I Get a Kick out of You

-Ch 1-

House didn’t bother to knock. Chase had given him his key, well, he hadn’t realized House had made a copy, and that was nearly as good. He fished the key out of his pocket and let himself in. “Honey, I’m-“ He paused and tilted his head.”-Confused…” He finished. “What are you doing?”

Chase fell over with a yelp, then glared up at House from the yoga mat in the middle of his living room. "House, what are you doing in my apartment!"

“At the moment? Trying to figure out how you do that without breaking your spine. And I asked first.“

Chase rolled his eyes, untangled him self from…himself… and pushed off of the floor. He brushed his hair out of his eye.

I’m doing yoga. You’re the one who won’t let me run for three more weeks remember? Now your turn! Why are you in my apartment? And how did you get in!"

"You do yoga? Wow you get girlier every day! Huh. Hey can you reach your..."

"House!" Chase stopped him with a raised hand.

"Oh fine. Party pooper. I stole your keys and had copies made. You should really keep better track of your belongings you know. Any psychopath could get in."

Chase sighed and covered his face with his hands.

"Oh don't pout. I'm not just stalking you. I have Foreman and Cameron's keys too. Cuddy's too for that matter. And Wilson was dumb enough to give me a key on his own. Sucker."

"You really are psychotic you know that right? I assume you had a good reason for this visit other then just trying to make me break my neck?"

"We need to have a talk."

Chase snickered and gave him an amused look. "You’re breaking up with me? I thought I broke up with you?”

"Cute. But no I'm serious. We need to talk about your physical. The mandatory, and-that-means-you yearly duckling check up.”

“We didn’t have one last year” Chase mumbled under his breath.

House ignored him and continued. “I got your results back today. But you know the funny thing is, all of those tests that you aced? Not a single record of them. No blood results, No urine tests, not even any used gloves. Just a check list and a gold star for the healthy wombat.” He plunked himself down on the couch.

Chase looked defiant. “I took those tests! Ask Dr. Heartford. She administered them all herself!”

“Dr. Heartford’s been trying to get in your pants since you showed up. So did the two of you do it in the exam room, or did she actually make you take her out to dinner before she would fake the tests?”

Chase blinked. “You think I’d sleep with somebody just to get out of a physical?”

“Duh.”

“Our date had nothing to do with me not taking a physical.” Chase ducked his head. “We just…lost track of time, and she didn’t have any other free appointments.” He admitted.

“I knew it! You are such a slut. And you’re still getting tested. Even Cuddy’s backing me up on this one. You’re not coming back to work until I have a complete history, including a recent physical, with a paper trail. We’re just going to have to add STD screening now.”

“What!” Chase looked appalled. He sank back down onto the yoga mat.

“Well if you would keep it in your pants.” House suggested.

“That’s not what I meant! Why do I have to get a physical? They just checked me out the other day. My head’s completely fine. I don’t even get dizzy any more!”

“When was the last time you had a physical?”

Chase opened his mouth and House held up a finger in warning. “Ahh! No lying, a real physical.”

Chase chewed on his lip for a minute. “Well… er… I usually do my own.”

House sighed. “Stress on the word real, wombat. Try again.”

“The school nurse checked me out before I was allowed to join the football team when I was 12.”

“So you’ve never had a physical?”

“I said I usually-“

“You don’t get to do your own!” House cut him off, feeling a migraine starting to gnaw on the edges of his brain.

House shook his head. "”You can't keep going like this, with your phobia. Ok I admit it you have a valid cause with what your father did to you as a kid, but it's been over 20 years, it's time to get over it. You work in a hospital! It's amazing you haven't landed your self in a bed before, what are you going to do if you get hurt again? Or get sick? You'll completely freak out. And then I have to jam the big needle full of sedatives in your ass. You have to get over this."

"Lots of people have issues with hospitals! And I have a good immune system, I take vitamins, and I don't get hurt easily. I've survived this long I'll be fine! Remember that time I sliced my hand on a piece of glass? I took care of it myself!"

"That was a scratch, and those people don't work in hospitals, with patients with weird, possibly contagious, illnesses, on a daily bases! How often do our patents have psychotic breaks and get violent! You've had near misses before, only it took a toss in the ER to finely land you with a head injury. What are you going to do when next time it's worse? When next time I'm not there to take you home and baby sit you, or it’s too severe and requires staying in the hospital?"

Chase glared and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You’re taking your physical. “ House decreed.

"Oh come on! Like you get check ups?" Chase snapped.

"Yes."

"Yeah which consist of what? 'Hey Wilson. Not dead. Give me more Vicodin!'?" Chase snarked glaring.

"Not quite. But we're talking about you and your issues not me."

Chase made a face. "Alright fine. But...can't you just do it here or something?"

"You know as much as I want to role play kinky doctor and naughty patient with you, I'm talking actual real medical tests and exams."

Chase rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant."

"Suuure it wasn’t wombat. Sure. Look, even I took my physical this time. I let a doctor stick his finger up my ass for you, so you’re going, whether you like it or not."

Chase blinked then suddenly turned on House. "You planed this! This- this- this whole physical thing! Just to get me examined!"

House tried, and failed to look innocent.

"There's no other explanation! Why the hell else would you suddenly decide every one on the team should get checkups!"

"...um. We're all exposed to icky germs on a regular bases?" House tried.

Chase snorted. "Try again."

"Oh fine! Yes it was all my evil plan to get you naked in an exam room and have my wicked way with you! And I would have gotten away with it it wasn't for you, you meddling kid! Curses! Foiled again!" House snarked.

"Well if that's all you wanted, you could've said so. Then no one would've had to go to the doctor! I'm perfectly willing to whore my self out to avoid unnecessary trips to the hospital."

House opened his mouth then stopped looking like he was considering it for a minute then shook his head and glared at Chase. He grabbed a magazine off an end table, rolled it into a tube and hit Chase over the head with it. "No! Bad duckie! Bad!"

Chase didn't look in the least bit chastised. He looked amused in fact. "Is that a no?"

"You are not getting out of this though your sexual wiles!"

Chase sighed. "There's no way I'm getting out of this?"

"Nope."

“Sure?”

“Yup.”

"Damnit."

"You have two choices. Go back to Princeton Plainsboro, or if it will make you feel more comfortable, we can go to another doctor."

“We?”

“Yup. Someone’s got to make sure you don’t weasel out of it again.”

Chase sighed.

“Still waiting for an answer.” House sing-songed, looking smug.

“Fine! I’ll call around tomorrow and try to find a doctor in the area.” Chase sulked, figuring he had bought himself a few weeks at least.

“Door number two, good choice. I had a feeling you’d pick that one so I’ve arranged for you to go see a colleague of mine tomorrow. You’ll like him, happily married, old, big hands. And just to make sure you keep that appointment, I’m spending the night here. Get within five feet of that door and I’m gnawing your leg off."

Chase sighed and fell backwards on to his yoga mat, flinging up an arm to cover his eyes. “You are such a bastard.”

House simply grinned and reached for the remote. “Do you get porn on this thing?”

-Ch 2-

Chase was pacing around the apartment, like a caged tiger.

House kept an eye on him but didn't say anything as Chase moved from room to room restlessly.

Chase paused frequently to glare at House before moving on again, aimlessly hovering from one spot to another, incapable of staying still for more than a minute at a time.

House sighed. It looked like he was going to be forced to distract the younger man. “What’s your bird’s name?”

Chase spun on his heel. “What?”

“Your bird.” House waved his cane in the direction of the bedroom. “He’s been screeching. I figure you either have a pet, or a really weird fetish.”

Chase blinked. “Oh. I guess I’ve had her so long I’ve gotten used to it. She’s a cockatiel. Her name’s Chexie. I got her when I was little.”

“Ahh.”

The blond began pacing again.

House waited till Chase got near again then hooked him with his cane and yanked him down onto the couch. "Sit down already, your making me dizzy."

Chase glared harder and tried to stand up again but House held him down. "It's my flat if I want to pace it I will. If it bothers you feel free to go home!"

House snorted. "Yeah and of course you'll be at your appointment in the morning and won't go running for the hills the moments I leave. Right. Sure. Tell me another one Blondie!"

Chase twisted away, backing to the far end of the couch.

"I'm a grown adult!” He argued. “I've taken care of my self for most of my life and I object to being treated like a child like this! I don't need you dragging me to a doctor; I don't need a doctor for that mater! Have I died yet? No! So clearly I'm doing something right!"

House rolled his eyes. "Tell me again how you made it though medical school?"

"What's so great about doctors anyway huh! What can they do that I haven't? If something were wrong I'd know! It's my body! You really expect if something was wrong a check up once a year would do anything?” “

“Chase, you have to go. They’re doctors. They’re not going to hurt you.”

“They’ll screw up!”

“No they won’t! I won’t let them. I’ll make sure they do everything right.” House tried speaking calmly, a skill he had never really mastered.

“You can’t do that! You couldn’t even make them save your own leg!" Chase snapped yanking him self out of House's grip on his shirt, he stumbled away from the couch, and glared down at the older doctor.

House's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

Chase swallowed nervously, feeling heat rush to the tips of his ears as he realized what he said. He stood his ground though, while House stared through him.

Chexie chose that moment to squawk loudly and rattle the door of her cage, and Chase gratefully turned towards his bedroom.

“I – I need to take care of her. She’s probably out of food.” He darted down the hall, trying to convince himself he wasn’t running from the quiet doctor sitting on his couch.

House sighed, and pulled himself to his feet. “Ingrate” he muttered.

-Ch 3-

House slammed the chart he was holding down on the desk and grabbed another one, nearly snarling.

Cuddy stormed up to him before he could yell for the patient and dragged him to the side. "House! While I'm happy that for once you're doing your job, you have to do it without making the patients cry! You're going to break your record of complaints, in a single day if you keep this up!"

House glared at her. "Oh make up your mind! Do you want me doing clinic hours or do you want me holding the whiny little babies’ hands and pretending to care about their feelings?"

Cuddy glared right back at him. "Both! Since that is your job! I know that's hard to believe but I want you to actually do the job I pay you to do!”

