First fanfic, let me know if it's worth my time. Ps, I don't own House.

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The diagnosis had taken awhile. A long while. They had brought their patient into a stable condition long enough to diagnose; Melanoma. She had been shipped off to their favourite oncologist, and the case, after some paper work that House took no part in, was over. The ducklings decided to celebrate, while House scowled at them and bounced around his grey-and-red tennis ball. He stayed all by his lonesome in his dark office while Cameron, Foreman and Chase headed off in search of hot wings.

House watched them as they made their way through the parking lot under his window, all searching for their respective cars, carrying on conversation that looked disgustingly cheerful and entirely uninviting to him. He convinced himself that he wasn't lonely and would much rather be here with his iPod than making small talk with his underlings over a dirty table. He wouldn't even want to sit there with them and enjoy greasy food, and listen to pleasantries and watch Cameron's eyes as they lit up at a joke. Not that they had asked him to, anyways. House shook his head, before throwing on his leather jacket and pocketing his iPod, and heading out in search of something severely alcoholic.

The bike roared under the diagnostician as he pulled into the parking lot of Louis's and cut the engine. He hopped off of it, and with the help of his cane, he hobbled inside, missing the sign posted on the side of the building completely.

Cameron idly watched the licence plate of Chase's BMW as she sat waiting for the light to change. If she jumbled the letters up a bit, she could almost spell "cactus", if you counted the 1 as a "t". This red light was taking forever. In her rear-view, she could see Foreman in his silver Impala. Chase had told them about a great pizza and wings place on McDougall Avenue, off Third Street, that he would go to when visiting his buddies in med school. Rumour was that they had some Karaoke competition going on. If nothing else, it would make for some interesting entertainment. The light changed, and after a few more blocks of their three car brigade, they arrived, parked, and met on the steps to walk into the shabby looking "Louis's".

Three scotches down the hatch and House could finally tolerate listening to what was going on around him. He watched as a plain looking man with black hair and jeans came up to announce something about the beginning of a competition. House complained to himself about how much he hates these little stints. As the first competitor, a blonde, curly haired little mess got up in her too-short skirt and started singing Shania Twain, his attention was drawn away by three familiar voices, a distinctive feminine one, one with a thick Australian accent, and a smooth, deep one. Great.

"So I told 'er," said the Australian voice behind him, " 'ave a sandwich, maybe you'll feel betta!"

"Chase!" scolded the giggling female.

"Nice one, man. That's priceless" added the deep voice.

House could hear them carrying on as they sat in a booth two or three away from where he sat. He didn't dare look. He couldn't go join them, and besides, he was already on his third -- fourth? – scotch and was beginning to feel light-headed.

This is nice, Foreman thought to himself as the three of them laughed away at the new gossip they had overheard from the nurses. No dying patient, no arrogant boss, no more work till our next case .. that pizza looks delicious. The three of them ordered drinks and pizza to share as they watched the Karaoke competition that was already well underway.

House was sulking. He scowled at the couple onstage, a blonde girl and a vastly taller redhead, as they sang a Johnny Cash/June Carter Cash song whilst holding hands and smiling. He scowled at his uneaten pizza, and his condensating drink. He scowled at his shoes, at his cane, and especially the party of three sitting somewhere behind him. He had heard his name several times, and he was hearing it even more now due to their increasing volume, which was varying directly to the amount of beer and long island iced tea they were consuming. So much for being alone with his thoughts and his alcohol tonight.

Allison Cameron drank through her straw with clenched teeth. She was grinning and sipping at the same time, and it wasn't working to well. There was long island iced tea all over her side of the table. Chase and Foreman watched her, laughing, which made her laugh in turn. The cute redhead and his girlfriend finished their duet and an aspiring cowboy took the stage. He wore cthe boots and the hat, spurs, a huge belt buckle and the obligatory beer belly that said belt and buckle were trying to hold in.

"Ten bucks, he sings 'Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy'." said Foreman, eyeing the cowboy guy.

"Tha's a deal!" Chase and Foreman shook on it. They all proceeded to gape in horror and the music began to play Celine Dion.

"Pay up, Aussie." Foreman held out his hand as cowboy-guy wrinkled his eyebrows up and belted out "Because You Love Me".

"Hey, Foreman, think you could do better than him?" asked Cameron with an evil glint in her eyes.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. I am not going up there!"

Cameron smiled, "Ten bucks says you are."

In all the commotion, the ducklings had failed to notice as another joined their party. House smiled wickedly as they all jumped when he spoke, slurring his words slightly.

"Yeah, Foreman, I'd really like to see you try."

Right there. Its right there. That teeeeenie little button. Just press it and let me know if I should keep going with this. Thanks guys.