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They were all sitting at a table in the cafeteria, Foreman poking at his salad, House stealing things off of Chase's plate, and Cameron cutting her sandwich in two. They never ate lunch like this. The case was looking so dire that they were exhausted enough not to care.
But nobody was speaking, everyone just staring absentmindedly at their food — waiting for someone else to make the first attempt at breaking the ice. Unsurprisingly, this was done so by the man himself.
"So," House started, taking another french fry from Chase's plate. "What haven't we done?"
More silence. The three fellows turned their gazes to him, turning hard into glares.
"Can we talk about anything other than this damn case?" Chase countered.
House looked between the three of them.
"See how the other two aren't saying anything? They don't agree with you," House shook his head, poking the french fry into his mouth.
"That's not why —"
"And exactly why we need to put our mushy brains together and figure out what's actually going on," House started. By this point, Chase had started to zone out. He was too overloaded with thoughts of the day that was only halfway done.
He'd gotten into an argument with Cameron earlier. They weren't immune to arguing, but sometimes he wondered if she did it just to get a rise out of him. He'd slip up on something, forget to do something mildly important. Cameron would materialize out of thin air to harp on him.
She didn't do that to Foreman.
They weren't exactly on speaking terms either. For different reasons, though.
Cameron looked pissed. She was sitting across the table from Chase, starting outward of the table in front of them. She had every right to be mad — she'd figured out something earlier in the day that House had waved off as stupid. And then she was right.
She'd been seeing red all day beyond that — having to deal with Chase and Foreman was also enough torture for her. She felt trapped in a revolving door of idiots — and she desperately wanted to break the glass and leave this vicious cycle.
House tapped his cane on the table, bringing all three of them back down to earth.
"Jeez, you guys look awful. Seems like a great time to run some more tests. Foreman — we're going to go get a consult from oncology. Chase and Cameron'll handle the rest," House looked over at them, seeing the anger in Cameron's eyes. The last person she wanted to be alone with was him. She'd rather have fifteen Houses than spend another minute with Chase.
He messed up the first five tests they'd done earlier in the day because he barely "got any sleep" last night, which Cameron was almost sure was a lie for another activity. She was about at the end of her rope with him.
"Okay," House raised an eyebrow at Foreman, hoisting himself up from his chair at the table. "Let's leave the scissor sisters to do the tests."
This received an eye roll from Chase. Cameron got up and left without him.
"Go get 'em, Tiger!" House gave Chase a faux pat on the shoulder, holding onto it before pushing him away. Chase followed Cameron — who was making record time to get away from Chase so they didn't have to ride the elevator down together.
Chase jogged after her, catching her right before she stepped on the elevator. He didn't bother holding the door open for her. She scanned her card and pressed the button for their floor.
The elevator slowly whirred, jumping into place as it lifted them up a few floors.
"...do you want to apologize yet?" Cameron asked Chase without turning to face him, instead intently watching the elevator doors.
Chase threw his hands up in annoyance. "For what? I already said why I fucked up the tests. Jesus."
"You're so full of shit," Cameron laughed, gaze hardening on the doors of the elevator.
Chase crossed his arms, glancing over at Cameron again before he decided it would probably be best to not say anything else. Cameron took the bait, finally turning to face him.
"You knew we had a limited amount of time on those tests this morning. I knew what was wrong with him but you messed up the tests so badly that you made me look stupid," She took no time to tear into him. "On top of that, three hours later, House finally comes to the conclusion that maybe I was actually right after all. The entire morning was wasted because you couldn't pull it together."
Chase scoffed, shaking his head and turning to face Cameron completely. He opened his mouth to answer, but the elevator doors opened to their floor before he could punch back.
"I'm in charge of the tests," Cameron warned.
Chase tagged along behind her as she turned through the hallway, scanning into one of the testing rooms where she pulled the samples they'd collected out of her labcoat. Chase watched her, sitting on one of the stools in the room.
"You know," Chase started, fiddling with a test tube that laid empty on the table in front of him. "We could just move on from this so we can actually survive the rest of the day."
"You'd like that," Cameron quipped, keeping herself busy with sorting the samples.
"Uh, yeah. I'd like to act like coworkers instead of bickering like we're five."
Cameron paused.
"I already gave you a chance to apologize for earlier and you doubled down, so which one is it? Because that was pretty immature to me, Chase."
Chase set the test tube back down in his tray.
"I couldn't care less about this morning. I just want to move on."
"Then apologize."
"I literally don't have anything to apologize for. So what? Accidents happen," Chase said, standing up and pushing the stool aside. He closed in on Cameron, who refused to turn and face him and instead continued sorting the samples. "Just move on."
Cameron first glanced up at Chase, slowly turning her head with a hardened gaze up at him. She didn't dare speak — instead taking her time to look up at Chase — who was obviously flustered but equally as pissed as she was. Neither of them wanted to back down. Cameron wanted to win.
