I know this story is fairly old, but I'm trying to import it over to so I can lock up my LiveJournal, so to anyone reading it for the first time, I hope you like it.

Chase slowly slipped his boxers back on, smiling at Anya before leaning back down on the bed and crawling over to her, slipping her bra strap off her shoulder before pressing a soft kiss to the bare skin, grinning at the soft sound she let out, a sort of half-gasp. She buried her hands – the nails perfectly red – in his hair and peered at him curiously.

"Tell me about your last girlfriend," she asked, somewhat bluntly. As Chase had discovered from that night, she liked to be blunt. They had met in a bar and she had been tapping her heel against the air and it was like she was waiting for him and just him. He'd bought her a drink and brought her back to his place.

Chase toyed with the strap of her bra, running his thumb up and down the satin. "She was a banker. We went out for a few weeks."

"And then what? You dumped her?"

Chase scowled slightly, pausing in his lips' path. "It was a mutual break-up."

"It's never mutual," Anya countered smugly. Chase just chuckled lightly, rolling over and tugging the sheets up higher to cover both her and himself. He rested his head lazily on her shoulder, eyes falling shut as she idly brushed her fingers through his hair. "Did you choose someone else over her?"

"Work," Chase yawned the word and fell asleep quickly, exhaustion creeping in.

And he could swear, as he fell to sleep, he heard the word 'done' whispered.

He woke up groaning, his head hurt like hell and Anya was still there, chanting and spilling some kind of powder around him in a circle. "What…" he gasped, but he was tied down to the bed. "Anya!" He thrashed and tried to break loose.

"See you later, Rob," Anya smirked, her face contorted into some monstrous form and she continued chanting in a low, demonic-sounding voice. Chase bucked hard, trying to break the restraints, but she…it…whatever Anya was, stepped towards him and painted a symbol on his forehead with her thumb, whispering something that sounded vaguely like Latin.

Chase felt drowsiness overwhelm him and he passed out, nothing but fear striking him.

When he awoke again, the birds were chirping, Anya was gone, Chase was untied, and things were different. They definitely felt different. He pressed one hand to his eyes to rub them and winced, his nails a little sharper than he'd recalled. He groaned and made a mental note to cut them when he froze.

Listened to himself.

Looked at his nails.

"Oh, shit."

"Chase? Are you in there?" Cameron knocked on the apartment door worriedly, a bag of bagels in her hands. Chase had paged her, begging for her to show up as soon as possible. She knocked again, a little more insistently when Chase didn't answer, and her worry began to overwhelm her. "Chase? I got your page, are you okay?" She knocked again and this time, there was a response; the door had been opened just a little. Cameron frowned, wandering inside and seeing a woman walking away from her – blonde, wavy hair disheveled and her figure hidden by Chase's boxers and shirt. "Uh…sorry," Cameron stammered. "I was looking for Rob."

The woman turned around and simply smirked. "Well, you found me."

Cameron's eyes widened and she froze in place, the bag of bagels dropping from her grip as she clasped both hands over her mouth in shock. "Oh my god," she said, the words running together. "Oh my god. Oh my god, Chase?" The eyes looked the same. The same jaw. The accent was a giveaway and the smirk said it all.

"I brought a woman back home with me last night," Chase explained, the voice sounding melodic and Australian, the same cadence as Chase usually had. "And when I woke up the first time, she was…doing something really fucking freaky, Allison, I mean, really. The second time I woke up," Chase continued, gesturing downwards. "This had happened."

Cameron was still gaping in shock. Chase's shirt wasn't large enough for the chest, pulling at the buttons there and the face had softened and gone feminine. Her hair was perfect – Cameron wanted to scoff at that; naturally it was perfect, it was Chase – but now it was just past Chase's shoulders, wavier. Cameron's mother would have described Chase as having a classic face of beauty. Not enough to be a model, but something like a screen starlet from the forties, the fifties.

"Oh my god," was all Cameron could say, staring.

"What do I do?" Chase asked, voice tiny and worried.

Cameron took another long look at Chase, biting her lip and frowning. Chase was still about two inches taller than her, so her pants wouldn't fit and shirts might be tight, considering Chase looked to be about one cup size bigger than her.

"We go shopping," Cameron said determinedly. "Get on a pair of jeans, a sweater," she advised, hiding the smile on her face with her hand. Robert Chase was a woman. She definitely had something to be amused about for the next week or … wow, year even.

Chase just stared at her helplessly, pouting.

"Chase," Cameron said sternly. "If you're going to be a woman, at least let me make you as drop-dead gorgeous as I can."

"Well," Chase grumbled, biting her lower lip. "Fine."

It was a damn good thing Chase had money to spend because the way Chase went through stores and picked clothes made Cameron envious. They were loaded down in bags by the time they left the mall and Cameron found herself…well, enjoying the time. It was like going shopping with her older sister again – before her sister had gotten married, had kids, and moved fifteen hundred miles away.

"You'll look great in the stuff we bought you," Cameron said encouragingly as they loaded up the trunk to Chase's car. She shut it and leaned against the BMW's trunk, peering over at Chase, studying her face because it was still so very weird. Chase was a woman. Chase was a good-looking woman. If Cameron weren't that secure with her own beauty, she might have felt a little worried.

