Chapter Text
“Mate, told you the husband was cheating! It was so obvious.”
Chase flashed his perfect smile at his colleagues. Despite a tough upbringing, he somehow acquired a certain self-assurance during the years he worked for the genius diagnostician, and that made him both confident and incredibly insufferable. Irritation shone through exhausted faces.
Foreman rolled his eyes at his co-worker's antics.
“You seem to know all about cheating,” Angie Fournier chimed in. A mask of pride slipped off Chase's smooth skin.
“Hey now, I was drunk that time, and it only happened once. You all owe me 50 bucks, though.”
“Daddy’s money not enough for your greedy ass?” Foreman fished the banknote out of his wallet with resignation.
“My father left me nothing,” Chase pouted. “Come on, gals, cough it up.”
He extended his hand towards them. Angie reluctantly handed over the money.
“You better not spend that on your sex dungeon equipment.”
That was the running joke between them after House discovered that Chase had attended BDSM parties back in college. It was one of the many things that, to the blonde’s misfortune, they couldn’t seem to forget.
“Har har, really funny. Cameron?”
“I can't believe it. They seemed so in love. He brings her flowers every day. They own a company together.”
“Yeah, guilt makes people do crazy things,” Foreman answered, but he wasn’t paying much attention to their discussion as he exchanged his trainers for patent shoes. He smoothed his jacket, deep in thought.
“You're still stuck on the patient's relationship? Come on, Allison, you see good in everyone. It's just not realistic,” Chase groaned. “Next, you'll tell us that you believe in true love.”
“And what if I do?” Cameron's eyes flashed with defiance.
“There's nothing wrong with being optimistic, Chase,” Angie sighed.
“Whatever. Cameron, I still want my money. I won it fair and square.”
Allison shook her head with disapproval as she took her handbag out of the locker.
“It's just so sad to think that your partner loves you, borderline worships you, cooks for you, helps with chores, agrees to adopt a pet with you ... and then, when your eyes are resting on the peaceful life you've created for yourself, they stab you in the back with your trust and care. It's just so awful. Do you think the wife will be okay?”
“Well, she won't stay a wife much longer if she has any remaining self-respect,” Foreman snorted and hung his leather bag on his shoulder. “See you Monday.”
He left without waiting for their replies. A strange yearning overtook him, muting out all the others’ voices. Outside in the hall, a pretty blonde leaned on the counter, chatting with the main nurse.
“Wendy.”
“Eric.”
“I have a table reserved at that fancy place you wanted to check out.”
She smiled at him fondly, and they made their way into the warm June night, hands entwined.
In the locker room, Chase grew impatient and channeled all the intensity he could muster into a glare.
“Still waiting. And don't make any excuses about not having any on you. You always pay when House is involved.”
Cameron rolled her eyes. "Stop throwing your childish tantrums, will you?" She reached beneath the waistband of her jeans to retrieve the lost wage.
“What the …?”
Two slender fingers slipped out of her underwear with a folded dollar bill. Her colleagues stared in shock as she offered it to Chase.
“Holy shit!”
“Are you secretly a prossie?”
Cameron slammed her locker shut and strode out the door into the emptying halls of Princeton Plainsboro. The night shift had just begun, and she smiled sympathetically at the nurses on duty.
Chase smirked at Angie, smoothing the prize with his thumb.
“I need to win bets more often.”
“Shut up, you Aussie harlot!”