Chapter 3

To Charmed-angel4 (trampolines, all the way), Chromo26 (procrastination is the only word you need to know), paige fan (soon enough?), QT Roo (aren't they always?) and HouseCat (start the dramatic horror music), go my gratitude, my dignity, and my first born child. Enjoy the next chapter y'all! (personally, beyond here is where I reckon the story starts to get interesting -evil grin-)

'But, but… it's impossible!'

'You've already said that,' stated Chase darkly, surveying the empty padded cell from the threshold. Forman had stormed into the middle of the cell, spinning around once, even looking at the ceiling, just in case. Cameron stepped tentatively inside whilst Chase held the door open, doing her own inspection. They'd cautiously opened the be-warning-ed door when they hadn't been able to see House through the window, only to have their worst fears confirmed.

'Maybe someone let him out…' Cameron offered, a flicker of hope in her voice.

'Do you think any one in this hospital would let him out? I mean, Wilson's in on this with us, and there isn't anyone else in this entire building that would even dream of letting House loose on April Fools day after last year.'

'So how do you explain it?' Demanded Cameron irritably as Chase stepped forwards from where he'd been standing in the doorway, moving past Cameron and Foreman to pick up a discarded, white piece of paper lying previously unseen on the floor. They noticed him, and stopped bickering for a moment.

'Read it out,' commanded Foreman, and none of them noticed that the door had slowly started to swing closed.

'Um… "that wasn't very nice. Extra clinic hours for all of you." And that's it…' Chase flicked the paper over once, discovering words on the other side. ' "PS: watch the door," ohshitgetthedoor!' He exclaimed, making a dive for it and wedging a foot in the gap right before it swung shut. Panting slightly, he shared a significant look with the other two. They looked suitably nervous, very nearly having been caught in their own trap.

Clenching his jaw, Chase shoved the door open, holding it there so Cameron and Foreman could get out. They did so quickly, not wanting the danger of staying in that room a moment longer where House's tricks could catch up to them.

'Maybe he can walk through walls,' offered Chase. Foreman turned back to give him a scathing retort, when something on the door caught his eye.

'That… hypocrite!' he spat, using all the vehemence of a particularly foul swear word. Bending to inspect the lock, just to make sure, he nearly growled.

'What?' Asked Cameron, extremely curious.

'See these?' Foreman indicated some small scratches on the metal of the face of the lock. 'He picked the lock, the bastard. Nothing magical. But that ain't a skill you pick up by leading a strictly lawful life.'

'Hah. Figures House would have some larceny in his background. I wonder if Wilson knows about it?'

'Probably, but there's no way he'd be telling.'

'He helped us get House in there,' pointed out Cameron.

'Should have helped us search him,' grunted Foreman sulkily. 'We need a plan. At the moment, we've got no hope of countering him. He's on the loose and striking at will.'

'So what do we do?' Asked Chase, essentially underlining the flaw in Foreman's theory. How did one protect oneself from the evil pranks of a genius cripple?

'We could find him. If he's in our line of sight, that at least limits the damage he can do.'

'Good idea.'

The cell door swung shut behind them as they walked away, but none of them noticed the sign pinned to the door now simply read 'beware.'

oo00OO00oo

Late, the night before

Wilson stumped into his office, tired after a long day, hell, a long month. He just wanted to go home to his wife and dinner. Flicking the light on with one hand, he nearly screamed when he saw who was sitting behind his desk, feet propped up on the expensive wood. House looked amused at his reaction.

'You know, an oncologist dying from a heart-attack is just a bit too ironic for my liking,' grumbled Wilson, taking in the sight of House. Something was definitely up, with that devious look on his face. It always boded ill for Wilson behaving responsibly.

'Only because you'd be the one doing the dying. Everyone else would just be amused.'

'Just so long as you don't read my eulogy. What do you want?'

'Dr. Wilson, I'm wounded. Why would you think that I need a reason to lie in wait for my best friend in his office, in the dark, long after everyone else has gone home?'

'Oh gee. I wonder.'

'OK, you caught me with your witty re-buttal. I'll cut to the chase, metaphorically speaking. As you are probably aware, tomorrow is the first of April.'

'Planning to cover the hospital with toilet paper?' Asked Wilson tiredly, not feeling up to matching the wicked glint in his friend's eye.

'I was more referring to your plans. Or to be more specific, the plans that my loving employees have convinced you are a good idea.'

Wilson tried to school his features into sceptical ignorance. 'What are you talking about?' There. Not strictly a lie… damn, he was doing that piercing stare thing. A see-all look on his face, House abruptly flicked on Wilson's desk lamp and turned it so the beam fairly blinded him, inquisitor style.

'I think you know what I'm talking about Dr. Wilson. And I'd like it very much if you'd make a decision for me right now.'

'Sure. Wear the blue shirt tomorrow, it goes with your eyes.' Wilson squinted against the bright light, going for flippant, but knowing he was terminally busted. He wasn't sure why he'd thought the well planned prank would get past House.

'Noticing my eyes now Wilson? Something your wife should know about?'

'What do you want House?' Wilson repeated, slightly irritated.

'You have two options. One, you can continue with your evil plans of betrayal, get into bed with my team- metaphorically speaking or not if you will- or… you can take the more reasonable road.'

'Uh huh. And what have you got to offer me to recompense for the potential loss of getting to lock you up in a padded cell?' Wilson pretended to play hard to get, but he knew he'd agree to whatever House was asking. If he'd already discovered the Plan, then it would be stupid not to.

'Well for starters, you'll still get to do that. And let me just say… evil plans are looking like a very bad move for you. I checked your horoscope. It said something about ending the day covered in shaving cream and feathers with every person in the hospital knowing about your little underwear fetish.'

'That's low House. It was only once, and only because you dared me to.'

'You should have known better. So? What's your answer?'

'What would I have to do?' asked Wilson suspiciously, starting to get drawn in.

'Yes or no first.'

'Yeah, I'll help.' Wilson sighed. His common sense stormed off in a huff. He ignored it.

'Excellent… for the moment, I simply require you not to tell my darling minions that anything is amiss. More instructions will be revealed in the fullness of time.' House flicked the lamp off and whipped his left leg off the table, spoiling the effect slightly by having to carefully lift his right leg down by his pant-leg before he could spring to his feet. Nodding once in a conspiratorial manner to Wilson, he exited, the thumping of his cane fading into the darkness of the hallway. Wilson found he had a goofy grin on his face. April Fools Days were always interesting at PPTH.

End Chapter 3. TBC.

ps. Liz beta'ed that one too.