A/N: Hey all you sports fans, welcome back to another sappy oneshot by yours truly. ;D This one's a little longer than most of mine are (like the Hodgela one), but I felt like there was more to say. Also, this is my first 'House' fic, and I was having a great time working with the characters -- especially Cameron. Love her! :D

Anyways, like my summary mentioned, I'm looking to maybe tack on a sequel to this (like when Cameron comes back to work), so let me know what you think! The title also is subject to change.

Dedicated to the beautiful Catherine, who reminds me daily that there's more than one kind of love. Also thanks to TehOriginalPwnerer -- I don't know if you read House stuff, but thanks for all your support. You're the fan that every writer hopes to have one day. x3

Takes place before House goes to Mayfield, so end of Season 5-ish. Characters and franchise belong to Fox, not me. :C

Tasting the Sky

When violet eyes get brighter
and heavy wings grow lighter,
I'll taste the sky and feel alive again.

"Vanilla Twilight" -- Owl City

---

Dr. Robert Chase looked up from the kitchen sink as the front door to his and Dr. Allison Cameron's apartment slammed closed.

"I guess I should say 'good morning'," he called out, turning and shaking the soapy water off his hands. Dish detergent with the faint scent of grapefruit flew in all directions. "You worked through Thursday."

"It's good to see you too," a worn and slightly groggy voice answered from the living room. Chase stepped out of the kitchen to see her just inside the door. Cameron's entire body was drooping as she swayed uneasily. Everything from her rumpled clothes to her disheveled hair belied her exhaustion.

Chase could see at once she was in no mood for ribbing. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms with a quiet, "C'mere." Cameron responded by clinging wearily to him and pressing warm lips to the side of his neck.

"How was Thursday?" she breathed against his shoulder, warming his skin through his shirt.

"Unremarkable," he chuckled. "You didn't miss much. I can't believe they had you working so late, though. I don't normally beat you home."

"It was a crazy night – day – whatever." Cameron shook her head, still pressed against Chase. "The first warm weather in weeks brings people to the ER in hordes."

"I would imagine." Chase went to brush her hair from her face and hesitated as his hand touched on her forehead. "Cameron— darling, you're really hot." He pressed the back of his hand and then his palm against her face and the side of her neck.

"Flattery," Cameron protested, weakly shrugging off his touch. "I'm coming to bed anyway. You don't need to persuade me."

"Good to know, but I meant that you're feverish." Chase grasped her arms, feeling the heat radiate off of her. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Honestly? No." She laughed softly, blinking glassy brown eyes. "I feel like I'm about to fall over."

"That's it – you're heading to bed," Chase informed her in his best no-nonsense tone and kissed her gently on her forehead before he swept her into his arms. Cameron leaned against him and closed her eyes.

"You're really light," Chase informed her as he carried her to their bedroom. His footsteps drummed a gentle cadence on their hardwood floors.

"Good to know," Cameron echoed his earlier statement in a whisper. She could feel his heartbeat, warm and steady as it thudded in her ears. Each beat thrummed through her body like a signal beacon, reminding her who was holding her and, most of all, that she was loved.

"Hmm?" she mumbled sleepily, pulling back to the here and now. Chase had set her on her side of the bed, and the look on his face indicated that he was awaiting a response.

"I was just asking if I could get you anything. Water? Ibuprofen?" He was already halfway to the door.

"That would be great." Cameron smiled up at him, her glassy-eyed gaze giving her a lazy, detached look.

Her thoughts floated away from her body again, spiraling on the updrafts of her dazed mind. A pulse – she assumed it came from her chest this time - slammed through her like the notes of a persistent drummer, reverberating through her head and limbs with an urgent intensity so unlike Chase's gentle beat. Her temples were beginning to throb along with it, and she closed her prickling eyes. The fan above their bed sent down whirring drafts that began to twine against her skin like timid cats, purring with cool relief.

"Here."

Cameron forced her eyes open to see him kneeling beside the bed with a glass of water and two little white pills. She took the capsules with trembling fingers. Chase pressed the cup to her lips and held it there as the water took the edge off the flames dancing in her throat.

"My God, Cameron, you're burning up." He placed the cup on a side table and immediately moved his hand to her face again. Cameron held his cool fingers to her cheeks and sighed almost inaudibly, allowing her eyes of liquid chocolate to slide closed again.

"The Ibuprofen should help bring the fever down," Chase was talking to her. His voice, nearly indecipherable, broke over her like waves, rushing over her smoldering body and relaxing her aching muscles.

