Title:Game Point (Pt.3 of An Aussie Scorned)

Summary: House pulls a prank. Chase wants to retaliate. Retaliation vs. SWS (Scared Wombat Syndrome)

Disclaimer: I don't own House or any of the other characters, nor am I making any money off this... true definition of a labor of love.

Author's Note: Comments are always welcome. Thanks so much for all of your comments in pt. 1, they were really appreciated. :) I'm glad you guys enjoyed it.


House stormed into Wilson's office, not bothering to knock. "You and I are gay, thought you'd like to know."

"What?"

"Haven't you heard? It's all over the hospital. "

The oncologist shot a confused look at the man before returning to his files as he shook his head. "Tell you what, go out, come back in, and repeat everything you just said with your english subtitles on."

"You've been proclaiming your love every hour on the hour. With roses, no less. Or so the hospital would be led to believe." Getting no response, he added, "It's payback."

"What, from an angry florist? I thought I was up to date on everyone you had pissed off." House sat across from Wilson's desk and put his feet up, directly onto the file the man was trying to read. Giving up on catching up on his work, he leaned back in his seat with a sigh, prepared to humor his friend.

"Chase was somewhat miffed that I let the hospital think you and he were burning the midnight oil."

"Thank you for that, by the way. That's just what I needed to deal with to boost my ego," Wilson interjected sarcastically. "Steve in radiology came on to me."

"So now," House continued as if he had never been interruped, "Chase sends me flowers under your name, every hour to get them to think that you're interested in me. I must say, between yesterday and today, your taste has vastly improved."

The pair looked up as Cameron entered the office with obvious discomfiture. She looked skittish as she handed over an envelope. "Some mail came for you."

"Well, it's in an envelope instead of a vase, so it's a welcome change," House said snidely. When she didn't leave, he raised his eyebrows. "I'm not tipping you."

"Is it true - "

"No," Wilson answered before House had a chance to, wanting to prevent anymore crossfire wounds to what was left of his reputation. "Spread that around, if you'd like."

"And Chase?"

House hid his smile and answered happily, "Well, he isn't, but his boyfriend sure is." Cameron rolled her eyes.

"House," she said reproachfully.

"Have you asked him yourself?"

"I haven't been able to get to him all day. He won't talk to us."

Wilson shot the grumpy diagnostician a look of disbelief. "So you took a team that was working fine together and now they aren't talking to each other... You thought this out really well."

"It's not my fault he can't take a joke, " came the defense. Cameron took this as an admission of Chase's heterosexuality and opened her mouth to chastise her boss, but he held up a hand, cutting her off. He pointed to the door and she took it as her cue to leave, but not before shooting him an annoyed look at his childishness.

There were a few moments of silence in which House contemplated Chase's retaliation. He said simply, "...Mine was better."

"What?"

"Come on, getting the hospital to think that the pretty Aussie is gay? Priceless."

"How is that any different from what he did?"

"People are afraid of me," the diagnostician answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "They'll shut up when I come around. Chase couldn't scare anyone if he walked up carrying a gun in one hand and a vial of the black plague in the other."

"So, the fact that they'll talk about you behind your back is better?" Wilson was struggling unsuccessfully to understand his friend's line of thinking. He ventured forward, attempting a bit of earth-people logic. "You do realize that this isn't an actual competition you have going on here, right? There's no trophy waiting for you."

"If it were a competition, I'd win."

"From what I've heard, he won six bouquet's ago!"

"Mine was calculated - it was beautiful. Pure tactics... When it comes to calculating, I'm advanced calculus; he's barely learning how to count to twenty without having to take his shoes off."

"Uh...huh," was all the response that the oncologist could think of. He trained to regain his mental footing. As well as he felt he knew House, there were always times when talking to the man made him wonder at his own logistical thinking.

The crinkling of paper could be heard in the otherwise quiet office, as the older man opened the envelope. A scoff called Wilson's attention to the paper currently held in the other man's hand. He reached over the desk and took the letter he was being offered. Brown eyes widened and a smile played on the oncologist's lips. "Well, the calculations for a price of ten dozen roses sure seems about right."

The enclosed letter had read, "Item: 9 dozen roses. Total cost: $725.00" However, the note of most interest to the two men, was the one that said, "Billed to: Dr. Gregory House."

Wilson couldn't help chuckling at his friend's expense. Seven-hundred-and-twenty five dollars of expense, to be precise. Handing back the bill, he questioned innocently, "So... would you like me to go have Chase's trophy personalized?"