“My job is to diagnose and treat weird, freaky cases that morons like them," He waved a hand in the direction of the other doctors working in the clinic. "can't figure out, let alone cure! Not to listen to idiots whine about their runny noses!"

Cuddy was strapping her bitch on and getting ready to rip into House when she paused and frowned. "Wait a minute. What are you even doing here? You left to go tell Chase he can't duck out of his physicals anymore. You’re free until Wednesday."

“I just couldn’t stay away.” He gritted his teeth into a parody of a smile.

Cuddy merely rolled her eyes and House's demeanor darkened even further. "I did. Ungrateful, nasty little bitch. I'm done with coddling and hand holding him!"

Cuddy's eyebrow skyrocketed. "Something happened I presume?"

"Something happened I presume?" House mocked making a face. "Yes something happened. I went over there, fought with him, the little ingrate got nasty then hid in his room.”

“Well, what did you do then?”

“I left.”

“You left!” Cuddy asked, unbelievingly.

“He insulted me!” House defended himself.

Cuddy sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose before glaring at House again. "Well this can't go on. You told him he can't come back to work till he's been examined right?"

"Yes I told him!" House snarled.

"Stop taking your pissyness out on me and the patients! If Chase won't comply willingly just drug him and bring him in. It won't be the first time you've done it." Cuddy said with a pointed look. "We'll get him checked out and this whole thing will be over...till next year. It's like having a cat. You can either chase it around the entire house and get shredded to ribbons, or you just put some sleeping pills in their food.”

House gave her an outraged look. "Have you ever even had a cat! You can’t just drug him! He’d never trust us again!”

Cuddy gave him a disbelieving look. "Well then fine. You go back over there and talk him into it. One way or the other he needs to be examined. It's not healthy to go this long between exams, as he well knows!"

"...can never be considered a long time?"

"What?"

"Apparently Chase has never had a physical. He's always flirted his way out of exams. Or examined him self so he claims." House said the last part with an eye roll.

Cuddy stared then shook her head. "How does someone make it nearly 30 years without ever having a physical! He can not have flirted his way out of that many exams!"

"Somehow he has."

"House, do something. Either get him examined or I'll take matters into my own hands and have him knocked out and checked out!" Cuddy ordered before turning and stalked off to grab a chart and start doing her own clinic hours.

House made a face at her retreating back.

“I saw that!” She called back, without turning around. “And if you’re staying, you have a runny nose in exam room two.”

“Figures”. House muttered, patting down his pockets for his vicodin bottle.

--

Chase slowly opened the door and prepared to be yelled at, maybe some cane slamming into things, oh hell make that a lot of yelling and slamming. He blinked at the fact that there was no House outside his bedroom.

He edged out slowly, looking around as if expecting House to leap, yelling, out from behind something, wielding his can like an axe.

He was confused as he found no sign of House anywhere in his apartment.

House was gone. Chase cringed feeling wracked with guilt over what he'd said. House never would have left unless he was really upset.

Chase collapsed down onto his couch with a deep sigh. "God. I screw everything up don't I?" He ignored the ecstatic little voice in his head that reminded him he had gotten out of another physical. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be that easy.

-Ch 4-

Chexie silently watched Chase pace back and forth muttering to him self.

"Ok. Ok I can do this. What am I a man or mouse? It's just a physical. It's no big deal! I've done a hundred of them on patients, I can make it through one little exam!" He chewed on his cell phone antenna, trying to make himself believe his pep talk. It wasn’t working.

Chase had tried calling House over and over and was ignored every time. He knew House had taken the afternoon off, and he wasn’t in Chase’s apartment, so he had to be at his own house. He was probably just ignoring the calls, or worse, saving them to taunt him with later. He had spent all night staring at the phone, waiting for House to call and curse him out. His disappointment almost overrode his fear when he got a call early in the morning, reminding him of his 10 o’clock appointment.

Chase looked at his watch and twitched. 8:30/

"Everything will be fine, I just have to go and get the damned physical then I can come home and have a private break down!"

Chase jumped when Chexie squawked and he looked at her. "I take it your agreeing with me?"

She squawked again, flapping her wings.

Chase chuckled. "Alright, alright I'm going..."

He coaxed Chexie back into her cage, and dialed House’s number again, letting it ring until the answering machine picked up, and left one last message.

Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath and forced himself out the door. He was being silly, he told himself. What could possibly go wrong?

--

House slammed the alarm clock against the wall. He was still in a wombat-induced bad mood, and the fact that he had apparently forgotten he had taken the day off and set the alarm didn’t help much.

Against his better judgment he had stayed in the Clinic the rest of the day

Five runny noses, an outbreak of crabs, and a kid who thought quarters looked yummy. How the hell did people survive without him? By the time he left all he had wanted to do was take as many pills as medically possible and sleep, which is exactly what he did.

House sighed and rolled out of bed, not bothering to get dressed as he headed towards the living room. He was pretty sure the blinds were closed.

He headed towards Steve’s cage, making sure the rat had food and water before pulling his own breakfast, which consisted of a cold beer, out of the refrigerator. What the hell. He pulled out the makings of a sandwich as well. After the day he had, he deserved a fancy meal. He leaned over and hit the playback button on his answering machine as he assembled his sandwich.

Beep! "House? It's me. Chase. Uh look I'm sorry. I- I shouldn't have said that, it was mean and unnecessary and- and I just shouldn't have! It doesn't matter how scared I am I shouldn't have said something like-“

“Boring!” House decided, hitting the button again.

Beep! "House? It's me again. Look I know you're there it's your day off. House I'm really sorry please say something? House-“

House rolled his eyes and punched the button a third time, wondering how many more messages begging for forgiveness Chase had left.

Beep! "Ok this is the last time I'm calling. I just want you to know I know I'm an idiot and I-I'm fixing it. I'm going in to the hospital. ... sorry for calling. Bye."

House frowned at the answering machine. He chewed his sandwich slowly, thinking.

Chase had gone in. As panic stricken as he was, as piled with issues as he was, he'd gone in without being physically dragged, drugged, bribed, or threatened with being fired by House.

He sucked mayo off one finger as he tapped the fingers of his other hand against the counter he was leaning against. He remembered how Chase had been that night in the ER when he got his concussion, and every time someone mentioned going back to the hospital, and how... pitiful Chase had sounded when he told House about what his father had done to him.

House growled and grabbed his cane, tossing the remains of his sandwich into Steve’s cage and stalked for the front door, intending to go check up on his intensivist. No, to make sure he wasn’t giving the doctors a hard time, or throwing a hissy fit, or clinging to the light fixtures and refusing to come down.

He paused, and did a 180, heading for the bedroom. Clothes first, he reminded himself.

"God damn that high maintenance wombat!"

Steve squeaked in protest and House glared at the rat. "You stay out of this! You always take his side!"

-Ch 5-

Chase gnawed on his thumb nervously, bouncing his leg up and down as he sat on the hospital bed waiting for the doctor to come back.

He jumped slightly as a nurse came in and smiled comfortingly at him while she started grabbing things and moved to his side.

"What are you doing?" Chase asked keeping a nervous eye on her.

"Just starting a IV."

"IV? What for?" Chase asked gritting his teeth slightly as she used an alcohol pad to clean off a spot on her arm. He slammed his free hand down over his arm, guarding it from the needle in her hand.

"The doctor thought you were a bit...eh excited and wants to start a low dose of Ativan. Not a lot, just enough to calm you down a little." She gently nudged his hand, making him clamp down harder.

"But IV? Why not orally?" Chase asked frowning.

The nurse blinked at him startled. “I’m a doctor.” Chase snapped. He realized that wasn’t the best way to win the woman over and attempted to smile apologetically, though he was sure it came out more as a grimace.

The nurse laughed lightly. "Oh well I'm just following Dr. Gray's orders. But I'd assume it's because by IV it takes a few minutes to take affect and orally it takes 30 to 45 minutes. And the doctor probably wants you calm faster."

Chase scowled. “No Meds.”

“Excuse me?”

“No Meds.” Chase continued to watch the IV needle cautiously.

“But Dr. Gray-“

“I don’t care. I came for a physical, not to take drugs.”

“But it’s just a little something to help you relax.”

Chase gave her a hard look.

She sighed. “You have to take it!”

“No I don’t!”

The nurse clenched her jaw, but was saved from having to try and reason with her reluctant patient as the door swung open again. She turned to Dr. Gray.

“He’s refusing medication!” she accused.

Chase glared at her. “I don’t need anything. She’s trying to knock me out!”

Dr. Gray looked as if he was considering leaving the room, instead he took the IV from the nurse and peeled back Chase’s hand.

“Fine. No Ativan. But only if you let me hook up the Saline. You’re dehydrated and it will help.”

“No Ativan?” Chase asked.

“No Ativan.”

Chase sighed and held out his arm, flinching and turning his head as the needle slid in.

“Doctor!” Chase’s head snapped back around at the Nurse’s horrified exclamation. He felt the blood rush out of his face as he saw Dr. Gray toss an empty syringe into the orange hazard can. The doctor capped the IV line, and smiled apologetically.

“Dr. House gave me permission to take any steps necessary to finish the exam.” He patted Chase’s shoulder, trying not to feel guilty as he assured the younger man, frozen with fear. “By the time you wake up it’ll all be over, and you’ll see that there was nothing to worry about.”

Dr. Gray smiles sympathetically, if not a bit condescendingly. It seemed to have no effect on his patient and he jumped back quickly, away from the knee aimed for his groin

-Ch 6-

House stomped into the hospital, ignoring the small crowd that hurriedly parted to make way for him, headed torwards where he knew Chase would be, most likely, climbing the walls.

He nearly growled as a woman stepped in front of him blocking his path, trying to give him a stern look. He almost snorted. She was no Cuddy in the glare department. She wavered slightly, but didn’t back down.

"I'm sorry, you're not allowed back here, Sir. Why don't you tell me what you're looking for and I can help you find it?" She asked, in the false cheerful voice that House had heard nurses use to get rid of the homeless people who occasionally took up residence in their waiting rooms.

