Hands

Don't do it! Don't do it! . . . too late.

Cameron cocked her head, knowing full well this was something she was going to regret doing. Foreman gave her a look across the console. He knew where this was going. Again.

Wait for it . . . wait for it . . .

"Do you think he uses moisturizer?"

Bingo.

"On what?" The other doctor rubbed his temples wearily. Honestly, those two were enough to make him drink.

"His hands." Cameron looked down quickly as Chase looked up, glad that he couldn't hear her through the glass. "They're too nice."

"And your point?"

"Well . . . " She paused. "Most straight men don't have hands like that. Actually, most men don't even wash their hands."

Foreman gritted his teeth. Really, they really needed to sleep together again and not talk for a few weeks because this really tended to get on his nerves. Talking about the other to him which he really didn't understand. Then again, he was also pretty sure neither one of them had friends. Yep, that explained a lot.

"We've confirmed that Chase is straight." He replied nonchalantly. After all, why let them know that he was annoyed?

"I know, but no one's hands are that nice when they're straight." Cameron was looking intently at Chase's hands again. "I mean, no callouses and the skin is so damn soft -- "

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Foreman glanced at her again. "Wouldn't you?"

Cameron immediately snapped her attention away from Chase. "No."

"Right." Foreman shook his head, rolling his eyes. One day, one day, he swore to himself, he was going to lock them in supply closet with a bottle of wine and was not going to let them out until they were good and tired. Or at least admitted they really needed to stop talking to him about their love lives.