A/N: I'm hoping for more regular, but shorter updates from now on. Things are just starting to get interesting.
On the days when there's no case and he's already finished his clinic hours, Chase rearranges the journals and books piled on the conference table in order of size. Depending on the day before, it can be quite the herculean task. Not so much today.
Today he has time for his second slow day activity. It'd been a necessity during those few years when it had just been Mum and him and he'd never quite dropped the habit. So when he had time, he'd pull out his moleskin notepad and jot down a few lists. Never anything important, not anymore, but little reminders of whatever was going on in his life at the time. He supposed it was similar to a journal, although no one there's no way anyone else would understand the random combinations of words and numbers on the page.
In his head, he titles the list, "five things I want." These are the lists that take the longest and most times, he doesn't even finish.
1. Sandwich
This one is obvious. It's almost 2 and he's waiting for Cameron to finish with the mail, so he can suggest a trip to the cafeteria. He hasn't had anything to eat since that bagel for breakfast, and he could murder a roast beef sandwich right now. But the promise of a few minutes away with Cameron to himself is more tempting than a full stomach. They're at their best when the promise of "uncomplicated" sex is far removed. Nothing forced, nothing expected. She'll smile, he'll laugh and sometimes she'll touch his arm or he'll brush her hair from her face and it's almost like they're in a relationship. A real relationship. It's totally pathetic how much he wants this. How much he's willing to overlook to keep the charade alive. Like his grumbling stomach.2. Peeps
Peeps are both cheerful and delicious. And it's right around the time of the year that they start showing up at grocery store counters, staring at him with their tiny peep eyes. He can't resist them. Every Easter, he stockpiles a few of the yellow and purple ones in the cupboard by his refrigerator. He doesn't use the space often and it's easy to forget them. They're even better when they're just this side of stale. Food. He really wants food.3. Coffee
Apparently, all his wants (besides a relationship with Cameron) are sustenance focused. Not surprising because of the gnawing hunger. Will Cameron ever finish with the mail? It's as if she wants to torture him. Coffee is nearing necessity status...There's a fresh pot of coffee across the room, but grabbing a fresh cup would mean getting up from the table and Chase is suddenly tired through to his bones. The list and his hunger forgotten, Chase puts his head down on the table to rest his eyes for a minute. Just a week ago he'd been complaining about insomnia and now he can't keep his eyes open.
There's a niggling thought in the back of his mind that this isn't normal; that something isn't quite right. But he's a busy doctor and under a lot of stress and he never eats right, so there's a lot that can be excused. There's a three day weekend coming up and he'll catch up on sleep then.
He feels her hand on his arm before he can even attempt to open his eyes. It's freezing in the room and when he shivers, she squeezes his arm. That's enough and he sleepily grins in her direction.
"Hey." He rubs the back of his neck after he finally sits upright. His arms still feel asleep, like they aren't attached to his body and when he finally turns to Cameron, he notices her face is halfway between amused and concerned.
"Are you okay?" she says, brushing the hair off his forehead. "You feel a little warm and look like crap."
"Thanks." He can't deny he's seen better days, but he's seen worse as well and worked through it. "I'm okay. Just a little tired, I think."
She smiles at that and reaches under her chair for a plastic grocery bag. "Because we've been so busy lately, right. Stop watching so much tv when you should be sleeping." She pulls out two sandwiches and puts the larger in front of Chase. "I thought you might be hungry."
He could kiss her, right there in the office, Cuddy be damned. The sandwich is glorious, though the lettuce has wilted and the bread is wet. He takes a bite before he sees that Cameron is owed a response. "Thank you. This is perfect. I love you." It's only after he offers the effusive praise that he realizes what he's said.
To her credit, she doesn't skip a beat and ignores his misstep. "You're welcome. Are you thirsty?" She pulls the bag open again to take out a drink and Chase sees a third sandwich, a reuben, tucked neatly in the bag. Right. Nothing special about this lunch.
"Sure. Thanks." He must be really tired, because he can't keep the disappointment out of his voice. She has that quizzical, scrunched face that always makes him smile, but he can't right now. Who is he kidding? This isn't working for anyone but her and blind nuns in Cambodia can probably see the trainwreck coming.
But Chase has never been one to leave before the end of the movie, no matter how horrible. Sometimes he thinks it's morbid curiousity, wanting to see how long it takes to implode, like when he was in uni and didn't clean his dorm for weeks. Or maybe it's part of his neurosis, sticking with women who have little to no regard for his feelings. Mum always apologized, but never even tried to get better. He's reasonably sure that if he told Cameron about this thing, she'd try to be nice about it, but she'd run as soon as she got the chance. At least now there's almost a guarantee that he'd be going home with her tonight. Better than nothing and more than he deserved.
"Earth to Chase?" Cameron's face has moved from quizzical to concerned and she's got her hand on his arm again. "You're zoning out. Are you sure you're alright? You feel really warm."
"I think I might be coming down with something. Something was going around in the clinic this week. Just a matter of time really." He tries for reassuring and fails miserably. "I'm going to knock off early and get some sleep, will you cover for me?"
"Of course. You want me to come over? I could play doctor." Tempting. "I make a mean chicken noodle."
It's almost inconceivable to him when he hears himself say no. Must be sicker than he thought. She forces him to sit through a quick examination (as a joke, he thinks) and they both sigh when the thermometer she produced from her pockets puts him firmly in the fevered category.
"Go home, Chase."
He gets home somehow even though the bone-deep fatigue had returned halfway through the drive home and managed to take some tylenol before crawling into bed.
He dreams of running, reaching for things that fall just outside his grasp.
And then he's falling.
When he wakes, the bed is damp with sweat and his skin feels too tight.