whattingawhat: (Srsly bitch?)
Buffy Summers ([personal profile] whattingawhat) wrote2009-06-29 10:58 am

Well it's been a long slow collision, [I'm a pitbull, you're a dog,]

[Acting Out]

Greg House is [livejournal.com profile] huge_ego_sry and is used with permission. Based on rp in [livejournal.com profile] slayer_rehab

“I’m guessing an ex boyfriend right before some major event. Graduation, prom, college. Maybe even right after something like your mommy’s death.” He tossed the ball up in the air as he talked. As if it were any other conversation. “Did he tell you it was him, not you and really, you’d be better off in the long run? And you wanted to believe him but something inside of you just couldn’t because you know it’s always you-“

The glare she gave him would make vampires run but he never missed a beat in tossing the ball. She watched as it landed in the palm of his hand with a soft thump. She had a vivid image of throwing the ball at his head hard enough to cave in his skull. To quell the urge, she curled her hands into fists. When she finally spoke, her voice was cold, hard and all General. “Fuck you.” She was gone before he could respond.



She spent a week snapping at all the girls, sparring with Faith every chance she got and generally being a bitch. She had just spent two hours wailing on the punching bag in the training room and was up in her room, unwinding the tape from her knuckles when Jill burst through the door breathlessly.

“Jack’s on her way up in the elevator with a really hot, grumpy old guy with a cane. He’s here to see you.”

Buffy sighed and tossed the tape she’d pull off her knuckles into a trash can. Jill’s description told her exactly who their guest was. “I guess I’m not here is irrelevant now. “

“Also, I have to go because if Jack knows I’m up here warning you, she’ll go into one of those tweaking, asthmatic fits she has.”

Buffy didn’t bother pointing out that in reality, slayer healing had probably taken care of any real asthma Jack might have because she knew exactly what sort of fit Jill was talking about. Besides, Jill had fled the room almost as soon as she said the words making the whole thing moot. She heard the elevator squeal to a stop as she was unwinding the tape on her other hand. She was still wearing the wife beater and yoga pants she’d been working out in when House walked through the door like he owned the place.

“I’m really going to have to talk to the girls about instituting a no assholes in the house rule,” she grumbled at him, rolling her eyes and turning so that her back was half to him.

“You’d have to vacate the premises then,” House responded as he leaned heavily on his cane, watching her blatantly.

“If you just came here to insult me, you can leave now. If you came to check on my arm, you can see its fine,” Buffy said. “Either way, I need a shower.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

She should have seen that one coming. “Greg…what are you here for?”

“Wilson and Cuddy ganged up on me and made me.” It was close to the truth but it said it with that smirking insolence that made her certain he was just being irrelevant. “You’d be surprised how difficult it is to get my hands on a freakishly fast healing woman.”

“Really? I live with about twenty five of them,” she responded dryly. “Are we done now?” She didn’t realize the cold, hard exterior she had pulled over herself just intrigued him.

“That would make the last three weeks a bit pointless don’t you think? All that mental fucking we danced around while you were in New Jersey.”

Well at least that earned him a ‘have you caught a ride on the crazy train’ look from Buffy that broke the cold, hard, bitch thing she had going on. “Are you off your meds today? Or did you take too many?”

“This would definitely qualify as too many but strangely not near enough,” House answered. His words were muffled as he dragged a hand over his face. “I hate that you’re angry at me and apparently I’m ‘distracted’ at work because of it. Cuddy’s complaint, not mine. I think she’s just trying to get me out of the office so I’ll quit insulting her ass and staring at her rack.”

Buffy’s jaw might have been a bit agape at House’s words. Just a bit. “Was that…an apology?”

“Oh shut up,” House snapped. He took a step close to her, reaching out and locking his fingers tightly on her bicep, his grip so tight, if she’d been anyone else, she’d bruise. It was the pressure that made her look up at him, eyes wide with surprise. In the three weeks she’d spent in New Jersey, he’d never touched her except in a professional capacity; even when she’d punched him.

He kissed her first but then she was certain as he told it, she kissed him. Both stories had the same ending. She pushed him up against the wall, her body pressed against his from mouth to thighs. His cane clattered to the floor when he abandoned it to peel her tank top off. She ripped the buttons from his shirt when she fisted it in both hands and dragged him to the bed.

“Tell me if it hurts,” she whispered against his neck, her teeth nipping at his skin.

“There are benefits to sleeping with a masochist,” he responded, his hands at the small of her back and the curve of her ass.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Buffy snapped, a teasing tone to her voice as she slid her hands down his chest. He was warm and his heart beat faster as his chest heaved with panting breaths. She brushed her lips against his in another kiss, his fingertips pressed into her hipbones as he pushed her pants over her hips. She shimmed out of them, kicking them to the floor then started to unbutton his pants. Her hand placement was particularly effective in combination with her next words.

“If you leave before the morning I swear I’ll tie you to the bed.”

“Is that supposed to deter me from making my escape? Or was it an invitation?” He asked as he alternated nips at her skin with wet kisses. His words were murmured against her breasts. “Because I was thinking of running down the hall. Maybe skipping.”

“I really do like you much better when you’re not talking.” She couldn’t help smile because this was exactly the mental fucking he’d been referring to, albeit less naked.

“Then shut me up.”

It was the expected response and she gave the expected reaction, her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled him up to her mouth. Her teeth nipped at his bottom lip hard enough to draw a little blood. With hardly any effort she flipped House to his back, her hands on his chest as she straddled his hips. “You know along with the faster healing, I get a lot more stamina. See if you can keep up.”
“Sweet Jesus, if you didn’t talk so damn much, you just might be the perfect woman.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and leaned in to brush her lips against his neck, biting him there and then moving down to the hollow of his throat. “Shut me up,” she ordered.

For possibly the first time in House’s life, he took an order.


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