Disclaimer: I don't own house, never have, never will

Warnings: Abuse, homosexual relationships

Pairings: House/Chase


"He's back." House growled as he entered Wilson's office.

The oncologist sat casually at his desk nestling a cup of coffee, a frown forming on his face as he tried to understand House's statement. "Excuse me?"

"Him. It. Pratchett." House grunted, bouncing his cane against the wooden floor loudly in frustration. He fell into one of the large, comfortable 'cancer chairs', designed to comfort those who had just received bad news. I know this much at least, my ass is as comfortable as it's going to be in this hospital. House mused, leaning forward to rest on his knees so he could glare at the floor.

"Pratchett? As in, the man who followed Stacy's brother for 2 years?" Wilson asked, standing up from his chair to lean on the desk worriedly.

"No, Terry Pratchett." House replied sarcastically, cane smashing rhythmically against the wooden floor, bouncing into his hand.

"Right." Wilson nodded, clasping his hands together in front of him. "In what sense is he 'back'?"

"His car's parked out front." House replied, dragging one hand through his crew cut hair. He stood up, pacing across the room to the window. Wilson walked to his side, peering over to see the old, black, empty sedan parked across the street. "He's still got his medical license, he might be in the hospital somewhere."

"Well." Wilson mused, leaning back contemplatively. "Neither you nor I are exactly in his demographic anymore..."

"No, but after last time, he'll be after my blood, or as close to it as he can get." House reminded the oncologist, grabbing a piece of paper from the sideboard and crumpling it into a tiny ball. House opened the window slightly, and Wilson leant forward, watching as House threw the tiny ball down a nurse's top. House dropped down below the windowsill, leaving Wilson left staring at the annoyed woman.

"House, try and take this seriously." Wilson stated, rolling his eyes as he nodded an apology to the disgruntled nurse. "Who do you think he'll be after?"

House looked at Wilson for a moment, regarding him as one would regard an imbecile. "What men do we know that are Blond, athletic, and young with an accent?" House stated, rolling his eyes at his counterpart's slowness.

"You think he'll be after -"

"Chase." House finished, leaning heavily against his cane. "There's no one else that fits the criteria. The question is, how do I prevent that bastard from getting at Chase?"

"Just do what you'd always do. Make excuses to keep him within your sight. Remember though, act like as much as an ass as possible, or he'll know something's up." Wilson rationalised, returning to his desk calmly. "He's down in the conference rooms at the moment, he's running a presentation." The oncologist started, watching House head for the door rapidly and following quickly. "I'm sure you can sit in, there's bound to be some - hey! Where are you going? The conference rooms are the other way."

"I know that, duuh. I'm not going to the conference room." House said sarcastically, continuing to walk away. "I'm off to see Cuddy!"


"G'day, mate!" Robert Chase winced as the brash tones of his impatient boss broke through the conference room. Straightening his tie nervously, he turned to face House, eyebrows raised slightly. "When the Wilson said you were performing a demonstration on the lower levels, I had hoped he was speaking metaphorically. Might have made this slightly more interesting." He swung into the final seat on the table casually, propping his worn cane against the edge of the oak surface as a file rested in his clasped hands. "So, what are we 'demonstrating' today? The art of mismatched dressing?"

"The difference between Petit Mal seizures and ADHD." The australian replied calmly, piling papers in an orderly fashion, glancing up at House regularly.

"How riveting." House snipped, balancing his legs on another chair. "No Dame Edna impersonation? Or perhaps Skippy the kangaroo is more your forte?"

"I might manage Shane Warne, if you're lucky." The Australian quipped, glancing quickly again at his employer as he checked everything was in place. "He's a cricketer." Chase supplied, noting House's bemused look.

"I know that, Sheila. I just don't see why you'd ever want to impersonate someone who spends their days playing a cheap impersonation of baseball." House grinned, baiting his youngest duckling.

"I'm not going to get into a sports argument right now, House." Chase replied, scrunching his nose amusedly in reply to House's disgruntled look. "I need to get ready for this presentation." Chase stated, frown forming as House stood abruptly, walking over to the head of the table to pick the papers off the presentation desk with a determined glare. "Hey!"

"I can't have you messing round down here, wombat. We have a case."

"What?" Chase sighed, dragging a hair through his blond locks. "I'm sure Foreman and Cameron can handle it for now." Chase reasoned, leaning on the surface exasperatedly.

"Never know when you might need a cardiologist." House stated, throwing the patient's chart in the air for his employee to catch. Chase grabbed the chart deftly, opening it up to read as his frown deepened.

"The main problem's in his brain, and, judging by the amount of illnesses he's had in the last 6 months, is most likely autoimmune." Chase diagnosed, snapping the file shut and returning it to House. "You have an immunologist and a neurologist at your disposal already, I'll just be a dead weight."

"What are the chances of that, eh?" House grinned, glancing over the folder for himself with a nod. "Well, you've got nothing better to do than come upstairs anyway. Already called Cuddy and cancelled this little liaison." House retorted, picking up his cane and grinning at his employee. "I have access to the one that disagrees with me and the one that brings up all ethical issues. It wouldn't be a true diagnosis if my personal cheerleader wasn't there to back me up! Hop to it, wombat, we wouldn't want Cameron and Foreman to get bored waiting for me to diagnose the little blighter, would we?"

