Disclaimer: Don't own
A/N: Hi! I love all the fabulously wonderful comments and I'm extremely grateful, but I would just like to let you know constructive criticism is always welcome. Along with ideas you want to see played out at fanfic. I'm suffering from a wee bit of writers block at the moments so… I, also, am not a big Cameron fan so I really haven't studied her behavior as much and House and Chase's so if any on you are Cameron fans and think I got some of this wrong let me know and I'll try to adjust my view of her in future chapters (I'm also not saying I'm an expert at House or Chase so your opinions of them are welcome too, I'm just at a loss with Cameron)… okay I've rambled long enough here is the chapter!
Chase was dozing in House's recliner in his office. He'd been this way since about five minutes after he walked into work, completely exhausted and about two hours late. (House came in about an hour before him and was currently sleeping in exam one.) This was due to last night's events and the creative way House answered Chase's question this morning.
There wasn't anytime for Chase to go home and get ready, so he was forced to make the most out of an almost-empty bottle of hair gel Wilson had left behind when he moved out, a two-sizes-too-big-bright-red-wrinkled-button-up-dress shirt that House had crumpled up and hid in his dresser, and a plain black tie House had stashed in the back of his closet from his Grandfather's funeral ten years ago. Chase decided trying to fit into House's pants would be way too much of a challenge and just wore his from last night. (House was three sizes bigger than Chase in pants and liked wearing them two sizes too big—Chase liked his two sizes too small.)
Chase looked completely ridiculous! With his golden locks looking stale and stiff and his shirt… he looked like an eight year old wanting to wear "grown-up" cloths to bring-your-child-to-work day. That morning when Chase stepped out of the bathroom in his "grown-up" cloths House couldn't help but smile and pull Chase in for a kiss… which just made him feel like a pedophile… until he slipped his hands around Chase's waist, brought them up to his abs, and realized no child could ever have Chase's washboard abs like his. This just made House want Chase even more and proceeded to take him for the second-and-a-half times that morning.
As Chase was curled up in a ball in House's chair he was having an extremely pleasant dream about the owner of the chair. Chase curled up tighter thinking he was in House's arms and breathed in the sent of his new lover off the backrest. Just as Chase came to a particularly pleasant part of his dream Cameron walked in, in time to hear Chase murmur, "House…," give a low moan, and press his face harder into the backrest of the delicious smelling chair.
Cameron was shocked. There is no way… she thought. But then Chase whispered House's name again and nuzzle the backrest with a small smile of satisfaction. HOUSE?! He's dreaming about HOUSE?! Her jaw was frozen open and had dropped almost completely to the floor. It was hanging so low it might actually require surgery to return it to its normal position.
Chase blinked himself awake and smacked his lips together a few times. He repositioned himself in The Chair of Endless Fun realizing he was practically dating the fabric. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and cracked his neck before noticing he wasn't alone.
"Oh, uh… hey Cameron. What's up?" Chase asked hoping she hadn't walked in when he was dreaming.
"Hey... sweet dreams?" She asked raising her eyebrows suggestively. Chase blushed and cleared his throat.
"Do we have a case?" He asked gesturing to the navy blue file she was holding.
"Yeah… (Insert proper medical jargon here.)"
"Where's Forman?" Chase asked glancing at the file; realizing they would need a neurologist.
"Um… clinic, I think," Cameron answered still partly freaking over Chase's dream.
"I'll get him… and House," Chase offered glad to have an excuse to get out of there away from Cameron's questioning eyes and underneath House's loving—well liking anyway—eyes.
Cameron nodded and turned away to go into the main office to write the symptoms on the white board.
HouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChase
There was a knock on the door of exam room one, a very loud, annoying, persistent knock. It was one that woke House out of a sound sleep—and dream similar to Chase's. House groaned and shifted around in the uncomfortable exam table he really must talk to Cuddy about getting them replaced.
The door opened and a plucky, glowing, tow-headed, boyish doctor in an insanely large shirt poked his statue stiff locks accompanied with a flushed pink face in the door, "Are you busy?" He asked knowing full-well the answer was no, his accent was unusually thick (that was on purpose, of course) and he had an pompous air to him that would have normally bugged House, but it seemed to be laced with a humility of sorts that put a certain tenderness in the young doctor that House admired and was constantly confused by.
"You interrupted my nap," House said gruffly sitting up.
"Sorry," Chase said closing the door clearly not sorry… but amused for some reason. He looked around and checked to see if the blinds were closed—they were. "We have a case (Chase talks about the patient)"
House sighed and rubbed his eyes, "It's probably just (medical disease) give her (medicine) and send her home," He lay back down on the exam table. Chase stayed, arms crossed.
"No, the ER already checked, the (test) was negative," he stepped closer to House and rest his hand on House's scar and began slowing kneading his fingers into it, House whimpered.
"Re… check it's… got to… be (disease)," House moaned and grabbed Chase's muscular arm pulling it to him and Chase (specifically Chase's mouth) onto him.
"They… did, it's not… (Disease)," Chase mumbled through it busy lips, he broke the kiss and brushed his fingers on the side of House's face. They were now lying horizontal on the table arms wrapped around each other; Chase had his face pressed against House's chest.
"Okay," House said softly, not being able to say no to Chase who looked so peaceful and happy just to be in House's arms.
"I… I think Cameron may know… about… us," Chase stuttered looking like a kid who just got his had caught in the cookie jar.
The door creaked open and Cameron burst in, with anger flickering in her eyes, wondering where House and Chase were—it had been almost a half hour since Chase went in search of House. The anger in her eyes turned to shock, then disbelief, then an emotion unrecognizable as she saw her play thing cuddling with her former love interest on an exam table.
Chase turned the color of deoxygenated blood. He tried to bolt from House's arms, but House held him there, and looking down with a small smile spread across his beaten and swollen lips, "I think she knows for sure now,"