"My employee has a physical with Dr. Gray. Now move it before my cane finds a new home somewhere you really will not like it!" House barked.

The nurse looked ready to call security, when a voice called out, "House? What are you doing here?"

House completely ignored the nurse who paled and squeaked: "The House!" and turned to the approaching man. "Gray. Where's my Aussie?"

"..Auss- you mean Dr. Chase?" He looked at his watch. "He should be back in his room from the latest tests by now. I’d be delighted to transfer him to your care.”

“He give you any trouble?” House asked.

“No more than I expect from someone who’s been working for you.” Dr. Gray countered. “You could’ve warned me he kicks.”

“That’s my boy.”

“You must be so proud.” The older doctor rolled his eyes. “Come on I'll take you there."

House shot the nervous nurse a last death glare before following Dr. Gray down the hall.

"Here we are! Dr. Chase there's someone here to see...you?" Dr. Gray looked bewildered as they entered the room and found it empty.

House turned on the other doctor. "Wow what amazing medical skills you have! You've turned him invisible and mute! Now I'll never have to be blinded by that shiny hair of his, or listen to his whining again!"

Dr. Gray paled. "Uh. I'm sure they're just running a little behind! I-I'll go find them and have Dr. Chase back here any minute!" He said before quickly turning and disapeering down the hall.

House growled and stomped out of the room into the hall, heading for the nurse he had already terrified. They were always so much more helpful when they were scared.

Before he could go very far his cell phone rang. He swore and yanked it out of his pocket. "What!"

"Hey! You're not supposed to have that on in here!" The same nurse from before snapped. She reached for the phone.

House silenced her with a single glare, and kept her at bay with his cane.

"Hello?"

“What?” House repeated.

“Hello? Is this Raymond Hernandez’ emergency contact?”

House blinked.

The voice on the other end took his silence as an affirmative.

“I know this is highly unusual but uhm- well Raymond Hernandez didn’t have an emergency contact listed on his admittance form, but he seemed so upset I thought-“ The voice seemed to realize it was rambling and cut itself off, starting over. “This is Princeton General. Your number was listed on Mr. Hernandez’s cellphone as his I.C.E number, 'In Case of Emergency' number. He’s just gone into surgery.”

“What?” House realized he was starting to sound like a broken record.

“I know it’s not normal procedure to make a call to the emergency contact for a routine operation, but Mr. Hernandez became a little…agitated when we were administering the anesthesia and we thought it would be best if he had a familiar face when he woke up.

"WHAT!" House bellowed.

"...uhm. You do know a Raymond Hernandez don’t you?" The voice on the other end squeaked.

"You idiot! Where is he?"

“Excuse me?”

“Where. Is. HE!”

"Uh OR 2. Sir, are you-"

"Don’t touch him!” House ordered, snapping his phone closed and shoving it into his pocket.

“You!” He pointed his cane at the nurse, who had been slowly backing away.

“Take me to OR 2, now! Then get Dr. Gray, the Chief of Staff, and every lawyer this hospital employs there too.”

She stared at him.

“Now! You idiot!”

-Ch 7-

House stormed into the observation room, knocking over a doctor who was leaning against the window. He pressed against the glass, trying to catch a glimpse of the man being operated on. He swore as one of the nurses shifted, revealing a familiar face half hidden beneath the mask that was insuring the patient didn’t regain conciusness during the operation.

"What, the hell do you morons think you're doing!" House bellowed into the microphone, flinching as the group of doctor’s surrounding the table jumped. He could see blood on more than one glove.

“Who are you?” One of the doctors demanded.

"I'm the man who's saving your miserable asses by stopping you from cutting up the wrong person! That," House barked pointing at the blond, “Is not Raymond Hernandez. Does he even look like a Hernandez!”

The same Doctor called out quickly for of the nurses to alert security before turning back to the enraged man at the window.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but this is Mr. Hernandez, and he desperately needs this surgery, that you are postponing! You are the one who is endangering my patient.”

“He’s not your patient!” House argued.

“I have his file right here!” The Doctor had turned away from Chase, brandishing the bloody forceps at the window. The rest of the staff merely stared, frozen in shock at the scene that was quickly turning surreal.

“Screw his file!” House shrugged off the security guards who were trying to coax him away from the window. “Don’t look at his file, look at his face! Have you even looked at his goddamned face?”

The Doctor glanced at his patient’s face before glaring again at the man who had barged into his surgery. “Of course I’ve looked at his-“

The doctor trailed off, and House could’ve sworn he nearly went translucent. Slowly, he turned his head and looked back at the face of the young man on his table.

“oh shit.” He muttered weakly.

-Ch 8-

House leaned against the foot of Chase’s bed in the recovery room, rubbing his aching leg. He would have much rather been sitting down, but the only chair in the room, a hideous pink pleather recliner was currently wedged up against the door, keeping the doctors and nurses from getting into the room. He could have, of course, sat in the chair while it kept the doctors out, but it was way over by the door, while House had made sure Chase was as far from the door as humanly possible. So House merely leaned against the bed, scowling down at his young employee.

Exploratory Surgery. How the hell had a simple physical turned into exploratory surgery? Fortunately, they had just started, and had only cut an incision in to his side. House had to snicker at that sick definition of fortune, but it could have been worse. The young intensivist was still unconscious, recovering from the effects of the anesthesia and Antivan. Morphine had been added to the growing list of drugs currently in Chase’s system, but House supposed he wouldn’t mind so much once he found out about the hole in his side.

He scowled again and dug out his phone, dialing Cuddy’s office.

“Cuddy?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Get Wilson and the other ducklings in your office and set up a conference call with my cell phone.” He hung up on her, and set his own phone to conference before setting it on the bedside table.

He tucked the covers more tightly around Chase’s legs as he waited for Cuddy to call him back.

The phone rung, and before House had barely had time to push the talk button he was being questioned by his boss.

“Okay House, We’re all here. Now will you tell us why we’re all here, instead of doing our jobs?”

"I didn’t say “Simon says: assemble the troops.” Sorry, BUZZZ, but thank you for playing.”

“House!”

“Spoilsport. “

“House,” Cuddy sounded exasperated. “We don’t have time for games.”

“Not even pin the malpractice suit on Princeton General Hospital? Aww, I was looking forward to that.”

“House,” It was Wilson’s turn to sound frustrated, though somewhat amused. “What are you talking about?”

“They mixed up the files. Evidently some Raymond Hernandez got Chase’s physical, and Chase got his surgery. They had him doped to the gills, and were gutting him like a fish.”

House winced at the unintentional pun. “They were doing exploratory surgery.” He explained simply.

He silently counted off on his fingers in the silence till there was a deafening shout of “WHAT!"

House looked up as Chase flinched away from the noise, but didn’t wake up.

"He’s fine by the way. We're in recovery and he should be waking up any time now."

"House what the hell is going on! What is Chase doing in the hospital!" That was Foreman, sounding angry and concerned at the same time.

"He was supposed to have his physical but he he uh…”

House decided to gloss a bit. “He decided he’d rather have it done here. He didn’t really like the idea of being a patient in his own hospital.”

He heard Wilson snort and glared at the small phone. He continued, hoping the others would ignore his friend.

“Either that, or he found out they were drawing straws on who got to see him naked.”

--

Cuddy leaned over the phone looking both angry and nauseated at the same time. "I assume you’ve become his primary doctor?”

“Damn straight.”

“Do you feel comfortable keeping him there, considering – considering what happened? He might not like the idea of being a patient here, but it sounds a hell of a lot better than staying there. ”

Foreman looked sick but shook his head focusing. "We should have him transferred back here right away before anything else can go wrong."

“Foreman’s right.” Cuddy agreed. “We can have an ambulance sent as soon as you think it’s safe to transfer him.”

It was House’s turn to snort. “Somehow I don’t think that’s going to work. I don’t even know how I’m going to convince him to not make a break for it before his meds wear off.”

“House, he just had surgery. I don’t think he cares who sees him naked at this point. Just get him here as soon as possible.”

Wilson flinched and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh that might be a problem. Chase has...uh issues." He tried to explain, since House clearly wasn’t going to.

"Issues? What kind of issues?" Cameron asked. Her eyes were wide and watery.

"Whatever it is, it can't be as important as getting Chase somewhere safe." Foreman insisted.

Wilson sighed.

"Tell them." House ordered through the phone.

Wilson sighed again. "Chase uh. Well he was traumatized as a child. He has a hospital phobia."

"A doctor has a phobia of hospitals?” Cuddy asked incredulously.

"It's not the hospitals them selves. It's being a patent."

Foreman started to argue again but Cuddy stopped him with a raised hand.

"Enough. Whatever issues Chase has, and now suddenly that scene in the ER makes a hell of a lot more sense, if Chase just had surgery he needs to be in the hospital for at least a little while, and I want him here. I'll send a ambulance over to pick you two up and bring you back."

---

House rolled his eyes. His boss never listened. His attention was suddenly diverted as the heart rate monitor sped up. It sounded like his little duckling had decided naptime was over.

House abandoned the phone and leaned closer as Chase began to stir.

Suddenly the alarms on the monitors started blaring and Chase's eyes popped open, wide in panic.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down! You're fine! You're fine!" House snapped, leaning over Chase, pushing him back down on the bed.

House ignored the panicked questions coming from the phone, keeping his attention focused on the young man.

Chase’s breath was hitching, and he started to gasp, trying to escape the force pinning him down.

“Chase! Stop! Breathe! Come on, you have to breathe, calm down. It’s okay, it’s okay. Just breathe.” House tried to keep his own voice calm, and slowly Chase stopped struggling, drawing in shallow breaths. “That’s it. That’s good. Nice and slow. You’re fine.”

“Antivan” Chase whispered, reaching for the IV line. House grabbed the hand. “gave me…” the blond tried to explain haltingly “antivan. Told ‘em not to”

“dammit.” House muttered to himself. “It’s okay,” He reassured Chase. “It’s okay. You’re fine. I’ll make sure they don’t give you anything else. Now just calm down, you’re going to rip your stitches, and you’re setting off the alarms. You don’t want to scare the nurses do you?”

