Thanks everyone for the wonderful reviews!!

I SHOULD be paying attention to my history of rock class….but I'm pretty sure I know more than she's gonna test us on about Bob Dylan already.

I still don't own House. Imagine that.

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Unfortunately for both of them, they slept soundly. Until they were both startled awake. "Whoa! What the hell?!"

Both men jerked awake, though Chase's eyes were the first to fall to the door. "Foreman…" House knew Chase didn't have the faintest idea what to say. He looked as if all the blood had been drained from his face. House struggled to sit up, biting his tongue to counter the pain in his leg. He needed Vicodin. First, though, he probably needed to say something to his newly disturbed employee.

"Good morning, Foreman. Sleep well?"

Foreman just stared at him, clearly in shock.

"Oh come on, you've seen people sleeping before. I bet plenty of people have seen you sleeping before."

Foreman shook his head, somewhat dazed. "Yeah but not like….. You two are…. Seriously?"

"Ok…bad grammar, and that made no sense. And our business, is none of yours."

Foreman turned halfway away, leaning against the doorframe with one hand. "Does… Does Cuddy know about this?"

"No. And she's not going to either. Right?"

Foreman hesitated, then nodded. "Sure. I don't care. What the hell am I saying, I guess I care. This is so…"

"Weird. Strange. Mind boggling. I get it. You're upset. I don't care." House relaxed back against the cushion, rubbing his thigh and grimacing. He had left his Vicodin in his jacket. Jacket was in the office. Damn. "What the hell did you want anyway?"

"Came in early to check on the patient's son. Just wanted to let you know that everything's fine."

"Not my patient anymore."

"Right." Foreman still wasn't making a move to go anywhere, was standing wide eyed as if the image of them sleeping on the couch was burned into his mind.

"Go do my clinic hours."

"Because I walked in on you?"

"Because I said so." When Foreman gave him a dirty look he smiled, glad that Foreman didn't know him well enough to see how pained it was. As soon as he was gone, he turned to Chase. "I need my pills. Now."

Chase swallowed hard, obviously still on edge from what had just happened.

"Now would mean NOW, not in 20 minutes."

"Sorry." He mumbled it softly and he didn't look at House when he left. House felt a moment of the tiniest regret for snapping, but it didn't last. If he wanted a relationship with House, best get him used to what he'd really be dealing with now. The sooner he gives up, the less I'll miss him. Everyone gave up sooner or later. Despite his fears and constant sarcasm, deep down he couldn't help but hope there'd be someone, other than Wilson, who wouldn't give up at all.

To Chase's credit, he was fast. He dropped the bottle down in House's hand, watching with barely veiled concern as he tossed back two pills. House sighed. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"I'm not… Dying. You don't have to look at me like that."

"You're in pain. It upsets me. Shouldn't it?"

House didn't know how to answer that. So he changed the subject. "What time is it?"

"5:30."

"Guess Foreman had some guilt issues."

"So did I."

"But you slept."

"I was with you." House looked up, the look on Chase's face betraying the fact that what had been said had slipped out against his better judgment. For once, maybe he wouldn't tease him about it. Not that he wanted Chase getting used to that.

"You might as well sit down. I'm not going anywhere until the Vicodin takes effect."

He leaned back, eyes closed. "Since my clinic hours are out of the way, think I'll head over to talk to Cameron."

"This early?"

He felt Chase sit down next to him. It was a pleasant surprise when he felt his hands on his leg, gently working the cramped muscle. "Later." He really was quite good at that. House groaned. "God, you're amazing at that. People would pay you."

"But you don't have to."

"And that's why I prefer you to a hooker." Chase's soft laugh made him smile. There was something about the sound that warmed him. Or maybe that was just the pills. He had taken two. Yeah, that was it. It had to be the pills.

HHHHHHHHH

(Kids)

"Is Cameron coming back?"

House dropped into his chair, twirled around and pulled up the Magic 8 Ball. "I don't know. Let's check. Hmmm…. It says…. Ask again tomorrow."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning not yet. But I'm working on it." He dropped the Magic 8 Ball and instead picked up a rubber band, which he promptly shot at the back of Chase's head. "What letter are you on?"

"O. Why are you doing this?"

"C'mon… You should know that. It's for show. Gotta pretend to punish you."

"Wilson and Foreman already know."

"But Cuddy doesn't. And she'll expect to hear about me treating you badly. If she hears anything else, she might come ask me about my feelings. And you know how I hate those conversations."

Chase rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. "Do I."

"Hey, hey, hey… Don't feel neglected. I told you you had a nice ass. Knowing you have a nice ass is a feeling."

"It's a thought. An opinion. But thanks. I guess."

House's phone vibrated and he pulled it up, scanning a text message from Wilson. "Wicked Witch of the Administration is coming. If I head out the other door, I might make it to the elevator before she catches me. Adios."

HHHHHHHHH

The following evening

House contemplated not answering the phone, but he grabbed it on the last ring. "Hello?" Not that he didn't know who it was.

"Hey. I was thinking, I could pick up dinner. Have something other than pizza for a change." Usually, he was glad to hear Chase's voice on the phone. Now… He had a vague sense of trepidation.

"If you want."

"You ok?"

"I'm fine."

"You want Japanese?"

"Whatever you want." He hung up before Chase could question that. No matter what they were eating, he knew this wasn't going to be a fun conversation.

HHHHHHHHH

He only had about a half hour to think about how to phrase it. Not that he spent it thinking. He was playing Bach when he heard the knock on the door. "It's open." He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge him in any other way, even though he knew he was smiling in his direction. He heard Chase walk over to the piano, felt him wrap his arms around him from behind.

"Hey."

He jerked his chin upward by a fraction. It was an acknowledgement, at least.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Chase pressed a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. "That's beautiful, you know." When House didn't respond, he tugged lightly on his shoulder. "Any way I can get you to come eat now and play for me later?"

"Maybe." His hands stopped on the keys, but he waited until Chase let go of him and headed to the kitchen for plates before he spoke. "Cameron's coming back to work."

"That's…Great! What did you offer her?"

Silence, except for the sound of cabinets opening in the kitchen.

"More money?"

Silence.

Chase paused, stuck his head out of the door frame. "C'mon, what is it? I'm fine with the money you pay me. I don't care what she's getting."

Yeah, you will. He took a deep breath. "No money. I'm taking her on a date."

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Ouch! Poor Chase…. Somehow, he's always the one that gets hurt. People should be nicer to wombats.

I'm going away for part of the weekend, but I'll try to get a chapter or two written. I'll see how it goes.