"What?" Chased scoffed, shaking his head again.
"All you have to do is apologize and we can move on, like you so desperately want," Cameron reminded him, snapping her focus back to the tests. Chase attempted to veer the subject in a new direction.
"Which test can I do?"
"None of them."
"Cameron."
No response from Cameron as she continued her work, Chase standing aimlessly more than an arm's length away from Cameron. She felt like he was slightly too spooked to come any closer.
They stood like that for a few more moments before Chase cut through the silence again, deciding to make things worse. That was his specialty.
"You're always so shitty about this stuff," Chase said, coming closer to her. "You can't stand the idea of someone else messing up, but you get a hundred free passes. What about all the times we've saved your ass from making a stupid mistake?"
"I don't make stupid mistakes."
Chase looked at her with a mock-surprised reaction.
"Really?" He asked, placing a hand on the test table. "You're so much better than the rest of us."
That was it. She'd reached her tipping point — Chase standing over her nagging at her performance. Nagging because she'd called him out for being lazy. He couldn't take criticism, she was convinced.
She slammed the pipette she was using down on the table, standing up to match Chase over the table.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She hissed.
"Me? You're asking what's wrong with me?" Chase laughed in disbelief. "Jesus fucking christ, Cameron. Get a grip."
"I just don't understand why you won't apologize to me!"
Her tone rose to shouting level. Chase's gaze hardened again. It was his turn to match her.
"I just don't understand why you won't let this shit go!" He yelled back mockingly. "Seriously, I mean, come the hell on. You're always —"
Cameron backed him into the test table, pinning him there.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Chase said, feeling his face flush pink, looking down at Cameron. She looked like she was about to sock him in the jaw.
"You're going to apologize to me," she replied. A silence lulled between them, so much so that Cameron could hear Chase's labored breathing, attempting to collect himself. Her gaze was burning a hole in his face.
"Get off of me," Chase said, bringing his hand up to her shoulder to give her a shove backwards. Cameron grabbed his wrist before disarming him. The familiar cool metal of the table pressed against his backside again. He didn't attempt to push away a second time.
Cameron — internally shocked that her antics seemed to be actually working against him — decided to double down. She shoved his hand away from her shoulder, looking up at him and ghosting closer to his face.
"You're going to apologize right now."
"Am not." Chase bent away from her encroachment on his space.
"Asshole." Cameron moved closer.
"Could say the same about the way you're…"
Chase was cut short by a rough tug of his tie forward into Cameron's lips, bracing himself for impact by grabbing onto the table underneath him. His grasp on the table was approaching white-knuckle territory. But everything — Cameron against him, the absolutely baseless anger he felt about her, mixed with a lack of sleep and a lingering hangover — obstructed his better judgment to stop it right then and there. Instead he let her pull away, a grasp still holding tight on his brown tie.
He didn't respond in disgust. Even though he probably should've. But the way that Cameron held on to his tie — threatening to tighten it more — made him feel weak in the knees. It made him want to apologize a little less so it'd last longer.
He'd definitely been in the wrong. He'd spent a little too much time out last night and yes — he'd considered going home with someone. His plans were rudely stopped by his own faults: he drank too much. He'd gotten sick in the bathroom sink of the dive bar and had to call Wilson to come pick him up. He knew he'd be the only one who would pick him up — no questions asked.
He wasn't himself when he came into work this morning. Dark circles under his eyes and hair a mess. His tie didn't match his shirt. His socks were mismatched (which could be explained away, at least nobody saw his socks, right?). He looked, generally, bad. He'd arrived at the differentials late, and House noticed. It became the point of discussion for the rest of the morning.
"Not here," was all Chase responded with, looking up at the glass windows of the testing room, waiting for House to turn the corner to see his fellows pressed up against one another.
"Fuck off," Cameron said, tugging him forward into another frenzied kiss, opening her mouth into his. She pressed into him, hips digging into his. Chase tried to compose himself, gripping the table without daring to move his hands anywhere else. He wanted to pull away but he found himself falling into her, looking to control the encounter somehow. The tugging on his tie was rubbing into the back of his neck.
When she pulled away the second time, Chase was still being held near her lips by his tie. His face had softened into a familiar expression of want, eyes were wide with anticipation — and partially shock — as he looked at Cameron. He was bent over slightly to be at eye-level with her, lips parted and pink from the kiss. He breathed hard.
"I don't know what's worse," Cameron started, fist closing in hard around Chase's tie. "The fact that you won't apologize for a stupid mistake, or the fact that you're actually enjoying this."
She watched as Chase tried to recollect himself to put his guard back up, shaking his head quickly in denial of her claims.
"You're the one who won't let me go," He reminded her. "So let me go. Or you're as bad as me."