House’s attempt at comfort didn’t have the affect he had intended. The machines began to blare again at the mention of stitches. Chase, who had been trying to get away only moment’s before, now had House’s arm in a death grip.

“stitches. They were going to- I heard them-“ He couldn’t form a complete sentence through the haze of morphine and terror.

“Going to, operate.” Chase’s chest started to heave again, and as if on cue the recliner screeched loudly as the door was pushed open and the room began to fill with hospital personnel.

“House!” The young intensivist cried out, rocketing up, and promptly collapsing against his boss as the fresh wound protested the treatment. “Don’t,” he pleaded. “Don’t, House, please, don’t let them.” Chase began repeating the same words, asking for House’s protection as he tried to move closer. He was trembling so hard House could feel the bed shake.

House grabbed him, pulling him closer in spite of his training and the fresh blood beginning to stain the white sheets.

“Get out of here! All of you! You’re only making it worse.”

The doctors and nurses hovered uncertainly, as if unable to cross some imaginary line to get to their patient’s side.

“Get the hell out of here! As his doctor I am ordering you. Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Amazingly they obeyed and he turned back to the scared young man. “They’re leaving. See? It’s okay. They’re gone. They won’t get you. It’s okay, I promise it’s okay.” He kept up the litany, tucking Chase’s head under his chin. “Shh. It’s all right now. Calm down okay, we’re going to be just fine.”

--

“You’re okay Chase. I won’t let them do anything. Trust me Chase, you’re okay.”

The conference room was quiet, House’s reassurances sounding loud in the large room, even over the small speakers, and the fact that the words weren’t meant for the people staring at the phone.

Cameron’s hand was clenched on to Wilson’s arm and her knuckles were white, and Wilson and Foreman both looked like they were on the verge of being sick.

Cuddy swallowed thickly.

“I’ll go alert the transport team.” She said quietly, reaching over and disconnecting the call.

-Ch 9-

Chase’s grip on House’s arm tightened as the ambulance turned. Despite the rules Chase wasn’t strapped down on the gurney. One look at the black straps and Chase had nearly bolted, planting an elbow into House’s rib in the process. The wombat was awfully feisty for a trauma patient House had decided ruefully.

He had managed to convince the EMTS they weren’t necessary after failing to convince his intensivist that they were. House was sure the bondage crack would’ve won him over, but he only succeeded in earning himself a drugged glare.

House focused on the EMT near the back who was beginning to fidget. He was obviously thinking about trying to get near Chase again. "If you so much as twitch, you’re fired” House warned casually, not wanting to alarm Chase by screaming at the personnel they were riding with.

The EMT frowned. "We should be monitoring him."

"I'm his doctor, I'm taking care of him, now get still.”

The EMTs sank back looking more then slightly scared and suddenly found their shoes fascinating. Chase smiled in faint amusement, but kept his eyes on their folded hands.

The ambulance came to a halt and Chase's grip on House got tighter and the slight amusement he'd gained disappeared.

The EMTs wisely stayed where they were as the doors opened revealing Cuddy, Wilson, Cameron and Foreman. House had asked them to meet the ambulance. None of them were wearing their lab coats. House figured it might make things a little less stressful.

Chase looked balefully at House. “This isn’t home.” He accused quietly.

“I never said I was taking you home.” House argued.

“Said, we were going someplace safe.”

House rolled his eyes. Aussie logic.

“Trust me, this is safe.”

“hmph.” Chase didn’t sound convinced.

He gestured to the other doctors, standing at the doors. "Come on lets get him inside."

Chase yelped as the gurney moved and he let go of House’s arm in surprise. He began to panic as the gurney slid out of the ambulance, taking him further away from his boss.

Foreman and Cameron jumped as the monitors squalled, pushing in close to the patient "What is it? Does something hurt!"

"Oh God he's bleeding! His stitches"

House, using Wilson as a crutch scrambled out of the ambulance a bit ungracefully and pushed his employees out of the way.

He grabbed Chase’s shoulder. “Right here. I’m here.” He reassured him. "It's fine, back off! Just keep moving before he has a coronary here in the ambulance bay. Try not to hover so much. Cuddy, tell me you have a private room.” House’s voice threatened violence if she didn’t.

"Yes I have everything set up. Let move out people!" Cuddy said shortly.

Cameron looked hurt and Foreman annoyed but they backed off as Wilson started pushing the gurney into the hospital.

Chase for his part latched on to House again and tried to stay as still as possible. He vaguely remembered that t-rexes couldn’t see you if you stayed still, and part of his morphine fogged brain wondered if the same principle worked with doctors. God, he hoped so.

-Ch 10-

Cameron had the look in her eye. The look that said she desperately wanted to coddle and comfort the poor suffering person in front of her. Only problem was, every time she tried to get near, Chase would start panicking and House would hit her with his cane. The other doctors fared little better, though Wilson was allowed slightly closer, as long as kept his hands to himself.

"Chase I'm not going anywhere. I just have to talk to the other nice co-workers. And since you won’t let them come over here, I need to over there. Wilson keep him company, I’ll give you all the juicy details later.”

Chase looked upset.

"Oh stop it! It's Wilson! There is no one on the planet more harmless or nice! People thank him for telling them they're dying! Suck it up!" House snapped.

Chase scowled and tried to edge away from the Oncologist.

House rolled his eyes, and put his cane on the bed. “Here, if he gets too close, beat him.” Chase looked at Wilson again and moved the cane to the other side of his bed as if he feared the doctor was going to make a dive for it. House snickered and moved to the far end of the room with Cuddy, Foreman and Cameron.

"Alright so what happened! How could a simple physical turn into...this!”? Cuddy demanded.

"Apparently Chase was skittish, Gray ordered Ativan, Chase refused, Gray gave it to him anyway, something got mixed up and our little wombat wound up getting sliced open. The Antivan wore off as the Anesthesia kicked in, so he heard them prepping him for surgery. Now he's drugged out of his head, scared out of his mind, and so far gone he's not even able to keep up his normal pretense of 'I'm fine! Who needs medical attention! I can do my own physicals!' “

Cameron looked over at Chase. "Oh God that's horrible! How can we help him?"

"By staying away. Doctors freak him. Yeah yeah yeah I know he is one." He said, seeing the look on Foreman's face. "Apparently his phobia is fine when he's the one playing doctor, but the moment you get him into a hospital bed, he's flipping out."

“But you’re a doctor.” Foreman pointed out.

“Yeah, well apparently I don’t act like one.”

They all looked over at Chase who scowled druggedly at all of them, before whipping back around to glare at Wilson and slap a hand over his IV port as the doctor got to close. Wilson held up his hands and backed off.

House snorted and rolled his eyes. "You can expect a lot of freaking, and demands to go home from him.”

"Shouldn’t he be given a sedative? He’s already torn his stitches once.” Foreman was always one to take the practical approach.

“No. No drugs. Tell him everything you plan to do, and if he says no, listen to him.”

“He’s just had major surgery!”

“Which is why he’s in a hospital.”

Foreman refused to let the issue rest. “So you’re telling us to take our orders from a patient who’s so doped up he can’t even think straight.”

“He’s not a patient, he’s a doctor.” House snapped.

“Excuse me, you want us to take our orders from a doctor who’s so doped up he can’t even see straight?”

“You take orders from me!” House noticed Cameron’s lips twitch in amusement and smirked. Self-effacing druggie humor always worked. That made one duckling on his side.

Cuddy stepped in. “Can you to finish your pissing contest later? I think Doctor Chase needs medical attention. I think it might be better if we leave House to see to that. ” Turning to the remaining ducklings she continued. “House’s orders stand, for now, as long as it doesn’t endanger the patient.” She ushered the two young doctors out.

House gave Cuddy a grateful look and Cuddy gave him one promising there would be much more talking later, leaving House alone with Chase and Wilson.

House went back to Chase's bed and lowered him self into a chair with a grunt.

Wilson gave him a small smile from the other side of the bed where he'd give up trying to draw Chase into a conversation, and was just trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

House poked Chase. "Alright, time to see how much damage you did to your self with your constant escape attempts. Wilson, go get me some stuff. Suture kits, disinfectants, bandages, yada, yada. You know."

Wilson nodded getting up to fetch the requested items. Chase sighed in relief as he left.

“Stop that.” House scolded. “You’re going to hurt his feelings.”

Chase scowled at House. "I have a first aid kit at home.”

“You’re not going home.”

“Don’t need a hospital.” Chase argued.

House was amused by how much his intensivist currently resembled a petulant toddler.

“Tell that to the gaping hole in your side.” House batted Chase’s hands away and pulled open the gown, starting to remove the bandages.

“Hospital’s fault.”

"Yes well this is a much better hospital, and I'm a much, much, much better doctor."

Chase sighed staring up at the ceiling. "House I don't want to be here..." He said plaintively.

House was saved by Wilson coming back with a rolling tray containing the medical supplies. Wilson winced at the long red cut and took the soiled bandages from House.

Wilson stayed back as much as possible to avoid upsetting Chase while House quickly surveyed the damage, then cleaned and restitched the incision. He kept an eye on the monitors.

After a few quiet moments House pulled back.

"Alright no organs have fallen out yet, but you have to lay still, stay clam, and heal if you want your little wombat-y ass to ever get out of here!" House ordered peeling off the bloody gloves.

He looked up in alarm when Chase didn’t respond.

“He fell asleep halfway through.” Wilson said quietly, handing his friend a bottle of water and a vicodin. He nodded to the hand that had snuck out, snagging the hem of House’s shirt. “Looks like you’ve been elected teddy bear.”

House threw back the vicodin, and slumped down into the chair.

“Shut up.” He snapped.

-Ch 11-

House shifted in his seat with a small pained grunt, and popped another Vicodin. The hospital chairs weren’t getting any more comfortable, and after – house checked his watch: 11:30 – 24 hours he was starting to believe his ass was going to be permenantly numb.

Chase looked over guiltily and gnawed on his lower lip for a moment before speaking. "Go. You should go."

House raised an eyebrow. "What? Kicking me out all of a sudden?"

"It's my fault you're in pain. Your leg... sitting here all night can't have helped it. You should go home. I-I'll be fine."

