"Allison, do you even like me," Chase asked.
Cameron was stunned into silence, attempting to formulate the right response. "You were a good friend last night," she finally whispered. "Thank you."
Chase closed his eyes. He willed away the ache that welled inside of his chest. Had he expected a shower of yes's and soft kisses?
He had been anything but likeable toward Cameron lately, save last night. He pushed her away the one time she had tried to speak to him about his father. It had annoyed him then - her inherent need to fix all that is wrong and hurtful in the world. But last night…
Chase recalled the lines of defeat on stretched across her forehead – the waves of tremors that shook her body. This morning her face held no reminders of the night before; it was smooth and filled with tentative concern... for him. As if last night had not happen. Selfless.
"You're welcome," Chase said quietly.
Cameron exhaled steadily. She looked at him in the morning light. After hearing her indirect denial, his demeanor had not changed at all, as if she were simply confirming something that he had already guessed. And yet she sensed a subtle disappointment. There was no basis on which she could feel anything more than a tentative camaraderie toward Chase. They had formed the foundations of a friendship near the beginning of their employment: lunches at the pub with Foreman and even the occasional movie… with Foreman. But their friendship fell through as soon as their jobs were in jeopardy. It wasn't until she became frustrated with her relationship with House that Cameron paid attention to her coworker once again - this time as an escape route. Except that was all he had meant to her.
Now, Cameron was not past trying to become friends with Chase, but she was far from liking him.
Eventually, Chase lifted his eyes to Cameron's. "What do you like about House?" he asked.
Cameron smiled sadly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She sat on the edge of the couch next to Chase. She had asked herself the same question almost everyday. There were times when she entertained the thought that he might simply be a pity case; someone to love precisely because he didn't want to be loved. Cameron didn't entertain these thoughts for long. There was more to her attraction to House than the need to care for the wounded – something that she couldn't possibly explain to Chase at the moment, or even herself.
"Tell you what," Cameron said. "When I figure it all out, I'll make sure to let you know."
They sat together in silence for a few moments. The daze was broken by the sudden and persistent beeping of Chase's pager. Chase glanced at the screen of his pager: "You're a disgrace to your country." Cameron and Chase looked at each. Their laughter echoed througought the apartment.
"You can't lie about your diagnosis in your report! What if he goes to another hospital and they discover suspiciously high levels of an antibiotic that doesn't even treat your reported underlying cause?"
"Then you'll have something to feed your pet lawyers," House replied, limping down the hall away from the clinic. Cuddy quickened her pace and rounded on him, blocking his path. Her blue eyes fastened relentlessly on his.
Cuddy: his guardian angel of sorts. She was his side-kick in crime or - more accurately - his maid. Every mess House managed to create, Cuddy never failed to show up – lapdog lawyers at hand – with all the necessary paperwork to cover House's ass. She had known when she hired Dr. Gregory House that he came with legal liability. But then again, Cuddy never deceived herself into believing that hiring House was solely a professional move; it was ultimately an act of guilt; a guilt that bought her a lifetime responsibility for whatever tricks House decided to pull. Nevertheless, the board was unlikely to accept a sense culpability as an excuse for letting him run wild in the hospital.
"One day you're going to lose me my job," she said grimly. And who will protect you then? She shook her head and walked past him toward the elevators.
House stood still, gravely tugging the side of his mouth to one side and thoughtfully looking at the ceiling. A part of him did appreciate her ability to keep the board of his back – a part that would never express said gratitude.
A few moments passed before he realized that there was someone directly in front of him. He brought his gaze downward to find Chase looking at him curiously.
Chase held up his manila folder. "I've figured mine out."
House regarded the folder a few seconds before he took it and brought it down to his side."Goody."
"Aren't you going to test me?"
House smirked and limped past Chase. "Doesn't matter; you weren't the first to figure it out," he called over his shoulder.
Chase's brows knit. It had to be Cameron. Foreman's case was nearly impossible – probably specially created by House. It would be an achievement to finish it at all.
With the thought of Cameron came the urge to ask House exactly what he had done to upset her so much. Chase had decided to not push the issue the night before or that morning. But now he was determined to get an answer from the cause himself.
Chase followed his superior into the office, in search of answers.
Notes: I've clawed my way out of an unexpected hiatus. The other ending to the last chapter will be posted soon; it's slightly graphic and a bit darker than this one.
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