Cameron walked into the bathroom, sucking on her thumb. She had half a mind to go back to the store that sold the lab coats and complain about the needle that was still stuck in her sleeve, but quickly changed her mind when she took a look at her finger. The prick was a slight inconvenience, a strange one, but not nearly inconvenient enough to throw a fit over. She pulled out the needle from her sleeve and left it on the sink, proceeding to wash her hands with cold water, idly wondering if there had been more needles left in other coats.
When Cameron turned to retrieve a paper towel, she practically jumped out of her skin when she was met with the palest doctor she had ever seen.
"Jesus!" Cameron raised a hand to her heart, breathing frantically as she took a step back.
"Not quite," the stranger answered simply, smiling in amusement. Confidence rolled off of the other woman as she stood there with her hands in her pockets, her white lab coat a stark contrast to the enticing, dark ensemble and black leather boots she wore. The outfit and matching dark eye shadow looked somewhat unprofessional on a doctor, but her predatory clear eyes dared her to complain about it.
The brunette took in Cameron, eyes moving over her form as she remained deathly still, carefully seizing up the smaller woman. Her eyes flickered down to the minuscule red dot growing on her thumb before raising to blue eyes again.
Cameron took another calming breath before simply ignoring the ghost of a woman and returning to the task of drying her hands. She kept an eye on her from the corner of her eyes, somewhat unsettled by the unmoving doctor watching her so closely. She had the nagging feeling that she was being checked out, but that was simply ridiculous. The hospital restroom was no place for a romantic rendezvous.
Finally unable to ignore her further, she threw away the paper towel and whirled around. "Can I—"
The restroom was empty.
"… help you?" She hadn't heard footsteps or anything, and she had only turned around for a few seconds. Too tired to freak out, she blamed it on the late hour and simply got back to work. It was the last test for the day, and as much as she wanted the case solved, she hoped it wouldn't reveal anything too interesting. She could hallucinate about beautiful, creepy women as much as she wanted in bed, at home, while she was fast asleep.
"Foreman, go home. Chase and Cameron—" House stopped mid sentence, looking mildly surprised and indignant at the way Cameron was slowly nodding off, head resting in her hand. At the elongated pause and their employer's obvious annoyed expression, Chase and Foreman followed House's gaze to Cameron.
"Raunchy sex in the supply closet," he finished his sentence, but received no reaction from the blonde. Chase didn't react either, knowing it was just a way to get Cameron's attention. House paused again, visibly weighing his options, before settling for a simple solution. "Foreman, Chase, do the scan."
"What about Cameron?" Chase asked, looking between Foreman, who was in the process of getting up, and House, who was walking towards the exit.
"She's obviously not available," House replied, rolling his eyes in his best 'duh' look.
"I'll see you in a bit," Foreman told the Australian doctor, glancing at Cameron as he made his way out.
"That's not—" Chase stopped himself, watching House turn his back on him, and instead reached over to shake Cameron gently by the shoulder.
"Hmm?" She blinked her eyes sleepily, searching the room and eventually setting her eyes on Chase.
"When was the last time you slept properly?" he asked, frowning in concern.
"I—uhm…" She raised a hand to her throbbing head, recalling the strange hallucination in the bathroom. She hadn't had a good night's sleep for over three days. It had always been interrupted by a pager, a phone, an urgent knock, or the construction workers down the street. Telling Chase that, however, would make him worry unnecessarily. "A while ago."
"You should unplug your phone and sleep in tomorrow."
She was about to object to his suggestion – it was a workday after all – but her body was protesting. "Maybe I will."
Cameron stumbled into her apartment, throwing the door behind her shut. Too tired to walk all the way over to her bed, she dropped herself onto the couch and threw an arm over her eyes.
"Welcome home, Dr. Cameron."
Cameron jumped at the voice and, immediately wide-awake, looked around the room.
Nobody was supposed to be home.
When her eyes fell on the brunette she had met earlier that day in the bathroom, folding her arms nonchalantly as she watched the dozing doctor, she let out a relieved sigh. She resettled herself on the couch and closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would claim her soon.
"You're just… going to ignore me?" The voice was closer this time, somewhat confused as opposed to the smooth purr in which it spoke earlier.
