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[worksmart]

I thought I saw this woman in the square today. Someone I knew. Obviously it's most likely to be coincidence; not like I haven't run into enough wacky versions of former patients since I got here. Some of them more than once. It's almost certainly not Her.

I'd just really like to find out for sure. Tonight.

I managed to dig a picture off the

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[as_damaged]

[She was painfully aware that this was an awful idea; justified it as an act of defiance, an exercise in self-control. And better (she reasoned) that he spend the curse with someone he knew, he trusted, than with some stranger. Safer, in the worst case scenario. If someone got hurt. So Cameron made her way to whichever room Chase had holed himself up with, expression neutral and steps unhurried. Seeming confident is nearly as good as being confident, after all.]

Chase?

[She rapped sharply on the door; trying to seem as authoritative as possible. It might make things easier.]

[worksmart]

[No God Chase would recognise knew what exactly was keeping him tied to that damn computer, but as long as he'd been left alone in that exam room he just hadn't been able to keep away. The holes he'd dug would probably have him through to China by now.]

[He looked up, startled, at the knock on the door, and narrowed his eyes.]

You by yourself?

[There were a couple of patients from that morning he thought would want a second crack at making him duck their punches. Worse, she could have brought House.]

[as_damaged]

It's just me.

[Bringing House would be tantamount to admitting her own weakness; and besides, whatever existed between her and Chase was complicated enough without their employer's attention. There had been a time when she'd flaunted their non-relationship, swayed by the heady sense of control she'd had, able to talk Chase into anything, anywhere; but not now. Not here, and especially not with Chase as he was, unaware of their-- involvement, and of how it ended. She tried the doorknob, uncertainty breeding impatience.]

[worksmart]

[Locked, but he was turning the key at the same time she tried the handle, which left him ducking the swing of the door as it fell open. An anxious glance shot both ways down the hall behind her, he closed the door once she was safely inside and barely won an internal struggle not to lock it again.]

[Instead he turned and leant back against the frame, closing his eyes for a moment. Even to the untrained observer he had to look several kinds of strung out.]

This... isn't me. [It unsettled him to say it, but the feeling was no worse than suspecting that, somewhere deep down, it had been. Maybe it was.]

[as_damaged]

[There was a desperation to his statement that she hadn't quite expected, and for a moment it caught her off guard. She spared him a small smile of reassurance.]

You'll be all right.

[Cameron glanced around his self-imposed prison briefly, not really trusting herself to meet his eyes; if she was cursed, it was only barely-- only enough to make her doubt her own motives. If. Maybe doubt was just doubt, the natural uncertainty of their situation.]

Ready to go?

[worksmart]

If you're sure we have to. [Despite himself, he opened his eyes to glance between her face and the bed behind her. If he could have walked out of there without making the attempt then he would. Today, though, that just wasn't going to happen. Cursed was the appropriate word for it.]

[And damn him, he even cracked a smile. She had shown up for him, after all.]

Come on. How many times would you have liked to see me on my knees, really? You could have it. You could have me beg.

[as_damaged]

[She turned back at that, eyebrow raised, her expression more than a little haughty.]

You'd enjoy it too much.

[That's a joke, really, but somehow it falters in delivery; sounding not quite cruel, but somehow too serious. Judging by his behavior, he would; and she doesn't like to admit that in a twisted way this isn't unfamiliar. It's a caricature, a gross exaggeration-- but she likes to be in control; he wants to relinquish control.]

...So, is it safe to take you home, or are you going to horrify your roommate?

[worksmart]

[Haughty worked for him. On Cameron, most expressions did. Today's curse, however, was definitely giving haughty an extra edge, and he could overlook the flatness in her tone just for the chance to get a closer look.]

[Which meant he'd crossed the room to where she stood by the time he asked her if it was safe. He winced slightly at the recollection of what he'd said to Peter.]

I've horrified my roommate already, and my neighbour, and half the damn hospital.

[For all the regret and loathing he could pack into the words, there was something else beneath them. A trace of intent.]

I could be sued. Struck off. I should be disciplined.

[Oh yes, there it was.]

Hard.

[as_damaged]

[And there it was, his strained spirit rallying. Actual begging would have been easier to deal with; it was so unlike him to show weakness, she'd have an easier time keeping the circumstances in mind. But his suggestions were bold enough to overshadow the fact that this wasn't real-- wasn't entirely real, anyway, though it hit closer to home than she wanted to admit.]

I'm not going to hit you.

[A little sarcastic, since he wasn't exactlty asking her to. But curse-induced abuse was a bit of a touchy subject, and she was serious about first doing no harm. Not to mention, she'd seen where such things ended... a fact brought back to recollection by his desperate search for Annette. But, at the same time it wasn't an outright rejection, which (she knew) is what she ought to have given him

[worksmart]

[Annette and Harvey had been a rare case scenario. You always heard the news stories about sex play gone bad, because when it went right it stayed quietly behind closed doors. A little dominance-submission play wasn't exactly a niche: you could find fuzzy handcuffs in dollar stores for God's sake. Chase had played on both sides of the fence and come through it with a cigarette burn below his collarbone and a few surprisingly high powered social contacts (always on the sub side), but nothing more.]