House snorted. "Says the man who panicked when I had to go to the bathroom."

Chase got a strange expression, a combination of a scowl and a blush. "That was yesterday. I was extremely medicated. I'm lucid now and I'm fine."

“That was three hours ago.”

Chase muttered.

"And what happens when a nurse or doctor wanders in here to check on you?" Chase flinched and the beeping of the heart monitor increased. "That's what I thought."

Chase scowled again. "Well if I was at home in my own bed I would not have this problem!"

House rolled his eyes again not even bother to get into that argument with him again.

Chase sighed, shifting in his bed and winced. "Ok, now I'm kinda missing being stoned off my ass..."

House snorted in amusement and leaned over and adjusted the IV drip. "I increased your morphine. That should help."

Chase glared at the IV. "Do I really need this? Can't I take pills or something?"

"So you're swallower not a spitter? Good to know." House snarked. “And what makes you think I’d give you the right pills any sooner than I’d give you the right IV.”

Chase rolled his eyes sinking lower in the bed with a sigh.

-Ch 12-

Chase tried to focus on his breathing, to keep him self calm, but it wasn't working. He'd finely convinced House he'd be fine while House went and grabbed a short nap in his office and a shower.

He'd lied. He was not at all in any way fine. He was a nervous wreck.

So far he'd managed to keep him self from a full-blown panic attack, but that was only because no one had come near his room so far. He didn't know what he would do if someone actually came in when he had no House to beat them off.

His brain was telling him he was being stupid and irrational, but the pain in his side was telling his brain to shut up. At the moment Chase was more inclined to listen to his side.

But really, he was a doctor. He could remain calm in stressful situations, right?

Wrong, he decided as the door swung open, admitting Cameron and Foreman. Chase bit down on his lip and tried to ignore his instant panic reaction.

"Uh hi Chase. We, um just wanted to see how you were doing..." Cameron said hesitantly both of them not getting too close to his bed.

"Fine. I'm fine." A sudden thought came to Chase and he pushed him self up, ignoring the stab of pain, and threw off his bedding, pasting a bright smile on his face. "In fact I'm going home. House released me. He's signing me out right now.” Chase was vaguely aware that he was babbling, but he kept going.

“Could you do me a huge favor and grab some of my extra shirts and pants from my locker? Or some scrubs or something? I hate these gowns. Don't know how I'll ever be able to make a patient wear then ever again!" Chase joked sitting on the edge of the bed, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Cameron and Foreman exchanged looks and Cameron stepped closer to the bed while Foreman stepped closer to the door, One trying to help, the other trying to cut off his escape route.

Cameron paused uncertainly as Chase flinched away. Unfortunately, the movement only caused Foreman to block the door entirely.

"Maybe we should wait for House..."

"No! I mean..House would be annoyed over having to wait. You know how he is."

Chase ignored Foreman, zeroing in on Cameron. He gave her his best ‘little-boy-lost’ smile.

Foreman narrowed his eyes looking at Chase. "If you're being discharged why are you still on a IV?"

"Uh...House hates work and uh I just didn't bother to do it my self. But now is a great time!" Chase said far too cheerfully peeling the tape off and started to pull the needle out of his arm.

"What the hell are you doing!" House barked entering the room, his hair still wet from the shower. The door smacked into Foreman who scowled at his boss.

Chase flinched, freezing and tried to look innocent. "Er.. It slipped?"

House favored him with a glare. “Put that back in.”

He waited until Chase complied and then turned on the other two doctors. "And what are you two idiots doing? Just standing there watching him make an escape attempt?"

"He said you were releasing him!" Foreman snapped, rubbing his elbow.

House rolled his eyes. "Yes I'm releasing him one night after being gutted like a fish! Moron!"

“Well we knew he was lying.” Foreman defended their actions.

“And you told us not to get near him.” Cameron added.

Chase gave them both a hurt look.

House taped down the IV, and began to check the stitches.

“New rule. If he touches the IV, tackle him and restrain his ass. Use the big scary straps.”

House looked at his two employees and sighed. They looked like small, little lost ducklings. It made him uncomfortable.

“Don’t you two have clinic hours or something?” He asked, dismissing them. He waited until they left before smacking Chase upside the head.

"I can't leave you alone for even an hour can I?"

"Oh like you didn't know I would try..." Chase snorted, rubbing his head.

"Hmpf."

Chase picked at the tape on his arm.

House smacked him again.

Chase sighed and obediently kept his hands by his side.

“Good puppy.” House ruffled his hair, flopping back down into the chair.

-Ch 13-

Wilson walked past the office reading a file, then stopped and slowly backed up and looked in. He pulled open the door and walked in giving House a bewildered look. "What are you doing in here? I thought you were super glued to Chase's side?"

House glanced up then went back to looking at his computer screen. "I was. Found a way to be comfortable and make sure he doesn't escape at the same time. I put a camera in his room. And a speaker." He pushed a button on a walkie-talkie and barked. "Hands off that IV!" They both saw Chase give the camera a death glare, but obediently put his hands back down.

Wilson chuckled. "Nice set up.”

“Thanks.” House pushed out a chair, motioning for him to take a seat. Once Wilson was sitting he threw a thick folder in to his lap. “Legalese. I think Princeton General is begging us not to sue.”

Wilson hefted the heavy stack of papers. “Already? You must have scared them.”

“Hmph.” House looked at the monitor and picked up the walkie-talkie again. “Hands were I can see them, mister!” Chase responded by holding up his middle finger to the camera.

“He seems determined to leave.” Wilson observed.

“And yet he’s still there.”

“But for how long? Chase is very clearly completely unhappy with being in the hospital, and watching him like a hawk in between panic attacks can only last so long."

"Yeah well, lets take it only step at a time."

"Hmm..."

"What?" House eyed Wilson, taking in his thinking look.

"Mmm? Oh nothing. I just-“ Wilson trailed off and stood up abruptly, throwing the folder back on the desk and strolling out of the room.

House rolled his eyes and turned back to the monitor. The Wombat Show, as he had dubbed it, had turned out to be surprisingly interesting.

There was just one thing missing. He picked up his tennis ball and tossed it at the window to get his employees’ attention.

“Oi! Foreman. Popcorn.”

--

Chase jumped then hissed in pain as the door to his room opened. House rolled his eyes and stalked over to whack him. "Stop it!"

Chase scowled at House, then nervously eyed Wilson and Cuddy.

“Be nice.” House warned.

“Why are you here?”

"Don't ask me. Ask Wilson; he called this little get together. This is his party." House said sitting down and putting his feet up on the side of Chase's bed, with a wicked grin. He bounced his foot sharply as Chase began to pick at the tape on his arm again. Chase sighed and began fiddling with House’s shoelaces. He had found out earlier it was the only thing he could play with without getting yelled at.

Wilson cleared his throat then started. "Well uh I've been thinking. Clearly things can't stay the way they are. Chase is in a constant state of stress and he's not going to recover like that, House can't stay here 24/7 and Chase won't let anyone else near him."

Chase flinched and looked embarrassed and guilty as Wilson spoke. Then he blinked and looked up sharply. “I can go home?” He translated, voice sounding excited.

"No!” Cuddy snapped, squelching the tiny ray of hope.

She ignored his wounded look and turned to the one doctor she had thought had some sense. “Chase just had major surgery! Whether he likes it or not he needs medical attention. He needs to be under medical supervision. He's already ripped his stitches out once, he could bleed to death if it happens again!" Cuddy insisted.

"I can take care of my self! I've stitched my self up before!" Chase insisted again.

They ignored him. He scowled and tied House’s shoelaces together.

"Well that's where my idea comes in. Chase can go home. With House. He's comfortable with House, and House is a doctor and can take care of him, as long as they take some medical supplies."

"Chase is going to need a lot of care, for weeks at the very least! As concerned for Chase as I am, House still has a job to do! He can't be away from work taking care of his employee for that long! Not even one that’s technically his patient."

"Well uh you see you may not have a choice." Wilson said biting, his lip to suppress a grin. "I checked. There's a rule that you're allowed time off to take care of a sick or injured spouse."

"And it's not our fault that New Jersey doesn't recognize our love!" House declared dramatically pulling his legs off the bed and leaning forward to grasp a clearly confused Chase's hand. Chase frowned and yanked his hand away.

“Turns out the hospital has a significant other clause for just such occasions.” Wilson chimed in helpfully.

Cuddy stared open mouthed at the three of them then sighed and rubbed her forehead. "You know what? I don't care. Fine.”

Wilson snickered, and she turned on him

“Since this is your brilliant plan you get to help House take care of Chase.”

It was House’s turn to snicker.

“It’s a good idea anyway. House can not do this completely on his own so Chase will just have to learn to deal with Wilson like he deals with House.”

Chase looked at Wilson uncertainly, and reached back out unconsciously to grab the cuff of House’s shirt.

Cuddy sighed. “Get a list of what you need together. And I still expect him to stay, until you’re absolutely sure it’s safe to move him.”

House gave her a sloppy salute and waved as she left. “She took that better than I thought.”

Chase stared from the door, to his hand, which House was holding again, to Wilson. "...What just happened here?"

House let go of Chase sitting back with a smirk. “We just came out of the closet.”

Chase blinked at him.

"You got your wish Wombat! You're going home!" He stopped and tilted his head. "And I got a wife. Gosh I hooked my self a pretty one."

-Ch 14-

"This is insane! No one's going to believe House and I are married!"

"No? You forgetting pretty much everyone already thinks we're dating? Almost as many people who think Wilson are I are an old married couple. You should see the betting pools! There's shipper wars! A lot of people are going to be getting very rich off this." House grinned wider. "And lucky, lucky me I'm one of them!"

"...you bet that we're a couple?"

"Duh. Got in on it right after I found out about Wilson's plan!"

“But you’re the one they’re betting on… That’s not fair.”

House shrugged. “I ordered Cameron to place the bets.”

“I want half.”

“I already promised Cameron half.”

“Then I want half of your half.” He countered.

House snorted.

