"How was your day?" Chase after kissing Cameron hello. She had gone to work later then he had, but still managed to get home a few hours before he did.

"It was great," Cameron answered, happily. "You look exhausted," she observed, taking his hand and leading him to their couch to rest.

"I am," he sighed, as he sank into the cushions. He noticed the enticing blend of aromas in the air, "Are you cooking?" he asked hopefully.

"Yep," she answered, "I thought we'd spend a romantic evening at home--much better than a loud, crowded restaurant. I hope that's okay."

"It's perfect!" Chase answered.

She could tell from his expression that he meant what he had said wholeheartedly. "Thank you for my day full of surprises," she said leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

"You're welcome," he replied. "Thank you for the non-American chocolate."

"Spoiled brat," she chided him playfully.

"I have refined taste," he defended himself.

"Uh-huh."

"It applies to my taste in the opposite sex too."

Cameron smiled, "Stop it with the sweet-talking. If I get distracted, I might burn your supper."

"Really?" Chase asked suspiciously, leaning toward her to kiss her again.

She quickly moved in the opposite direction. "Really! Tonight is going to be perfect, so you're not allowed to make me forget there's a roast in the oven," she warned. "Tell you what--since you're so tired, why don't you go take a shower and lie down for a little while."

"You're the most amazing wife ever," Chase gushed, thrilled that she cared more about spending time together than about where they spent time together.

"And don't you forget it."

"I need to talk to you about something though," he said. There were only two ways this conversation could go: she would be pleased of she would be angry. If there was going to be an explosion, he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

"It'll wait."

"I don't want it to ruin dinner."

"Trust me, Chase, nothing will ruin our dinner tonight!" She hopped off the couch and pulled him to his feet. "Go shower!"

"I'm serious, Allison," he implored her to give him a chance to explain.

Her expression fell as she started to worry what could be so serious. "What is it?" she asked, sitting back down.

He also returned to the couch. "House offered me a job as an attending," he announced. He was disappointed to see anger flash through her eyes.

"Why would you leave a position as department head to work for him?" she asked bitterly.

He frowned. This reaction was what he had feared--having to explain to her why he was interested in the job. He sighed, weighing whether he should give her a long explanation or the condensed version. "I'm bored." He went for concise, knowing he was too tired to express himself well.

Cameron stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "You were happy."

"At first, but it's boring. I miss the challenge of those cases that no one else can solve."

"You're a lot like him, you know," she said, her tone difficult for Chase to determine.

He waited for her to expound on her statement. Being compared to House was not necessarily a compliment, so he was hesitant to say anything, lest he make her angry.

"You like the puzzle. You like the chase."

"Yeah," he admitted. He did enjoy the puzzle, but he also cared about the patients.

"How much of a pay cut are we talking about?" she asked.

It surprised him that she was concerned about financial matters since they both had lucrative positions. "None. Same salary, plus a signing bonus."

"How the hell do they justify an attending getting a department head's salary?"

"You know House has Cuddy bending over backward to approve whatever he wants."

Cameron looked down, considering the situation. "I like our life, Chase," she told him. "I like working in the ER and coming home to you."

He nodded, "I'll tell him no." He started to get up, but she stopped him.

"No," Cameron said. "I want you to be happy too. You're not going to be happy if you're bored. I knew when I married you that you've got a restless mind. You need something to challenge you and surgery isn't doing it." She considered the past few weeks. She had started to worry about how weary he seemed when he came home from work. She chalked it up to the demanding precision required of surgeons coupled with the stress of his new position as the person in charge. She looked a little disappointed as she said it, but still told him, "You should take the job."

He looked up, "You mean it?"

She took his hand in her own. The glint of excitement in his expression told her all she needed to know. "We'll still have our life. Maybe we'll even get to spend more time together since you won't have early surgeries or as much paperwork to do." She moved closer to him to give him a hug. "In fact, our life is only going to get better," she promised. "I want you to be happy and if that means working for that arrogant bastard, go for it."

"Thank you," Chase returned her hug.

"Now get lost so I can finish making dinner," Cameron ordered.

"You are the best, the absolute best," Chase told her.

"I know."

XOXOXOX

While she prepared for their dinner, Cameron pondered the significance of the date. It had been exactly one year since she had propositioned Chase as they were leaving the hospital. If someone would have told her a year ago that the two of them would be married by the time the next Valentine's Day rolled around, she would have laughed in their face.