"Allison?" Her name sounded so sweet on his lips, and she blearily opened her eyes again. He called her Allison as often as she called him Robert – almost never. She was Cameron and he was Chase, and he had been a chase. The name was so appropriate, considering the years it had taken their two stubborn spirits to drift together.

"Does anything else hurt?" He continued, catching her chin between his icy fingers as he forced her gaze to merge with his.

Cameron recognized his medical training even through his tenderness and her fever, and she struggled to condense her thoughts. "I'm really sore all over, I guess," she managed, pulling herself back to the Cameron who had only arrived home minutes ago, before Chase had let her melt into his love. "Headache. Muscle aches. Though I did work a long day – it could just be fatigue." Her voice faded out with her energy on the last phrase, but she knew Chase had understood her.

"It could be, if you hadn't spiked a fever," he mused, beginning to stroke her hair with his cool, gentle fingertips. She closed her eyes again, feeling the muscles in her face relax under his soothing touch.

She was drifting away again when he brushed his soft lips to her forehead. "I'll let Dr. Cuddy know you won't be coming into work tomorrow – er, today. When I go in."

"Mmkay." Cameron reached out blindly until her lips met what felt like his neck. He ran his fingers deftly through her hair one more time before pulling away.

Cameron sensed the change in light from behind her closed eyelids as Chase moved around the apartment, and she vaguely remembered feeling him crawl into bed beside her. But when she regained consciousness, it was to an empty bed and an empty apartment.

"…Chase?" She breathed, drawing the heel of her hand across her eyes in an attempt to clarify her surroundings. A glance at the clock showed her he was long gone – it was a little after noon. The apartment was silent and motionless, suspended in a calm grayish glow as light filtered through the thick weave of the curtains. When she rolled to face his side of the bed, a folded slip of paper lying on his pillow got her attention.

"Good morning, sunshine," it read, when she finally managed to get it open and right-side up. The handwriting was as familiar as her breath, and the soft accent played in her head as her still-fuzzy line of vision skimmed the words.

"I hope you're feeling better – your temperature seemed to have gone down when I left. Call me if you're up to it. If not, I'll see you later. I'm going to try to get home as soon as I can.

Love you. xx

Cameron gently refolded the note along its haphazard crease, feeling a tiny smile on her face.

She did feel a little better, though she didn't think she would make it far out of bed. The chills just beginning to slice up her skin told her that she was still running a fever, and even thinking about moving hurt. Her body decided her next course of action for her as she felt herself sliding gently back to sleep, still clutching the small piece of paper to her heart.

---

"Tell me something." Dr. Gregory House didn't look up from the pen he was flipping between his fingers, though his tone was hardly disinterested. Dr. James Wilson stood impatiently inside his doorway.

"Did you just page me here to entertain you? I was with a patient, House – I have to go." He moved to the door again.

"Why would Captain Kangaroo show up without his faithful partner in crime, The People-Fixer?" House's sharp eyes slid to Wilson, and he cocked his head inquisitively.

"The – what?" Wilson paused, sufficiently confused.

House rolled his eyes. "The Aussie. He came to work today without his blonde bombshell in tow."

"Hmm. Well." Wilson brought his hand to his chin and put on an expression of false pondering. "She could have gone in a different door, or she might be coming in later, or maybe they took different cars, or any of a hundred other reasons."

"Come on, man, be creative! I disproved those already." House flapped his hand at Wilson. "Anything else? Maybe something a little more, oh, I don't know, gossipy?"

"Can I go now?" Wilson asked flatly, already reaching for the handle.

"Come back when you have something more substantial to say! Geez, stop wasting my time when I'm trying to work," House clicked his tongue, then leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk as the door to his office closed behind Wilson.

---

The diagnostic room was silent. Foreman reclined at the end of the table with his hands behind his head, an amused smile touching his lips. Taub sat to his right, leaning forward as he looked over a stack of papers in front of him. Thirteen was on Taub's right, arms crossed, with an expression very different from Foreman's on her face.

House was the epicenter, as usual. He stood facing the whiteboard with a marker in his hand, frozen. He hadn't moved for at least three minutes, but his team knew better than to question his motives.

"Would 'paralysis' happen to be a symptom of our newest patient?" Foreman spoke aloud, breaking the understood silence.

House didn't move. Thirteen sighed in annoyance, tossing her hair over her shoulder absently.

The gliding sound of a glass door on carpet turned the attention of the seated doctors to the diagnostic room's entrance, where Chase had just entered with a file in his hand.

"Can I…help you?" He asked slowly, his gaze flicking across the room. Dark smudges under his eyes gave him a haggard appearance, and his soft accent had picked up a rougher edge.

