I don't own House (altho I wish I did!). All characters and their actions are purely the result of an over active imagination. This story was inspired by Jonathan Butler's song"Take Good Care of Me" from his self titled 1986 album.

The alarm always went off too early. Or at least that was House's opinion as he threw the offending object to the floor. He should have put the clock out of its misery a long time ago, but the damn thing kept bouncing back and begging for more. He sighed. Well, with any luck, there was always tomorrow.

Grabbing the cane, he made his way to the bathroom. A quick shower seemed to help erase the remaining effects of sleep . Dressing quickly, he went to the kitchen. Opening the cupboard, he took down a box of croutons. Shaking a few into his other hand, he replaced the box and limped into the living room.

"Steve. Time for breakfast." Unusual silence greeted him. "Come out kid. Rise and shine." Leaning over, he shook the cage. A small head slowly popped out.

"Hey. Good morning." House opened the cage door and deposited the crutons in Steve's dish. Steve twitched his nose in response.

"Hey, you want to come out for a minute?" Steve just looked up with unblinking, black eyes. Closing the door, House stepped back. Looking at his watch, he decided that maybe if he arrived early to work, Cuddy would cut him some slack and let him leave early.

Fat chance, he chided himself, but it couldn't hurt.

Gathering his helmet, wallet, and keys, House locked the door as he left.

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House beat everyone to the clinic. In fact, he had already seen four patients by the time Cuddy walked thru the doors.

Immediately, Cuddy noticed that something was up. Quickly conferring with a resident, she learned that House had arrived at seven thirty and began seeing patients shortly after. Determined not to break his stride, Cuddy greeted the ducklings and set about assigning duties. Chase wasn't too happy about having to do a day in gynecology, and Cameron agreed to finish her reports. Wilson was short handed, so Foreman would shadow in Oncology.

With everything in order, Cuddy decided to catch up on donors and fund raisers. Since Vogler's departure, the hospital wasn't in financial dire straits, but it sure wasn't rolling in the dough.

By noon, having not had House storming in once, curiosity got the better of Cuddy. Between phone calls, she summoned Cameron to the office.

A knock on the door caused her to look up. Cameron's head poked around the frame.

"Come on in." Cuddy stood up to greet her visitor.

Cameron approached the desk. "You wanted to see me?"

"There is a problem with House."

Cameron blinked. "What's wrong with House?"

"I don't know. He arrived early and has been seeing patients continually without a break."

Cameron shook her head. "I don't get it; how is that so bad? You want him to do clinic hours."

"There's not been one complaint all day."

Cameron's mouth dropped open. "Are you sure it's House? Maybe he paid someone to take his hours."

Cuddy chuckled. "Know any other doctor who owns an orange 2005 Honda motorcycle with a cane holder?"

Cameron blinked. "What do you want me to do?"

Cuddy sat down in her chair. "Find out what's wrong with my doctor." Just then the phone rang. Cameron took that as her cue to leave.

Closing the door behind her, Cameron leaned against the wood for a moment to gather her thoughts and feelings. Obviously, House was up to something. The man hated clinic duty with a passion. He even bribed her a time or two or ten... Yet, something was wrong.

Knowing that he wouldn't just open up to her if asked, she decided on bribery to get her answers.

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Ten minutes later, Cameron knocked on Exam Room 4 while trying to balance two drinks and a bag containing a fresh made Reuben minus the pickles.

"Come in," a gruff voice called from the other side.

Cameron used her hip to push down the lever. The door swung open and she stepped inside. House looked up from his furious writing to glance at his employee.

"Here." She thrust the styrofoam cup toward him. Placing his pencil behind his ear, House took the container. "It's a Coke. Thought you might need the sugar to keep your energy up." Cameron placed the bag on the exam table. "Figured you might be hungry, too."

House raised his eyebrow in mock surprise. "Is this your doing or Cuddy's suggestion?"

"Why would Cuddy care if you missed lunch as long as your clinic hours were done?"

House took a long sip of the drink. "Ah, that hit the spot." He set the drink down. "Good point. So why did she send you?"

Cameron paused.

"Don't ever play poker, you don't have the face." Opening the bag, House took out the sandwich. "Why are you here?" Unwrapping the top half, House took a huge bite. "Want some?" Cameron shook her head. "Hmmm, your loss."

"Cuddy is worried about you."

House scooped up some of the kraut from the wrapper and popped it in his mouth. "Cuddy is worried about getting the right sperm donor. Cuddy is worried about money donations; she doesn't worry about me."

Cameron waved at the air in frustration. "Okay, she was concerned. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. If she was really concerned, why didn't she come down here? Why send you?"

"Why not ask her? You're between patients, call her and tell her."

"Can't. I'm busy eating lunch."

"Lunch I bought."

"I didn't ask you to. You thought you could bribe me into confiding in you so you could run to Cuddy. You could have come right out and asked me."

Cameron raised her eyebrow in mock surprise. "And you would have told me?"

"After you ran down to the cafeteria and bought me lunch." House took another bite. "At least you saved a trip."

Cameron crossed her arms across her breasts. "Are you going to tell me, or am I going to ask Cuddy to set you up with a psych consult?"

"Oooo, happy drugs and delving into my deepest darkest secrets. Wonder which deep dark secret they would uncover first? Why I obsess with Cuddy's breasts, or the hours I spend trying to figure out what colour panties she's wearing on a particular day."

"Maybe they'll find out why you spend all your free time with Wilson, and why you are an ass."

"I'm sensing jealousy here." House took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. "Tell you what, the next time you get kicked out of your apartment, you can have the spare couch."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Comforting. How did we get from you doing clinic hours, to Cuddy's underwear, to your couch?"

