Chapter 6: The Morning After
Hangovers weren't uncommon in Las Vegas. In fact, they were one of the most common things to happen. If a drunk was staggering along by the sidewalk, people would barely give him a look. But doctors with hangovers were uncommon. At least, at Plainsboro Princeton it was. So when Cameron woke up the next morning next to Chase with a splitting headache, and a blurry memory of last night, she felt ashamed, guilty and annoyed. She remembered a few things- leaving House at the dance floor, to run into a few strangers, and have a few drinks with them. Well, at least a few. She groans, rubbing her forehead. Next to her, Chase stirs. She looks at him, images of House flashing in her head. She pushes them aside. As quiet as a mouse, she slides out of bed, making her way to the bathroom.
Her morning routine: splash of water on the face, opening up her pores. She squeezes out a blob of creamy moisturizer and carefully rubs it into her face. Then she chews a stick of mint gum to attack any odours wafting from her mouth.
By the time Chase woke up, he found Cameron in the en-suite, brushing lilac powder onto her eyelids.
"Allie- come back to bed," he says lazily, hooking an arm around her.
"When I've woken up, I can't get back to sleep," she says, matter-of-factly.
"You look awful," he comments, noticing her ruffled hair and smudged eyeliner. "Late night?"
"I may have had a... few drinks." She grabs a wipe from the cabinet, and sets out eradicating any makeup smudges.
"Are you sure we're talking about the same person here?" He asks, laughing.
"Go back to bed," she orders. "You need your beauty sleep."
He lumbers back to the bedroom, and collapses onto the double-bed, snoring. She looks at him, disgusted. I have to end this, now, her conscience tells her. But you're having so much fun, a small part of her argues. And when was the last time you had a drink? You deserve a break. Slowly, doubt creeps into her mind. She ignores her conscience. I will do it, she thinks. Just not now.
House was awoken by a sharp knock at the door. Grumbling, he limps the door. Before he opens the door, he cautiously peers through the eye-hole. Cameron stands outside impatiently, one hand on her hip.
"Just open the door House!" She yells. "I'm not a mugger, don't worry!"
He yanks the door open, and almost forgot to breath. She looked breathtaking, as usual. This morning she had opted to go for the, 'I'm trying to seem casual but I actually put effort into this,' kind of look. At least, that's what he called it. She chose to wear a low cut cream top that matched perfectly with her black pencil skirt, revealing her slim, toned legs.
"You're wearing a skirt?" He asks, one eyebrow raised.
"So? It's not a problem, is it?" She asks him defensively.
"No, it's not..." She could feel the gaze of his eyes wander up and down, and a blush crept onto her cheeks. He slams the door behind him. "Looks like we're alone."
"No, House, I told you- I'm ending this."
He ran a finger down her neck. She bit her lip, blocking the moan that urged to get out.
"Interesting. Your mouth is saying no... But your body is saying yes." He stepped towards her, and whispers in her ear, "You'll give in... I know you will."
She felt his stubble scratch her soft face, and wanted more. And then he was gone, and all she felt was air on her face where he was.
They all agreed to meet in the Lotus hotel's breakfast rooms. As usual, House was a fully thirty minutes late- but they weren't surprised. He appears, wearing a crumpled sky blue shirt. Cameron badly wanted to pull off that shirt, but she says nothing to him as he approaches the table.
"Morning, gang! I hope you had a pleasant night?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively at Foreman.
"Sure, I picked up dem hoes in da hood," he says sarcastically, buttering toast.
"Chase? Where were you? Cameron and I were disappointed when you didn't show?"
"I had a headache. Surprisingly, I wasn't the only one," he says, giving Cameron a glare, who looks embarrassed and looks away. House plonks himself on the empty seat next to Cameron.
"Waitress!" He calls, snapping his fingers. An irritated blonde waitress appears. "Yes, sir? What can I get you?"
"Je voudrais une omelette s'il vous plait," he orders in a thick French accent.
The waitress looks confused. "Umm... What's that?" She asks, looking to Cameron for help.
"He wants an egg omelette," she translates. The waitress nods, and scurries off.
"You speak French?" House asks her.
"I can do a lot of things," she says, smiling seductively. Under the table, her hand gently stroked his leg, sliding up to stroke his inner thigh that sent shudders through his body. She confused him. One minute she refused to be with him, the next she was discretely stroking his leg. He caught her eye- pupils dilated. She hid a smile as she heard his soft moan of pleasure. Fortunately for Chase, the waitress returns with a plate of yellow mush, and bangs it on the table.
"Your omelette, sir," she says with an evil grin, scurrying off before he can comment. House stares down at the plate of golden slop with an air of dislike.
"You expect me... To eat this?"
"Oh, don't be such a baby," says Foreman, chomping his last slice of toast.
"You'd be the same if you had to eat sick!"
Cameron rolls her eyes, and pulls her hand back. A small part of him, is disappointed she stops. "Just eat the omelette, House."
He obeys, but with a scowl on his face, scooping it up carefully with a spoon. He notices Cameron's empty plate.
"Aren't you going to eat anything," he asks.
"Calories," she says, patting her flat stomach.
"Aw, come on babe! You're stick thin- you need to eat," Chase says. She winces at, stick thin.
"Look, I'm going to get you a cupcake. You'll enjoy it," Chase promises, as he leaves for his search of a cupcake.
Five minutes later, he returns with not a cupcake, but a work of art. She gasps. Delicate swirls of soft, sky blue butter cream carefully balance small, sugary pink and blue butterflies.
"Oh, Chase," she breathes, and her eyes light up. "It's...beautiful."
Chase smugly smiles at House, who glowers back at him. With a bow, Chase puts the cupcake on her plate. Cameron smiles adoringly up at him, picking up the cupcake and giving it a lick. Taste explodes in her mouth, the sweetness of the cupcake dancing on her tongue. While she was enjoying heaven on a plate, she began to have second thoughts about being with House. Maybe Chase really is the one for me, she thinks, looking up at his eager face.