Dr. Robert Chase (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trueaussiedoc) wrote2008-08-30 06:33 pm
trueaussiedoc) wrote2008-08-30 06:33 pm
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writers_muses: 51.1.H.
51.1.H. "It's all fun and games until someone gets cursed."
[Follows everything in CHASE'S BACHELOR PARTY PLOT]
Chase woke up in jail.
That’s not something one can say every day. In fact, he was pretty sure he was dreaming when he woke up, but considering how fucking cold he was and how bad his head hurt, this couldn’t be a dream; it had to be hell.
To make matters worse, he was naked in jail. Lucky was in the cell alone. Thank god for small miracles. He had no idea how he got there, he had no idea when he got there. He didn’t even know if he had managed to get to his own Bachelor Party because he couldn’t remember a fucking thing about it.
One officer eventually gave him a Princeton PD t-shirt to put on, but he had to contend with just a grey scratchy cell blanket to cover the rest of him. He felt so sick and eventually gave into it for close to half an hour over and over again in the stainless steel toilet of the cell before the police officer came back to make sure he wasn’t going to die on them. ‘Course, if he died or almost-died, he’d surely end up in hospital rather than a jail cell? Was that too much to ask?
The cop soon revealed Chase had been picked up and arrested for indecent exposure after flashing his tackle at a cop car. Fuck. He had a history of that. This wasn’t good. This time he wasn’t a teenager dressed as Marilyn Monroe and they weren’t going to let him off with just a warning. What the fuck had happened? How had he gotten so drunk and ended up like this… again?
But no further explanations were forthcoming. All the cop offered was the standard phone call, which only succeeded to make Chase’s stomach launch up into his throat nervously. If he called Rogue, she’d hate him. Lachlan. He had to call Lachlan. The only problem was, when he called Lachlan, it diverted to voicemail and he couldn’t remember Lachlan and Tara’s home phone number. His head started to throb, making him feel woozy like he was going to pass out. The cop gave him one last chance to call someone, so at least there was some sympathy for Chase’s position. “I think I was at my Bachelor Party,” he offered meekly.
A flicker of a smirk danced on the cop’s lips before his face fell blank again. “One more call, Dr Chase. And I’m only offering it because one day you might have to save my life and decide to tap in to your vindictive side.”
Chase didn’t laugh. He found no humour in this at all. He was standing there with his dick hanging out under a jail blanket and absolutely no memory of how he got here, let alone anyone else’s phone numbers. “Um, can I maybe see my cell phone to get a number off it? Two seconds. That’s all I’ll need it for,” he pleaded hoarsely. He still couldn’t believe he’d gone and gotten arrested at his Bachelor Party a week before his wedding.
The officer pursed his lips but reluctantly proffered Chase’s cell. Chase was more than aware he would only have it in his hand for probably the two seconds he’d asked for. Who to call? Logan? No fucking way. He would absolutely murder Chase for putting Rogue in a position she could get upset and Chase wouldn’t blame him. He just figured if someone was going to murder him, he’d much rather it not be Logan or Rogue. They both had those X-Men things that would hurt like a bitch. He didn’t even have Lachlan’s new home number in his cell phone. The Scot and his wife had only been in their home a short while. Oh god, this fucking sucked. Who could he call?
Remy.
Remy was here in Princeton for the Bachelor Party and understood the wild ways of the world. Chase had invited him in an effort to try and get to know Rogue’s friend better. At least, that had been the plan. Chase wasn’t even sure if the party happened. Maybe he’d been drugged by a vengeful patient or something? It’s not like it wouldn’t happen. He did work for House for three years and killed a patient once. He found Remy’s cell number and dialled it in to jail phone, handing his own phone back to the officer with a pained sigh.
Remy, not surprisingly, was mid-fuck with one of the hotel cleaners. He’d lost interest in the party when Chase and frantic Scottish Best Man had left. No one really seemed to have the drunken Karaoke knack that Chase did. Remy left, then picked up one of the maids on his way back to his room with a random snog and grope in the hallway. She was putty in his hands within moments. He had no real interest in the woman herself. All he’d spent the duration doing was fantasising about Maddy beneath him; his only purpose had been to get off before bed. He always slept better after a good hard orgasm. The fantasies had been promising that plan was inevitable.
He stopped mid-thrust, not even looking down at his bed mate, and reached for the phone. She moaned in frustration, trying to get him to not answer it, but he ignored her and rolled off her to take the call. “LeBeau,” he answered breathlessly, putting his hand up to wipe the aroused sweat from his forehead.
“Um, Remy, it’s Chase,” Chase said as he closed his eyes and put his forehead in his hand. “I need you to do me a really huge favour…”
- Remy LeBeau is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dontdotricks and used with permission. drcampbell, justalilcontact & hrtsevrytime referenced with permission.
