Title: Showering Together
Episode: Just before "Half-Wit"
Pairing: ChasexCameron
Series: Early Mornings at Home

A/N: Well, I've been wanting to write a series of unrelated ChasexCameron ficlets since the Big Bang, but never got the inspiration to start them. Then (incidentally, in the shower) this fic idea came to me. And it seemed to be a nice way to start. To me, anyway. Do tell me what you think. I don't know what I think of it.

You've been wanting it ever since she turned towards you and you saw her deep, deep eyes.
You've been imagining it ever since she grasped your hand in hers and you felt your stomach twist pleasurably.
And just because you've been imagining it doesn't mean you had any idea what it would be like.

The thing is, you always imagined she'd stay...

You don't know what time it is but you know it's far too early to be awake. A quick glance at the clock through sleep-befuddled eyes confirms this, and you try to get back to sleep, but you are strangely cold. Dimly, you realise the warm weight that was beside you under the thin sheets has gone, and you give an involuntary shiver.

Sitting up slightly, you can see the faint shape of someone in the dark. You rub your eyes, hard, and everything seems to come into focus. Cameron is standing by your chair, in the act of silently reaching for her shirt. where it was unceremoniously dropped last night. She's getting ready to leave before anything gets too intimate - like breakfast together - which is strangely romantic in an odd sort of way, and you catch a glance of her as she turns slightly towards the gap in the curtains.

God, she's beautiful.

She's standing there in her underwear, her hair cascading wildly over her shoulders, not brushed or dried into submission, her alabaster skin almost seeming to glow in a pearly way in the faint half-light and her blue-green eyes that sometimes seem to shine gold are lost in thought as she faces the moon. No artist could paint a more beautiful picture- innocent, yet twisted in a dark way that seems to suggest more behind the skin. No sculpture could sculpt a better goddess, frozen in time, and you feel slightly dizzy.

You swing your legs out of bed and pull on yesterday's boxers, and walk over to her, wincing- your left leg has gone numb. You wrap your arms around her and give her a quick kiss on the neck. This is where you're meant to be, with her wrapped in your arms in the early morning, her scent penetrating into your skin. You've never thought about her scent before, you think, as you inhale from the place where her hair parts deeply. It's deliciously sweet with a sharp sort of aftertaste and a bit of bite.

"Pineapple," you say out loud, and she turns to face you, a wondering expression on her face, and you think that something awful is going to happen to you if you don't kiss her right now.

So you do.

You don't care if she's using you to get her kicks, you think, as you wrap her in your arms in a way that makes you feel big, and important, and very, very lucky. So she wants no-strings-attached sex. Well, you really don't care why she wants it, as you pretty much proved last year. The thought of it makes you cringe very slightly. She just wants a bit of excitement. Maybe she likes you too, a bit. You conveniently forget that she said you were the one she was least likely to fall in love with. You forget, also, that maybe she's using you to get back at House...

But that's the territory that your thoughts wildly refuse to stray into.

Because, you think, as she kisses back, hard, this is what you do it for. The moment where she relaxes in your grip and presses herself against you, hard, and somehow there's nothing else in the world, nothing at all.

And then her pager goes off, and you curse it as she pulls away.

"Work," she says, sounding surprised and a bit annoyed. "As soon as possible. Both of us," she adds, and you don't bother to check yours when you hear the alarm, but trudge towards the shower so you can freshen up a bit.

The water is almost uncomfortably hot and the fastest it can get- exactly the way you like it, and your skin is tinged pink within moments. Raising your face to the spray, you reach for your shampoo and make a lather in your hands. She thinks it's cute, the way you wash your hair twice a day. In reality, it's your insurance policy- to make sure she never, ever stops playing with it. The way she digs her fingers into your scalp so that it's almost painful... It suddenly occurs to you that the label on the bottle says pineapple. She's even found her way into your shower.

You let out a short bark of laughter. You wish.

For a moment, you imagine her behind you, standing shyly against the wall as you rinse off your hair, laughing for some reason, before pressing herself against your back, so you can feel every contour of her figure.

In the mist, it seems very, very real, and you let yourself dream some more.

And then a small, feminine voice says something about the shower being fricking boiling and you turn around and it is real, and you flick yourself in the eye with shampoo by accident and she comes closer to wash it out for you, saying something about loving the smell of shampoo...

and you feel there are cold tiles against your back and Cameron with her arms around you and everything goes hazy for a while...

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