TITLE: Five Indiscretions
PAIRING: canon Chase/Cameron
WARNINGS: sex; spoilers for seasons four
I. Top Secret
It begins as the place where the bottom falls out, where House opens one real door, and ten others slam metaphorically shut. After that day she can't pretend anymore. They can't pretend, because it's one thing to do it all under the guise of mutual fun, but Chase would be a fool to continue in silence now that they're both aware she's blatantly using him.
"Damn," says Chase as the door snaps shut, the sound of House's uneven gait fading down the hall. His shirt hangs limply from his hands like a flag of surrender. For a moment he just stares at it, like he doesn't want to admit to the sinking feeling that seems to have made all the air in the tiny space just a little bit too heavy.
"I don't suppose you'd want to relocate to the stairwell?" asks Cameron, because maybe if she just keeps talking, the cracks in their illusion won't get any bigger.
But Chase shakes his head; apparently even he has limits. "Damn," he repeats, and buttons his shirt unevenly.
"Did you see him at all today?" Cameron asks as Chase appears around the corner. She has her back to the closet door, fingers itching on the handle like a surprise she could pull out at any moment. She isn't sure how or why she's found her way back to this place, but suddenly it feels like a bastion of comfort across from the gaping maw of the dark and empty Diagnostics office.
"No," says Chase a little sourly. He glances at House's empty desk, then turns his back on it and comes to a stop in front of Cameron, effectively obscuring her view of the office. "Thought that was our deal. We wouldn't go and find him until after work the first day?"
"I thought he might've found you," says Cameron carefully, her fingers pressing the handle down a cautious thirty degrees.
"He didn't," Chase says flatly.
And then it's like she's falling backwards, opening the door in a sharp motion that is almost a flinch. Chase steps forward at that exact moment, following her inside like he's been reading her mind all along.
His hands are not quite rough on her shoulders as he sweeps her lab coat to the floor. The door is still unlocked; they are every bit as vulnerable to discovery as before, but for the fact that they've become invisible.
III. 97 Seconds
She stops Chase the moment House has limped back to his games, out of earshot and too far away to observe them anymore. Suddenly the hospital seems much bigger, new hidden corners where there used to be no place free from his influence.
"What?" Chase asks, jumping a little at the touch of her hand on his arm, an instant vulnerability showing through the new indifferent exterior he's worked so hard to cultivate since being back at the hospital.
"That was so hot," Cameron murmurs, pressing him against the wall next to the elevator. It's not quite dinnertime, and the hospital is still full of people, but for the moment this particular corridor is deserted, the possibility of imminent discovery adding to the thrill that shoots from her lips to the pit of her stomach.
"That what you were talking to House about?" he asks, voice tinged with a sharp edge of bitterness as his lips brush her earlobe. His hands move slowly down her back to grasp her hips with the slightest bit of pressure, as if he's subconsciously trying to hold her in this moment. Cameron leans back just far enough to see his eyes, surprised by the possessiveness she finds reflected there.
"Yes," she says firmly, savoring his reaction. His eyes go almost comically wide, only the slight tension-twitch of his lower lip betraying the fact that he isn't about to laugh.
"You—seriously?" he asks.
"Yes," Cameron repeats, grabbing him by the belt loops and shoving him into the newly-arrived and blessedly-empty elevator as a nurse hurries through the corridor. Chase snakes his arm around the small of her back, his other hand coming up to shield the back of her head as he presses her against the elevator wall.
It isn't until the elevator has started to slow toward its destination that Cameron remembers to hit the emergency stop button.
IV. No More Mr. Nice Guy
Chase is skulking behind one of the curtains in the ER when she catches sight of him, obviously watching her. He pretends instantly to be checking a patient's chart when he sees her looking, too much the moping coward to even come over and greet her, she thinks.
"Looking for something?" Cameron asks, sweeping the curtain aside so fast that the scrape of metal on metal makes her want to flinch. "Maybe your sense of tact?"
"Yeah," Chase scoffs, tensing visibly. "That and the box of condoms I bought last week. Thought you might've borrowed them for work."
Her first instinct is to slap him until the smug look is gone and all that's left is the fear and insecurity the rational part of her knows are buried underneath. But she doesn't, because it's the middle of the afternoon and the ER is quiet, leaving her staff little to do but observe the goings-on around them.
Cameron leans in to whisper in his ear, taking a small grain of satisfaction from the fact that he actually flinches a little when she gets too close. "Shut the hell up and come with me right now."
For once he doesn't protest, but it still seems to take an eternity to cross the small space to the empty trauma room off to one side, Chase's footfalls sounding unnaturally loud behind her. The door sounds more like the heavy metal gate of a jail cell to Cameron as she closes it firmly behind them.
"If you ever say anything like that to me again, you will be out of my life so fast you won't know what happened," she says venomously, still forcing the intensity of the words to remain quiet. The last thing she wants is more of their business broadcast around the hospital. "You know I never slept with House. You know I would never sleep with House. I don't know what your problems with him are, but don't bring me into them, especially not in front of his subordinates! Try taking your own advice once in a while. Let it go."
Chase looks at her for a very long moment, then swallows. "So—the answer is no?"
This time she gives in to the temptation of physical violence, throwing him against the wall so hard his back hits it with an audible smack. His hands are already tangled in her hair as she steps closer, pulling her in to kiss her roughly. Cameron pulls away from his mouth after a moment, yanking his shirt to the side until she finds the spot where his neck meets his shoulder and sinking her teeth in until she knows it will leave a mark.
Chase makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, his hands fisting in the back of her scrub top even as he tries to pull it over her head.
"Oh, god," he breathes in a hoarse whisper, his stubble rough against the skin of her neck.
V. House's Head
In the end it becomes a place where they both go to get away. To find each other in the midst of graveyard shifts, and dying patients, and endless games which inevitably sweep them along in the tides of change.
"What are you doing?" Chase asks, though he doesn't look the slightest bit surprised when Cameron's hands go straight for his waistline, finding the drawstrings on his scrub pants and tugging until they come undone. For a moment she wishes she could drag him away, ask him to just come home with her, but tonight the hospital is a monster they don't get to escape yet.
Cameron gives him a look like he's just sprouted a second head. "What do you think I'm doing?"
"Not that," he interrupts again, catching her hands in his to stop their motion for a second. "You're upset. You're using this as a distraction."
"Yeah…" For a moment she just looks at him, lost. She has grown over the past year to understand him in a way that seldom requires words, and it is that unspoken comfort that she needs now. "Isn't that what you do?"
Chase smiles sadly, then nods. "You shouldn't aspire to be like me."
"Why not?" Cameron asks, pulling her hands out of his grasp and shoving his pants down his hips. Chase doesn't protest again, though she still isn't sure she's quite gotten her point across. For the moment, it doesn't matter.
"It works for us," she whispers against his ear. And then she's kissing him, the rest of the world melting away to inconsequential nothing.