Cameron and Foreman were waiting for Chase to return from the bathroom in awkward silence. Foreman had resorted to reading some old magazine for the second time and Cameron mainly tried to keep her thoughts work related. It was the first day of work after the Christmas party and House hadn't shown up yet.
"Am I boring?" Foreman asked out of nowhere, putting away the magazine after several failed attempts to care about reading articles another time.
Cameron snapped out of her thoughts, almost feeling caught as she realized that she had been massaging the back of her neck absentmindedly. "What?"
"Am I boring?" he repeated, shooting Cameron a questioning look.
On the one hand, Cameron could lie and save their friendship; on the other hand, Cameron could tell the truth and endanger their non-existent friendship.
"You're not exactly stimulating," she said, impatiently watching the hallway for Chase's return. This conversation had taken a very strange turn.
Foreman gave no apparent reaction to the answer, and turned to watch the hallway as well. Cameron's conscience slowly started to gnaw at her.
"Some people like a steady basis like that," she offered reluctantly, tapping her fingers on the back of her neck. What the hell was Chase doing? He had better be saving a life or two on the way to the bathroom.
"You don't have to reassure me." He frowned, turning his attention back to Cameron. She looked at his unimpressed features for a moment before going back to watching the hallway.
"House!" she exclaimed, almost sounding eager.
House strode into the room, ignoring Cameron's outburst as he dumped his backpack and threw a file onto the table. "52 year old man…" He trailed off as he watched the blonde leaf through the file enthusiastically. "You've slept with him," he stated, sounding somewhat surprised about it.
Cameron shot him a disgusted look. "That's just unrealistic."
House looked down at the file, then rolled his eyes. "Not him, Chase. Your hair radiates Pantene commercial like you've just spent the entire weekend having hot, steamy—"
"House," she warned sternly, even as memories of a rather interesting shower flooded her mind.
"Shampooing sessions," he finished dryly. Of course he had to take notice of her flushing cheeks as well, but before he could comment on it, someone else had already interrupted him.
"Shampoo?" Chase asked, letting the door behind him fall shut as he joined them. Not a minute too late either. The look on House's face predicted embarrassing questions or metaphors, so Cameron could only forgive Chase for applying the Heimlich on choking kids while she had been stuck with Foreman.
"We were just discussing Cameron's active shampoo life," House explained, quickly scanning Chase for any telltale signs. Cameron rolled her eyes in the background. "She's really been rinsing," he added unnecessarily.
Chase glanced around the room suspiciously. "What?"
"He thinks you and Cameron had sex," Foreman supplied.
"Around…" House took on a thoughtful expression as he studied Chase, making the 'so-so' gesture with his hand. "Right after the Christmas party." Cameron tried not to let her surprise show. She knew that leaving with Chase to go to an after party was a mistake. Though House thinking that she was dating Chase was a lot less bad than him knowing she had been with Thirteen.
Chase frowned at the accusation, but figured out what to say after a quick glance in Cameron's direction. The blonde was glowing, however subtle it was. Up until then, he didn't think people could actually glow, but then maybe it was House's hints that made him think that. Whatever the case, it could only mean she must've had a private party with the janitor. "We went to Lorraine's after party. Cameron went home after, what, half an hour?" He threw a questioning glance in Cameron's direction.
She shrugged, not entirely sure. "Alone," she added quickly. There was no way House could put together the pieces. She never even thought of Thirteen in the man's presence.
House looked at nothing in particular as he contemplated the events. Cameron wouldn't have been glowing if she had a one-night stand, and it was apparent that Chase knew more than he was letting on. But then Cameron didn't have any trace of Chase's aftershave on her. In fact, she smelled very, very—
House did his best to keep his poker face as he came to a conclusion. Quickly deciding on a course of action, he took a step back and elbowed the lamp behind him. The glass shattered as it hit the ground. "Oops," he said dryly, pulling off his best innocent look. Nobody bought it. "Somebody better call maintenance."
