A very short chapter, guys – sorry, but at least short chapters mean there's more of them until we're done! Thank you so much, Pallada...I really enjoy(ed) writing it

too. Sorry, Rei, I know, I'm sad too. Guest, wow, I didn't even plan on that, but you're right! Thanks verlan, but I guess it'll be three more or something. Slowly paced

;)


For the next twenty minutes, Chase worked on the charts sent by Cameron while House mused, still thinking about the case. Suddenly, he got up and left the

room without a word. Chase narrowed his eyes at the closing door before deciding the department head would be completing his usual laps while

contemplating the case. He blinked...and then seized the moment, going online at last.


When House returned about ten minutes later, his duckling instantly closed the window he'd been using to talk to Janie. What he hadn't thought of, though,

was the reflection in the giant mirror right behind him.

"What was that?"

"What?"

"You just closed a chat window." Chase didn't even have the energy to try defending himself any more. He simply stared at his flowered bedspread gloomily,

nodding.

Before House could continue speaking, his familiar ringtone sounded.

"Yeah."

"She has trouble hearing."

"Go treat her then. Cameron, you can leave – Foreman, stay to observe."

Foreman was irritated. "What, all night?"

"Hot date?"

"No. But – "

Cameron sighed. "It's fine. I'll stay."

"No you won't. Suck it up, Foreman. And if it makes you feel better, Dr. Chase isn't going to get any sleep either."

Chase grimaced nervously and back at the hospital, his female colleague looked decidedly disapproving. "House, if he was sick, you need to let him rest!"

"Well, I'm not having him train for the marathon. He's sitting comfortably on his bed, organizing all those files you sent me."

"It's nearly midnight."

"So?"

"So..." Cameron gave in. "Never mind."

"That's my girl."


House hung up, glancing at his intensivist...and just for a split second, their eyes met. Chase frowned. The diagnostician looked...sad. Seconds passed, but to

both doctors, they felt like hours.

The Australian screwed up his courage, timidly asking, "House?"

"What?" his boss snarled.

Chase shook his head, biting his lip and shifting his gaze to the computer screen. "Nothing. I'll...I'll get back to work." The desperate look in the duckling's eyes

was too much for House. Finally, he cracked. "I'm sorry."

The younger doctor gaped, sure he'd misheard. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry. Don't get excited, I have said it before."

"Not to me..." Chase mumbled, and, at his employer's look, quickly added, "What are you sorry about?"

House shrugged. "I've been making you miserable."

"You...don't normally mind that." The Australian was clearly worried he'd gone too far already, but his employer showed no sign of having had enough. He did

seem to be struggling with something though, and didn't answer for a while. House was trying hard to convince himself it would be alright to give his duckling

an honest answer for once. He didn't normally allow himself to be drawn into conversations such as this one appeared to turn into, but...somehow, now, he

didn't feel like deflecting. Of course, the knowledge that he could have Chase trembling in the corner as soon as he got annoying helped. There was just

nothing threatening about the wombat. Hell, if he was told not to repeat the conversation, he would probably even keep his mouth shut about it... House took

a deep breath and shifted his gaze to the wall in front of him.


"I do mind. I always do."

The intensivist had been dreading his employer's reply, but now, he was stunned. He wondered whether he was simply being toyed with, but that seemed

unlikely, somehow. For once.

"Are you serious?"

House nodded. "I..." Chase's eyes got wide as he realised his genius of a boss was at a loss for words. That had to be a first. Rubbing his temples, the

diagnostician continued, "It's not that I like tormenting you." He waited for a response, and, at the lack thereof, looked at his minion. "That's rendered you

speechless?"

"Well...yeah."

"It's true though."

"But..."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Say it."

"I'd...rather not..."

"I won't get mad. Whatever you say. And you know I will if you refuse to answer."

Chase opened his mouth to reply and then closed it, before opening it again. Miserably, he muttered, "You do seem happy when you're making us suffer..."

House suppressed a grin. "I am, normally – sue me."

His employee sighed. "That's what I thought. But you just said..."

"That I didn't enjoy tormenting you. And I don't. Not lately."

The younger doctor blinked and bravely asked, "Why?"

"I don't know."

"Well, how did – "

"Shut up."

House had said those two words almost gently, but Chase was silenced at once, clenching his fists and refusing eye contact, not daring to move. He glanced at

House for instructions on what to do next. The diagnostician didn't look vulnerable any more. Instead, he seemed devoid of emotions.

"You have work to do."


Chase has accepted the interruption of the first real conversation he'd ever had with his boss, but that didn't mean he'd stopped thinking about what had been

said. The revelation that House felt differently towards him than to his other employees was enough to stun the Australian...he had not been made to feel

special many times before. After working for about half an hour, the glances Chase threw at his employer became more frequent. Soon, House noticed. "What

are you looking at?" The intensivist turned his head away quickly. "Nothing. Sorry."

The older doctor stared at his wombat for a while, letting him know he wasn't in the mood to play games, and Chase got the message. He even managed to

miss the moment his observation ended – simply because House had fallen asleep.


When all the information concerning their last patient was included in a single file, complete with standardized hospital logo and headings for all the procedures

done, Chase let his head drop tiredly. He jerked it right back up, though, remembering he was still in the same room as his boss. When he glanced at House to

find out whether he could sleep finally or would be assigned another task, the intensivist grinned in relief. The department head was fast asleep, snuggled into

his pillow. Chase shut his laptop and yawned. He studied his deeply breathing employer, taking advantage of the rare moment doing so would not earn him a

snide comment. Suddenly, Chase found he was standing up and creeping over to House's bed. He knelt down and felt like saying a prayer...but didn't. Instead,

he let his hand crawl over the sheets and stroked the other man's fingers lightly. Even in his sleep, House didn't seem relaxed. Chase ran his tongue across his

lips and slowly, carefully, crawled onto the mattress. He lay down, facing his boss, smelling the soap he'd used and closed his eyes. Even though he didn't

know why, he felt...content.