AN: This is a sequel to What They Did on Their Thanksgiving Vacation. You really need to read that one first! ;) I expect this one to have two parts only, unless I get carried away.

Cameron opened her eyes to find a small brown teddy bear's black button eyes staring back at her, from atop Chase's pillow. She could not help but smile as she sat up and reached for the little bear, only to find that it was sitting on a pink envelope addressed to her: Mrs. Allison Cameron-Chase.

She laughed out loud when she pulled the card from the envelope and saw a black leather-clad Elvis. Happy Valentine's Day was printed across the card in red. She opened it and chuckled as the card serenaded her with, Baby, let me be, your lovin' teddy bear, which was also the text printed on the inside of the card.

She shook her head in amusement as she read Chase's hand-written note: I had an early surgery. Sorry I couldn't be here when you woke up. Love you, Me.

She made the bed and placed the teddy bear in the center between their pillows, then went about her morning routine. Her heart melted a little bit more when she walked into their kitchen and saw a single red rose in a bud vase and fresh blueberry muffin on a plate next to the rose. Chase had even covered the muffin in red plastic wrap so that it would not dry out while she was sleeping. She was impressed with his thoughtfulness. There were not a lot of things he could have prepared for her breakfast having no idea when she would get up, but he had succeeded in finding something to surprise her.

She poured herself a glass of milk, then sat down to eat her muffin, thinking happily about the almost three months they had spent as newlyweds since making the spur of the moment decision to get married over Thanksgiving.

It seemed that House had forwarded their wedding video to everyone on staff at PPTH because as soon as they got back, they found that the hospital had been plastered with hundreds of photos of them taken from screen captures of the video. A trail of photos and arrows declaring, "Newlyweds: This Way," had led them to an Elvis-themed wedding shower in the cafeteria. It was unbelievable just how many tacky Elvis products were on the market. They had found themselves saddled with Elvis towels, Elvis sheets, Elvis dinnerware, Elvis clocks, Elvis lamps, Elvis throw-pillows, and even an Elvis shaped baking pan, should either of them ever decide to be creative in the kitchen.

They both looked rather horror-struck in the photos from the shower. She supposed it had been difficult to express copious amounts of gratitude for their matching Elvis pajamas when neither of them were exactly rabid Elvis fans prior to the ceremony. Yet, somehow they had found themselves listening to the Elvis box sets and retained the magic of what his songs had meant in their wedding, even if the majority of the gifts were going to wind up for sale on Ebay.

As her muffin dwindled, she saw The King's curling lip smiling back at her from the saucer and she started giggling, wondering for a moment about her own sanity and how they had ever reached the point where a rock and roll icon had become a symbol of their love.

When she arrived at the hospital, she went to the locker room to store her purse. As she opened the door of her locker, a heart-shaped helium filled balloon came floating out. She grabbed the string and read the note that was attached. It simply said, Loving You. She smiled, then wrangled the balloon back into her locker before going to start her shift in the ER.

XOXOXOXOXOX

Chase was painstakingly focused on making precise cuts for an open-heart surgery when a familiar voice came over the intercom of the OR.

"Need a consult with The King," House barked into the microphone.

Chase rolled his eyes. He had endured the nickname ever since he and Cameron had returned from Las Vegas. "In the middle of something here," he answered, not even looking up to his former boss. If he had, he would have seen that House was flanked by Foreman and the new team.

"I've got a dying patient," House said. "And I'm surrounded by idiots."

"Not my fault you picked a bunch of idiots," Chase reminded him, unaware that they could hear him or that they were exchanging worried looks among themselves. "Time for a change, remember?"

"Patient has hemochromatosis."

"Sounds like a diagnosis."

"Let me finish," House snapped.

"Open heart surgery, House."

"Don't make me come down there," House threatened.

"You wouldn't," Chase finally looked up, surprised to find the entire group watching him. "I've already made incisions. You come in here, you could kill him."

"Then listen to me for two minutes."

Chase knew the only way to make House go away was to humor him.

"Patient presented with gastroenteritis and a rash."

"Bacteria?" Chase suggested.

"Right. Because none of us thought of that," House replied. "He's become septic."

Chase furrowed his brow, considering the symptoms. "Job?"

"Tenth grade student."

"I assume you've sent your minions to do a little BNE already?" Chase noticed Foreman was scowling behind Kutner.

"Naturally. The house was clean."

"Parents have any symptoms?"

"None."

"Eating habits?"

"Crap, like every other fifteen year old boy. None of his friends are sick."

"Been out of the country?"

"Got back from Japan six days ago."