"Thanks," Chase said warmly, pink lips curving up in a smile.

Cameron toed at a piece of gravel at her feet. "So, you thought about what you're going to tell the others?"

Chase bit her lip – Cameron made a mental note to buy some makeup. She'd show Chase how to do it later on – and shrugged. "Not really, no."

"Well, you can't escape the resemblance," Cameron warned. "You look too much like yourself as a man."

"My cousin, Rebecca," he suggested. "She's a cardiologist in Sydney. I can pretend to be her, say that I went down to Melbourne to visit family and I've sent her in my place for the duration." Chase frowned. "Cuddy would go for that, right?"

"With the shortage of doctors?" Cameron scoffed, nodding. "So long as your cousin hasn't been sued for malpractice, you'll be fine. Besides, we'll say it's only temporary. The background check should run fine, right?" Chase nodded swiftly. "And…do you look like her?"

"We bear resemblance," Chase smirked.

Cameron picked at a piece of lint on her shirt and curiously stared at Chase and the figure, her face and the lift of the cheekbones, the way her hair fell over her features. "What's it like?" she asked suddenly, the curiosity almost too much to bear. "I mean, inside, what's it feel like?"

Chase turned to look at Cameron after a moment, eyes wide. "Scary," she admitted quietly.

"How?"

"I feel…different. Completely. Like my insides got all turned around and changed and I came out differently. My emotions are in overdrive and I'm nervous and scared and anxious and a little excited all at once, and I have this stupid desire to try on all my clothes and be impressive," Chase rattled off all the words. "And…" Chase sighed with a deep exhalation. "Since this morning, I haven't had a single sexual thought about a woman."

Cameron glanced over at him, hiding her smile once more. "You mean…?"

"I think whatever she did, she did the full job on me," Chase said, the shadows of misery in her voice. "And the scariest part is that it feels…normal."

"Normal?" Cameron inquired as they sat there on the trunk of Chase's car. "What," she laughed slightly, terribly amused by all of this. "Like you're…like you're…" She faltered when she realized what Chase was saying. It wasn't just a physical change, it was a complete change through and through. "Oh my god," she said again.

"You really need to stop saying that," Chase said to her.

Cameron smiled ruefully at Chase. "You're a beautiful woman," she said warmly. "You're so screwed when House sees you."

"Yeah, I know."

"Congratulations, James, you're officially single again," House remarked with a smirk, holding up his mug of coffee to toast with. "And the divorce only cost you what, this time? Forty grand?" He chuckled to himself and snapped his fingers for a sugar packet, which Wilson promptly threw over from where he stood at the table. House shook it and turned to Foreman. "Where are your playmates? Don't they know work started hours ago?"

Foreman just shrugged. "I'm not their keeper." He nodded to Wilson. "Why's he here? Are we thinking cancer?"

"After seeing the biopsy, uh, yeah," House said, rolling his eyes. He checked his watch, turning to Wilson. "Am I allowed to fire them after four hours pass and they don't show up? What are they doing, having sex again?"

As if on cue, Cameron wandered in the room. "Sorry I'm late, I was helping Chase."

"And the puppy is…where? Cameron, did you let him off the leash?" House asked, rolling his eyes. "We do have a patient whose life I'd like to save in the next day or so. Where's Chase?"

"Melbourne," a new voice remarked. House peered up from stirring his coffee to see a young blonde woman wandering in, knee-length shirt matching her blouse; her heels clicked and clacked their way across the floor. She was Australian too, huh. "I'm Rebecca Chase, I'm Rob's cousin. He called me because he wanted to go pay his Dad last respects. I'm a cardiologist down in Sydney, you can check my credentials."

And she was gorgeous. House was leering, seeing if he couldn't scare this one off. Foreman had just arched an eyebrow and somewhere behind him, Wilson was sputtering, choking on the coffee he'd just sipped. Figured. Wilson always liked blondes. And doctors. And gorgeous young women who were doctors, blondes, and had an accent.

"So, you want to fill in?" House inquired, glancing to Cameron and grinning lasciviously. "Cameron, have you been getting adventurous in the janitor's closet?"

Cameron scoffed and sat down. "Grow up," she muttered, picking up her files.

House was still staring. "Rebecca Chase, huh?" He limped over to her and she seemed to hang her head just slightly, a barrette clipping back wavy hair on one side. "Cardiologist? You as good as your cousin?"

"I try to be," she answered, finally lifting her glance and keeping it locked with House for a moment before her gaze flickered to Foreman, then to Wilson, resting there before her cheeks turned pink. House glanced over his shoulder to find Wilson staring at her. "My references are very good. And I'd only be here until Robert returned."

"Well, I always did like a nice piece of artwork," he said, directing the comment at Cameron. He limped past, grabbing her ass as he went and smirking at the squeal of a sound she gave.

"I can sue you," she hissed.

"House," Foreman said warningly. "What the hell are you doing?"

House just grinned. "Jimmy, stop drooling. And Becky, you're hired."

tbc