Chase rolled his eyes then shook his head. "This is stupid. I'm a doctor, so by default I'm always under a doctor’s supervision. I'll be fine. If we need to let Cuddy think you're with me fine, but it's completely un-necessary for you to actually be there!"

"Just give up. You're not going to win, and I'm not spending the next week arguing with you until I let you out!" House ordered.

"A week!" Chase squawked trying to sit up.

House shoved him back down glaring at him. "At the very least. Keep going and I add time. You're not going anywhere until you’re no longer in danger of ripping out your stitches and dying if you sneeze!"

Chase huffed giving up on that argument for now. "I still don't think anyone will buy House and me as a married couple." He complained to Wilson.

"What? Because you're such a manly man?" House asked smirking.

"No, because who in their right mind would marry you?" Chase snarked right back at him.

"Awww! I'm crushed! Wilson! Can you believe how my life partner is speaking to me! I'm going to have emotional scars!" House sniffed, hiding his glee that Chase was getting snarky with him again.

Wilson just grinned and stayed out of it.

Chase smirked at House. "Plus every one knows we broke up already. Remember all the dates I got out of that?" Chase smiled fondly at the memory.

House sniffed. "A brief separation. For some reason I decided to take you back and marry your slutty ass. You must be a good lay."

Chase let out a bark of laughter. "Please. Clearly I took you back despite the way you broke my heart and left me wounded and seeking comfort it hot nurse arms.”

“And I'm a fantastic lay." He added.

"You must be, I took you back after you slutted your way though the whole hospital nursing staff! That’s love."

Chase opened his mouth, then stopped and pouted realizing he'd lost. "Do we have to tell the others about your plan?"

"You bet your ass. In fact we're registered at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Do you have any idea the wedding shower presents doctor's give? They're loaded!"

“House!”

“Oh come on. There’s a mixer on that list. It even tells you how to make drinks!”

Chase pouted, then smirked. “Fine, but I expect a ring. A Nice one! With diamonds.”

"Ah-ha! You're just after me for my money! I should have known!"

Chase sniffed haughtily. "Please. Like I need your money. I'm Mr. Yachting and Polo Pony remember? Maybe you're after my money! You gold digging hussy!"

Wilson sat back watching in amusement as House and Chase bickered over who broke up with who, and who was the gold-digger in the relationship. Chase seemed to have completely forgotten he was supposed to be having a nervous breakdown over being in the hospital.

Wilson would never admit it to House’s face but damn he was good!

-Ch 15-

Chase blinked woozily up at the ceiling.

He could see House and Wilson moving around his head, and it took a minute for him to realize he wasn't in the hospital room that'd been his prison for the last 4 days. From the hallway Chexie screeched, letting the intruders know she wasn’t happy at being removed from the room. Chase frowned. He knew she would be upset, but Wilson had put his foot down. He tried to tell him that Chexie was cleaner than House, but no one ever listened to him.

Still though, they had let him come home.

A happy, more then slightly dopey smile appeared on his face.

House looked down and smiled. "Looks like our little princess is finely awake."

"Hey. Home. Wow. I love my home. Home is good."

House snickered and checked the IV line hanging from the stand they'd bought to his apartment, among other medical equipment. "Still feeling no pain I see?"

"No. Uhmmm.. Yeeeah. I feel...good. Really good. Did I mention I love my home?" Chase said happily.

House exchanged amused looks with Wilson. "I'm so glad I talked him into being drugged up for the trip home."

Wilson nodded, chuckling, moving away from the head of the bed.

Chase blinked and tried to focus though the drug induced haze. "Um. So everything went...good?"

"Yep. We drugged you to the gills, we moved you, and we settled you in with no problems. Well, I think we freaked out your neighbors.”

“Didn’t like them anyway.” Chase muttered. He blinked at the empty table near his bed.

“Chexie?”

“Living room.”

“Oh.”

Chase went back to staring at the familiar ceiling. He smiled happily. "Hoooome! I'm home!"

House snorted sitting down in a comfy chair placed next to Chase's bed. "I don't think we're going to get anything more coherent out of him for a while."

"Hey! I'm perfectly coherent! I'm just...happy. Relieved. ...and kinda stoned." Chase defended him self.

House snickered. "Go back to sleep. You could use the rest, now that for the first time in almost a week you're not stressed."

Chase made a happy sighing noise and wiggled down more comfortably in his bed and quickly dozed off again.

House looked over at Wilson sitting next to him and smirked. "You know this is going to be even more like having a toddler then when Chase had his concussion."

Wilson sighed and leaned his head back against the chair. "You're still the mom."

"Nuh-uh. Husband remembered. You’re the mom now.”

“So that makes me your mother in law?”

House snorted. “Knew there was a reason I didn’t like you.”

--

House played with his game boy with the sound on mute while Wilson read a medical journal, both sitting next to Chase's bed side, keeping a eye on the sleeping intensivist.

House huffed as his game avatar died his final life, and pulled his large tennis ball from the night table to toss at Wilson's head.

Wilson's hand shot up and grabbed it before it could hit him and dropped it onto his lap without looking up from his journal.

House whined.

Wilson snorted.

House whacked him in the shin with his cane.

Wilson yelped and dropped the book to glare at House. "What!"

"I'm hungry, mom." House playfully whined.

Wilson snorted and rolled his eyes. "I'm his," he pointed at the sleeping Chase. "mother, not yours."

"Awww! But I'm your adorable, charming son-in-law!"

Wilson nearly choked laughing.

House huffed trying to look mortally offended.

Both jumped, startled when Chexie squawked loudly, and crankily, from the hall.

Chase's eyes popped open and he sat up, causing the doctors to jump again.

He threw off his blanket and sat up, and moved to get out of bed.

House promptly pushed him back down glaring. "What are you doing, you idiot?"

"Chexie. I have to feed her and change her water. It's been days and I don't think the auto thing last this long." Chase explained trying to get up again.

House rolled his eyes and kept his hand on Chase's chest, holding him down. "You are deeply stupid. You're 4 days past being cut open! I thought the whole reason we let you come home was so you would stop trying to escape.

"But...Chexie..." Chase whispered plaintively giving him large puppy eyes. Stoned puppy eyes.

House glared at him.

"It's ok Chase. Go back to sleep. I'll take care of her." Wilson assured Chase sticking a slip of paper into the book to mark his page, and then dropping it into the dresser with House's ball.

"You will?" Chase turned the puppy eyes on Wilson.

Wilson nodded quickly. "I'm going now."

"Oh...good." Chase mumbled before drifting off again.

House snorted and grabbed his ball. He thought for a moment and stole Wilson’s book as well, sliding it under Chase’s mattress.

“SHIT!”

He jumped yet again as he heard Wilson scream, followed by a more avian screech and a loud metallic bang. He automatically threw out an arm to keep Chase in the bed. House looked uncertainly between the wide-eyed intensivist and the hallway, torn between keeping his employee down and saving his friend what sounded like certain bird induced death.

His problem was solved when Wilson stumbled back into the room, a cockatiel hanging from his tie and yelling, beating the bewildered doctor with her wings.

“Wilson!” Chase cried out accusingly. At the sound of her master’s voice, Chexie abandoned her attack and flew to his bed, landing on top of his head. He lifted his hand and she cuddled up against it.

“That” Wilson panted. “is not a bird. That is a demon from the depths of hell.”

Chase scowled at him and Chexie hissed, spreading her wings menacingly.

Wilson backed up.

“What did you do?” House asked, reaching out and scratching Chexie behind her head. She bit him gently but allowed herself to be picked up, fluttering to hop to his shoulder.

“Nothing! I didn’t do anything. She attacked me!”

“You probably deserved it.” House defended the bird, settling back in to play on his game boy again.

Wilson snorted and flopped down in his seat. Chexie gave him a final hiss and turned her back, snuggling down against House’s neck.

Wilson ignored the bird and looked around. “House… where’s my book?”

-Ch 16-

House groaned, stretching as he woke up, seriously regretting falling asleep sitting up on the couch after Wilson had gone home. He blindly popped a Vicodin, more from muscle memory than conscious thought, then opened his eyes and blinked down at the blanket covering him. He didn’t remember a blanket earlier, and he was still awake when Wilson left.

He looked down when he saw a flash of blond and rolled his eyes when he realized Chase was asleep, sitting on the floor, curled up against the couch, with a pillow clutched to his stomach. The corner of the blanket was tucked around him.

He reached down and gave Chase a sharp poke in the shoulder.

Chase groaned. "Robert Chase. 27. New Jersey. George B-." He paused and his eyes blinked open, “What do you want?” He asked House suspicisiously.

House let out a snort of amusement. "What the hell are you doing out of bed!"

Chase yawned, waking up. He blushed. "Uh well I came out to get a drink...and you were asleep and looked cold so..."

"We'll ignore for the moment the fact that you're supposed to be staying in bed, why didn't you just grab a blanket out of the closet then go back to bed?"

"I don't have another blanket. Normally if I have company they're in bed with me." Chase admitted, looking embarrassed.

House rolled his eyes. "Alright so we've covered that, now onto why you're out of bed in the first place? Hello what are you not getting about being shoved back into bed every five minutes?"

"I've been in bed for days. I'm sick of bed. And I needed to change positions anyway." Chase said shifting while he spoke, curling in more towards the pillow he held.

"I thought good Catholics were only allowed to use one?"

"Yes and we also have to lay back and think of England." He answered sarcastically.

"Ah ha! Knew you were British!"

"But luckily for me I'm not a good Catholic. Would I be marrying you if I was?" Chase asked in amusement choosing to ignore the British comment.

House grinned at Chase's comment. "Still shouldn't be out of bed, even if you needed to move. You still have a gaping chest wound you know."

"It's in the side of my abdomen, and it's not gaping! It's healing fine!"

"I'm your doctor and if I say it's gaping it's gaping!"

Chase rolled his eyes.

House started to absentmindedly run his fingers though Chase's hair.

Chase sighed lightly and leaned against the couch. "You know uh...I've been meaning to thank you. This...was bad. Even worse then when I had the concussion. I've been...well insane. And it would have been worse if you weren't there. Although on the other hand it was your fault I was in the hospital, and you told Dr. Gray to take any steps necessary to finish the exam, so I ended up drugged and operated on.”

