Ok, so this is my 2nd fic, so I apologize in advance if it's bad. Please R & R with no flames if you can help it. I appreciate all constructive input and comments!
Don't own any of them (stinks bein me)
Chapter 1: Death wishes
The morning sunlight filtered in through the windows of the diagnostics conference room at PPTH. It shone on the three people who sat facing each other at the table. One was staring at a crossword puzzle, but not actually working at it. Another was perusing a file, but not actually reading it. The third was looking through an article in a medical journal, but actually reading it. All three appeared nervous and their gazes occasionally shifted to the conference room door or to their watches. Anytime now.
"You do it," an Australian accented voice piped up suddenly, his eyes still not looking up from the crossword.
Eric Foreman placed the journal calmly on the table, only his eyes giving away the touch of nervousness that dwelled inside him. "Why can't you do it?"
"Because I don't have a death wish." Robert Chase said simply, finally looking up to meet his co-worker's eyes.
"And you think I do? You tell him. I don't wanna be there when the bomb detonates".
Both men seemed to reach a silent conclusion at that point, and, as one, their heads turned to their female counterpart.
Allison Cameron shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she felt two pairs of eyes on her.
They both stared at her with "Duh" expressions on their faces. "He likes you" Chase said matter-of-factly.
"He doesn't like me." Cameron replied. "You just want me to do your dirty work."
"Cuddy never actually said which one of us had to do it". Chase reminded her.
"She was looking at you when she said it" Foreman said, looking at Chase.
Cameron nodded her head.
"He'll kill me."
"Can't kill the messenger", Cameron said, trying to look on the bright side, if there was one.
"Oh, yes he can", Foreman said.
"And would", Chase finished. "It'd make his day".
"All right, he's gonna be here any minute. Let's just all do it. We can back each other up, and I'm pretty sure all three of us could take him". Cameron negotiated.
"I can live with that", Forman agreed. "Chase, if anything goes wrong, you grab the cane, I'll keep our exits clear."
"What about me?"
"You distract him if need be. Kiss him if you feel the need, it almost worked last time." Foreman had to hide his chuckle.
Cameron rolled her eyes, but thought briefly back to that moment in time. So long ago it seemed. She allowed herself a little smile and then turned serious again as they heard the office door in the next room open and close.
"Crunch time", Chase said, taking a breath and running a hand through his hair.
"Let's get this thing over with", Foreman muttered.
No one moved.
"Count of 3", Chase said quietly.
"1". They pushed their chairs out from the table.
"2". They all took deep breaths.
"2 and a half". Foreman and Cameron looked at him exasperatedly.
"3." They got up as one, and stood rooted to their spots.
"I should really finish this charting first", Cameron said moving towards the pile at the other end of the table.
"I should finish this article," Forman excused himself.
"I…I…should make coffee," Chase moved towards the pot.
He had his hand a few inches from the pot when a voice floated in to them from the next room.
"Chase, if you touch that coffee pot, you're fired!" Chase pulled his hand back as though it had caught fire. "How does he do that?" he mumbled to himself.
The command from the office seemed to bring all three back to reality. There was no use getting around it. They had to tell him sooner or later.
"Let's do it", Forman said with a sigh, taking it upon himself to lead the way, with Cameron behind him, and Chase following her. Forman reached out and put his hand on the doorknob. He turned it, and the three ducklings went in to face the fox.