice sounds strange, it´s thick, filled with lust and he immediately complies.

She positions herself between his legs and begins placing sloppy kisses on his groin.

"Wait, wait, wait." He pushes her away, with some apparent difficulty, just long enough to push down his jeans.

"Eager, are we?" She really doesn´t want this to be a power game, but the confidence that swirls through her veins is too intoxicating to ignore, hence the cocky comment. She´s shot down immediately though.

"Shut up and suck." He´s got one thing in mind now, her feelings aren´t exactly in focus. She knows she should be pissed but him wanting her is just so arousing, and so, she obeys, taking him in her mouth, deep and slow.

The contact with her warm, wet mouth makes him moan and he grabs her hair to up the pace, satisfying himself with her.

She´s always been secretly proud of her ability to give blow jobs without gagging, and at the same time she knows she´s entitled to some control but she decides not to claim it. Not now.

She sets an erratic pace, allowing him to thrust as deep as he needs, meeting him every time. She can´t watch him, but his breaths come in almost sobbing pants and she can tell he´s lost now.

When he comes it hits him hard. He bends forward, clutching her hair so hard she´s surprised he doesn´t rip it off. To her it´s all chaotic, she knows she should protest but she wants to give him this, show him she´s there for him no matter what. Words seem too often to drive them apart, but this way she might get through to him on some more subconscious level. She swallows (admitting to herself she hates that part) and then rests her head against his healthy thigh. They stay like that for what seems like an eternity. Finally, when she thinks he´s asleep, he speaks.

"Your hair…" he murmurs, gently stroking her messy curls. "You know, you shouldn´t let me do that…"

"No words," she simply says, carefully climbing up and stretching herself out on top of him, resting her head against his chest. She feels him relax and to the safe sound of his heartbeats, she falls asleep.

She´s awakened some time later, he´s uncomfortably shifting position and she quickly gets up.

"Your leg?" she asks, groggy from sleep, trying to regain balance in the dark room.

"Always," he grunts, roughly massaging it.

She senses he doesn´t want an audience so she leaves for the bathroom. When she´s ready she can hear him move about in his bedroom. She sighs - what now? She almost decides to quietly leave but then again, this is no time for hesitation and she doesn´t want to disappoint herself.

She undresses and tip-toes barefoot towards the bedroom, but on the threshold she loses courage. He hasn´t turned on any light so she can´t see him but she hears him breathe and she can tell he´s noticed her presence.

"I´m going to stay." Her voice is nothing more than the shadow of a whisper.

She senses him mentally nodding his approval before he gruffs his "okay" into the darkness.

She enters and slips between the sheets with as little movement as possible. It´s an odd situation, almost impersonal and yet, at the same time, frighteningly intimate. She surprises herself by falling asleep.

When she wakes up she´s alone. She can tell by the sparse light it´s still early so she stays in bed, listening. No sound from the bathroom, she guesses it´s up for grabs then. She takes a quick shower and returns to the bedroom to dress. Clothes from yesterday don´t seem all that appealing so knowing full well she might be over-stepping one of those invisible lines again, she searches the drawers and retrieves a simple t-shirt. It´s old, soft and smells like him.

She finds him in the kitchen, drinking coffee.

"Hey."

"There´s coffee if you want."

"A bit early for you to be up and about, isn´t it?… Am I to blame?"

He avoids eye contact. "I couldn´t sleep."

She helps herself to a cup of coffee and joins him at the table.

He notices her outfit. "Wearing my t-shirt, a bit girlie, huh?" He seems casual enough but there´s steel hidden in his voice and something more… Hurt? Fear? She can´t tell.

"I needed something clean and I hoped you wouldn´t mind. Don´t read too much into everything I do. It´ll wear us both out, and really, sometimes there are no ulterior motives."

He nods but gives her a curious look. She smiles and shakes her head, disbelievingly, that vivid mind of his never stops working.

"And yes, I also like that the damn thing smells like you, but you already knew that so just leave it."

"And that qualifies as an ulterior motive!" He looks so smug she has to laugh.

"Yes, absolutely, you win!"

"Don´t I always."

She sips her coffee and feels herself relax now that the tension between them is temporarily gone. But then again, it´s always like this; hurtful banter and mind-blowing sex glued together with silenttruces. She wonders how much more of it she can take.

"What?" He interrupts her thoughts, those blue twin fires probing her scowlingfeatures.

"Nothing." She tries in vain to duck his question, knowing full well he won´t yield.