You didn't get hit at school, did you? Bet they managed discipline.

[Not that Cameron would have needed it. She kept herself reigned in so tight there was no room for anyone else to criticise. If there was one thing he could count on, it was that when it came to control he worked with a girl who knew what she was doing

[as_damaged]

[She was pleased with him, rather to her own surprise. She'd been down this road and knew that under other circumstances, his obedience had a limit; in her own mind she'd given him as many chances as she dared, when he'd said he wanted more. It didn't even bother her that he had feelings for her, but she couldn't stand to let him say it; because it demanded a response she did not intend to make.]

[For a moment she merely stood looking down at him, a little uncertain of how to proceed but aware that the decision was hers to make. This wasn't her scene, not by a long shot; though she understood a little of the appeal right now. She was rarely certain what she wanted from him, except that for safety's sake she usually rejected whatever was offered out of hand. As much control as she claimed, she didn't think she could manage that right now. She drew the pause out, making him wait. Starting small. Cameron was practiced, after all, in refusing him any satisfaction, except on her own terms.]

Do not try to make this into

[worksmart]

[He hadn't been lying when he said that the scene wasn't his, either. He'd dipped toes in the water because he'd been curious, and because the woman he'd been dating put up a convincing case for what might be gained from it, but he'd never waded in far enough to get carried away. Definitely not to the extent that he could be today. Yes, he'd always harbour a need for approval that made him both give and take a little more than he should in all manner of relationships, personal and professional, and maybe he'd always have an appreciation for assertive women. That was as far as it went.]

[Today, right now, he was willing and eager to go just as far as she asked. Tomorrow wasn't a flicker of a concern: surely the clearest possible sign that he wasn't anywhere near thinking like himself. He shook his head, curtly, biting down on one corner of his lip to keep from asking what it was.]

It's whatever you want it to be. Just that, I promise.

[Obedience. An exercise in saying what someone wants to hear.]

[as_damaged]

[An agreed-upon lie would do; it was the closest she could come to keeping herself safe. They wouldn't be able to ignore this, or pretend it hadn't happened, but she could at least claim she'd been clear in her aims, even if she couldn't stop herself. Though it didn't do much to guide her in how to proceed; Cameron was more accustomed to manipulation through deprivation than domination. Another long moment passed, before she nodded slightly.]

Your tie.

[An outstretched hand clarified the request. Restraints seemed too much like work; like dealing with a patient, which inspired sympathy. This was strange enough as it was, without adding that element of surreality. But restraint was a basic means of control, right? It seemed like a good start. She spared the door another glance, but made no move to lock it.]

[worksmart]

[Waiting killed him. Particularly as this situation had no guarantees, just one small, elusive, nearly unbelievable hint of promise. He'd have whimpered if she'd made him hold out much longer. Almost did anyway as he nodded and reached to unclip, unknot and slip the tie out from under the crisp collar of his shirt. As usual the shirt itself looked better without the clashing stripe of garish colour matched against it. Money couldn't buy taste.]

Hands together, he held out the tie flat across both palms, daring to make eye contact. Swiped his tongue anxiously across dry lips and looked for where he left his voice.]

Are... Are you going to..?

[as_damaged]

[Cameron didn't answer, not trusting that her voice wouldn't quaver. She took the tie from him without looking at it, neither breaking their gaze nor betraying any intention, and ran it through her hands thoughtfully, sleek fabric loosely looped around her palm.]

[A certain awkwardness seemed unavoidable; she rested her right knee on the bed, alongside his leg, and grasped his wrists. More gently, perhaps, than he might have liked; she pushed his arms back, leaning in press together them behind him. Nearly in his lap, but not quite; too close, left shoulder resting on his right as she shifted to the side, putting all her weight on the bent knee, looping the tie around his wrists. She pulled it taut, effective if not artful; bound his hands together. Fairly tightly-- though the knot would likely give if he really worked at it.]

[She drew back a little, but didn't move away or take her weight off the mattress, watching his reaction. Not seeking approval, but intent on understanding this.]

[worksmart]

[Chase's breath caught and held as she pressed closer, a shaky exhalation marking the twist of fabric around his wrists. He tested her handiwork, pulling at the bonds but not too hard. They were taking fragile steps, here. Under the dizzying want of the curse was a dim awareness that anything pushed too hard might break. The pretense, her patience, these knots.]

[He craned toward her as she pulled away, eyes dark in the shadows cast between them. He could remember this uncertainty from the last time they'd gotten this close, but she'd been so demanding and he'd forgotten everything as she pulled him down. This time she was here on his demands; ironic, considering what they were.]

Cameron, please. [There was even a trace of force to the way he begged. Need begat urgency.] I won't do anything you don't want. Just tell me what you do want. Please.