Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Chase-centric fic. May contain spoilers for all episodes through 'Forever.' No ships yet. WIP.
Summary: Why isn't Chase rich? And what other secrets is he hiding?
The Vice of Charity
House: You've been double-dipping. Taking your vacation time here while drawing a salary at NICU. Strange… rich boy doing all that for some extra cash.
Chase: I'm not rich.
House: But your dad was…Now he's dead. If you're not rich, that mean that daddy cut you out.
Chase: I'm not rich.
House - Forever
He was waiting for her again. He waited in the shadowy corner, hidden away from the brilliant morning light that penetrated her office. The rich chocolate leather was cool, almost icy to the touch. Exposed to near-continuous blasts of air conditioning and shielded from the sun's warming rays, it caused shivers to run up his arm when he touched it with his bare hand.
He watched her stride in, purposeful and determined, every movement projecting her chosen image: a career woman who had it all. You'd never guess that she wanted more. He didn't know why he'd chosen to keep her hidden agenda a secret, but he had. At the same time, he thanked his y chromosome for not providing him with a nagging internal clock that bleated: Baby, baby, now, now!
"You and Chase both lied to me." His rough voice broke the silence.
She sighed, unceremoniously dumping her purse, jacket and a few other nondescript items on her desk. "Stop breaking into my office, House," she demanded.
"Not until you tell me why Chase is using his vacation time to work in the NICU. And why you broke protocol to allow his vacation request to be approved without going through his immediate supervisor." He paused, then continued, "That would be me, in case you forgot that as well." He stood then, and hobbled without his cane over to her desk. She had decided to ignore him, choosing instead to focus on the stack of mail at her desk.
"Those ridiculous trade journals can wait, Cuddy," he chided. "It's not like they've got anything new to say. It takes them ten years to run a study, another 2 years to write the article and then another year to get all the commas right so they can publish it. And then every sentence is footnoted to an older study." He was clearly enjoying this. "Oh yes, and then there's the conclusion – my favorite. 'More studies are needed.' You don't actually waste your time reading these, do you?" he asked, picking up a stackful of the journals in question and dumping them in her trash.
She looked up at him then, and frowned.
"Hey, you're the one who was hiding behind protocols last month when Foreman was dying. So, let me get this straight: It's ok to break protocols for a rich white kid who needs a few extra bucks because his trust fund check is late this month, but it's not ok…"
"House!" She exploded before he had time to finish. "Chase came to me and asked for the time off because you never signed the paperwork he left on your desk two months ago." She drummed her manicured nails exasperatedly against the smooth finish of the oak desk.
"He never told me about the paperwork."
"Yes, I did, House. Twice, in fact." Chase's voice hit House hard from behind, causing him to spin around too rapidly on his right leg. He winced in pain and glared at Chase.
"Easy on the cripple, ok?" he said menacingly.
Chase rolled his eyes at House and then looked to Cuddy for help. House swiveled his head back to stare at Cuddy as well, who was looking at him as if to say, "See?"
House shrugged. "Cameron must have lost it. Probably couldn't stand the idea of going two weeks without her little wombat lover."
"House!" Chase and Cuddy's voices cried out in unison.
House hobbled back to the couch and picked up his cane. He was nearly to Cuddy's door before he turned around to address them one last time. "I'll find out, one way or another. Secrets" - and here he gave Cuddy a knowing look – "never stay secret for very long around this place."
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"Hey Chase," Cameron's green eyes were bright as she welcomed back the veteran member of their team. "We missed you."
Chase smiled warmly at the team's sole female member. Cameron's niceties had once irritated him, until he found that her niceties were in fact, sincere. When Cameron asked how you were doing, you didn't have to answer "Fine," whether you felt fine or not. You could tell her exactly how you really were feeling, and she'd commiserate or rejoice with you. After working alone with her for six months, he'd been rather unwilling to share her with Foreman. He wanted to believe that her concern was reserved for him alone. But Cameron shared her compassion equally amongst the team, even though it rewarded her more often than not with tears and hurt feelings. He had never hurt Cameron, at least, not in the way that Foreman and House had.
He managed to rein in his frown until after he'd turned his back on her, not wanting her to misinterpret it. If he was honest, really honest with himself, he'd probably hurt her worse than Foreman and House had combined. He'd used Cameron in the worst possible way there was to use a woman and had then coolly pushed her aside like soggy corn flakes. Sometimes, he really hated himself.
"So," she continued, blissfully unaware of the real reason behind his absence, "What'd you do to Cuddy to get assigned to the NICU for two weeks? House said you needed a break from him, which is believable, but for as long as you've been around, I just don't buy it. You've been through worse with him and didn't need a break then."
"Cameron?" he began as gently as possible, not wanting to completely alienate the last person who cared about him. "I don't want to talk about it now, ok?" His words came out harsher than planned, the way they so often did. Why did he snap at people like that? No wonder everyone thought he was a spoiled rich brat. He certainly sounded insolent enough to be one.
She blinked, a bit taken aback by his abruptness, before her buoyancy returned. "Okay," she softly agreed.
Chase winced at the pain that had crept into her voice. "Cameron, do you want to get some coffee this afternoon?" he asked, turning around to face her. But his eyes met only with her empty chair, and he looked through the clear glass to see her hurrying down the hall towards the bank of elevators, unsuccessfully attempting to clip her beeper back to her belt.
Chase sighed. Some vacation. All he got was a lousy two weeks a year and he'd spent every single day of those two weeks in this hospital. It didn't look like they had a case at the moment either, although Cameron was liable to return with a potential one at any moment. He glanced warily around the empty conference room, then sank down into one of the chairs and pulled out his laptop from his bag.
TBC...