"You cancelled my presentation?" Chase asked incredulously, eyebrows virtually touching his hairline as he picked up the remaining printouts, marching out the room to catch up with the limping man.

"You matched a blue shirt with that tie?" House replied with the same inclinations, cane tapping harshly against the wooden floor.

"This is insanity, House! You can't just cancel my meetings as and when you feel like it." Chase exclaimed, stomping in front of his boss to block the path to the elevator.

"I think you'll find, Dr Chase, that as your boss I can do whatever I like with regards to your schedule." House stated, using his long cane to click the elevator button over the Australian's shoulder. "And you know the rules, if I've got a case I need all three of my diagnostic team on hand."

"Then why did you let Foreman take leave last week to help in that drug trial?" Chase asked incredulously, throwing his hands in the air in frustration as House walked round him into the opening elevator.

"Because if I hadn't, Foreman might have set his gang of hoodlums on me. You know how those black men are with their guns." House replied sarcastically, pressing the button for floor 5 with panache. "And come on, Chase, have some compassion! That experience improved Foreman's future job prospects."

"Oh, and this presentation couldn't have improved mine?" Chase huffed, trying to move into the elevator until the end of House's cane came up against his chest, preventing him from moving forward.

"Who said you needed to look for a new job?" House grinned, clicking the close door button and pulling his cane into the elevator. "You've got two good legs, you can use the stairs, boyo."

Hands on hips, Chase spun, exhaling in agitation. Lord, I work for a dick.


"Ducklings!" House exclaimed as he limped into the room, Chase slightly behind him. Taking up his usual place in front of the white board whilst Chase fell into his seat, the diagnostician pointed at his other two doctors. "Foreman, Cameron, explain to Chase what we've found so far."

"Amnesia, elevated heart rate, compromised immune system, vomiting -" Foreman reeled off before he was cut off by House.

"Woah, slow down there 50 cent, give the cripple a little writing time!" House exclaimed, scribbling away at the whiteboard as Foreman slowly repeated the symptoms. "Okay, so what can we deduce about a puker who can't remember his own name?"

"Brain tumour?" Chase suggested.

"MRI was clean." replied, handing over the test results. "In fact, apart from some minor swelling, the brain looked normal. The problem didn't start in the brain, it just ended up there."

"Alcoholism?" Chase tried again.

"Why don't you just ask if its influenza while you're here? He got sent to us because he didn't have any of the usual suspects, duuh!" House stated loudly, limping round the room in boredom.

"Tox screen came back negative for all common drugs, including alcohol." Cameron replied, ignoring House completely. "Given the compromised immune system, I think he may have more than one illness or infection; all of which would have different symptoms and treatments."

"Chances of him having more than one illness that doesn't appear in the routine blood tests already performed are minimal at best, even given the state of his immune system." Chase stated, thinking hard. "There's got to be a simpler answer."

"I assume "minimal at best" is your stiff upper lip British way of saying "no chance in hell."" House quipped, leaning heavily against his cane.

"I'm australian." Chase frowned.

"You put the queen on your money; you're british. And wrong. Multiple illnesses could have compromised the results of the test, it could just be two simple problems." House retorted, taking the file off Cameron as Chase muttered angrily about 'the usual suspects'. "Its late, go home. The guy will still be breathing in the morning." The three stood up swiftly, heading for the door. "Woah, Skippy. Where do you think you're going?"

Chase froze, looking at his employer in surprise. The other occupants in the room froze also, wondering what was going on. "Home, like you just said we could." Chase said slowly, resuming movement at a low pace.

"No, I said Cameron and Foreman could go home. What, did you think I'd just leave this poor puking amnesiac on his lonesome?" House stated, pulling a sad face."You're going to give him a wide range antibiotic to see if you can't kill any infections off."

"You're letting them go but not me? Chase exclaimed, hands slamming on the table in annoyance. "You said you needed all three of us to do this differential. Surely if you only needed one of us, you could have left me to do that damned presentation!"

"One rule doesn't fit all, blondie, and I needed your cute ass to help me out tonight. You'll be staying, and you'll enjoy it, too." House winked. "See how many hookers we can sneak under Cuddy's nose."

"Tough break, man." Foreman stated, clasping Chase's shoulder as he walked past the annoyed Australian.

"I don't mind staying if you like?" Cameron asked, hands tucked deeply in her pockets.

"Don't worry about it, Cameron, I can deal with House for one night." Chase smiled tiredly, running a hand through his hair. "I think." Cameron smiled sympathetically, taking her leave. Chase turned to face his boss exasperatedly, heart dropping at the dangerous grin on House's face.

"So, Skippy, its just you and I tonight." The cripple grinned, popping 3 vicodin into his mouth. "We're going to have so much fun!"

Great.


Hello! This is my first House M.D fanfic, I hope you enjoy it! I love the TV show, so I hope I do the character's justice. I will be continuing my Two Steps Forward story (its Harry Potter RLSB loveliness) but it wasn't getting great reviews, so I wanted to have a go with something fresh to get my mojo back.

Read&Review my lovelies! Oh, and if you are willing and able to Beta this story, PM me as I know I have horrible grammatical habits.

(Thanks to quack675 for pointing out that the term Wombat is one of those phenomenons that doesn't appear in the TV series, all references to Chase as such have been removed! Sometimes the line between TV and Fan fiction gets a little blurred - I'd already had to double check that house had referred to the team as his ducklings in the TV show!)