A/N: Ah, well no reviews for chapter three, but onwards and upwards, troops! Everyone's gotta start somewhere! I hope at least one person is enjoying this, for if that is so, this is doubly worth it! (doubly because I'm enjoying writing it!) Have a good night, everyone. Uhm - the quote at the start is from the song Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls. :D And I don't own the computer I'm typ - oh wait. I do. Never mind.

Chapter 4: Vortex

"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you'd bleed just to know you're alive..."

The next Monday, and Chase's word was kept. They were both prepared for the flight to Chase's home country. Despite her misgivings about the trip, Cameron was rather looking forward to visiting a foreign country.

"It's really not too different," Chase put a dampener on her excitement. "It's just kind of a smaller version of America." Then he wrinkled his nose, as if dissatisfied with the vague explanation. "Well, not really. It's hard to describe. But there's no huge culture difference. Not like Hong Kong or some country like that. It's just…" he shrugged, at a loss for further words.

Hours later, they touched down in Sydney. Chase's eyes were alight, he was ecstatic to see the city again.

"It's been so long!" he said as they got off the plane. "You know what I want?" he asked, turning to Cameron.

"What?" she asked, humouring him.

"I want a vegemite sandwich! And a cold Milo!"

Cameron laughed. "Sounds dubious," she replied.

"Not so!" he said. "Come on, let's traipse to Darling Harbour. Taronga Zoo, the Opera House, the Harbour Bridge…"

She stopped him. "I don't know if you've noticed the huge suitcase on the end of your arm, but I've noticed mine. Where does this cousin of yours live? And while we're on that topic, does she even know you're coming?"

"Nope!" he said, grinning. "Doesn't have a clue."

"What if she's…" Cameron clamped her mouth shut, then changed her tack. "Moved?"

Chase smiled. "You were going to say dead, weren't you? Come on then, we'll save Sydney's highlights for another day."

She nodded, staring around. "It is different." she said. Chase looked at her. "I can't explain it," she continued, shrugging. "It's a different vibe."

Chase snorted with laughter at her choice of words. "'It's the vibe of the thing,'" he quoted.

"What?" she asked, perplexed.

Chase grinned. "Never mind. Aussie movie reference."

She shook her head at his antics and hefted her suitcase higher, getting a better grip.

"So where does this cousin live?"

Chase grinned yet again. "Want to take the train or the bus?"

------------

"You let them both have two weeks off at the same time? Besides the fact that it is inefficient… it's a little quirky! "

Cuddy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well now you put it like that…"

He glared at her. "Fine," he said. "You're choosing who replaces them. I'll be damned if I'm put through a bunch of people telling me how cool I would be as a boss, or how much they just want to 'do the world a favour' or how…"

"I get it," she said stridently.

There was a rap on her door, and two sharply dressed, stern-faced men strode into the room without waiting for the okay. House refrained from the obvious witticisms to be made from this development.

"Lisa Cuddy?" one of the men asked.

"Yes?" she replied, standing up.

"We have a warrant to search your office, and anywhere else, if necessary."

The news slammed into her, and sent her nerves on a trip around her body.

"May I ask what this is concerning?"

House jumped in. "May I ask to see that warrant?" He had his suspicions.

The first man regarded him coolly.

"Sure," he replied, and handed over the piece of paper. He turned to Cuddy as House perused the document.
"We have had a complaint that you are harbouring an unlicensed weapon in your office."

House raised an eyebrow at Cuddy, but only for effect.

"Detectives, excuse my presumption for a second… but do indulge me."

The older man stopped his search and waited for House to continue, while the younger one kept rummaging through the numerous cabinets and counters.

"Why is a detective of your apparent prestige searching an office for an unregistered gun?"

The detective wrinkled his nose. "I'm at liberty to divulge details regarding the investigation. However I can tell you that the piece of weaponry is suspected to be part of an illegal arms dealer's ring."