She scowled, thinking of her former self. She had been so wrong about Chase and about herself. She could never have carried on a sexual relationship with someone she did not care about. The only person she had been fooling was herself.

If she believed in the same God as her husband, she might have been tempted to thank Him for the wake up call she got when faced with the prospect of losing Chase. Maybe, she considered, she should have thanked House instead since he was the one who fired Chase, forcing her to realize that she could not bear the idea of not seeing him again. It was House's fault that she had gone after Chase that fateful day. The only thing she had been certain of at the time was that she was not ready to let Chase go. She was willing to try for "more," whatever "more" meant.

Chase was different from any other man she had known. She had treated him terribly, but he had fallen for her anyway and that was still mystery to her. She paused as she set the table. Maybe Chase had some kind of gift for reading people, seeing what they could be instead of what they were. He had brought out a playful side of her even before they were serious. He had broken through walls she erected after Michael's death and she had found herself genuinely enjoying his company and feeling light-hearted. At the most basic level, he had made her happy--whether she wanted him to or not; and that was exactly why she had gotten so angry when he admitted he wanted more. Oh, she knew already. But as long as he had kept it to himself, she could enjoy him and the way he made her feel without the pressure of a real relationship, without letting herself fall into the cataclysm of loving someone when it might all come to a crashing halt. She never wanted to go through that kind of upheaval again.

Looking back, she was disgusted with herself for starting such a vicious game without any respect for his feelings. Tears sprung to her eyes as guilt washed over her. The man she had gotten to know when she let her guard down deserved so much better than that. It pained her that Chase had never seemed to realize he deserved better. She was startled by her own tears as they slipped down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Chase asked, rushing to her side. He had come out of the bedroom just in time to see her wipe her eyes. "If you don't want me to take the job--"

"It's not that," she answered him, enveloping him in a crushing hug. She breathed in the soothing clean scent of his soap. She held him tightly for at least a minute before pulling away and speaking of what was heavy on her heart. "I was just thinking about last Valentine's Day."

He looked down, but she still saw hurt dancing in his eyes. "Oh," he met her gaze again with a plastic smile. Approximating coy, but not quite reaching it, he asked, "Sorry you made that deal?"

"Yes," she answered. It pained her that he was trying to deflect with a joke, but his own hurt still came through.

He did not know how to respond, so he was quiet.

"It was thoughtless… mean… insensitive."

He shrugged, "I went along with it." He reached out to her, running his fingers through the long waves of her hair. "Besides, it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

"I wish we had gotten here by a different path," she admitted, sitting down in one of the chairs.

He joined her at the table, "What matters is we got here."

She blinked back more tears, staring at the silver box wrapped in red ribbons that Chase must have set on the table when he returned from the bedroom.

"So, we had a rocky start," Chase said. "I think that's a good thing."

She looked up, curious about why he would think such a thing.

He stroked her cheek, noticing light reflect from his wedding band like a twinkling star, "We've already been through something bad. We've already been through hurting each other and sniping at each other and coming to our senses. But we didn't give up on each other. Don't you know how amazing that is? Most couples start off with the hearts and flowers and chocolate and end with the hurting and fighting. We already brought out the worst in each other and decided we could live with it. We'll keep getting stronger," he promised, closing the distance between them to kiss her softly. "I wouldn't change a thing."

"I love the way your mind works," Cameron sniffed.

"Don't cry," Chase plead.

"I can't help it," Cameron wailed, overcome by her emotions. "I never want to hurt you again."

"But you will," Chase said. "And I'll hurt you too. And we'll work it out." He used the red linen napkin that she had placed at his plate to wipe her cheeks. Distressed by how upset she had become, he reacted in desperation, reaching for his empty plate. He held it in front of his face and started singing, "If I found a lucky penny I'd toss it across the bay, Your love is worth all the gold on earth, No wonder that I say, Come on and be my little good luck charm, Uh-huh huh, you sweet delight, I want a good luck charm, A-hanging on my arm, To have, to have, to hold, to hold tonight."

Cameron's tears disappeared as Elvis's face covered her husband's. She had rarely heard Chase sing. Sometimes she caught him crooning a word or two while the radio was on in the car, but he had never serenaded her.

He peaked around the edge of the plate to see his wife smiling back at him. "Feel better?" he asked, mildly embarrassed that he had resorted to singing to cheer her.

