No Voyagers

T.V. Show: House MD

Pairing: Chase/Cameron

Author: Foxes' Dreams

Summary: Does true love exist? Possibly in another galaxy. Does regret install in our hearts? Until we are shredded. Chase and Cameron had both, in a matter of prolific months. Set post 3x18 "Airborne".


Let's use a jargon. If I say "attraction", you interpret it as "love".

No day is ordinary. Cameron had especially avoided the major turnabouts of that day. Sunk in scribbled paperwork and anecdotes, she wasn't exactly paying attention at the calendar, days passing and dissolving.

With the azure sky blotching and glittering on her skin, she was imponderably undisturbed, working continuously with her round glasses dangling from the very tip of her nose. Shifting her head sideways, Cameron would easily get spells of dizziness, simply dragging her into a deeper oblivion. Her birthday was just days away, but was gloriously ignored and feverishly forgotten.

The little pencil trembled slightly in her hand as the glass door opened with a squeak. Chase's sagging, hectoring view and pale, protruding eyes startled her, even in the pre-afternoon bliss. She was scornfully in no mood for talking. Dragging a chair unceremoniously harsh along the linoleum, Chase sat near her, eying her wearily.

"Something out of the ordinary?" He chirped.

Cameron was completely trampled, unable to speak. That small talk was absolutely unnecessary, bringing that kind of closure she was desperate to avoid.

"Nothing special, maybe just House leaving his paperwork as a total mess," She responded, turning her tensed back to him. A bittersweet wave of sadness washed Chase, sighing loudly and looking in the far opposite direction.

"I know your birthday is in two days. Try not to act surprised," Chase said loudly, firmly settling himself on the lithe chair. He could only accept unburdened accordance.

Cameron's mouth was agape, her eyes sparkling with ridiculous mischief. She had never imagined Chase as a genuine observer. "How do you know that?" She asked, a sobbing gasp escaping her mouth.

"House knows, I know as well," He explained simply, maintaining his piercing gaze, digits splendidly drumming on the desk. "Any special plans for that evening?" He asked turbulently.

"No, I never make such plans," Cameron said innocently, gesticulating vividly to prove her point, the scarlet of her nails creating soft waves in the open air.

"Well, you have from now. Expect me to come knock on your door around seven, that day," Chase ordered almost vehemently, standing up abruptly, exiting the room wordlessly. This kind of mechanical control was intriguing to Cameron. "And there will also be a present in the end," He added through the uncomfortably minuscule opening of the door, his voice resounding with eager anticipation.

Cameron was beyond bewildered. Maybe she needed this release from the usual, sadistic routine that had her rooting on the spot. She could indulge herself to freely plunge in her stealthy and privy fantasies.

Despite her previous hesitations, Cameron was exuberant to be walking in a coquettish, little bistro, dimly lit and cradled by a nuance of red on the walls. Their table was peripheral, clothed in a matching shade, with silvery plates glistering in the surreal candle light. Cameron's pupils were dancing with mischief, marching vigorously while the far ends of lace tenderly brushed her knees.

With a singularly posed rose, Chase was sitting near the exquisite place, expecting her with emphatic earnestness pulsating in his veins.

"You really can surprise people," Cameron whispered, cradling the flower between her slender fingers.

"I'm a man full of surprises, I must say," Chase whispered back sensually, emulative zeal dripping in his voice, as gently guided her towards the table.

Two tall glasses were promptly filled until saturation, tiny hermetic bubbles escaping the liquid. The champagne tasted gloriously and languidly on both of their tongues, an exotic flavor enveloping them in a cocoon of warmth and enamored appellation.

"To new beginnings and old acquaintances," Chase toasted again, raising the glass up to his chin, little hairs reflecting on the crystalline wall.

"To new beginnings and old acquaintances," Cameron echoed, plastering a chaste grin onto her figure.

The clinging sound rang through the entire chamber, the empirical corroboration between the two glasses startling between them a new spark. A shy, uncultured spark.

It was only later when they sealed the evening with a passionate kiss, pouring elusively in the lip lock a mutual affection that had driven them past despair, past the breaking point. Arms intermingled, breaths labored, their bodies were slowly molding into one.

That's how paradise felt like, tingling on their skins.

Let's use a jargon. If I say "nothing", you pretend to hear "everything".

Cameron had set impossible, sky-high boundaries. It was her ominous style, shutting people from her proximity, out of fear.

There she was, stranded on a deserted hallway, eyes transfixed to the medicine cart and scattered pages before her. Ever since that fastidious night, she was repellently cold, lithe, succumbed to an odd sort of slyness. She was somehow desperate to avoid Chase and his piercing gaze, knowing he would attract her in a whirling wind of passion.

Unfortunately, while she was rotating her head relentlessly, she spotted him, impeccably and casually dressed, drowning himself in chatting with some faceless colleagues. Cameron could only feel prevalent sorrow and misting regret sinking in the pit of her stomach. He seemed oddly at ease, listening carefully. It was that causality and confidence Cameron had dearly missed.