"Right. Tell me it´s none of my business, but don´t lie, that´s fuckin´ tiresome."

"One: telling you it´s none of your business would only make you try harder, if nothing else, I´ve learned that. And two: I wasn´t thinking happy thoughts so I´d rather just leave it."

He doesn´t even blink. "Avoiding the question, Allison!"

"Just contemplating how dysfunctional we are, Greg." Her smile is ironically sweet.

He wrinkles his nose, faking resignation. "That´s all we could ever hope for. And I think you should give us some cred; at least we´re on a first name basis."

She looks at him, incredulously. "I don´t believe you! How come I´m the one with the sulky mood, brooding over us, while you´re suddenly playing house? Is this one of your little throw-Cameron-off-balance-games? Because I swear I don´t know how much more of it I can take."

She´s not really that pissed off but sometimes talking to him, interacting with him, is like riding a giant emotional roller coaster, and she thinks she deserves a break.

He leans over, leveling his face with hers. "Look, Allison, this is me trying. And since it´s still practically the middle of the night, I think you should reward me by moving that sassy little ass of yours into my bed. And then," he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, "when I´ve had my way with you, we should totally go to work and play a round of throw-Chase-and-Foreman-off-balance."

She yields. Well, someone should and the task seems to be hers. She leans closer. "I don´t trust you." Kiss. "But I trust myself." Kiss. "And..," she smiles into his mouth, "…myself kinda loves you." Kiss.

He smiles back. "Maybe I trust you too." Kiss. "Your judgment is impeccable." Kiss. "You should like be the headmistress of the universe." Kiss.

She giggles and moves over to him, gives in to the light-headed happiness of the moment and relishes in the fact that his embrace seems natural, natural for him to give and for her to receive. I fit in his arms. The thought might be sappy, but it´s still intoxicating.

"Oh, God." Kiss. "I could do this all day." Kiss. "You´re great…mmm…perfect." Kiss. "I´m not going to make it to your bed." Kiss.

"Could´nt give a rat´s ass." Kiss. "Strip and give me my sugar." Kiss.

She pushes his hands down, onto her naked thighs, and when he immediately moves upwards he realizes she wears nothing but his t-shirt. She impatiently lifts its hem to give him better access.

"You strip." Kiss. "I´m extremely ready…" Kiss.

He groans. "You do the work." Kiss. "I´m otherwise occupied." He pinches a painfully hard nipple and it sends a jolt of pure pain-pleasure straight to her core.

Her head lolls to one side, allowing his mouth to travel down her neck. She pushes his pants down, with some difficulty, because she can´t stop herself from grinding her hips wantonly against his.

"You know..," without letting go of him she slides onto the table, "This table might come in very handy…"

She looks at him through hooded eyes, using one hand for leverage and stroking herself with the other, spreading her moist to ease his entering.

He loves it. Her lust, her honesty, her lascivious beauty. Hell, in this moment he might even love her.

He thrusts into her with determination. Slow, heavy thrusts, just the way she likes it. Shelies down on the table, arching her back, her eyes closed.

He grabs her hips and pulls her to him, harder and harder. His rhythm is heavy and on the beat, and she meets his every stroke, pulling her knees higher and giving him more and more access to her body. She´s moaning out loud now, clasping the edge of the table with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other.

She loves him like this. Towering over her, demanding her, taking her, wanting her and losing himself in her. She loves submitting to him and she loves what it does to him.

"So close..," she pants, "so close, oh please, please, please…" It´s a plea, she doesn´t now for what, but it has the desired effect.

He ups the pace, wrapped up now, in his own pleasure, and she marvels at the reactions his moves, his touch draw out of her, and melts when that controlled, razor-sharp intellect can only express itself in a guttural groan.

And at that, watching and feeling him falling over the edge, she loses herself in those sweet, sweet cramps that sends a relaxing heat pouring through her body, and suddenly she´s laughing in a reaction to the intensity of it all. Or maybe she´s crying, there´s no telling.

He slumps forward, resting his head on her stomach, and she threads her fingers through his hair, feeling her own wild heartbeats slow down together with his.

She sighs, content now, and he lifts his head, rests his chin on her and gently draws the outline of one of her breasts with his index finger.

One corner of his mouth slants in a quick smile.

"What?" She likes his soft touch and doesn´t want to ruin the moment, but curiosity gets the better of her.

His smile is almost shy when he simply replies: "The curve of the earth..," and continues to stroke her breast.

She hugs him with her legs and for the first time she thinks that this might actually really work.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^The End^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^