“I didn’t think he’d actually listen to me.”

“Which is why I’m not murdering you violently in your sleep.”

“Thanks so much.”

“You’re welcome. But other then that I suppose you did help me..."

"Wow Chase stop. You're making me blush with your wild gushing." House snorted.

Chase glanced up. "Well don’t try to deny it. I seem to remember you sitting on this very couch in this very living room telling me I had an appointment and wasn't getting out of it. And what happened then? It's a bit fuzzy due to the horror and trauma and drugs."

“You threw a glass of wine in my face and threatened me with your high heels”

“Liar.”

“I thought you didn’t remember?”

Chase tried to turn to look at House but gasped as his stitches pulled. House yanked his hair and he obediently settled back down.

“I’m sorry about what I said- about your leg.”

“What’s the first rule of living in New Jersey?”

“Aim for the balls?” Chase repeated the rule House had made him learn when he first started working in the city. If you were being attacked, always go for the balls. That lesson had come in handy once or twice, in the scrungier bars, though he wasn’t about to tell House that.

“Nice to see my lesson sunk in. You were being forced into something you didn’t want to do so you metaphorically kicked me in the crotch. Good for you. Try it again though and I’ll metaphorically shove my cane up your ass.” He threatened, grinning, as he wrapped a strand of blond hair around his fingers.

Chase smiled and relaxed back against the sofa, dozing off as a companionable silence filled the room.

Suddenly though, he began to snicker.

“What?” the older doctor asked accusingly.

“House, you’re petting me.” Chase informed him sleepily.

House rolled his eyes and flipped the blanket over Chase’s head, pinning it down as Chase tried to squirm away.

House waited until the blanket-covered bundle got still and lifted one corner, peeking in at his disheveled intensivist.

Chase stared back at him, his hair falling into his eyes and a slight smile on his lips. His blue eyes were bright, even with the dark circles that framed them.

House blinked, and both sets of eyes went wide.

“Guh!” House dropped the blanket back over his intensivist and sat back quickly.

‘This isn’t happening…this isn’t happening…this isn’t happening’ He chanted to himself, closing his eyes. That funny little feeling in the pit of his stomach had absolutely nothing to do with the young blond sitting at his feet. ‘This isn’t happening’ He repeated.

He reached out blindly and lifted the blanket again gingerly, peeking out of one eye.

It was happening. House sighed in defeat and mentally face palmed himself. His body however was busy taking it’s own initiative, ignoring it’s owner’s higher reasoning.

House leaned forward, bending down as Chase stretched up, their lips meeting. The kiss was surprisingly gentle, leaving House more than slightly bewildered. He didn’t do “gentle”.

The kiss lasted until Chase gasped, his side finally deciding it had had enough of that position. He fell, conveniently, right into House. His head landing on the older doctor’s shoulder. He felt no real compulsion to move. Houses hands immediately went to his hips, keeping him steady as Chase kneeled between his legs.

“So…” House was the first to break the silence, talking over Chase’s head, staring absently at the blank TV. “I’m starving. You want pancakes?”

Chase pulled back and flopped carefully down on the floor. “That sounds good. The Waffle Hut delivers.”

“Pancake delivery? At 4 am?”

Chase shrugged. “And they have chocolate ones. The menus on the fridge.”

House used Chase to push himself up, heading for the kitchen.

“You, back in bed or on the couch. I’ll take care of din-din.”

Chase obediently climbed onto the couch and wrapped himself up in his blanket. House came back with the menu and cordless phone, which he used to swat Chase’s legs. The blonde obediently lifted his legs long enough for House to slide under them, before lowering them back on to House’s lap. House yanked on the covers, rearranging them till they were both covered.

“The bypass breakfast?” House asked incredulously, reading off the tattered flyer. “With 3 sides of meat, 4 eggs any way you like, and our signature pancakes swimming in a lake of butter, You’ll actually be able to hear your arteries slam shut.” He wrinkled his nose. “Delightful.”

Chase snickered, wiggling down into the overstuffed couch. “It’s actually pretty good once you drain off the grease.”

“I can’t believe you eat this crap.”

“You can always get the healthy version.” Chase argued.

“How can they possibly make something called the “bypass breakfast” healthy?”

“Tofurky sausage links.” The intensivist grinned at House’s disgusted expression, and closed his eyes, drifting off as twin images of house kissing him, and a deliciously greasy breakfast danced behind his eyelids.

He purred happily, and heard House snicker.

-Ch 17-

Chase was bored, which, House quickly realized, was not a Good Thing.

House was ready to throttle him. Now, he him self was known far and wide for having an almost non-existent attention span, and getting bored at the drop of a hat. He could sympathize, really.

But Chase was diving him batty. He was spending more time awake as he healed and he was cranky over being kept in bed with nothing to do.

"Wilson! Get you're ass over here and keep me from killing you're little Australian child!" House snapped into the phone from the kitchen looking around the door to keep an eye out in case Chase made another escape attempt.

"...what?"

"Chase! I am going to kill him! You know what dealing with me when I'm bored is like? Double it, add whining in weird Aussie-isms, and constant escape attempts from his bed!"

"Well you know what he's like...he's normally pretty active, it must be boring to be stuck in bed for so long. Give him a TV or something."

"I did! He's still bored!"

"Err , crossword puzzles?"

"Tried it."

"Uh, computer?"

"No help what so ever."

"Your game boy?"

"Helped for about two minutes before he got killed, and bored again."

“ipod?”

“He complained about my music.”

"Huh...ok yeah this is bad. Drug him."

"You stupid or something? That is what got us into this situation in the first place!"

Wilson sighed. "It was just a suggestion. Alright, have you tried letting him play with the psychotic pets?"

"Huh?"

"Chase likes those little monsters you two call pets so that should keep him happy for at least a little while."

"That...is actually a good plan. And they're not monsters, they just don't like you."

"That's why I'm the mom. Have fun." Wilson said hanging up.

House quickly opened the door to Steve's cage and let him climb up to his shoulder, then opened Chexie's cage and pulled her out to hop into his other shoulder. Chexie spit at Steve, while Steve simply ignored the bird.

"Chaaaase! Got a pressie for you!"

Chase scowled up from the TV he was only half watching then grinned brightly when he saw Steve and Chexie.

House plopped the rat on his chest and set the bird on his head. "There. Play. Have fun. Stop whining." Before falling into his chair and pulling out his game boy.

Chase happily petted both animals. "Awww Chexie! I missed you too. Yeah I haven't been able to play with you much lately."

House looked up and eyed Chase. "What kind of name is Chexie anyway?”

Chase suddenly blushed wildly.

"Oh now I really want to know!"

Chase sighed still petting Steve and Chexie. "It's short for Cachexia."

"...as in the medical condition? Physical wasting with loss of weight and muscle mass caused by disease?"

"I was a kid ok! I read it in one of my father's books and I thought it sounded cool and was fun to say..." Chase muttered waving a hand around and still blushing.

House snickered. "You are so weird."

Chase scowled. "Takes one to know one!"

House snorted. "What are you 10?"

Chase started to reply when he froze and looked around. "Where'd Steve go?"

House sat up straighter. "What!"

"He was here a second ago..."

They both tried to look around to see where the rat had gotten to, when Chase yelped.

"What now!"

"I think I found him! Pants! He's in my pants!" Chase squeaked.

House blinked then stood to pull the blanket on the bed down. "Steve what the hell are you doing?"

A muffled squeak came from Chase’s sweatpants.

"Don't just stand there, help me!" Chase yelped.

House rolled his eyes and reached inside Chase’s waistband.

Chase squeaked this time. "What are you doing!"

"...getting Steve?"

"...that's not Steve..." Chase gasped.

House froze then coughed pulling his hand back out. "Err Steve?"

"Leg. The left one."

House moved down to Chase's legs and carefully slid his hand up the pants leg. "Where are you, you little rat?" He growled under his breath as his hand inched higher.

Chase's eyes glazed over as House's hands inched higher up his leg, trying to find Steve. His hands moved slowly. A little too slowly, because Steve was already making a break for freedom, crawling out of a hole worn into the knee of the pants leg.

Chase's glanced down and saw House hadn't seen Steve and a grin crossed his face. He scooped up the amused looking rat and hid him under the blanket.

Chase pasted a worried look back on his face as House looked up. "Where the hell did he get to?"

"I don't know!"

"Well he has to be here! He can't have disappeared!" House snapped scowling trying to ignore that fact that it wasn't exactly torture to be running his hand up Chase's long, lean, muscled leg.

"Just keep looking." Chase encouraged.

House grunted and kept sliding his hand up further.

Chase swallowed hard, trying to keep from laughing.

House got to the holes in the knees and glared. "Steve! You are so grounded mister!"

Chase couldn't help but laugh at that. "How do you ground a rat? Take away his wheel?"

"No. I take away his rat treats! You hear me Steve!"

Steve's head popped out from under the blanket.

House spotted him and pulled his arm back from Chase's pants leg, not noticing Chase's pout, and scoped up his rat. "There you are! Don't do that! It's not nice to scare daddy like that!"

Chase bit his lip and shook with laughter. "...daddy?"

House glared at him. "Shut. Up. I have seen you naked and can spread vicious rumors to all potential lays!"

"Are you forgetting all potential lays think I'm a married gay man?"

House waved him off. "Please. Half the fun is trying to get you back to their side. They’ll seduce you with the feminine wiles and steal you away from your loving husband”

Chase slowly smirked. "Who says I want either?" Chase said slowly sliding a hand up House’s own thigh.

House froze. "Err...what are you doing, Wombat?''

Chase pouted playfully. "Well my husbandly needs have been ignored so far. I don't think that's fair."

House swallowed. "Uh Chase...did you get into the pain meds?"

Chase smirked and shook his head lightly moving Chexie and Steve to the headboard where they won't be squished, then grabbed House's hands and put them back on his thighs, then slid his own hands back up House's. "I don't need drugs to want to jump your bones."

House's eyes quickly glazed over and he struggled to focus. "Uh Chase we can't do this!"

"Why not? We are married aren't we?"

