"I'm worried about Chase."

"What?" After the immediate shock of hearing House admit this wore off, Wilson smiled. "Wait, don't answer yet. I want to savor this moment."

"He's sick; I don't want my patients catching anything. Shut up," House ordered his friend. "I have a weapon, you know." He brandished his cane menacingly. "For a doctor, you can be so cruel. Teasing a cripple, tsk."

Wilson didn't stop smiling as he rejoined, "Oh, I'm not nice? Maybe Chase wouldn't be sick if you stopped torturing him. He's probably got an ulcer from stress, waiting for you to fire him. Why don't you just do it already, put the poor kid out of his misery?"

"'Poor kid'? What, his completely betraying me never registered with you?" To this Wilson tipped his head in a manner just carefree enough to indicate that he did not hold Chase's actions against him after the torture House had routinely inflicted in retaliation. "Fine. You're not my friend anymore." House stopped so abruptly Wilson nearly knocked him over, and squinted through the glass at his team. Chase was holding a coffee mug in both hands, staring at it as though he couldn't quite remember what to do with the drink. Foreman had an Economist magazine open in front of him, and Cameron stood near the coffeepot eating an apple and shooting glances she wished were covert at Chase. "Anyway, you think he has an ulcer so it sounds like the perfect case for you. When will you be in the clinic today?"

"Uh… actually, I am there at this moment if Cuddy asks. Why?"

"I'm going to send you a patient."

"Chase? You're going to--"

But House only smiled sarcastically and strode away, leaving Wilson somewhere between amused and mystified. Before Wilson thought up a retort shocking and logical enough to bring House around, the diagnostician threw open the door and limped powerfully towards his team.

"Good morning!" Only House could say those two rote words with enough emotion not only to give them meaning, but to make it perfectly clear that they meant this was not a good morning at all. "Everybody have a nice weekend? Great. Patient comes into the clinic complaining of nausea and headache, Cuddy--" the last word stated with unnecessary contempt, clearly implying that House couldn't disagree more "--thinks there's something there. So--" House uncapped the black marker and wrote on the whiteboard 'nausea' and 'drowsiness' "--let's be brief. What can't cause these symptoms?"

"What good will that do?" Chase asked.

"I was being facetious," House replied. 'You should know that, you moron,' his tone added. "Anything can cause nausea and headache, that's why this is a ridiculous case which should be treated with aspirin! So, obviously there's something more interesting--"

"Wait," Foreman interrupted. "Why would Cuddy give us this patient if all he has is a minor bacterial infection--which this probably is. And why don't we know anything else? Like the patient's age and gender, for example."

"Because Cuddy caught me getting into the elevator and told me a room number, so now you are going to get me a history."

Cameron asked, "What are you going to do?"

House furrowed his brow at her. "Are you sick?" he asked. "I'm going to make valuable use of my time. Like always!" At the very moment he was debating whether his Gameboy or his iPod was feeling the most neglected and was thus in the greatest need of attention. "Now go, get that history. Find me something interesting." The team collectively rolled their eyes and sighed as they headed for the door, not even bothering to point out that three people weren't needed to get a history. To no one's complete surprise, House called after them, "Not all of you. Doctor Chase--"

Why am I not surprised? Chase wondered half-heartedly. He turned to face House, awaiting the usual sadism--something like, Look up every cause of headaches known to man. Had House given him that assignment before? Chase could not recall. Just thinking about it gave him a headache. One for the list.

"I want you to go to the clinic." House waited for a moment, then asked, "Aren't you going to ask why?" He didn't need to add that Chase had spent nine solid hours in the clinic just yesterday.

But Chase shook his head. "No. I'm just going to go do whatever you say."

"Really? You'll do anything I say?" House was excited. "Go to the clinic. That's what I want you to do today. Tell them you're me and don't let Cuddy see you, she'll never know the difference."

"Okay." It was a much less painful assignment than Chase had expected. 'Go to the clinic'? House was losing his touch. Chase offered up a silent prayer in the corridor.

TBC