This is my first House fic, but it's been a long time since I've written my first story, so hopefully this won't be too bad.
Summary: Cameron-centric, with some Chase/Cameron. Lots of references to "Hunting" so, even if you haven't seen it yet, look it up or go on In one Chase/Cam music video, they will use that particular scene so many times. Not that I blame them. Jesse Spencer is one good lookin' man, especially sans shirt. ;-P
Rating: "T" for teen. I think that's how I base all my stories, anymore.
Disclaimer: Back off. Fox owns House. If they didn't, I would have written in much more tension between a certain would-be couple.
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Allison Cameron didn't blame herself for the one-night stand with her co-worker. Oh, she blamed herself for worrying too much when she had thought she had contracted the HIV strain, and she blamed herself for using crystal meth in hopes of "taking the edge off".
But she didn't blame herself for the sex. That was the methamphetamine's fault entirely.
Of course, she's wasn't quite sure who to blame in the weeks following. Chase had been nothing if not gentlemanly towards her after… the incident.
That didn't stop her from thinking about it, late at night in her apartment.
For once she had been the forward one. She had influenced him. When high, she finally felt the surge of dominance, something she had never experienced before. Which wasn't to say Chase wasn't willing and able to play along, but having the power to coerce him into… Well, suffice to say, it was exhilarating.
She hadn't forgot it. She still felt it, even. Him, to be more exact. The taste of his skin when she kissed the hollow of his collarbone. The press of his lips under hers. The feel of him. It was a wonder she hadn't gone insane by now.
She thought back to what Chase had told her. He was right. The sex hadn't sucked. In fact, it'd been the best night she'd had in a long time. Granted, she hadn't had a lot of sex to compare it to, but it was still very good sex.
It was yet another night Cameron was stuck awake, unable to sleep. It was then her personal demons would rear their ugly heads.
One of her subconscious' favorites was Robert Chase. Cameron was a full-grown woman, with needs and urges of her own. And it appeared her mind liked to remind her of that fact, now and again.
She'd be a liar if she didn't admit Chase was one handsome doctor. He probably could have been a model. The Aussie accent only enhanced his luck with the ladies. No woman could resist that charm, along with his knockout smile.
Of course, that hadn't meant Cameron needed to get high and spend a night of raunchy sex with him.
Worse, when he assured her nothing good would come of trying to work things out, she'd agreed with him. She didn't argue or try to convince him to rethink things- they were pretty decent friends, and close coworkers, nothing good would come of ignoring everything. No, she was too embarrassed with what she had done to do anything but agree.
It was then, on these lonely nights, Allison Cameron came to a sudden realization. From calling Chase to her apartment to remaining silent when Chase told to her it would be best to ignore for them to ignore that night's antics, everything. It was all Cameron's fault. She was to blame. She fretted too much when she thought she had HIV. She took meth to forget about it. She even called Chase and slept with him for the exact same reason.
This… 'realization' was the only reason Cameron could gain to why she chose on one of these particular nights to get up, change, and drive.
When she finally does arrive, later than ever, she tries to collect the jumbled mess that is currently her mind as the elevator begins its painfully slow ascent. Nothing comes to her as what to say, so she barrels on, utterly empty headed, once the elevator doors open.
She almost wonders if she's gotten the address right, and what could happen if it's wrong, but she walks up to the door. She knocks, and only then does it occur to her what time it is and how inconvenient the time in which she finally chose to act. She's about to turn and head back to the elevator when she hears a crash from inside the room.
There is a noise afterwards that could only be a man cursing, followed by a second crash. The door swings open, and Allison Cameron now faces a very aggravated Robert Chase.
"Cameron!" she hears him ask, obviously incredulous. "Why-Why are you here?" From the look on his face, he is no doubt checking her pupils to see if she is on another meth trip.
She doesn't care. She has enough control to know better than to pull another one over Chase, but she's lost the ability to give a damn.
She kisses him, pushing him into- something. He's awake now. He pushes her away, and she's once again reminded of the fateful methamphetamine trip.
"Cam- not again," he murmurs, shaking her a little by the shoulders.
"I'm not high," she snaps. She manages to press him up against the wall. It's then she notices he's only in boxers, and how dangerous this is becoming. "I made a mistake. I was to blame. I shouldn't have let you dismiss what happened."
He's silent, almost glaring. "And you needed to kiss me in order to tell me that?" The incredulity was evident in his voice.
She met his eyes defiantly. "I thought it would get your attention. Was I wrong?" She can't stop herself from smirking a little at their current position.
He ignores her question, answering it with a question of his own. "So what? You want to make getting high and having sex with me a permanent thing?"
She blushes; she can't help it. "I was thinking something on lines of coffee… Unless you'd prefer to high."
He smirks. "Coffee'd be good."
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Alright, this is erratic, makes no sense… If I post this on House, I'm obviously prepared for the "What the hell?"s and the "whut R u talkin bout?"s.
Flame me. See if I give a damn.
