AN: Yeah I own, nothing, depressing isn't it! Hey thanks to all who reviewed. Here's touch... so if it seems a little weak, but I obviously still have to more chapters and then I'm planning another Lot, entitled Tease, Use, Bite & Bruise... Bear in mind though this is just a thought I'm very wishy washy... BigKiss. Oh, and I was just a little deathly ill when I wrote most of this... so be kind!

Touch

One catches more flies with a spoonful of honey than with twenty casks of vinegar.

Henry IV of France, Maxim

"What's the look for?"

"What look?"

"The smirky, catty, say goodbye to Fritz the canary look!"

"Fritz?"

House stood before the notorious whiteboard, considering their latest patient… The one who'd thrown her clipboard at Foreman after House made him question her about having an affair… Funny… But it wasn't why he was smirking, said facial expression having lifted higher upon remembering the conversation he'd had with Wilson earlier that morning. The smirk he'd had pasted on since his little interlude with Chase yesterday. It was a little alarming also though, since the last person who'd given him the same giddy little thrill was… Well, probably better off not making those connections. The blonde was such a fun little game though, with all different types of rules and rewards…

The duckling's chose this moment to amble in nosily, clipping short House's rather inappropriate thoughts. The smirk was ever present though, widening even more when House turned to find Foreman's eye starting to colour a nasty shade of brackish-green. The day just got better and better, well maybe not for Foreman but…

"The antibiotic's aren't working…" Cameron informed lamely.

"Well then I'm stumped, let's get drunk!" House said almost-pleasantly, brandishing a half-empty tequila bottle, which was half full of apple juice.

"House!" Cameron shouted, eyes widening.

"What? It's after twelve." House teased pouring himself a shot. He tossed back the liquid and dropped the glass onto the table. Feeling entirely pleased with the reaction, at least the one he got from Cameron. She gasped, mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. Foreman though, always supremely nosy picked up the abandoned glass and sniffed it.

"It's soda… or juice…" He sighed rolling his eyes.

"Spoilsport!" House pouted, actually in that good-a-mood. It was starting to dwindle though, because more annoying than Foreman's lack of reaction was Chase's lack of interest. The intensivist wasn't even looking at him; he had his head twisted to the side, rubbing his neck… frowning…

"Alright, back to the patient, everything has to be about them!" House only half joked.

"Her fever's up again." Cameron sighed, attention drifting to Chase.

"Chase are you alright?" She asked.

"Yeah, just pulled my shoulder… keep going…" He nodded, pulling a tube from his pocket and uncapping it.

"How far is 'up'?" House had to focus to catch Cameron's quite clear answer, because Chase had just unbuttoned his shirt… and House had the distinct impression that one of those very bad thoughts had just graduated into a full-blown hallucination…

"House?" Cameron again, interrupting his… oh she wanted an answer. House had to think about the question.

"Fever's high… What else…" He said off-handedly, snapping quickly back to reality when Chase started to rub cream into his bruised shoulder…

"She's started to cough up small amounts of blood…" Cameron frowned.

"We're pretty sure it's just a tear in her oesophagus." Chase shifted annoyingly. Trying to reach further down his back, along his shoulder blade, his button-up opened halfway to his navel. The material rigged up and showing off a creamy shoulder. The pattern so horrible, it just begged ripping off.

"You're pretty sure… gee how about you actually check!" House snarled, suddenly feeling very cagey and ruffled.

"Chase do you want… a-a hand…" Cameron asked colouring slightly, trying desperately not too.

"Actually… yeah… I can't quite reach the bottom of my shoulder blade." Cameron pulled herself out of her seat and House heard more than saw it because he had turned back to the whiteboard, looking over the facts… But not really seeing them at all… House's back was ridged and his mouth was dry, because not looking still meant he had to listen. Had to listen to Chase gasp, which was a sound, he should never have made because of Cameron.

"Sorry, did I hurt you!" Cameron gushed.

"No, your hands are just cold…" Chase almost-laughed… and House gripped the marker tighter, feel a streak of possessiveness that he'd never known he had slowly start to flare and as much as it surprised him… it shouldn't have… Just because House had never had any competition to bring it out before, he really should know himself better by now… After all wasn't Chase 'his' favourite game… God yes. The voice in the back of his head clawed. His game! His to taunt and kiss and… and House is just starting to realise how seriously in trouble he is.

"Oh god Chase this looks awful." Cameron fawns and House has the violent urge to dig her with something pointy and possibly diseased.

"It's really not that painful…" Chase frowns.

"It's more stiff than anything." Another clipped groan follows and House just can't stop the picture that flits behind his eyes. Where Cameron is kneading up and down Chase's shoulders, just below where his should meets his throat. Which was actually pretty accurate, only House's had all kinds of fun, twisted sub-text. Where Cameron's hands were moving with deliberate slowness, dragging coarse hands over Chase's perfect skin. Working on damaged muscles that were completely fine, she just wanted to touch him… and House was the only one allowed to do that! Worst of all was that Chase actually liked it! Wanted it! Knew what she was doing and didn't want it to stop. He wanted Cameron to…

Only that wasn't what was happening at all. House blinked and cleared his head. Cameron wasn't feeling Chase up, well okay so she probably was but… Well Chase didn't… He couldn't've wanted… The marker crackled and split open in his hands. House looked down at it dazedly… he hadn't even realised that… he was slipping off the edge…

"House are you alright?" Foreman asked and it was then that he realised they were all looking at him.

"I'm fine… now go check out the sick girls oesophagus!" House ordered… swiping tissues off the table and starting to scrub at his stained hands.

"And you quit feeling him up!" He snarled Cameron's hands dropped and her face flooded with a violent red, not unlike the colour now adoring his hands.

"Why House, you want a turn?" Chase smirked and House stared… Just stared stunned, mind blank, because Chase… couldn't be playing with him! Could he?

Then that calculating look melts to that too innocent look and House wonders if there was even another look to start with…

"Chase the only way I'd want to touch you is if I was contagious." House snorts, but it's lame and he knows it… They all do…