Author's Note: Although this didn't originally start as a Chameron story, I think it works. It didn't turn out to be story I planned, but where would be the fun in that? It's different than what I normally right. Hope you like it anyway.
Disclaimer: Could I own House? In my dreams. Do I own House? No.
Rating: M for Sexual Situations
Chase knew Cameron was torn up about House's shooting. Although it wasn't quite so obvious anymore, it was still clear she liked the man. God knew why. Chase could respect him as a doctor, but that was about it. Based on her personality, he was rather surprised Cameron didn't hate him.
But he didn't realize just how upset she was until she asked him and Foreman to dinner. They didn't spend a lot of time together outside of work, but Chase couldn't pretend he wouldn't welcome the time spent with Cameron. So he agreed.
Foreman, however, said he was too busy to come to dinner. Right then, Chase knew that he and Cameron's night out together was ruined, but Cameron surprised him. She still wanted to go out. It should've been obvious then, if not before, how she was feeling. But Chase still managed to miss it.
They went out right after work, Cameron unable to wait a moment longer. Chase had no idea why as of yet, but he guessed it had to do with House. Cameron couldn't leave that alone.
He got an inkling of the depths of her worries and fears when Cameron ordered wine with dinner. He was all too happy to share a bottle with her, but by the time their food arrived, Cameron had downed two glasses, compared to his half of one. She didn't seem well.
"Chase," she murmured, moving closer to him as they ate, and he frowned.
"Maybe you need to stop drinking now," he suggested, trying to move the bottle away from her side of the table.
"No." Cameron shook her head, reaching out to grasp Chase's arm.
"No," she repeated, and Chase could hear the vulnerability behind the word.
"Okay," he said; even though he was sure he would live to regret it.
Cameron drank two more glasses with her supper, so by the time they were ready to leave, she was beyond tipsy and on her way to smashed.
"Come on," Chase said softly, taking her by the arm and leading her through the restaurant to the parking lot and into his car. "Let's get you home."
Which was easier said than done, as Cameron's normal inhibitions were gone, erased by each sip of wine. "You're cute," she announced as Chase settled in behind the steering wheel. Chase closed his eyes. This was going to be difficult.
He tried to ignore Cameron, well at least not blatantly stare at Cameron as he drove to her apartment.
"You're cute," she said again, this time reaching a hand up to point at his face. "You."
She paused a moment, and Chase prayed she was finished. His prayer went unheard.
"We had sex once," Cameron continued. "Do you remember that? I don't really. I was high." She broke into high-pitched peels of laughter as Chase reflected on her last statement – We had sex once. Do you remember that?
God, how could he forget? Nearly every time he'd seen her since that night had been laden with memories of their one night together. It hadn't mattered at the time that she'd been high. All that had mattered was that she wanted him. Allison Cameron, the girl he'd had a crush on practically since the first day he met her, had wanted him, and he'd been all too happy to give her what she wanted.
"And now I'm drunk," she went on. "That's close to high, isn't it?"
It wasn't exactly, but Chase didn't want to correct her, not if she was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting.
"Let's have sex," Cameron finished, and Chase let out a soft groan as there was an immediate jump in his nether regions. He was onboard for that suggestion, no complaints from him.
He pulled up to the curb outside her place, and almost before he could put the car in park, Cameron was kissing him. Their lips molded together, and second by second, Chase was losing his mind. All he could think was that Allison Cameron was in his arms, her lips smashed against his.
After what felt like seconds but in reality had probably been several minutes, Cameron broke the kiss with a soft moan, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through Chase's body. Then she launched into high-pitched giggling again, the sound slowly cutting through the haze in Chase's mind.
Right. He was not in this car to sleep with Cameron again. He was supposed to be taking her home, not taking advantage of her in the front seat. He finally turned the key, and the engine stopped turning. Chase opened the door and climbed out of the car, another event in this night that was harder than it looked.
Cameron's kisses had done a number on him, and there was an obvious tenting at the front of his pants. He took a deep breath, shook his head in order to clear it. He would need all the level-headedness he could get right now in order to extricate Cameron from his car. He shut the driver's side door, walked around to the passenger's door, and opened it.
When he wasn't immediately assaulted, he ducked his head to look in the car. Cameron was half-dozing against the seat. Which was just great, definitely not something that could make an already difficult situation even more so.
Chase reached in and shook Cameron's shoulder, praying once again. She had to wake up. There was no other way for this to go.
"Cameron."
This time, it seemed, God took pity on him.
"Chase," Cameron moaned. She tried to bury her head in the seat then, so only a few of her muffled words actually reached him. Of those, 'sex' and 'now' were clearly distinguishable. Maybe God hadn't taken pity on him after all.
"You have to get out of the car now," Chase told her, offering her his hand. "Come on."
"Then sex?" Cameron asked, her tone warming back up. She was waking up more now at least.
"Then sex," Chase agreed; though he had no intentions of actually fulfilling the promise. He'd already made that mistake once – no need to do it again.
"Okay." She sounded happy, which was probably just the effect of the wine, but still. After a moment, she began maneuvering out of the car.
Chase helped her, first holding her hand, then as more of her emerged, her arm, and finally, her waist. He draped one of her arms over his shoulders as he shut the car door then helped her to the house.
"Cameron, where are your keys?" he asked as they neared her door. He should've thought of that earlier.
"My purse," she said, which luckily was clutched in her other hand, the one not draped around his neck. Chase managed to find the keys and get the door open, all while still holding on to Cameron, who seemed less steady with each passing second. Then he led her to her bedroom. There was no way he would've forgotten the way, not in a million years. He would remember the way to Cameron's bedroom until the day he died.
When they reached the room, Cameron practically collapsed on the bed, and Chase set about removing her shoes. He wanted to make her more comfortable by putting her in pajamas or something but decided against. The next time he saw her, that would just make an awkward situation even more awkward. Instead, he contented himself with managing to wrestle her sheets down the bed, even with her on it, and tucking her in. He went to the bathroom, returning with a trash can, which he set beside her.
"Good night, Cameron," he whispered, as she was nearly asleep. He smoothed her hair back, kissed her gently on the forehead, and began leaving the room.
As it was, he almost missed her mumbled, "Night, Chase." He smiled as he left the room, the smile remaining all the way to the car.
Chase sighed, burying his face in his hands, as he slid in behind the steering wheel. Tonight had almost been a disaster. Had they actually slept together again, he didn't know if he would have ever forgiven himself, or more importantly, if she would have ever forgiven him. But the danger had been averted for the time being. Tomorrow would be awkward, but it wouldn't be so bad. They'd get over it.
Just before he started the car to begin the lonely drive home, Chase wished that, for once, Cameron's inhibitions could be chased away by something other than drugs or wine, that she'd allow herself to give into him, but that was just wishing. The key turned in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Putting the car in drive, Chase started the long drive home.