DISCLAIMER: I don't own House. But I do watch it religiously.

Set during 'All In' (season 2, episode 17); Casino Night fundraising event for PPTH.

Time for a Kiss

Cameron swirled the liquid in her glass around disinterestedly and Foreman sipped at the amber drink in his glass with just as much gusto. The general chink of glasses and hubbub of conversation surrounded them in a whirl of boring mixes of formal tuxes and frivolous dresses and poker games that held no interest in them. Cameron downed her drink, intending to leave, but Foreman grabbed her arm as she made to get up.


"Look at Chase," he said, nodding at the Australian, who was at the other end of the bar. Cameron turned to face the intensivist, but couldn't really see him. His face was just about visible amongst the crowd of impressively dressed women that surrounded him, apparently fascinated with something he was saying. A few of them were giggling as he shamelessly flirted with all of them, a charming smile tilting his lips and his blue eyes sparkling more than ever. Cameron looked back at Foreman and rolled her eyes.

"He's having fun," Foreman commented, as one of the women threw back her head in a loud laugh at something that Chase had said.

"It's Casino Night; there're no cases and everyone's here to have a good time. We're meant to have fun," Cameron said in a clipped tone, reaching for her handbag.

"We're not having fun," Foreman told her. He looked to Chase again, nothing in his expression betraying what he was thinking as he watched one of his colleagues sweet-talk beautiful women. "How about we make this night more fun?"

Cameron reluctantly followed Foreman's line of vision – back to Chase. She clicked her tongue softly a couple of times to hint at her disapproval of Chase's company. "What are you proposing?"

"A bet."

"I'm not playing poker with you, if that's what you want to bet on."

"No, no; I mean we bet on Chase."

Cameron considered it for a moment, then sat back down. Foreman was grinning.

"What do you have in mind?"

Meanwhile, Chase was having a particularly animated chat with a few of the prettier women around him. One kept tugging on his sleeve suggestively, and he enjoyed playing ignorant to her obvious hints that she wanted to go somewhere more private with him. At the back of his mind, he was aware that Foreman and Cameron were watching him; a flare up of smugness bloomed in his chest as he thought of how jealous Foreman would be, and he was just plain happy that Cameron was looking on, too. Sweeping back a few stray strands of his blond hair, Chase smiled a glittering smile and got back into the conversation.

"So, yeah, there was this really severely injured young boy – around seven years old – who had just come into the ER when I was on duty. Massive trauma to the head and internal haemorrhaging –"

"What's that, Doctor Chase?" the sleeve-tugging woman queried, blinking her huge dark eyes and, coincidentally, tugging on his sleeve again.

"That's when you bleed on your insides," said Chase, feeling a lot cleverer than he usually felt. Using medical terms to a non-medically-educated audience always made him feel cleverer. "Anyway, this boy had suffered a lot of head injuries and was barely alive when I first saw him." The women all gasped dramatically, as if they didn't know that people were usually dying – or worse – when they were admitted into a hospital emergency ward. "There was blood everywhere, on his shirt, on the bed, dripping down his neck –"

The women collectively gasped and shuddered again. "That sounds so horrible, Doctor Chase," one of them said sincerely. "How do you do it?"

Though slightly put off by the fact that he couldn't tell his story about how he saved the seven-year-old-bleeding-on-the-insides-boy, Chase relished the idea of pouring out his daily wears and tears of being a great doctor.

"It's not easy," he said, shaking his head a bit to sound more serious, "but if you want to save lives, to make a difference, you've got to be prepared." The women all nodded understandingly. Chase leaned against the bar, making sure that he was in plain view of Cameron (and Foreman), who wasn't even looking at him, now. He refrained from pouting and ploughed on with his weary narrative of his harsh life. "You're gonna have to work long, hard hours to make sure you get round to healing as many people as possible – and if not all of them make it, you have to accept the fact that some of them die and you can't always help it." He was sure to raise his voice slightly at these compassionate, moving words – Cameron would approve.

"Wow…" one of the girls muttered in awe. Well, if Cameron hadn't heard, these women obviously had.

Chase heaved a sigh. "That's the burden of being a doctor; you have to be prepared for the inevitable, as well as for surprises. And you always have to be in control; without control, you can't function and save more lives. And if you're not prepared, you are not in control. That's what it takes to –"


Chase felt a hand tapping him from behind, following the familiar voice. He turned as Cameron reached out for his face and pulled his open mouth down to hers for a full-blown kiss. His eyes widened uncomprehendingly as her tongue slid past his lips and her mouth worked furiously against his – he barely registered that he was kissing Cameron – Allison Cameron – before she pulled away from him, skin flushed and lipstick smudged. He stared at her, dumbfounded. She bit her lip in an apologetic gesture, then pecked his mouth sweetly and flashed him a little smile, whilst stroking his cheek with the hand that had gripped his head so forcefully just moments before.

Letting go of Chase, Cameron brushed past all the equally struck-dumb women, head held high and lofty…and happy. Foreman ogled at her as she came to stand in front of him and as she held her hand out.

"You lose the bet; Chase did get kissed by a woman before 10:20 tonight," said Cameron, a blush creeping up her neck. "And since you didn't specify who it had to be…I think you owe me fifty bucks."

Foreman was still ogling. The women around Chase were muttering angrily, cursing Cameron's name and trying to jerk Chase out of his reverie. Foreman pushed a few notes into Cameron's hand and let out a bark of laughter, revelling at her audacity. Grinning, he made his way over to Chase - who was still watching Cameron with gaping eyes - and slapped his back.

"'If you're not prepared, you're not in control,'" Foreman quoted with a smile. "Guess you weren't in control of that one, then, were you?"

Chase glanced at his watch: 10:18pm. If the bet still applied 'til 10:20, then there was plenty of time for more things to happen. He made his way over to Cameron, ignoring everyone else. She looked up at him in surprise, unprepared and slightly embarrassed to be facing him so soon. He smiled; now, he was in control. 10:19pm…

There had never been a better time for a kiss.

A.N. I'm not a very fluffy person (in fact, not at all), so that was something completely different for me to write. Sorry if it sucked.

For all my readers of 'Q is for Quarantine' – I'm sorry for not updating again, but my muse for that story has gone walkabout and has not come back. I'm currently aiming to finish the twelfth chapter soon.

Drop me a review and tell me what you thought; as well as never having written fluff, this is only my second oneshot. Another thing I'm new at.

Thanks for reading!