House turned around slowly and dramatically. "And heeeeeeeere he is! Robert Chase, come on down!" he boomed in his best imitation of a gameshow host.

"You paged me; I thought--" Chase fished his pager from his belt, checking the screen in confusion.

"We don't have a patient right now," Taub informed him, head tilted in confusion.

"Then why are you all--"

"Where's Cameron?" House interrupted Chase's puzzled interjections, and he shifted his position so his body was squared around his cane.

"Where's…" Foreman broke in, also looking confused now.

"Just because they're married doesn't mean--" Taub tried, but House waved his hand to cut him off.

"She's sick," Chase answered, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Why?"

"I asked where she is – I couldn't care less how she is," House snapped.

"She's at home. Can I go now?" Chase demanded, unknowingly echoing Wilson from a few hours ago.

"All right folks, let's give him a hand!" House applauded sardonically, throwing on his gameshow host persona again. Chase left without another word.

House stood in thought for several seconds before also striding from the room, leaving his three diagnostic assistants behind.

"Did that have any sort of point whatsoever, or was it just a complete and utter waste of our time?" Taub shook his head, gathering his papers together.

"Cameron must be really sick to miss work," Foreman mused, eyes on the table in front of him. "She'd come in on her deathbed if she could."

Taub was almost to the door when the glass pane slammed open again, narrowly missing colliding with the short plastic surgeon.

"Did I say you could leave?" House poked his head back in the room again, shaking his head in mock disgust. "Shame on you, wanting to bail when we have another patient to deal with."

"We have a new patient?" Thirteen sat up straighter in her chair, speaking for the first time since they had assembled.

"We've already established this, thanks," House shot at her as he limped the rest of the way into the room, taking his place by the whiteboard again. As he made his way across the carpet, he fished a tan rubber band from the pocket of his coat.

"House, I have your--" A frazzled-looking Cuddy opened the door, a stack of folders under her arm, but she immediately halted as the rubber band flew from House's finger and bounced off her breast.

"Aw, damn. I was planning on you wearing another low-cut top today." House snapped his fingers in disappointment.

Cuddy paused for a second to compose herself before all but slinging the stack of folders onto the table. "Here's his file. Go make him better." She turned on her heel and stalked from the room, though House didn't miss the tiny smile on her face before she was out of sight. A sly smile stole onto his face, and he turned to the white board again.

"So, about this sick guy…"

---

A rap on their apartment door drew Cameron back to the edge of consciousness, where her mind fluttered like a frenetic bird. Flashes of the ceiling of her bedroom wove themselves into her fevered dreams until the colorful chaos dissolved completely, leaving a rather empty reality behind.

"Chase?" Cameron heard herself moan, and she fought back a twinge of embarrassment. She couldn't help that she wanted him by her side, especially when she was so out of it. Even through her confusion and general lack of energy, she recognized attachment when she saw it. Cameron also knew that Chase was probably worrying about her at work, but that thought gave her more feelings of guilt than comfort.

A second series of knocks on the door reminded her why she had pulled herself out of that well of sleep, and she allowed her gaze to slowly slide into focus. She wasn't about to get the door – she could hardly sit up in bed. Hopefully whoever it was would go away.

No such luck. Cameron's mind hardly registered the situation as a key rattled in the lock and the door creaked open. Chase? Her neurons perked up like lonely puppies.

"Dr. Cameron?"

No, that was most definitely not Chase. For one, it was a female voice, and the accent was all wrong. Plus, Chase never tacked "Doctor" onto her name.

The voice was familiar, even if it wasn't the one she was hoping for. Cameron's sluggish brain trawled through the women she saw enough to know their voices. It wasn't Cuddy, though the pitch was similar. Was it one of the clinic or ER nurses? No, so it had to be--

"Doctor…Cameron?"

Cameron managed to lever herself up on her elbow enough to peer into the living room. "Dr. Hadley?" Her voice was weak but audible, and the trim, dark-haired figure of House's follower Dr. Remy "Thirteen" Hadley moved into view.

"I'm sorry -- did I wake you?" She hesitated with her hand on the doorframe. Cameron was a little amused – Thirteen never looked as insecure as she did now. The attractive doctor was anxiously running her fingers through the ends of her hair, and her feline eyes were skittish.

"No, I was already awake." Cameron lied, pulling herself up to a sitting position with a smile that she hoped was welcoming. It worked – Thirteen took a small step into the room. Cameron was about to inquire as to why Thirteen was in her house in the middle of the work day (and why she hadn't brought Chase, for starters) when the brunette's fidgeting slowed.

