Title: Number the Stars
Author: Angelmecool
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own House.
Summary:
It had been a warm October day – what the weatherman called an "Indian Summer" and the night was indifferent save a cool breeze. It had been a bad day at the Department of Diagnostic Medicine. They had diagnosed the patient but she was still going to die. All that was left was to write a case report. Cameron was at home crying herself to sleep for a another life lost and House was enjoying a nice glass of scotch basking in the glow of figuring out the case. Chase and Foreman were left scribbling down notes about a nearly dead woman. Chase's contacts started to shift in his eyes so he looked up for what meant to be only a second but before he knew it he was staring off in space for what seemed like several minutes. It suddenly seemed stuffy and hot in glass conference room. Looking across the table Foreman was staring blankly at the piece of paper in front of him, pen still poised as if he was writing.
"Let's go outside." Chase said abruptly, almost surprising himself. Foreman looked up at him as though he had been woken from a daze.
"Where?" Foreman crinkled up in an annoyed way. Chase made an elaborate gesture at the balcony off House's office. "That's… we're not really supposed to go there." Chase looked at him incredulously.
"I've been there millions of times! Besides how's he going to find out?" Chase replied cockily.
"I'm okay, I want to just get this done." Foreman rubbed his neck and began on the case report before Chase snatched it from him.
"Gave Miss Lorenzo fifty-five dogs and a schizophrenic kitten reaction." Chase read from the paper "Hum, must have missed that part." He got up and walked though House's office toward the balcony.
"I'm coming!"
It was a cool but windy New Jersey night. The lights from the city made it nearly impossible to see the stars.Chase stared at them anyway as if he could see a perfect world or at least be back home in Australia.
"Do you miss Australia?" Foreman said rather abruptly.
"I'm going back tomorrow night." He found himself saying on impulse still staring at the stars.
"That's sudden." Foreman replied intelligently. He didn't reply and there was a long silence.
"Something happen with your family? You seemed kinda far off today." Foreman was looking at him curiously. Everyone must have wanted to ask him this all day. He turned his head from the stars and the weight of the day dropped upon him.
"My father died." He said simply. Rowan Chase didn't 'pass on' or 'leave this world for a better place'; he kicked off for god's sake! He received a phone call during break and that was it.
"I'm sorry, what happened?" Foreman said and to his surprise seemed somewhat concerned. He and Foreman never got along. They were opposites and no matter what an 80's pop star says, opposites don't attract. It shouldn't matter to Foreman that his father had died from lung cancer without telling him.
"Lung cancer." Chase sat down on the ledge of the bed of rocks and started to play around with the rocks inside it.
"Oh that must've been hard to watch." Foreman replied sympathetically and joined him on the ledge.
"I can only imagine." Chase mumbled bitterly. Staring at the rocks.
"You didn't know," Foreman replied airily, "that bites." Chase looked up at him incredulously. His eyes were murky green in the moonlight.
"Yeah it really bites." Chase growled angrily and held his head in hands. A Czech-Australian voice in his told him: You can't lash out at people, Robert. He heard Foreman stand up and start to open the door. "Sorry." Chase said sincerely and his coworker stopped in his tracks.
"It's all-" Foreman started to say before Chase cut him off.
"My father used to tell me not to lash out." Chase looked up to his coworker, "or interrupt." Foreman gave him for the first time. Foreman looked almost sexy when he smiled.
"And you obviously didn't listen." Foreman teased him.
"I suppose not." Chase replied mournfully. Foreman sat down next to him and put his hand on the mourning man's shoulder. It was strange. Chase ran his fingers though his hair. He caught a glimpse of his hair and sighed.
"Damn. My hair." Wait a second was that out loud? No no no rewind!
"What's wrong with your hair?" Foreman asked quizzically.
"Umm it's greasy." Chase lied and the other man knew it.
"You suck at lying."
"I listened to my mother, she told me never to lie." That wasn't a lie, not at all.
"So you're not a natural blonde." Foreman sighed, he seemed almost disappointed.
"What did you lust after my perfect golden hair?" Chase teased. Foreman squirmed and turned red around his ears. He was blushing and the golden boy seemed almost flattered. As it turns out flattery gets you everywhere. Truth time.
"My hair is naturally too blonde. It makes me stand out. It's too flashy. " Foreman raised an eyebrow at him. "It's like… It's the color of… of…"
"Let me guess, all the sunshine in Australia." Foreman finished for him and Chase smiled.
"My grandmother used to tell me that." Chase replied.
"Prove it." Foreman challenged him.
"I have an appointment with my hairdresser tomorrow. If you drop me off at the airport you'll get to see it." They both simultaneously smiled.
0oooooooooooooooo
Foreman pulled up in front of Chase's town house. Chase opened the door dragging a large suitcase with a small duffel on top. He stepped into the sunlight and Foreman did a double take. He was wearing an elegant black suit with a straight black tie. He didn't know what color sunshine was but his hair was as close as he'd ever get to finding out. It was a light gold that almost looked yellow in the sunlight. As Chase brushed his hair out of his face, Foreman could've sworn he saw plantinum streaks. It gleamed in the sunlight and made him look angelic, well an angel in trying to pretend to be a businessman. He must have been staring because Chase blushed the way only fair skin could.
"Wow, you're hair is the color of sunshine!" Chase blushed even more.
"Hello to you too." Chase replied trying to sound normal. Foreman started to get out of the car to help Chase.
"I got it." He popped the trunk and loaded his luggage. He walked around the car and sat down. Foreman just noticed he was holding a black hat obviously intending to wear it.
"Is it some sort of Aussie tradition to arrive at the airport in a suit?"
"No, of course not. I just probably won't have time to change. My step-mom, Melona or whatever, is picking me up from the airport. She'll immediately go into funeral details. It's going to be a nightmare. You're probably going to be able to watch his funeral on TV." Chase explained grudgingly.
"Hmmm sixteen hours plus hours in a monkey suit, I don't envy you." Foreman replied conversationally. As they pulled onto the high way Chase put on the hat. It looked like a safari hat crossed with a dumb-dumb hat minus the net. Foreman chuckled.
"It doesn't look that bad does it?" Chase whined pulling down the mirror.
"Yes it does."
0oooooooooooooooooooo
Foreman pulled up to the airport entrance. Chase got out of the car (still wearing his ridiculous hat) and got his luggage out of the trunk.
"Thanks for ride, mate." Chase said good-bye much more confidently then he felt.
"No prob, man. Take care." Chase two steps though the door before spinning around like he was being attacked. His face had a look of terror to match. Foreman rolled down his window.
"I don't want to go back! I don't want to see Melano or whatever her name is. I don't want to wear a monkey suit. I just want-" Chase started frantically.
"Hey, you'll be back in a week right?" Foreman interrupted.
"Yeah, I suppose." Just then their faces seemed so close they could've kissed and for a second they both thought they were. Instead Foreman reached his hand out and snatched that ugly hat right off his head.
"See you when you get back from Oz." Foreman said driving away into the sunlight. Chase stood speechless for a moment. Then he smiled, he would be back next week.
AN: Yes I had to give Chase perfect hair.