Chapter 2

Chromo26 (chewchewchew), QT Roo, ladyhound (the second they invented House, the potential for evil became great. Don't pin it all on me XP), Alipeeps (just keep that belief a-hangin') and HouseCat, your reviews made me squeal in happiness, and subsequently go into epileptic fits when my pancreas confused happiness with chocolate and sent my blood sugar levels soaring. Thankyou... so much... just... -sniffles-

Oh, and again... LIZ BETA'ED THIS! Not only does she read fanfiction, she beta's it too! Anyone, anyone at all out there in real life knows her (sorta brown hair, Austalian accent)... just walk right up and accuse her. You know you want to.

The three members of House's team were in a jubilant mood as they returned to the diagnostics office.

'It still feels kinda wrong,' Cameron tried to rationalise, although they could tell she was enjoying it as much as them.

'Aw, come on Cameron. You know he deserves it. This is our one chance at comeback for all his abuse.'

'And we might actually have a chance to catch up some work.'

'You mean catch up your crosswords?'

'Now that hurts.' Chase turned sincere eyes on Foreman, who cracked up again, setting the other two off. They were still snickering as they made their way to their respective desks. It was nearly half a minute before they realised what was wrong.

Picking up a medical journal with an article she'd been meaning to read for several days, Cameron flipped through it once, before putting it down and beginning to rifle through the piles of paper on the desk.

'Uh…' That was from Chase, his voice disturbed. Cameron could hear the sounds of paper-rustling in stereo from behind her, and spun around on her chair, hoping that she wouldn't see what she knew she would.

Foreman looked mildly impressed, as he stood and moved to the bookcase, pulling out a text book at random. Flicking through it, he blinked. 'That's impossible.'

'Apparently not.'

'The book too?'

Foreman nodded, picking out another book and checking. 'All of them. How the hell did he manage that?'

'It might not have been him. I was in here just before and it wasn't like this. And he's currently locked up in a psych cell,' Cameron reasoned, frowning. She had no idea how anyone could manage this, even if they were talking about House. Every single scrap of paper in the room was blank, the text simply gone.

The three of them looked at each other. 'So much for getting work done.'

'Or crosswords,' said Chase bitterly, holding up a blank sheet of newspaper with the grid of the crossword in one corner. Cameron stood up and moved closer to look at it, her face morphing from confused frown to amusement. The crossword was the only bit of ink that had been left in the room, but it had been filled out in black pen, the neat answers taunting Chase.

'He obviously knows your weak spot,' sniggered Foreman. Cameron froze, the words ringing through the room like truth. Chase noticed the look on her face.

'What?' He asked her, slightly worried.

'I just… I vote we stick together today. He's obviously set this up somehow, so there might be other stuff.'

'Yeah, that's probably a good idea.' Foreman nodded, sobering, although secretly, all three of them were enjoying the thrill of a challenge freshly presented.

'So what now?' Grumped Chase. 'It's not like we can get anything done in here.'

'We could sell tickets to see the amazing caged House,' Cameron broke down in giggles again, the thought of House in a padded cell just too good. Chase nodded thoughtfully, a wicked smile on his face.

'Not a bad idea. Come on. We can set up a base in the clinic.'

The three of them stood and headed down to the clinic together, not looking back at the room of the mysteriously blank paper.

They all took consults from the waiting room, spreading the word of the trapped House around the nurses between patients. To Foreman's great amusement, several of the patients had very interesting stories regarding their injuries and April Fools pranks, and the team immersed themselves in the work, perhaps foolishly forgetting the looming danger of pranks to themselves.

Cuddy was conspicuously absent from the clinic, probably having heard about House's incarceration. Generally, she didn't approve of foolishness in her hospital, but then, it was House. And really; he did deserve it. So she kept out of the way of House's team, because officially, she'd have to reprimand them. Unofficially, she'd sent an intern to get a photo of it, although he'd disappointingly returned with the news that House was out of view- probably sitting against the door.

