Disclaimer- They don't belong to me, I belong to them.

11.30am- Outer office.

Foreman and Cameron sat next to each other, discussing the latest episode of a new medical drama that had aired on Fox the previous evening. Foreman thought it was ok, but that it had definitely been written by a white, middle class guy-Cameron had decided that she would never miss another episode since she only had eyes for the dreamy English actor playing the head doctor. Clarkson was fiddling with his personal organiser, thoughtfully running his finger down the list of phone numbers and wondering why it was that he didn't yet have Allison Cameron's on the list. He made a mental note that that was something he would have to address before the day was out. And as for Chase- well the very fact that he was physically present, if not mentally, was in itself, nothing short of a miracle.
House entered the room, casting an exacting eye over his band of merry men, Maid Marian and Chase.

'So, we meet again, still no cases, diddly squat. Anyone wanna play Jenga? Tiddlywinks? Or better still, Twister? That should kill a few hours, till we can all shimmy out of here.'

Foreman, in his usual manner, rolled his eyes, Cameron brushed at an imaginary fleck of dust on her lab coat, whilst Chase just cradled his head in his hands, emitting a low, moaning noise as he did so.

'Dr. Chase, am I keeping you up? You must have had one hell of a weekend, it's not like you to be so pale and uninteresting. Oh no, wait a minute, my mistake, yes it is.'

Chase raised his head very slowly, still clasping it as though frightened it may spontaneously roll off his neck. 'I'm certainly paying for it today, but from what I can recall, yeah, I had an awesome weekend.'

House cast an eye over Chase's appearance. His hair was even floppier than usual, his shirt unironed and barely tucked into his trousers& the tie was so hideously inappropriate for the rest of his outfit, House wondered if in fact he had simply been at Wilson's the entire weekend, playing dress-up in the closet.

'Well, I have to say Dr Chase, whatever look you were going for today, you missed- spectacularly. At least compared to poster boy Clarkson over here. How on earth are you ever going to win the affections of Maid Cameron if you come to work looking like Soupy Sales?'

Clarkson glanced at Chase, wry smile on face, as Foreman perfected his trademark eye-rolling manoeuvre. Cameron, who began to wish she had used rouge this morning to cover another one of her impertinent blushes, increased the rapidity of brushing off imaginary dust flecks, to the point where House wondered if she should be checked out for OCD.

'Well, in the absence of anything productive to partake in, I suggest we break for an early lunch, I know I've certainly worked up an appetite this morning. See you all back here about one o'clock, (he spots Cuddy in the doorway) unless that cheeky little minx Cuddy finds me first, and forces me into playing strip poker in her office. I tell you, the woman's insatiable ever since she went on hormone replacement following her gender reassignment.'

'Dr. House, may we step, or in your case, hobble, into your office for a moment?'

House sighed wearily. 'See what I mean? She's uncontrollable, no shame. Can't even wait until you guys leave the room, such an exhibitionist, what with all these glass walls. And so great that a woman of her advancing years doesn't mind letting it all hang out for others to see.'

Mildly embarrassed and yet amused at the same time, the troops left the office, as House reclined in his chair, cane laid across his lap, arms folded behind his head.

'Be gentle with me Dr. Cuddy, I only have 4 Vicodin left in my tub till I get a refill.'

'I see as usual you're rushed off your foot, Dr. House'

'Ah, Dr. Cuddy, or can I just call you Madam Funbags, now that we're alone together, I know at first to the untrained eye, it may appear that I am doing nothing, but in fact at the cellular level, I'm really very busy.'

Cuddy, having spent far too long observing Foreman's party piece, rolled her eyes. 'Well, tough as it will be to find a window in your over-stretched diary, I need you to make time today to do Dr. Clarkson's performance review. His three month probationary period is up, we need to see how he's doing, if he's settling in here ok.'
House grimaced. 'I'm busy right now, can I ignore you some other time?'

'House, this is not optional. I want it on my desk no later than 8.30 tomorrow morning, or Wilson can't come out to play after school.'

'On your desk? With my duff leg? Honestly, no consideration for my comfort.'

'The report House, not you.' And on that note, she click-clacked out of his office and off down the hall.