"I'm so glad I decided to use the good china tonight," she deadpanned, taking the plate from his hand to set it back on the table. They had more traditional dinnerware that they typically used with their meals, but when one or the other was in the mood to be playful, they used the Elvis set. Chase had initiated the tradition in early December. He had gotten off work before Cameron one day, ordered a special meal from a local French restaurant, and set the table with candles and roses. On a whim, he had decided to wash the those plates just because he thought it would be funny if Cameron found Elvis under her Emincé de Volaille sauce Roquefort. She had loved the idea and they took turns surprising each other with the "special" plates.

"I just hope you want to stay married after that little concert," he grinned sheepishly.

"I love your voice," she assured him, pulling him close to give him a long, slow kiss.

They were both startled when their smoke alarm started beeping. They broke their kiss and dashed to the kitchen where smoke was coming from the stove.

"No!" Cameron cried, pulling the oven door so hard that it fell open with a bang. She grabbed two potholders and reached into the oven to pull out a smoldering roast. She and Chase both started coughing as smoke filled the air. Cameron turned on the vent above the stove in an effort to contain it while Chase opened the window above the sink and started fanning the smoke toward the window with a hand towel, hoping to keep from setting off the sprinkler system. The whole time, the emergency sensor blared.

It took a few minutes, but they were able to get most of the smoke out of the room. A thin haze remained throughout their kitchen. Chase pressed several buttons on the smoke alarm, trying to get it to stop beeping, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, in frustration, he ripped it off the wall and took out the battery. "Shut up!" he growled at the offending piece.

Meanwhile, Cameron tried to assess the damage to their meal. The top of the roast was as black as charcoal and what was supposed to be a rich gravy with vegetables was now a crusty, blackened, clumpy mess at that bottom of the dish. There was no doubt about it--it was ruined.

After taking care of the alarm, Chase came to his wife's side and took in the sight of the scorched roast. "Well," he started dryly, "That's certainly a hunk, a hunk of burning beef." His lips curled into a smile as soon as he said it and he started laughing. Maybe he was still overly tired, but he found it hysterical.

Cameron was not quite as amused. She started crying again. Loudly. She ran from the kitchen, into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

"Honey!" Chase called, following her, only to have the door shut in his face. "I'm sorry!" he told her through the locked door. "I was trying to make you laugh," he explained, knocking on the door and jiggling the knob uselessly. "Cam--Allison, please, let me in!" He waited a few seconds. "Please!" There was no response. "Allison?" He pressed his ear to the door and could tell she was still crying. I'm sorry," he repeated pitifully. "Please let me in." He stood there silently for a minute. "I'm sorry," he said again, sounding desperate. "I love you," he added.

A few seconds later, the door opened and he saw his wife standing there, her make-up streaked from tears and her hair a mess. He could tell from the rumpled comforter and pillows that she had been lying on the bed while she was crying. "I ruined our Valentine's," she sniffed. "It was supposed to be perfect."

"It's not ruined," he told her, taking her into his arms for a hug. "It's not ruined at all!"

"That roast looks about as appetizing as a… a…" she pulled away as she searched for an appropriate comparison. "A clump of asphalt."

"That doesn't mean it's not edible," Chase said hopefully, his eyes bright with optimism.

Cameron was certain at that moment that if she had served Chase the roast he would have choked it down and told her it was the best thing he had ever eaten just because he loved her. Needless to say, a fresh round of wailing followed as she latched onto him.

At this, Chase sighed, his brow furrowing with worry. He led Cameron to the bed to sit down. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asked. "You've cried more today than you have in the entire time we've been married. This isn't like you," he told her, distressed.

"I wanted everything to be perfect," she repeated. "It just had to be perfect tonight. You liked my mom's pot roast so much when we went home for Christmas, that I wanted to make it for you. I called and got her recipe to surprise you. The stupid thing wasn't getting ready, so I turned the oven up to four hundred twenty five degrees. I thought it would cook faster that way. I didn't know it would burn."

"I think it's really sweet that you wanted to do that for me," Chase assured her, rubbing her back. "It's not a big deal that it burned. I promise. It means more to me that you tried to do something so nice."

She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as he kept stroking her back comfortingly.

"Are you okay?" Chase asked, his concern evident in his tone. "You're so sad today."

"No, I'm not," Cameron argued. "This is the best day of my life."