Around morning break time, when the clinic was experiencing a lull, the three young members of House's team met up again outside exam room one, sharing a conniving look which said 'we've got our boss locked up in a padded cell. Isn't it fun?' No one mentioned it though as they agreed to go to the cafeteria to get some coffee.

Walking down the hall shoulder to shoulder, Chase dropped back for a moment to let a wheelchair past when he noticed something. Taking the yellow post-it notes off each of his co-worker's backs, he stepped up again, holding them out to them.

'What the…?' Foreman frowned as he read his note. Delinquent.

'I am not a whiner,' stated Cameron angrily, making Chase laugh. Cocking her head for a moment, Cameron reached around and pulled the post-it note off his back. Reading it before he could reach it, she laughed. He made a grab for it, his face contorting as he read it. Foreman snatched it off him without a fight, joining Cameron in her laughter. 'Rich brat,' he read out, fresh waves of laughter bubbling up at the scowl on Chase's face.

Quickly, Chase scanned the corridor behind them, but it was empty of anyone who could have planted the notes. They could have been done any time during their clinic hours though. He grimaced at the thought of how long he could have been wondering around with that stuck to his back. 'Oh, shut up, both of you. Come on, I want coffee.' He stalked off, Cameron and Foreman following with a few last snickers.

Standing in the lift as the doors closed, Foreman glanced up at the floor numbers, when bright red words on the ceiling caught his eye. He craned his neck up further to read them, noting with considerable bemusement that there was also an insulting cartoon pasted next to them. He tilted his head to the side, trying to work out just what it was he was supposed to be doing to the goat.

Chase saw him looking and glanced up as well, before looking down and hurriedly jumping into the corner of the lift, putting one hand on to each of the rails and lifting his feet. Cameron had reacted just as quickly in the same manner, but Foreman just stood there, puzzling now over the words.

'Your shoelace is undone?' He muttered, finally looking down at his feet. 'Ahh!'

Chase was cracking up again, although Cameron looked mildly disconcerted as her arms shook slightly from the strain. Foreman attempted to lift one foot, then the other, with no success. He swore, loudly and at length.

'Yeesh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?' The lift door dinged and Chase jumped out with a feat of acrobatics. Cameron had been in the closer corner, so she managed to slide out without too much difficulty. They stood on the floor outside the elevator, helplessly watching Foreman as he attempted again to unstick his feet.

'Close call,' commented Chase offhandedly. Foreman glared at him, holding the doors open with one hand.

'It's your runners,' pointed out Cameron, slight resignation in her voice.

'Duh it's my runners,' snapped Foreman.

'No, your weakness,' clarified Cameron. 'Something you'd be really pissed off about him screwing with.'

Foreman thought about this, realisation hitting. 'Hold the doors,' he told Cameron. She complied and he bent and undid his shoelaces, stepping one socked foot and then another out of them and on to the varnished wooden floor outside the lift. He gave a morose sigh, turning to look at his shoes, stranded, stuck, in the middle of the lift.

'I'd be really interested to know how he knew we'd take this lift. And that no one else would run into the glue before we did,' Chase speculated, looking a little spooked.

Foreman and Cameron shared a look, admitting nervousness. House could strike in any way, at any time, and he'd proven it twice.

'So…' Foreman narrowed his eyes, looking Cameron up and down once. 'What's something that would piss you off?'

'I don't get pissed off,' Cameron countered with a small smile. Chase snorted. She turned a withering stare on him, which he returned innocently. 'Anyone remember that coffee we were going to get?'

'I need some shoes,' grumbled Foreman.

'I still don't think we should split up. And…'

'What?'

'Maybe we should go check if he's still in the cell.'

'How could he have gotten out?'

'I don't know. But how would he have managed to cover the floor in there with fresh superglue right before we got inside?'

'Eh. He probably paid someone to do it.'

'Probably,' repeated Cameron meaningfully.

'Fine. Lets go.' Foreman stalked off, looking slightly less imposing without shoes. Cameron and Chase followed him dutifully, sniggering at his mismatched socks.

End Chapter 2. TBC