Cameron sighed quietly. She should've known that her mere presence would give something away.
"This is useless," Chase said, flipping through yet another file. Both he and Cameron were sitting in diagnostics, going through a pile of folders. "It's the end of the day. Why are we searching for another patient?"
"I'm sure House has a reason for leaving us alone in the same room," she replied, raising her eyebrows meaningfully at him. Earlier that day, Cameron had bravely waited for maintenance and whatever jokes House had up his sleeves, but was pleasantly surprised when Edgar showed up instead of Thirteen. She had been wondering who the guy was after Thirteen told her he had been pestering her about lunch. She had expected Edgar to be an attractive high school dropout, not some middle-aged, married family man. He had been surprisingly friendly and warm during the cleanup and House's obvious disappointment.
"Maybe you should just tell them." Chase dropped the folder he was holding and gave Cameron a pointed look. "For the greater good of the hospital equipment," he added with a smile.
Cameron shook her head and kept skimming over possible symptoms, smiling to herself. "Remy already quit. She'll be gone in three weeks."
"You realize three weeks is all it takes, right?" he asked, mirroring her attitude and going back to searching for a patient. "I'll bet you lunch that he manages to unveil you two after less than a week."
"Coffee," she offered, lowering the bet because odds were they were going to be unveiled in less than a week. Chase smirked but said nothing of it.
"You're on." He threw his file on the discard pile and grabbed another one. "So how are you and Jan doing?"
"Marvelous," Cameron answered distractedly, her attention mostly lost to the folder in her hands.
"Had enough pointless sex yet?" he added in, somehow managing to sound careful and stinging at the same time. If Chase hadn't had the right intentions, she would have snapped at him for being a jerk and stormed off to let him do the rest of the work. As it was, she was perfectly able to ignore his comment.
"No, not yet," she answered plainly. She tilted her head, tapping a pen to her lips as she mulled over the symptoms. She might have to explain a few things if Thirteen was listening, but she'd deal with that later. "Damn, hypothermia," she exclaimed suddenly, throwing her file on the discard pile as well. When she looked up at Chase, he was in the process of stuffing the earplugs of his iPod in his ears. She shrugged and grabbed another file.
A little while into the pointless search, Cameron noticed Chase's head bobbing to the music. She smiled in amusement, watching him out of the corner of her eyes. That was when she noticed a figure in the hallway through the blinds, dragging along a bucket on wheels and a mop. Her attention span decreased exponentially when she saw that it was Thirteen. The brunette wasn't wearing her usual uniform however, looking about ready to head home instead. She was dressed in jeans, and beneath her leather jacket she was wearing an olive turtleneck.
Cameron swallowed, raising the papers she was holding so that they were vertically in front of her, making pretending to be reading the papers much easier. As she pondered the fact that Thirteen sure had a diverse wardrobe, the brunette turned to smile at her, then proceeded to mop up a rather large puddle of spilt coffee. When the coffee had happened, she didn't know, but she was grateful for the distraction.
Cameron found the ordinary act surprisingly fascinating. The way Thirteen moved was so human and yet so coordinated and smooth and the same time. Cameron knew she was staring and enjoying herself way too much when Thirteen's hips started to sway slightly. What took her a moment to realize was that the woman was dancing.
Cameron glanced over at Chase, making sure he wasn't aware of her conspicuous behavior. Sure enough, he was still engrossed in whatever song he was listening to as he leafed through yet another case of what would no doubt be nothing serious.
Her eyes focused on the swaying Thirteen again. She smiled, putting two and two together. "What are you listening to?" she asked Chase. He picked up his iPod and took a look.
"Something something Shanghai." He looked up at Cameron. "It's sort of catchy for a wannabe oriental song with practically no lyrics."
She did her best not to go back to staring at Thirteen, who had started to move rather sensually. "Can I hear?"