"If I go to sleep, you'll disappear," Cameron answered plainly, then realized that if she was hallucinating, she didn't need to talk aloud.
A deafening silence, then, suddenly, too close for comfort; "You're not wondering why I'm here?" Cameron cracked open an eye, observing the woman. She had kneeled in front of the couch so they were at eyelevel, shooting her a look that asked if she had lost her marbles. In that moment, as Cameron lost herself in piercing blue eyes, smooth pale skin, and ridiculously voluptuous hair, she decided that hallucinating someone so flawlessly beautiful wasn't the worst thing that could happen and that she could spare another few minutes of sleep to talk to her.
"Do I have some unresolved issue that I need to talk about?" she asked, absentmindedly toying with the idea that she had to be immensely frustrated to conjure up this woman who practically radiated sex.
She looked taken aback. "Who do you think I am?"
"I don't know." Cameron shrugged. "I might have seen you in a movie or a catalogue."
The woman watched her for another few seconds, uncomprehending, and leaned in to sniff the air.
"What?" Cameron looked somewhat annoyed, expecting her subconscious to tell her that she smelled bad.
"You're not high or drunk." She took on another perplexed look, now seriously doubting the blonde's sanity. Cameron, not entirely aware of what had been said, was too entranced by her hallucination's chalk white, smooth skin. She raised a hand to her cheek and tentatively touched the cool flesh, surprised that she was able to touch her imaginary friend. The model – she had to be, with the way she carried herself – looked down at the hand briefly. "Are you really a doctor?"
"Okay." Cameron dropped her hand. "I haven't slept in over three days, so you either tell me what the fuck is so important that I'm hallucinating about it or let me sleep."
Her eyebrows raised just a fraction, but the small action seemed to wipe away any remaining confusion. "You think you're hallucinating?"
"And I'm not doing a very good job of it," she added. "You're no one familiar, you keep asking the wrong questions, and you're still wearing your clothes."
The stranger tilted her head at the last observation, but didn't comment on it. "But you can touch me."
"It's possible." Cameron shot her a strange look. "Are you trying to convince me you're not a figment of my imagination?"
"I broke in through your open window." She pointed to the window with her thumb. Cameron didn't bother to look, but did appear to become slightly worried. The stranger's serious demeanor disappeared with a grin. "So you want me to take off my clothes, do you?"
Cameron passed her teeth over her lower lip, considering the woman's words. She could be in serious trouble if the woman wasn't a product of her imagination, but then the occurrence in the bathroom wouldn't have made any sense. Nobody human could disappear like that. And she only started seeing her this evening, which matched with her extreme lack of sleep. Besides – her eyes trailed over her face attentively – she was way too gorgeous to be anything else but a repressed fantasy. "Or I could do it for you," she responded eventually.
"You are the most unusual woman I've ever met." She leaned in dangerously close, stilling when their noses were scant millimeters apart. Cameron watched as clear blue eyes turned darker, vaguely wondering who else her hallucination should've met. "I like it," she purred.
And then Cameron was unable to piece together a single coherent thought, for there were heavenly lips pressed against hers.
Sleep suddenly seemed so far away and unnecessary.
When Cameron woke up, she noticed with some satisfaction that she wasn't tired at all. She even considered going for a morning jog. That was until she turned onto her side and saw how late it was. It would be another twenty minutes before her alarm clock went off.
Frowning, she sat up, only to realize that she was partially naked beneath the sheets. Suddenly, as she covered herself up unnecessarily, her mind was flooded with memories of last night. Images of what could only be described as forbidden fruit being devoured flashed before her eyes.
She blinked, nervously processing the happening. She should have been comatose for at least a few more hours with what had happened, and her neck – a hand raised to her neck, quickly checking both sides for any tenderness. It was fine.
With a relieved sigh, Cameron concluded that it had all been a dream. A very enjoyable, explicit dream.
She swallowed.
Thankfully, there was enough time to take a very cold shower.
This is ridiculous.
But so much fun.
The hallucination would be Thirteen, of course. And a friend of mine advised me to shut up about the story and let your imaginations go wild, so I'll do just that.
There is plot though. Juicy plot, with dark humor.