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30 June 2009 @ 01:05 am
seven letter word for liar 8/19  
It was true. She’d realized she needed a human connection and Chase had been willing. It sounded terrible when she looked at their relationship that way, but wasn’t that the basic principle underlying every relationship? A need for something intangible? house, md. part 8.



Cameron set her glasses down on the end table, turning to Chase. “Can I ask you a question?”

Chase nodded, looking up from his medical journal.

“Do you like my hair like this?”

Chase grinned, looking at her as if she was crazy. “Of course. You know I do.”

She was crazy. She’d decided that much.

“But, I mean, better than before?” she asked. She pressed the tips of her fingers to her forehead. “This isn’t some weird relationship trap,” she promised. “I was just wondering which you liked better, because for the life of me, I can’t seem to decide.”

“The blonde,” Chase replied. “No contest.”

Cameron frowned. “Really?” she asked, looking at him like he’d given her the wrong answer. She could tell that inwardly he was squirming.


Cameron shook her head, flashing him a smile. “Never mind,” she insisted, sliding down under the blankets. She laid in silence for a long time.

“Can I ask you a question?” Chase asked, rolling over in order to turn towards her.

Cameron, who had strategically been pretending to be asleep, flipped over to face him. “Okay,” she said pleasantly enough, although she was dreading his question. She wasn’t up to talking with Chase about anything serious. And the tone in his voice indicated that whatever he was about to bring up was very significant. But, he’d answered her question. She supposed fair was fair.

“Why did you agree to go out with me?”

Cameron supposed couples did this all the time. When did you know you were in love with me? What compelled you to show up at the exact place where we met? What were you thinking when you first saw me? Though an optimist through and through, Cameron was also a realist, molding her into quite a walking contradiction. People who asked questions like this were looking for some forced meaning in their lives. Saying, I had this sudden urge to get coffee, and there you were, the love of my life, was an idiotic lie. People met by coincidence or through events they couldn’t control. Chase, was not one of these cloudy-eyed types. Chase didn’t believe in fate. So when he spoke those words, Cameron knew he was asking her for a real answer. He wanted bare facts.

“I...don’t know,” was the first response to come to mind. She, of course, knew he wouldn’t buy this.

Chase studied her face, which was something he seemed to be doing much more frequently these days. The action unnerved her. She didn’t like meeting his eye.

“You do know,” he insisted. “I’m just curious.”

Which implied that he already had an idea of what the actual answer was, and he was looking for either confirmation or an alternate idea to discredit his theory.

She sighed. “Why?”

Chase raised his eyebrows as if he was surprised by the question. “Why won’t you answer?”

Cameron allowed her eyes to slowly linger downwards, away from his face. “Why’s it so important?”

He was very patient with her. She respected that much about him. Anyone else would have grown irritated by her avoiding the question. He did know her better than she tended to give him credit for. And he still liked her, which, she thought, was quite astonishing.

“Can I ask another question without you getting angry?”

Cameron’s eyes flicked up towards his instantly. “Why would I get angry?” She paused, rethinking her question. “Fine,” she agreed. “You can ask.” If she wouldn’t tell him, she could at least allow him to ask her a question.

“Did it have anything to do with House?” he said, quite innocently enough. “I’m not talking about you wanting to make him jealous,” he added quickly, much to Cameron’s relief. “I just have been thinking about it a lot lately, and I’ve been wondering if maybe you just agreed to go out with me, because you realized House wasn’t going to ever ask you.”

Stick and stones would have been preferred.

She’d severely misjudged him. How horrible could she be? Half of the time she treated Chase with indifference, assuming she knew more about people than he did. She thought she knew him well. She obviously didn’t. She hadn’t expected he’d ever catch on to her.

“I won’t mind,” he said, and she could taste the sincerity in his voice. “I just want to know.”

Guilt dug at her with unforgiving claws. She stared at Chase sympathetically. She wouldn’t lie to him. He didn’t deserve any more half-truths.

“Partly,” she insisted, searching his eyes for a reaction. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. “But part of the reason I quit House’s team was because he fired you.”

It was true. She’d realized she needed a human connection and Chase had been willing. It sounded terrible when she looked at their relationship that way, but wasn’t that the basic principle underlying every relationship? A need for something intangible?

“I’m sorry I give you such a hard time about him,” Chase said honestly. “It’s just hard not to get all crazy when you can be so...”

So what? Heartless? She swallowed.

Inconsiderate? She felt horrible.



The word stunned her. Not merely because of the significance of the word, but because, he’d called her on her flaw.

It wasn’t him. It really wasn’t. None of it was his fault.

He was right. She could be distant. She preached up and down about caring and helping and not being cold, but she was only overcompensating with her patients for what she lacked in her own life.

It went back much farther than her husband dying. It went back years before him. She’d learned how to be her own best friend, how to live inside of herself, how to go through the motions without ever feeling a thing.

It took a rare person to break through a decade’s worth of mental blockades. Her husband had done it. House often found weak points. But Chase? He’d barely made a dent.

Not for lack of trying.

There was something wrong with her.

Her eyes glistened slightly as she squinted at him, wanting more than ever to be the person he wanted. She could always change. She just didn’t know how.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, feeling terrible for uttering the same generic words people always thought to say when they’d done something wrong. She felt her grip on his forearm tighten. She really was sorry.

“I know,” he said softly, understanding, but still clueless as to how to help her. “I know,” he repeated, rubbing her back reassuringly, letting her know that he wasn’t about to leave.

The gesture brought her to tears and he held her tightly, but she couldn’t be sure if she was crying because he was being so understanding, or because she wished he would get fed up and leave.

But, she had given him a drawer...a materialistic reminder that Chase was her boyfriend...that they were in this together. The drawer itself didn't freak her out, but the idea behind it certainly did. She buried her head deeper in his tee shirt, unable to bring herself to ask herself all of the questions that she ought to be asking.

To her, it was just a drawer. To Chase, it was a promise.

A promise she knew she could never keep.

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