"Natural progression." He finished the sandwich. "You brought it up, but the offer is still open." House balled up his garbage and threw it in the waste basket.

The silence grew. "Alright, if you must know, I need to leave early because I think Steve is ill."

"Steve?" Cameron blinked in surprise.

"My rat."

"I know who Steve is. What makes you think he's ill?"

"He didn't want his crutons this morning, and he wasn't on his wheel." House ran a hand over his eyes. "Just tell Cuddy I need to leave early." Grabbing a file, House threw a glance at Cameron. "I have to get back to work, as do you."

Cameron grabbed her drink and left the room. How was she going to explain this to Cuddy?

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Three oclock arrived and House, having seen his last patient, filed his patient folders and left for the day.

He didn't break any speed limits going home, but he did set a personal best. Opening the door, he paused to listen. The squeeking wheel was like music to his ears.

Laying down his backpack and helmet, House went directly to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Opening the bottle, he took a long swallow. It had been a difficult day, and though he had no intention of pulling a Groundhog Day, he knew that as long as Steve yo-yo'd, he would do whatever was necessary.

Limping into the living room, House turned on the stereo. The sounds of Ray Charles filled the room. Collapsing on the couch, he propped his feet on the coffee table and watched Steve.

He must have dozed because one moment he was listening to Brother Ray croon "Drown In My Own Tears", and the next the phone was ringing. He had hoped to let the machine answer until he heard Wilson's voice.

"House! I know you're there. What is going on? Are you feeling okay? Is Steve alright?"

House clicked on the phone. "Cameron has a big mouth." He stretched and yawned. Glancing at Steve, he noticed the rat was asleep; buried in his toilet paper cubby hole.

"Hey, she bought you lunch to bribe info out, maybe you should have bought her lunch to keep her quiet."

"And the next time you need a place to sleep, I'll make sure there's a pillow on the stoop." He popped a vicodin and took a swallow of beer.

"Hey, I like Steve. He's kinda cute, in a rodent kind of way. Scruffy, but grows on you. Kinda like his owner."

"You're not getting the pillow. In fact, you're not getting the stoop. I'm hanging up."

"Every time I think I find the real you, something changes just a little." Wilson chuckled. "You definitely caught Cuddy off guard."

"That why she sent Cameron down to spy on me?"

"She was concerned. We all were. Foreman and Chase bet that you paid someone to take your clinic duties and was hiding off in a closet somewhere with your tv."

"How much did you lose?"

"Cameron collected a hundred and fifty bucks."

House snorted. "My rat needed me."

"Is there anything you need? Want me to come over?"

"No, and no. I saw people non stop for eight hours. I want to be alone." House paused. "If I took a biopsy from Steve, would you test it?"

"Sure. But don't worry, Steve is resilient. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah." House hung up and wondered how in the world he was going to get a skin biopsy off of a rat.

Ray Charles finished and the CD changer moved into another selection. The melodic sounds of Robert Lamm's "Subtlety & Passion" enveloped the room. House limped into the kitchen for a second time that evening. Overwhelmed by hunger, he threw together a quick sandwich, which he devoured almost immediately, and grabbed another beer.

The phone rang again. "What ever happened to good old fashion peace and quiet?" Letting out a deep breath, he grabbed the phone.

"Yes, Cameron."

A long pause greeted him. "Um, hello. I-uh-well..."

"Steve is doing better. Congratulations on your win. By the way, I have caller ID. Helps me screen out the crank calls wanting my body from those wanting my mind."

"I still should consult with Cuddy about that psych eval. Minus the happy pills." Deep breath "How did you know about my win?"

"Wilson just called. Did you place the bet before or after you spied on me?"

"I didn't spy," Cameron sputtered. "Cuddy asked me to check on you."

"Spying, checking on one, it's all the same so don't bother pulling out your thesaurus. Hundred fifty. You can buy me lunch again tomorrow."

"Thought I might spend it on something to cheer up the little patient."

"He's just recovering and you want to fill him up with junk food?"

"And a crouton is healthy? I took nutrition, but I missed where croutons are a major food group." A pause. "I was going to get Steve some Reese's Pieces."

"Candy!"

"Peanut butter. Healthy. My brother fed those to his rat and it lived to be ten. Peanut butter is full of protein, complex carbs, and it releases serotonin." You should try some.

"Croutons are bread."

"High in fat and calories."

"For heaven's sake! he runs on a wheel all day; getting fat is not one of his worries," House snapped.

Silence followed. The quiet dragged out for a long torturous moment. For a second House believed Cameron had hung up, until he heard her take in a shaky breath.

"Tell me you're not crying."

"No, I was getting a swallow of wine while trying to contemplate how to figure you out."

"What's to figure? I'm me. I have never changed, and I don't plan to."

"Yet, you are nursing a rat. And you took clinic hours to leave early."

"But I snapped when you called crutons junk food. See, I'm back to my normal self."

"All but normal fits in that statement. I just find it almost human that you care for something other than yourself. Even if it is a rat from..." Cameron trailed off unable to finish.

"I suppose I'm to fill in the blank with 'Stacy'?"

"I was thinking 'her' in the pronoun."

"I see."

Again silence.

"House, look, I'm sorry. You've had a long day. Go get some rest. Steve may need you tomorrow, too. I'll see you. By the way, I made the bet before Cuddy called me. I have faith in you. Good night."

Before House could respond, Cameron disconnected.

He leaned back on the cushions and rubbed a hand over his face. What the hell was that all about?

Finishing the beer, he grabbed his cane and went to the bathroom.

Popping a vicodin, he got ready for bed.

House was asleep before his head touched the pillow.