"House sent me to check our newest patient's house for toxins, and the neighborhood is only one or two over from yours and, uh…Chase had said this morning that you were sick, and he's too tied up to check in on you so…well, I thought I could – I thought I might as well…"

"Thanks," Cameron gently cut her off, allowing the nervous young doctor to save face. "That's…really sweet of you. I appreciate it." She self-consciously adjusted the strap of her thin tank top that she vaguely remembered Chase helping her change into in those dim, early hours of the morning. With Chase back in her mind, she set the note she still clutched on the table beside the bed.

"House paged Chase into the diagnostic room to interrogate him this morning," Thirteen relayed with a smile. "I think he thought that your marriage was in trouble, or something along those lines."

"He would," Cameron chuckled softly. "I'm surprised he hasn't ducked over here himself."

"Yeah." Thirteen moved her dark gaze to her hands, then back to Cameron. "While I'm here – can I get you anything?"

Cameron stretched while she thought about it, fighting off the fatigue that was rushing in again to claim her. She could feel her carefully-positioned frame drooping. "I'm actually fine right now. Chase left me some Ibuprofen, which I've been taking like it's my job." She smiled. "Could you let him know I'm doing okay, though? I was supposed to call him, but I can't really…well, I don't think I could get very far."

"Yeah, definitely," Thirteen replied smoothly. Cameron saw her eyes click into diagnostic mode like a slide on an old film projector. "What exactly's going on, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Head and muscle aches, fatigue, fever," Cameron listed, sinking back into her pillows despite herself. Thirteen closed the space between her and the bed and gingerly laid the back of her hand across Cameron's forehead.

"My God, it's a good thing you stayed home," she whistled silently as her cool skin pressed against Cameron's. Cameron didn't protest – the contact felt good, and she knew Thirteen knew what she was doing. Plus, it was kind of nice to have someone around. Her spirit reached out hungrily, enveloping the white noise of Thirteen's breathing and the tender cadence of her heart, soaking up the heat of her body and the brightness of another human presence. Cameron had never been too much of a people person, but when she was sick and alone, the first thing she wanted was company.

"You said you've been taking Ibuprofen?" Thirteen's warm voice broached her awareness again, and Cameron nodded without opening her eyes.

"I took the last pills like six hours ago. He only set a few by the bed; I think the rest are in the bathroom."

"I'll get you some – the others will have worn off by now. You should probably take some more liquids as well."

Her light footsteps padded away, slowing until she found the bathroom. Moving towards the kitchen, clacking on the tile. A cabinet opened, then closed. Water running. Tile, hardwood, then carpet again.

"Here you go." Two capsules pressed into her palm, and Cameron's chocolate eyes fluttered open as she obediently swallowed the pills, then took the water Thirteen offered her. Once again the water soothed her tender throat with a wonderful calming sensation.

"Do you need anything else? I have a while before I have to be back at the hospital," Thirteen hedged, clearly unwilling to leave Cameron while she was ill. Doctor's instincts, Cameron reminded herself: it wasn't personal. Yet her detached, professional manner was balm on Cameron's rough and lonely mind, reminding her that House and Work didn't always come first.

"Would you mind…staying for a while?" Cameron cleared her throat, wincing a little at her hoarse voice.

Thirteen nodded, and Cameron was treated to one of her rare, glowing smiles -- a window to her heart. The attractive, enigmatic doctor with her insular tendencies was a riddle that taunted her coworkers daily. So used to cracking puzzles and solving problems, here they were faced with a mystery of a woman who refused to let them in to see her weak points. But Cameron was better at reading hearts than even House admitted, and she knew someone broken when she saw them.

Cameron floated back to reality to feel Thirteen sliding onto the bed beside her, taking the position Chase usually occupied. The golden-haired doctor rolled blearily to face her companion, sighing as a state of warm relaxation crept into her consciousness. Before Cameron faded away into the arms of sleep once more, she flicked her eyes open to see the beautiful feline creature gazing serenely into her face, her gray eyes soothing. Thirteen reached over and gently brushed a piece of Cameron's hair out of her face, then settled back against the pillows as the feverish doctor's breathing deepened and she sank slowly into unconsciousness.

Cameron dreamed more peacefully than her chaotic visions of earlier. She dreamed of warmth, safety, and a love that burned in an explosion of passion. When she awoke, the olive-skinned goddess had vanished, though her presence lingered in the faint scent on the covers and the enhanced brightness in the room. Cameron slept again, and she dreamed of touching the sky.

Go go go, hit that review button! :D Should I continue?

Thanks so much for reading! :)