Cuddy blanched, face white. Her hands were clutched together. House had never seen her this nervous. The pieces fell together.

She does have one! He could have laughed. Their encounter with 'Brian' on Friday must have rattled her more than House thoughts.

"Illegal arms dealer?" he muttered out of the side of his mouth to her. She implored him with her eyes, but he didn't know what he was asking her. Truth be known, neither did she. Not to leave, maybe? In any case, he did not.

She was scared. If what the detective said was true, then she could be in big trouble. She would definitely lose her position at the hospital, and the extras were unthinkable!

It was here, they'd find it. She was stupid, stupid to have brought it with her, but to leave it at home with Rachel was really not desirable.

Nor was being dragged off in cuffs, she thought miserably.

"Here it is," the younger detective said, placing the gun in a plastic bag, and turning to his superior, who inspected it. He sighed heavily.

"Not the one we were looking for." Cuddy breathed a discreet sigh of relief. "Nonetheless, you are still in trouble, doctor. Unregistered, no license…"

House jumped in, not liking the man's pushy nature. "So that's where I left that old thing!" he said. "Dr. Cuddy! Why didn't you remind me?"

"It was so long ago," she said, jumping on the excuse, against her better judgement.

"Sorry detectives, the gun belongs to me. I know, I know, it's unregistered…but…" He sighed. "I guess it slipped my mind."

"You can't prove it belongs to you!"

"I have papers," he bluffed.
"Oh?" the older man said, raising an eyebrow. "Papers for an unregistered weapon?"

"Well of course I don't mean official papers," he said, rolling his eyes. "Papers from the guy who sold it to me. It was aaaaages ago," he said, extending the word. "In Nevada, I think." House paused, for effect. "Or maybe it was Nebraska. I really don't remember." He shrugged. "I do have a license, however."

The detective scowled. He was not used to performing mundane duties such as chasing up gun licenses. He had been sure that their informant (consequently the secretary of the accused) had described the weapon they had been after for seven months. It had been involved in a robbery and two murders, so it was highly sought after.

"Get the alleged 'papers' along with your gun license and a truckload of ID and proof of anything else even remotely related to this and hand it in to the station by the end of business today. And you're not getting the weapon back."

House sighed and made to complain, knowing if he gave up the weapon too easily, he'd give the game away, but the detective jumped in.

"Save it," he said wearily. "No arguments."

House nodded, as if chastened, and fell silent, waving glibly to the detectives as they left the room with the gun. Cuddy sighed in sheer relief and fell back into her chair. She looked at House, who had flipped out his Vicodin bottle and was dosing up.

"Thanks," she said.

"You bought a gun?" he asked. "Tsk tsk."

She shook her head. "I had my reasons."

"Is that delightfully helpful girl from last week one of those?"

She looked at him. "Yeah. Also the whole 'I'm going to kill you' thing on Friday."

"Mm," he said. "Things like that tend to do that, don't they? Thank god Foreman wasn't there or he would have gone AWOL on me as well."

"Yeah, thank god for that," she said dryly. She paused. "Why do you have a gun license?"

He gave her a superior look. "Tis a screwed up world in which we reside," he recited.

"No kidding," she said wearily.

He paused.
"Did you get any papers with that thing, perchance?"

She shook her head. "Looks like you're going to have to do some fast scribbling."

He grimaced. "Fun fun. But was it Nevada or Nebraska?" he asked. She managed a weak grin in his direction.

"Don't you have clinic duty or something?"

A thought hit him. "Didn't you just have an illegal weapon in your possession…or something?"

She scowled at him, but really it was the least she could do to repay him and was more than happy to alleviate him of the task.

"I'll have someone else fix that up," she said. He grinned.

"I knew I was the best bullshit artist in the world for some reason…" he said, before turning to leave. He stopped, and turned, however, as if remembering something.

"Oh, and Cuddy?"

"Mm?"

"You might want to fire your secretary."