Chapter 9
A/N: I am so appreciative of the positive feedback! I'm so glad you're all enjoying it. Lots of small talk in this chapter - I think I went a bit too far with some of it. Please don't space out too much.
They were keen to return home, having had enough of the journey, even though their quest had not been completed. They had one last stab at an answer, before giving up, none too reluctantly. Having spent three days with each other, their discomfort was less apparent, though there were still moments in which their uneasiness returned.
"Come on, Chase, it's only two hours."
"You're injured. I'm sure they'd understand."
"This is the immunologist House sent me for. And he wanted me to find out about a new drug."
Chase sighed inwardly. He couldn't keep arguing with Cameron. She obviously wanted to go to this thing.
Cameron had hardly touched her suitcase, so it appeared. It was already neatly packed, and all Cameron seemed to do was fold her pyjamas on the top.
Chase, on the other hand, was not quite so tidy. It wasn't a complete disaster, with items of clothing strewn around the room - no, he had more dignity than that. They were all contained within his travel bag, but he hadn't bothered to fold anything. However, he'd had quite a lot of room to spare when he departed, so the fact that his suitcase looked like a laundry basket (which, in a way, he supposed it was) didn't matter, as it didn't take up more room than he had to spare.
Chase zipped up the bag and stood it up.
Cameron came out of the bathroom, struggling with her toiletries bag and her crutches. Chase went over and took the bag out of her hands.
"Thanks." She gestured with her head to her suitcase. "Could you put it in the front pocket?"
Chase obliged. He thought perhaps she had injured a lower body part before, as she had an unusual aptitude for using crutches.
"You ready?" she asked him.
"Yep."
She inclined her head to the door.
"Let's go."
Chase, again, didn't take a word in, though he knew Cameron, beside him, was very interested by the kind of attention she was paying to the front.
Today, Chase had a different excuse. He hardly slept the night before. If asked why, he would have replied, "Some girl fell asleep in my arms." He put it down to the awkwardness of the position - his arm had fallen asleep long before he had, taking Cameron's weight – rather than the fact that he'd been smelling Cameron's fruity hair all night.
The speaker was talking about treating autoimmune diseases. Chase wasn't fully listening, but he got that much from the number of times the word was mentioned.
Chase turned his attention to Cameron. While tidily brushed, her hair wasn't anything special this morning. She was tapping every now and then on the arm rest of her chair. She had neat nails, not bitten or too long.
Chase wondering if they could leave at the interval if Cameron learned of her drug by then. A second look at Cameron made him see that she was concentrating about as much as he was. Her eyes were blankly staring in the direction they were supposed to be, but she looked about ready to fall asleep. She was moving her left foot restlessly, and Chase wondered whether it was still hurting. He had offered his knee for Cameron's foot, but she had politely declined.
Chase checked his watch. 27 minutes until they were free.
"Can we go now?" Chase tried hard to keep the whine out of his voice. Cameron seemed to consider this for a moment, then said reluctantly, "Ok."
Chase was pretty sure that she was just as happy to get out of there as he was.
"So did you get the info on that drug?"
If Cameron hadn't had both hands occupied, one would've flown to her mouth.
"I forgot. Should we-"
"No," Chase said firmly. Cameron was hesitating.
"Come on, Cameron," Chase pleased.
"If Cuddy's angry…" Cameron began to hop after him, but more slowly.
"Besides, you weren't listening so closely before. He probably mentioned it already." He glanced back at her, and she was guiltily silent. They walked a way, Chase having to remember to move slowly for Cameron.
"You're pretty good at using those things," he said.
"They're not as hard as I thought."
"You've never used them before?"
Cameron shook her head.
"They're exhausting, though."
"Not lack of sleep?"
"No."
So she slept well. Was that a good sign or a bad sign – Chase didn't know.
But a sign for what?
"Lunch?" Chase suggested, and was met with a shrug and a nod.
"Maybe I'll sit on the aisle this time," Cameron offered.
"Alright." Chase slid in and sat down.
"Is there anything you take for air sickness?" Chase asked her, lifting his feet to make room for her crutches.
"No. I tried a couple, but none of them seemed to work. I just don't eat for about an hour before…it helps a bit."
"You haven't eaten, have you?" Chase checked with her.
"No," she laughed. "Don't worry. I should be fine."
"Should be."
"Should be."
"Do you watch CSI?"
"No time, really," Cameron answered after refusing a packet of dried cranberries.
"You don't seem like a CSI person," he agreed.
"Do you watch?" she asked.
"Nope."
"So you…really wanted to know," she said. "It wasn't just a conversation starter."
"A little of both," Chase admitted. "What do you watch?"
Cameron shrugged. "I don't watch much. I turn on the news if I'm home. My friends often talk about Grey's Anatomy, but I can't watch doctor shows."
"I'm the same. I do watch Scrubs, though, when I can."
Cameron laughed. "I used to love Scrubs! My brother got me into it."
"They say they'll reveal the janitor's name at the end of the series," Chase said excitedly.
"I haven't watched for ages."
Silence.
"Now that's a conversation ender."
"My parents were really good with that stuff," Chase said quietly. The passengers in front of him were sleeping. "At least one of them came to my speech nights."
"My mom came if I was in some ensemble, or won something."
"That'd be every speech night, right?"
Cameron looked startled, but his comment resulted in a smile.
"It wasn't a that common situation," she said modestly, but her grin said she was flattered all the same.
"I bet it was," Chase said, not sure whether to keep pushing the subject or not.
"Stop it, Chase," Cameron said, though not at all sternly. "You always overestimate me."
"I never overestimate you," he countered solemnly, surprised at the intensity that came through. Cameron didn't break his gaze as he stared sincerely at her. A minute passed, or what felt like one. It was like Cameron was searching for something, sorting through Chase to find out exactly what he meant. Sorry, Cameron, but he didn't come with a Chase-English dictionary.
"Good afternoon, passengers," a voice sounded above their heads, causing them to look up, and the moment shattered to pieces around them.
"It's 4:36 in our destination city and approximately 40 degrees."
"Why so cold?" Cameron wanted to know, but Chase thought she wasn't really talking to him.
"Please fasten your seatbelts, we will be landing shortly."
Chase realised he hadn't, throughout the whole of the trip, felt the slightest bit queasy.