His head was bowed, some rebellious and curling strands tickling the skin from the sides of his face. His hands were conjoined in front of him, the rhythmic snap of fingers dancing in unison with Cameron's breath. She resumed her daily duty, intentionally occupying herself with a different task. She forced herself to scribble notes, to put effort, to sink in her comforting abyss. Otherwise, his hypnotic glances would make her blood boil with distraught air and distressing laxity. Chanting mutely in her head some unknown verses, she was fighting not to look in the same direction.

It was a mendacious task, after all, to put aside her feelings, out of a crazy need of professionalism and inflexibility. Her flint blue eyes searched his again, the crucifying irony making him still thoroughly engaged in conversation, back hopelessly bowed.

Pursuing tightly her lips, Cameron tried to cope with the apparent rejection. A misfit of tears threatened to overwhelm her eyelids, but she dearly fought against that urge. It was again her crowning indiscretion, her moment of vulnerability when she raised her head towards the ceiling. That's when fate stroke.

His limpid eyes were connected with hers, truthfully expressing the most veritable kind of passion and affection. The distance seemed ineffable, the splendor of his view impressing her instantly. Time stood still, those courteous seconds hitting them with compelling force, establishing a brand new level of approach.

His facial expression seemed frozen and unchanging, intense sentiment emanating from every responsive pore. The corners of her lips unconsciously pursued a small grin, the lavish closeness stirring in her the smile like it was a habitual thing. The link between their eyes was steady, constant even in the chaotic hustle and bustle of the corridor.

They stood in awe for countless seconds, savoring the each other with no touch, with just chant, spirit and refinement. Just when duty called, they were able to break apart, but the ghastly mutual sight was still impugned in their respective memories. Blind steps guided them in different directions, both hearts pounding erratically.

After all, the sweetest kisses are given with the eyes.

Let's use a jargon. If I mutter "favorable", you tend to hear "seriousness".

The night seemed inky and blotchy, the stars shining shyly on the early girdle. The shadows of the humans were a pale hue of grey, the effluvium of gestures and moving figures creating a whirlwind. Chase and Cameron met at the street intersection, holding onto their stern, apprehensive gazes. Still, they were somehow writhing in this grip, wanting to breath the silence, the stirring madness.

In the middle of the stroll towards the hospital, Chase decided to make the ultimate move. Jumping in front of her with a lengthy stride, his eyes were dancing with sudden mischief. None of his limbs were moving.

"You know what I want. Don't pretend you don't," He said with selfish grace.

He was expecting a bewildered strain of the eyes, a nonchalant shrug or a blatant wrinkle of the nose, but none of those happened, much to his surprise.

"It's exactly the same I want to happen," Cameron finally spoke, with her voice meek, but oddly strident, decisive.

"Trust me and give in," Chase replied, limiting the distance between them.

The fleecy clouds above them started to part to a liquid horizon, all shifting with gaiety. Even the time Chase and Cameron were drifting apart slowly erased.

His hand gripped hers in a flattering vice. It wasn't viciously passionate, with their fingers intermingled, it was a type of holding hands that radiated only warmth and flawless desire.

They were connected, spiritually strong, completely different than before. Walking in unison, with virtual easiness, it was a mellow scene, her heart throbbing with utter happiness.

Chase's face also splinted into a satisfactory grin, looking ahead, stealing occasional glances at her. The glances were tender and meticulous putting Cameron's well-being above all.

In their continuous promenade, they stopped at the corner of a deserted patio, part of a spacious bistro. Spinning her around with flippant joy, he trapped Cameron between the heat of his own body and the rocky, sculptured corner. Both smiling widely, they leaned forward, arms winding around crazily, hugging with desperation. The formidable barrier was finally down.

Their noses brushed tenderly, all their fugitive thoughts coming in full plenitude and settling down. There was no masquerade, just the two of them under the pitch-black immensity.

"It looks like you indeed like to be close to me," Chase said to her laughingly. "I knew you were just putting up a mask," He confessed further, tilting his head and running her slender and bony fingers on her petite waist.

"Maybe I did, in secret. Why would I have picked you to be my sleep mate in order circumstances?" Cameron asked rhetorically, the rosy lipstick shinning ardently in the dim moonlight. Her hands were wandering up his chest, the fumbling endeavor appealing him.

"I was sure of that," Chase said with a strangled noise. "Deep down, you felt something every time we would have a slip," He whispered truthfully, watching with intent the redness creeping up in her furrowed cheeks.

"It just needed time to come to the surface," She said shyly in reply, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand, pouring out only fussy enthusiasm.

The rest of the walk was completely uneventful, their steps resounding on the hard pavement. Just after they entered PPTH, his hand brushed the sensitive broadness of her shoulder.

It was a mark ingrained on her skin for the years to come, for as long time was there, witnessing their blossoming bond. For once, the destiny was on her side.

Author's Note: I can't believe today is my second anniversary in this fandom. I feel so blessed to have my passion embraced by so many others, to have the opportunity to write for such a special ship. Of course, I wouldn't be at this milestone, without the very important aid of those people: Andreza, the voice of inspiration even in the darkest hours, the person who has always embraced my flowing imagination and my liking to descriptions, Nayra and Isabel, also idea-bouncers, people who made me see the joyful part of CC, my two best friends and my mom for always believing in me, for encouraging me to keep practicing. Also, my heart goes to all the other readers, special people for me and fellow shipmates! :)

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