"Hold on, it's almost done." He pressed a select button, then handed her the iPod and earplugs. She took the device, and after a little fiddling with the wire, listened to the song. It was indeed as Chase had described. The same sentence was repeated over and over again to some electro-oriental music on the background. It sure explained Thirteen's tantalizing movements.
"It is catchy," she lied smoothly. "Can I listen for it a little longer?"
He shrugged, and she went back to pretending to be engrossed in a file. With audio, it was a lot more interesting to watch Thirteen dance. Cameron felt her cheeks warm at the visual of the brunette's hips moving suggestively, the amused, teasing glint in her eyes not going past her. She was sure that anyone else would look ridiculous if they danced with a mop, of all things. But Thirteen had a way of making simple things look like an art form, and right now, as she brushed the lower half of her torso ever so subtly against the pole, eyes shooting her a look that could only be interpreted as hungry, she really wished that she wasn't stuck there with Chase.
She could make a killing if she taped it and sold it on Ebay.
Cameron looked down at the file she was holding, trying to regain her composure. It was getting increasingly hard to think of mops as unsexy objects after what she just witnessed. Giving up rather soon, she looked up again, only to be sadly disappointed when there was no Thirteen. She didn't have the time to wonder where she went off to so suddenly, because the next moment House was hobbling into diagnostics with a phone in his hands.
Chase looked up from his work, giving House a strange look as he proceeded to call someone. "What are you doing?"
Cameron took out the earplugs and waited eagerly for his answer.
"I'm mowing the lawn. What does it look like I'm doing?" House shot back with a roll of his eyes. "Sorry, wrong number," he said into the phone, hanging up before calling another number.
Cameron jumped slightly when her mobile rang. She reached for her phone thoughtlessly, bringing it out to see that Remy was calling her. Her eyes widened in understanding. She turned her attention to the man to confirm her suspicions. By the way he was grinning and how her cell stopped ringing after he hung up, she could pretty much guess what he was doing.
"Well, AB, looks like you'll need to give our resident GG a lesson in spelling as well as her mobile." House threw over the phone, and Cameron only barely caught it with an unglamorous, jerky motion. She took a look at the screen to see what House was talking about, and saw that her number was indeed labeled as AB. An unprecedented anger bubbled up inside her at the nickname.
Chase frowned in incomprehension, completely oblivious to Cameron's state of mind. "Who?"
"Greek Goddess," he explained, his voice taking on a conspiring tone. "I was going for DS, but I don't want to be sued for sexual harassment."
The phone hitting the table with a loud clang drew their attention back to Cameron. "I don't know where she lives, and I don't ever see her," she said curtly, her anger barely concealed. With the tone she used, she might as well have said she never wanted to see the janitor again.
"It's a good thing her record isn't lying on my desk," he said, already moving for the exit. "In case you do want to not see her," he added, stopping near the door to shoot her an exaggerated wink. After he left, Cameron was left to glare at the cell. Chase fumbled with the file in his hands.
"Do you want to not see her?" he asked somewhat curiously.
"No," she answered after some thought.
"Not even to not resolve this tension that's really not obvious?"
Cameron turned her glare on Chase, who looked down at his papers at the sheer displeasure in her stare. "I thought you were against us?"
"I am," he said simply, flipping a page. "I'm all for you going over there and realizing that she can't even spell your name right because she's not interested in you."
She clenched her jaw, looking down at the mobile. Thirteen hadn't misspelled her name. She had spelled out her blood type perfectly.
I have no idea what Cameron's blood type is. In fact, this (long, boring) chapter wasn't what I had in mind at all. Blame my studies for killing my brain.
Of all the people reading my fic, nobody figured out that I meant Chase was going to make Thirteen dance. LOL. I mean, seriously, have I ever hinted towards Chaseteen? *gag* Anyhow. Anyone fancy an illustration to go with this chapter?
Ps. If I haven't replied to your review, sorry, my inbox is a mess.
Ppss. My beta was ill and I was buried beneath a mountain of papers, tests and other school related cra—stuff.