Word Count | 944
[Follows everything in CHASE'S BACHELOR PARTY PLOT]
Chase woke up in jail.
That’s not something one can say every day. In fact, he was pretty sure he was dreaming when he woke up, but considering how fucking cold he was and how bad his head hurt, this couldn’t be a dream; it had to be hell.
To make matters worse, he was naked in jail. Lucky was in the cell alone. Thank god for small miracles. He had no idea how he got there, he had no idea when he got there. He didn’t even know if he had managed to get to his own Bachelor Party because he couldn’t remember a fucking thing about it.
One officer eventually gave him a Princeton PD t-shirt to put on, but he had to contend with just a grey scratchy cell blanket to cover the rest of him. He felt so sick and eventually gave into it for close to half an hour over and over again in the stainless steel toilet of the cell before the police officer came back to make sure he wasn’t going to die on them. ‘Course, if he died or almost-died, he’d surely end up in hospital rather than a jail cell? Was that too much to ask?
The cop soon revealed Chase had been picked up and arrested for indecent exposure after flashing his tackle at a cop car. Fuck. He had a history of that. This wasn’t good. This time he wasn’t a teenager dressed as Marilyn Monroe and they weren’t going to let him off with just a warning. What the fuck had happened? How had he gotten so drunk and ended up like this… again?
But no further explanations were forthcoming. All the cop offered was the standard phone call, which only succeeded to make Chase’s stomach launch up into his throat nervously. If he called Rogue, she’d hate him. Lachlan. He had to call Lachlan. The only problem was, when he called Lachlan, it diverted to voicemail and he couldn’t remember Lachlan and Tara’s home phone number. His head started to throb, making him feel woozy like he was going to pass out. The cop gave him one last chance to call someone, so at least there was some sympathy for Chase’s position. “I think I was at my Bachelor Party,” he offered meekly.
A flicker of a smirk danced on the cop’s lips before his face fell blank again. “One more call, Dr Chase. And I’m only offering it because one day you might have to save my life and decide to tap in to your vindictive side.”
Chase didn’t laugh. He found no humour in this at all. He was standing there with his dick hanging out under a jail blanket and absolutely no memory of how he got here, let alone anyone else’s phone numbers. “Um, can I maybe see my cell phone to get a number off it? Two seconds. That’s all I’ll need it for,” he pleaded hoarsely. He still couldn’t believe he’d gone and gotten arrested at his Bachelor Party a week before his wedding.
The officer pursed his lips but reluctantly proffered Chase’s cell. Chase was more than aware he would only have it in his hand for probably the two seconds he’d asked for. Who to call? Logan? No fucking way. He would absolutely murder Chase for putting Rogue in a position she could get upset and Chase wouldn’t blame him. He just figured if someone was going to murder him, he’d much rather it not be Logan or Rogue. They both had those X-Men things that would hurt like a bitch. He didn’t even have Lachlan’s new home number in his cell phone. The Scot and his wife had only been in their home a short while. Oh god, this fucking sucked. Who could he call?
Remy.
Remy was here in Princeton for the Bachelor Party and understood the wild ways of the world. Chase had invited him in an effort to try and get to know Rogue’s friend better. At least, that had been the plan. Chase wasn’t even sure if the party happened. Maybe he’d been drugged by a vengeful patient or something? It’s not like it wouldn’t happen. He did work for House for three years and killed a patient once. He found Remy’s cell number and dialled it in to jail phone, handing his own phone back to the officer with a pained sigh.
Remy, not surprisingly, was mid-fuck with one of the hotel cleaners. He’d lost interest in the party when Chase and frantic Scottish Best Man had left. No one really seemed to have the drunken Karaoke knack that Chase did. Remy left, then picked up one of the maids on his way back to his room with a random snog and grope in the hallway. She was putty in his hands within moments. He had no real interest in the woman herself. All he’d spent the duration doing was fantasising about Maddy beneath him; his only purpose had been to get off before bed. He always slept better after a good hard orgasm. The fantasies had been promising that plan was inevitable.
He stopped mid-thrust, not even looking down at his bed mate, and reached for the phone. She moaned in frustration, trying to get him to not answer it, but he ignored her and rolled off her to take the call. “LeBeau,” he answered breathlessly, putting his hand up to wipe the aroused sweat from his forehead.
“Um, Remy, it’s Chase,” Chase said as he closed his eyes and put his forehead in his hand. “I need you to do me a really huge favour…”
- Remy LeBeau is
dontdotricks and used with permission. drcampbell, justalilcontact & hrtsevrytime referenced with permission.Word Count | 944