Cameron sighed, switching off the television that had been running for far too long already. Putting the remote down, she walked over to the small dining table, looking at the remains of the flowers that had sat, untouched, since she had come home. She was sure they had been full of life, vibrant, and beautiful at some point, not that she could remember. Wilted petals lay here and there, the stems of the flowers browning and crumpling away like old paper.
Picking up the vase, she brought it over to the kitchen, draining the residual water before pulling out the flowers and holding them over the trash. It felt wrong, like she was throwing away the belongings of another person. She had started to think of the Cameron from those months as another person, and not as herself. She had used to think they would be some sort of key, that keeping them with her would suddenly return a memory of receiving them. That she would know what he was wearing that day, what he said when he handed them over. How she felt. She opened her hand, watching them fall into the bin. She had to accept that that just wasn't going to happen.
A knock at the door. She carried the vase back to the table hastily, trying to keep the wet glass from slipping through her fingers, before rushing to the door. Fidgeting with the locks, she managed to pull it open... and there he was. Standing in front of her door like nothing had happened at all. She scanned his face, most evidence of the incident hardly detectable anymore, only the faint hint of bruising along his jawline. He was wearing a fresh suit, not a single misplaced wrinkle in sight.
"Hey," she said in surprise, quickly brushing a lock of hair out of her face. "You're back."
He nodded. "Indeed I am."
She gestured her head at the outfit. "Nice clothes. Not the same ones as that night, I'm assuming."
He smirked at the thought. "Nah. I managed to goad Foreman into picking them up for me."
She smiled disbelievingly. "Right."
He shrugged, giving in. "Okay, Cuddy might have... gently persuaded him to. Mind if I come in?"
She shook her head, stepping out of the way. "No, not at all."
He sat on the couch, sprawling out as if he had done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had. "You know, I've been thinking."
She closed the door before walking over. "Hm?"
"About the future. Do you think we might have a future together?"
She sat on one of the armrests, facing inward. "Kind of a loaded question, isn't it?"
He shrugged. "I suppose, yeah. After all, to you, we've been dating a week and a half. 'Dating', even," he said, adding finger quotations. "But, give or take seven months..."
"Yeah. Yeah, I get it." She looked away, lips pressed together. She had made the right decision, hadn't she? Very soon there would be a point of no return.
"Doesn't even have to be marriage, at least not yet." He nudged her leg gently, and she looked back at him. "I didn't get all dressed up so we could sit around. Get yourself dressed. I made a reservation."
"Right now?" she asked, hopping off the couch frantically.
He looked at his watch. "Well, about half an hour from now."
She rushed into the bedroom, practically throwing her closet apart looking for an outfit. "And why didn't you say anything earlier?"
He was laughing. Laughing? They were going to be late. He walked up into the doorway. "Because I wanted to see if you would react the same way as you did the first time."
She froze, a shirt going limp in her grasp. She rolled her eyes, trying to maintain an annoyed facade, but a smile gave away the fact that she found it amusing as well. "I am not a toy, Chase."
"No," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You are so, so much better."
"Right," she said, nudging him back. "Get out of here so I can change."
Reluctantly, he stepped back into the hall. "I know what you look like," he said with a devilish smirk as she shut the door in his face.
"Stop trying to be House," she said, unhooking a dress from a hanger. "Also, I know what you look like too."
"Thought you were too strung out for that," she heard his voice say from behind the door.
She took off her clothes, throwing them to the side carelessly. "Who could forget someone like you?"
He imitated the sound of being wounded. "Now that one hurt."
She pulled on the dress, rolling her eyes. "At my own expense." She tried to feel for the zipper, tugging it up only a few inches before getting stuck. These things were always a hassle. "Chase, help me with this zipper."
"Can't go in there. Doctor's orders."
"Just get-" she started, but his hands were already there, pulling the zipper up flawlessly.
"You look beautiful," he said, eyes shining with wonder as she turned around to look at him.
She smirked, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek before slipping out the door. "Come on. Can't be late to our first date." As he followed her into the living room, a smile lighting up his eyes, she turned to face him. "By the way, the crib was a nice touch."
The smile faltered. "Crib?' He looked to the wall, and there was the box, leaning against it. "I didn't buy..."
Their eyes met with sudden realization.
"Do you think..." she started.
He nodded. "Couldn't have been anyone else."
She laughed, wrapping her arms around him. "Should we thank him?"
Chase shook his head, guiding her out the door. "Nah. He'd play it off, pretend it was someone else." He smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind an ear. "And plus, we don't need to worry about House for a while. We've got a few months to kill, I'd rather we spent them on us."
Without any objections, they walked out of the building, eager to rebuild what had been broken.