"Fine," Cameron mocked. "You're right. Let's let it go. We'll move on and you'll learn nothing from this, like always." She looked over at the glass walls of the testing room and back at Chase, cocking her head to the side and plastering a smile on.
"You know what? Come help me some of this stuff for the longer-form tests out of the closet and we'll be even. You don't have to apologize."
She released the air-tight grip she had on Chase's tie, watching him finally relax from being freed from her touch. Pivoting on her heels, she grabbed an empty beaker and headed towards the closet, hearing Chase shuffle behind her.
Unlatching the supply closet door and walking inside, Cameron watched Chase trail in behind her, surveying the stacks of rubber gloves and facemasks.
…There weren't any tests in here.
Cameron had already circled Chase around to where the supply closet door was already slowly closing shut on its own hinges. She obstructed Chase's path to escape. She was going to make him beg for it. If he even wanted it — which he did.
"I don't care how long it takes," Cameron said, closing in on Chase. He stepped backwards into the metal shelves behind him, back colliding with the hard metal of the shelves. She continued to get closer, moving her lips up to his ear. "You're going to say that you're sorry."
Chase's dick obviously had a different plan than what he was thinking. Cameron's hot breath on his neck made him feel like he'd be ready to apologize ten times over if she asked him to — if it meant that he'd be able to keep doing whatever this was. He weighed apologizing on the spot — but remembered that it'd certainly end before it could even begin. Instead he just stood, frozen against Cameron's body. He ghosted a hand over her right hip, fingers brushing over her belt loops.
He knew he couldn't be the only one enjoying this.
Cameron shot him a look when he touched her, giving him another forceful shove into the shelves.
"You're pathetic," she scoffed. "Look at you. Can't keep it in your pants, can't apologize, and you get off on me telling you that, too."
"Cameron," Chase whined, completely departing from his hard stance on not apologizing. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Please let me… whatever you want."
Cameron chuckled at the suggestion.
"You think you get to get out of apologizing like that? Don't try me. I know what you're doing," she bit back, pressing harder up against him. He was getting excited. She slid one of her hands down to palm at him, receiving another high-pitched whine in response. "You don't get to do anything."
Chase pressed his hips into her hand on his now throbbing cock, pressing hard against his boxers and khakis — aching under the anticipation of Cameron's next move. Instead, she stepped back, removing herself from Chase entirely. She watched him jerk his head upwards, eyes glazed over with a longing she hadn't seen from him. Cameron had him wrapped around her finger.
"All you have to do is apologize," Cameron reminded him, glancing down at his khakis. "Apologize and we can keep going. Apologize or I leave you here like this."
Chase — still frozen from absolute shock and want for Cameron — decided to finally inch closer to her and away from the shelves.
"I already said," Chase reminded her. "I'm not apologizing for shit. I didn't do anything wrong. Can't two things be true at the same time? We can still have sex — it doesn't mean I need to apologize."
Cameron charged forward at him — letting him crash back into the shelves. She grabbed hard at his hips, close enough to his face to let their noses brush up against one another.
"Listen to me," Cameron snapped, forcefully. "I don't give a fuck what you think. All this proves to me is that you are as shitty as I'd like to believe." She moved a hand back to his cock through his khakis. He was pushing closer to the edge — and straddling the line before climax would get tricky if Cameron kept yelling at him like this. His mouth hung slightly agape, cheeks brushed a light pink from Cameron's demands.
He didn't snap back — he didn't even complain — he just pushed his hips up into her touch, letting out whines peppered with groans of Cameron's name. He didn't beg. His eyes were lightly lidded from the friction that Cameron was providing on his cock. He feared that he'd straddle the line between pleasure and climax too long and make a mess.
That was exactly what Cameron wanted.
Cameron watched all of this — watching him falter for words. She left a trail of light bite marks on his neck as she continued to palm him, hearing his breathing speed up after another moment of pressing into him.
"Please," Chase begged again. "Cameron."
"Say it."
"No."
She pressed harder into his khakis, cock twitching forward into her touch.
"Say it." Her tone reached beyond serious.
"No." He responded, voice faltering into another moan. She didn't repeat herself, pressing hard into Chase's pants as he gasped out. He bucked his hips forward into her hands again, tensing up with every movement before completely melting under her touch.
Cameron pulled away.
Chase looked disheveled. His tie was thrown over his shoulder and his shirt collar was crinkled, riddled with a few light marks from Cameron's tinted lip balm. But the real problem was his lower half. A light wet spot had made itself the star of the show on the front of his khakis. His pants were crinkled beyond belief. He just stared at Cameron from his spot pressed against the shelves, hair a mess.
She decided not to dig into him, instead taking a deep breath and nodding at him — like nothing had even happened.
"Well," she said. "You better get started on those tests. I'll let you bring the results to House after you finish them."
"Don't you want me to apologize?" Chase asked.
Cameron shrugged, shaking her head.
"Doesn't matter anymore," she responded.