CHAPTER 2:

I Have A Cunning Plan

Cuddy finally persuaded House to go to the clinic. Actually, she found him in one of the OB/GYN rooms, watching 'General Hospital'. She was so enraged she started beating him with his own cane. Fortunately, House decided that it would be best to go and do some of his clinic hours. He took his cane back, rubbed the fresh bruise on his arm, dry swallowed a few Vicodin, and limped off.

He took a patient file out of his inbox and flipped it open. He wanted to know what he was up against and arm himself appropriately. Just his luck, his first patient was a nine year-old with flu-like symptoms. House disliked children. Especially when they were sick and accompanied by their overbearing parents. He grabbed a few lollipops from a box at the reception. Not that he was going to offer any to the kid. He just felt like a lollipop. He pushed open the Exam Room door. Not bothering to introduce himself, he popped a Vicodin, put the bottle on the counter, and proceeded to the examination.

Little more than an hour later, House ambled out of the clinic. Technically, he still had two hours to do that day, but he was hungry and so stalked off towards the cafeteria. Besides, he had gotten through more than three quarters of his patients for the day, most of them sniffling children unfortunately. Flu season.

As he paid for his sandwich and chips, House noticed Chase and Cameron bent over a table, apparently in the middle of a heated conversation.

"Chase, you can't do this!" Cameron hissed.

"Calm down, will you? By next week it'll all be over." reasoned Chase.

"You remember what happened last time. He crushed his own hand and nearly killed a patient. He was exhausted and moody. Well, more so than usual."

"Textbook signs of withdrawal. But this time it won't be complete detox."

"What do you mean it won't be complete?" asked Foreman, coming up to their table. "I thought you were stealing his pills? How is that incomplete?"

"Well, Cameron thought that was mean, so…"

"It is mean. And what you're talking about now is still over the top." replied Cameron scathingly.

"So what are you doing now?" enquired Foreman.

"I'm going to…" Chase started.

However, he stopped short when he noticed House sitting a few tables away. Fortunately, he did not seem to have heard them, but continued intently reading his newspaper.

"…replace the Vicodin with…well…a bit of a special mix."

"'Special mix'?" Cameron asked apprehensively. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, just a little blend of Felixiatrin, and a bit a Vicodin, so that he still feels some pain, but not enough to rip our heads off from it."

"'Felixiatrin'?"

"A very strong anti-depressant."

"Where are you going to get this Felixiatrin?" asked Foreman.

"I know the guy who works at the pharmaceutical counter." replied Chase. "I just told him that I have a severely moody patient with intense leg pain."

"But how are you going to steal his pills to replace them?"

"I spoke to one of his clinic patients this morning. A boy named Tyler, I think. I said I'd pay him ten bucks to steal House's pills if he could."

"And he managed to do it?" Foreman asked, incredulous. "He never leaves out like that."

"Well, according to Tyler, House just put the bottle down on the counter. Then the kid managed to quickly sweep it into his pocket."

"So," said Foreman leaning towards the intensivist. "…you got them?"

Chase hunched over the table, blocking it from House's view. The diagnostician was still absorbed in his reading.

"Here." he said, pushing the small bottle to the middle of the table.

"Well I'll be." whispered Foreman, checking the label to make sure Chase wasn't bluffing.

"Why are you doing this, Chase?" squeaked Cameron. "Why now?"

"He tackled me, Cameron!" Chase hissed, as Foreman burst into fits of barely controlled laughter. "After all the insults, the mocking, the inane and useless tasks, this is the last straw."

"C'mon you two," said Foreman calmly. "Let's change these before he notices they're gone."

They filed out of the cafeteria, not paying much attention to House, who was still reading. However, had they watched him just a little closer, they would have noticed that his blue eyes had been fixed on the same spot on the page for the last ten minutes, and that a small, somewhat foreboding, smile was playing across his lips.