Chase looked down at her tear-streaked face. "Okay, now you're really confusing me," he said with a half-hearted laugh.

She sighed, wiping her eyes. "Hold on a sec," she said. She got up and left the bedroom for just a moment, returning with the box Chase had left on the table and an additional box that he had never seen before. "Let's open our gifts," she said. "We may have to heat up some Spaghettios for our supper, but we can at least open our presents, right?"

"You first," he said, offering her the silver box.

"Okay," she agreed, tearing off the paper. She knew from the shape of the box that it was jewelry, probably a necklace. Her suspicion was almost accurate. She gasp as she opened the narrow box to find a ruby and diamond bracelet in twenty-four karat gold. "It's gorgeous," she said, taking in the quality of the gems. There were no tiny diamond fragments set in silver to simulate the appearance of larger stones. These were substantial enough that they did not need enhancement. "Wow," she said. "This must have cost a fortune." Every once in a while, she was given a reminder that Chase had grown up in a wealthy family. She credited that background with his ability to choose exquisite jewelry. She would never rile him for liking fine chocolates again. The man had good taste.

He helped her snap the clasp on the bracelet and she admired the way it looked on her tiny wrist. "It's fantastic," she gushed. "Thank you." She gave him a kiss. She then reached for the box containing his present and handed it to him. "Your turn."

Chase smiled, eagerly tearing away the red paper and white ribbon. He opened the box and lifted the pink tissue paper. He saw a mint green cloth, but was not sure what it was just from looking at it in the box. He lifted it and let it unfurl. His mouth fell open. He was holding a tiny onesie. The front had a baby koala clinging its parent and the text, I Love My Daddy.

He was speechless. His mouth was open, but nothing came out. His eyes started to burn with prickling tears and he found it hard to look away from the koalas. I Love My Daddy, he read again and again. He finally made eye contact with Cameron. His expression must have conveyed his question because she nodded in the affirmative.

"Daddy?" he asked, his mind stuck on the word.

"That's you," Cameron told him, beaming with happiness.

"That's me?" He was almost afraid to believe it. The family he had craved was finally within his reach.

She nodded.

"I think it's my turn to cry," he admitted, feeling his eyes water. He wrapped his arms around her. "I didn't know it was possible to be this happy," he whispered in her ear. "Thank you so much."

"I love you," she told him, holding him tightly. She loved the way their bodies fit together, like pieces of a puzzle completing each other. Just having him close to her made her feel safe, warm, and loved.

"I love you too," he said. "Mummy."

"Mommy," she corrected him.

"We're not very good with names, are we?" he laughed, pulling away to study her face. She had never appeared more beautiful.

"It's a good thing we've got eight more months to decide on one for this one," she said, patting her stomach.

Hesitantly, Chase reached out to put his hand on her abdomen too. "Wow," he thought about the fact that there was a baby in there--his and Cameron's baby. "Wow."

"You said that already."

He shrugged, "It fits."

"Are you really happy?" Cameron asked. She knew the idea of having a baby was what inspired them to go to Vegas in the first place, but talking about babies was a lot different than actually facing the reality of having one. They had heard that it was better to take some time to enjoy being newlyweds before starting a family, but they were also fighting against the clock if they wanted to get one child out of diapers and have another before she turned forty.

"I'm the happiest man in the world," he assured her. "What about you?"

"I'm… overjoyed," she said. "I love you, Robert Chase. I love being your wife. I love our baby. I'm," she closed her eyes, savoring the moment, "I'm so happy." The words may have been simple, but they were real.

"How long have you known?" he asked her, wondering how she had managed to keep the secret.

"Officially? About nine hours. I took a home test this morning and it was positive, so I got Dr. Sutton to work me in today to make sure. I took the rest of the day off so I could make everything perfect to tell you," she sighed. "Obviously, that didn't work, but, anyway, here we are.

"It's perfect, just like this," Chase told her, holding up the onesie again. "We'll never forget this Valentine's Day."

"So, you want some Spaghettios?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Just let me heat them."

"Did you hear your daddy insulting my cooking skills?" she asked, patting her stomach. "You're going to pay for that," she warned, tackling him so that he was on his back.

He rolled them over so that he was on top. "Oh, really?" he asked. "And how exactly are you going to make me pay for that, Mummy?"

They forgot all about dinner.

The End... For Now

AN: I hope you enjoyed this. If there's interest in it, I may continue this holiday themed series.