"Yersinia pseudotuberculosis," Chase suggested. "The hemochromatosis makes him more susceptible to sepsis with that strain of bacteria and more cases have come out of Japan than anywhere else."

House smiled and nodded, "That's why I fired you. Come along, morons."

Chase sighed and watched them go. He knew his current job was important, but damned if he did not miss the thrill of a differential diagnosis. Removing and repairing hearts simply did not give him as much intellectual stimulation. He hoped the poor guy on the table never found out he was thinking that while he laid there cut open. He shifted his focus back to the surgery, pushing House out of his mind as best he could.

Hours later, he came out of surgery exhausted. Despite the success of the procedure, it was far less the exhilarating than thinking that maybe he had helped House solve a case. It had felt good to be in House's office urging him to make the sun move faster. It had felt even better to hear House say, "We need you," whether it had been true or not. He was eager to find out if his suggestion had been the answer they were seeking, but his pride would never have allowed him to go to House to ask. He wearily made his way to his locker, hoping that Cameron would agree to a romantic night at home instead of going out for dinner. He did not feel much like being in a crowded restaurant.

When he opened his locker, he found a stuffed basset hound sitting in a basket full of imported chocolates. He had made no secret of how inferior he found American chocolate. While Cameron sometimes claimed to crave a Hershey bar the size of a bridge, he could not stand the texture or the overwhelming sugary taste of the brand. He argued that the best chocolate came from Belgium, Switzerland, and Austria, but that even the Australians--for that matter, even the British--made better chocolate than Americans. He helped himself to an Austrian truffle, deciding it was the perfect pick-me-up after the day he had had. He debated whether or not to take the chocolate home or leave it in his locker. Before he could decide, Foreman approached him, "House wants to see you," he said coolly.

Basket in hand, Chase extended it to Foreman, "Chocolate?" he offered. "It's the good stuff." He supposed he looked fairly silly holding the basset hound, but he had decided to put it on the bookshelf in his office.

"Thanks," Foreman said, helping himself to a medallion.

"How's your patient?" Chase asked, stuffing the basket and the dog back into his locker.

"You were right," Foreman answered, sounding more annoyed than anything else.

Chase could not help but smile. It was good to know he had not completely lost the ability to help in a differential. He was afraid that if he did not have a challenge soon, he would forget the process, the way to go about looking at symptoms and diving into the middle to see what was connecting them. Even when he realized he could do it if he put his mind to it, he knew he would never be as good at it as House was. And, now, with no practice of the game, he was likely to forget everything he knew, just as he had forgotten more French than he could remember.

Despite the thrill of knowing he got one right, he was solemn as he followed Foreman to the Diagnostic's office. He found that the place had been abandoned, save House who was bouncing a ball against the wall. Same old House.

"You can leave," House told Foreman pointedly. "You, sit," he nodded toward Chase.

Chase sat in the familiar chair. Everything about the Diagnostics office felt oddly foreign to him. He supposed it was like visiting your childhood home after someone else had moved into it. The structure may be the same, but it was not home anymore.

"It's a waste for you to be in surgery," House said.

"It's a job," Chase shrugged.

"Do you like it?"

"Do you care?" Chase countered.

"Not really," House conceded.

"Why am I here?" Chase asked.

"We need you."

Chase exhaled heavily, torn between wanting so badly for House to be telling him the truth and cautiously doubting the man's sincerity.

"I know what you're thinking--I'm up to something. I'm not."

"You're offering me my old job?"

"No. I want to make you senior attending."

"Foreman--"

"Doesn't have as much experience as you."

"Cuddy--"

"Agreed to let me hire you, offer you your current salary plus a signing bonus plus an extra week of vacation time."

Chase was dubious of the offer. "Do you have that in writing?"

"You're not saying no," House observed.

"You're not showing me anything in writing," Chase reminded him.

"You'll get it," House promised.

"Cameron--"

"Will be happy if you're happy."

"I don't know about that. She'll want to know why you want me back, but not her."

"Working all day long with your wife is a bad idea."

Chase was silent, mulling it over. House was right, of course. It would be difficult to separate their jobs from their home if they were working in the same department. Being in different areas had been good for them. They were close enough to have lunch and far apart enough to miss each other.

"Chase, she's not the diagnostician that you are. Neither is Foreman. He won't stick around after his year contract is up. He's leaning toward administration and it suits him. My new fellows need to get used to another attending."

"How do I know you won't fire me again on another whim?"

"You don't."

Chase frowned. That answer was not good enough.

"Change is bad," House shrugged.

"I have to discuss it with Cameron," Chase told him. There was no way he would take the job without her approval, no matter how badly he wanted it.

"Aren't you two on a first name basis yet?" House asked.