"Ahhh You're Catholic!"

Chase gave him amused look while he slid his hand further up House's legs.

"...stitches?" House muttered weakly.

"I feel fine. Wanna take a feel?" Chase leered.

"Chaaase!" House groaned quickly losing what little mental faculties he was holding onto.

"Hoooouse." Chase teasingly moaned back.

House’s hands were moving of their own accord, his hands inching up, thumbs grazing over Chase’s hips, which jerked slightly as House found a ticklish spot. House reflexively tightened his grip, unfortunately for Chase, House’s grip was right over his fresh stitches.

Chase gasped and pulled back, smacking his head against the headboard. Chexie squawked angrily.

"Dammit." House pulled him self back panting and glared. “You little idiot.”

“I’m okay,” Chase gasped, slowly straightening. He smiled shakily at House and reached out for him again. House smacked the hand.

“Nuh-uh. No nookey for you just because you’re bored.”

“I’m not bored!” Chase denied. “Well, okay, I’m fantastically bored.” He amended. “But I still want to have sex with you.”

House groaned. “No sex until you’re healed. You do remember we’re just married so I can get time off don’t you?”

Chase pouted. “You started it.” He argued playfully.

“Did not!”

“Did too.!”

“Did not!”

“You kissed me!”

“You climbed into bed with me!”

“I had a concussion!”

“That doesn’t count!” House grabbed Chase’s creeping hands and pinned them to the bed.

“You behave. I’m going to… go order more pancakes.”

House quickly limped out of the room, and Chase snickered as he heard the bathroom door slammed.

He reached up to scratch Steve behind the ears. "Ah well it was worth a shot...I'll get his ass next time."

Steve squeaked approvingly.

-Ch 18-

Chase winced as the alarm clock blared in his ear. He flung out one arm and slapped the snooze button, before stretching carefully, keeping his eyes closed.

He grinned as his stitches twinged only slightly, and reached over to poke House into wakefulness. Over the past weeks he had become used to the other man sharing his bed. After the first night House had refused to sleep on the couch any more, and Chase had refused to nurse a constant migraine because of House’s couch-induced crankiness. It hadn’t been so bad really, as long as House kept his cold feet to himself.

Chase frowned and opened one eye as his elbow met empty mattress. He squelched the tiny voice quietly panicking in his head, and listened intently. Soon he began to hear the rattle of pans and the occasional sleepy curse coming from the kitchen.

He smiled and relaxed back into the warm bed, reaching down to scratch carefully around the itching sutures. He lifted the covers to see if the redness had started to fade any and blinked as his finger sparkled at him.

Chase pulled his hand out from under the covers and held it the window, looking at the large cubic zirconia that perched gaudily on his ring finger.

He groaned and flung his arm over his face covering his eyes.

“Ow!” The large rock hit him in the eye.

He growled, but a smile however, managed to peek out.

“House!” He called out, “I had so better be getting pancakes for this!”

House knocked the door open with his hip and smirked as he carried in the tray full of food and orange juice. "Would I deny my bride her pancakes?"

Chase snorted in amusement and sat up, shoving his pillows into a more comfortable back support. “I haven’t even said yes yet, and you’re the one doing the housewife thing.”

"Gee, Sexist much? Gender roles were so 1950. Besides, You're obviously. the little woman. Look at that girlish figure, and shiny, shiny hair. And the yoga. Oh lord the yoga!" House insisted as he put the tray on the bed over Chase's lap. Chase snickered as he recognized Waffle Hut’s signiture walnut waffles.

"Are you laughing at you’re breakfast? I spent hours slaving over the waffle iron for that."

"I don’t even have a waffle iron.” Chase mumbled around a sausage link.

“Oops.” House said innocently, while reaching out to snag a strip of bacon.

Chase scowled and slapped at his hand. "Didn't you cook your own food?"

House stretched out on the bed, propping up on one elbow and continued to snitch food. “So…?” He drawled.

Chase chewed thoughtfully. He grinned and swallowed the mouthful of waffle.

“This isn’t a real diamond.” He reminded House.

“Ingrate.”

-Ch 19-

Chase grinned as he walked back down the familiar hallways. He had finally been pronounced healed enough to get back to work, and he was thoroughly enjoying it. If only he could get Cameron to stop staring at him. She walked beside him, throwing quick glances as if afraid he was going to run off.

He dismissed he worries with another smile and held open the door for her as they walked into the room of their newest patient. A six-year-old boy, who had so far, baffled the team of Diagnosticians. House had sent them to get a blood sample, hoping that would help.

"Hiya Cory. Feeling any better?" He asked the young boy as he automatically scanned the monitors checking the readings, before looking at him.

The young boy mutely shook his head no.

"Where's your mum and dad?"

"Had to go fill out more forms." Cory muttered softly.

"Aww well I'm sure they'll be back as soon as they can!" Cameron tried comfortingly. The small child glared pitifully at her, looking remarkably like Chase when he had been a patient.

Chase snickered and moved to Cory's bedside. "Cory you want to feel better right? Well we need to take some blood so we can see what's making you sick and get you all better."

"I don't want my blood taken!" He screamed.

"I know you're scared but there's nothing to be frightened of. It's quick and painless. You won't even feel a thing and then we'll get you feeling better and you can go home."

Cory looked distrusting on the tray full of needles, tubes, and other scary looking things. "You go first."

It was Chase’s turn to glare. He hurriedly turned it into a reassuring smile. “er…”

“See!” Corey latched on to his hesitancy. “It is going to hurt!”

Chase sighed and shrugged off his lab coat, throwing it on the chair next to the bed. He began rolling up his shirtsleeve. “Was I this annoying when I was a patient?” He murmured to Cameron out of the side of his mouth.

“You were worse.” She whispered back, grinning slightly.

“Serves me right then.”

Chase shot her a quick smile then grinned at Cory. "See? Nothing to worry about! “ He said as Cameron wrapped the rubber tourniquet around his arm. He continued to walk through the steps as Cameron drew his blood. “It's just a bit tight, like wrapping a rubber band around your finger, then she's cleaning a spot off with the alcohol pad, then a tiny pinch, you barely feel, and..." He looked over to where his blood was running into the glass tube and made a quick face, which made Cory giggle. "...in a minute we have the blood sample we need." Chase finished as Cameron reached for a piece of gauze to press over the small hole where the needle had gone in. Chase pressed down on the gauze for a second before lifting it back up and presenting his arm to the small boy.

“See? Nothing to it.” Cory inched closer to inspect the small hole, as if expecting it to start spurting geysers of blood any second.

“It’s not too bad… I guess.” He said doubtfully.

“Good. So you’ll let Dr. Cameron take your blood now?” Cory nodded and Chase sighed in relief, beginning to unroll his shirtsleeve.

“What’s that?” the little boy asked suddenly, pointing to the piece of jewelry safety pinned to the inside of Chase’s cuff.

“It’s pretty...that looks like my mommy's ring, but it’s bigger..." He tried to get a closer look at the gaudy ring, with its large fake diamond.

"Errr it's a long story.” He looked up at Cameron, who was watching him with raised eyebrows and coughed. “A very long story. And anyway now it's your turn Cory!" Chase said, hurriedly handing Cameron another collection kit, just as House strolled in, knocking the door against the wall.

"...What’s going on?" House asked eyes firmly glued to the piece of gauze Chase was holding to the crook of his arm, and the vial of blood on the table.

"Oh Cory here was just a little nervous about getting his blood taken so we're showing him how easy it is." Chase said holding the gauze in place while Cameron opened a band-aid and taped the square down, his eyes very clearly telling House 'He's calm right now. If you upset him I will kill you.'

House gave him a look that assured him the conversation wasn’t over and then glanced at Cameron and Cory. "Need Chase for a consult. Cameron finish up here then get started on the tests in the lab. Wombat, heel!"

Chase rolled his eyes in amusement and glanced at Cameron then Cory. "Gonna be ok with Dr. Cameron if I go?"

The boy nodded and Chase grabbed his lab coat and followed House out of the room, buttoning his shirt cuff as he left.

-Ch 20-

Chase followed House and as soon as the door to the empty exam room was closed Chase turned a pout on the older doctor, holding out his arm. “Kiss it better?” He teased.

House grinned and pulled Chase to his chest and began kissing his way up Chase’s arm through the thin shirt sleeve, starting at the small bandage and making his way to Chase’s exposed neck, nibbling the sensitive skin.

Chase groaned happily.

"So," House started speaking in between nibbles, "You’re healed?” He said suspiciously.

“Not even close.”

“You let Cameron stick a huge needle in your arm. The last time she tried that you climbed in my lap.”

Chase leaned his head back, giving House better access. “Maybe I’m a little healed.”

“So… kinky exam room sex now?”

"Eh no."

"Aww common!"

"No House."

"I thought you were healed.”

Chase snorted, trying not to let his brain melt out his ears and just give into House. "It's not my medical phobia that says no, it's my Cuddyphobia."

House grinned nibbling on Chase's ear. "She thinks I'm with a patient. I could always be claiming to be giving you a physical..."

Chase whimpered. "Oh fine, but I'm putting the blame on you if we get caught!"

House grinned wickedly pushing Chase backwards towards the exam table. Chase obliged and slid up on to it, wrapping his legs around House’s waist to pull him closer. Neither of them heard the door open.

Foreman walked into the room expecting House to be playing with his game boy or reading a magazine like usual. Sadly he was mistaken.

“Gah!” He stated eloquently.

Chase squeaked and peered around House. "Foreman what are you doing!"

"I could ask you the same thing!"

"Err... check up! Making sure Chase is healing!" House said trying to slide off of Chase. He batted at Chase’s legs, still holding him captive as Chase was frozen in terror.

"I...I don't want to know. I needed a consult but suddenly I don't think I need it anymore." Foreman groaned. "And lock the damn door next time!" He snapped before turning and walking out.

Chase groaned and covered his face, falling back on the table, his legs still firmly gripping House’s waist. "I want a divorce."

"We're not actually married yet."

"I don’t care. I still want one.”

“Then I want the diamond back.” House countered, grinning.

“It’s not a diamond.”

The End