Dr. Robert Chase (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trueaussiedoc) wrote2008-05-29 08:44 pm
trueaussiedoc) wrote2008-05-29 08:44 pm
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
the_bigshow: 2.16 "Statistical Odds"
2.16 "Statistical Odds"
When Chase put his hand in the side pocket of his suitcase to look for the small box he knew he’d put there and found it empty, he literally shrieked in shock and pulled his hand back like a small demon had just taken a chomp out of his finger. He froze for all of ten seconds before he plunged his hand back into the pocket and scooped the entirety of the very empty pocket with his fingers.
“Ohmygodohmygod… oh.my.fucking.GOD!” No matter how much he willed the pocket not to be empty, he grabbed up nothing but fresh air. His eyes were wide and he broke out into a sweat as he started to reef his clothes roughly and messily from the suitcase, tossing them onto the floor, the bed and even flinging a pair of trousers across the room behind him where they ended up hanging off the top of the hotel suite mirror. Suddenly all thoughts of the hot sand, warm sparkling aqua water and Rogue in a very tiny bikini flew out the window in favour of the pure fact he’d gone and lost what he’d tried so hard to keep safe.
Sod’s-fucking-Law didn’t even begin to cut it.
“Fuck. Bloody fuck!” he bit out and spun around, scanning the room frantically. He hadn’t taken it out of the suitcase! He hadn’t! He’d specifically not taken it out so she wouldn’t see it and- “Toiletries.” He threw himself into the extravagant en suite bathroom complete with two-person jet spa that overlooked the beach. Again, even wet sex was the last thing on his mind right now.
He upended his toiletry bag into the sink and started to plough through the items. Shampoo, moisturiser, hair gel, comb, hair brush, itch cream, lubricant, condoms, cologne, shaving cream, razor… but no fucking box!
“Doc? Sugar? What are you doin’?” Rogue’s voice trailed him into the bathroom from down on the beach and he squeaked in panic, spinning around and pressing his backside against the vanity as his the thick heated throb became louder in his ears.
“I’m just…” He felt behind him and snapped up a random bottle and looked at it. “Sunscreen! Yes! Getting SUNSCREEN!” he called back, his voice rising in both volume and tone. “DON’T COME IN! I’M JUST LOOKING FOR IT!” He stopped, his ears straining to listen if she was still going to come looking for him, but silence reigned in the suite.
He exhaled heavily and ran back out into the main area of their Bahamas home for the week. The alarmed sweat was pouring off him now and he felt sick from panic. This wasn’t just like losing a cell phone or something. Fuck, if a cell phone cost that much, the American government should be dropped into the nearest ocean and pronto. He went back to his suitcase and started searching in it again, but it was a fruitless attempt.
But he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He picked up all his clothes and dumped them into a haphazard pile on the bed and proceeded to check the pockets of every single item of clothing… then double checked.
Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
He stood by the bed and put his head in his hands with a pained moan. Why did this have to happen?! He’d wanted it all to be so perfect and now he’d gone and fucked it up again. Maybe something was trying to tell him something? Maybe he should just quit while he was ahead? Whatever the fuck made him think he should try to do this, he had no clue.
He stuffed the clothes back into the suitcase and zipped it roughly shut. He shook his head, his heart and stomach feeling like they were trapped up in his throat and then went back down to Rogue on the beach… without the sunscreen.
- Follows THIS. Rogue (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justalilcontact) used with permission.
Muse | Dr Robert Chase
Fandom | House, M.D.
Words | 646
When Chase put his hand in the side pocket of his suitcase to look for the small box he knew he’d put there and found it empty, he literally shrieked in shock and pulled his hand back like a small demon had just taken a chomp out of his finger. He froze for all of ten seconds before he plunged his hand back into the pocket and scooped the entirety of the very empty pocket with his fingers.
“Ohmygodohmygod… oh.my.fucking.GOD!” No matter how much he willed the pocket not to be empty, he grabbed up nothing but fresh air. His eyes were wide and he broke out into a sweat as he started to reef his clothes roughly and messily from the suitcase, tossing them onto the floor, the bed and even flinging a pair of trousers across the room behind him where they ended up hanging off the top of the hotel suite mirror. Suddenly all thoughts of the hot sand, warm sparkling aqua water and Rogue in a very tiny bikini flew out the window in favour of the pure fact he’d gone and lost what he’d tried so hard to keep safe.
Sod’s-fucking-Law didn’t even begin to cut it.
“Fuck. Bloody fuck!” he bit out and spun around, scanning the room frantically. He hadn’t taken it out of the suitcase! He hadn’t! He’d specifically not taken it out so she wouldn’t see it and- “Toiletries.” He threw himself into the extravagant en suite bathroom complete with two-person jet spa that overlooked the beach. Again, even wet sex was the last thing on his mind right now.
He upended his toiletry bag into the sink and started to plough through the items. Shampoo, moisturiser, hair gel, comb, hair brush, itch cream, lubricant, condoms, cologne, shaving cream, razor… but no fucking box!
“Doc? Sugar? What are you doin’?” Rogue’s voice trailed him into the bathroom from down on the beach and he squeaked in panic, spinning around and pressing his backside against the vanity as his the thick heated throb became louder in his ears.
“I’m just…” He felt behind him and snapped up a random bottle and looked at it. “Sunscreen! Yes! Getting SUNSCREEN!” he called back, his voice rising in both volume and tone. “DON’T COME IN! I’M JUST LOOKING FOR IT!” He stopped, his ears straining to listen if she was still going to come looking for him, but silence reigned in the suite.
He exhaled heavily and ran back out into the main area of their Bahamas home for the week. The alarmed sweat was pouring off him now and he felt sick from panic. This wasn’t just like losing a cell phone or something. Fuck, if a cell phone cost that much, the American government should be dropped into the nearest ocean and pronto. He went back to his suitcase and started searching in it again, but it was a fruitless attempt.
But he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He picked up all his clothes and dumped them into a haphazard pile on the bed and proceeded to check the pockets of every single item of clothing… then double checked.
Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
He stood by the bed and put his head in his hands with a pained moan. Why did this have to happen?! He’d wanted it all to be so perfect and now he’d gone and fucked it up again. Maybe something was trying to tell him something? Maybe he should just quit while he was ahead? Whatever the fuck made him think he should try to do this, he had no clue.
He stuffed the clothes back into the suitcase and zipped it roughly shut. He shook his head, his heart and stomach feeling like they were trapped up in his throat and then went back down to Rogue on the beach… without the sunscreen.
- Follows THIS. Rogue (
justalilcontact) used with permission.Muse | Dr Robert Chase
Fandom | House, M.D.
Words | 646