Drabble 26: Who's Boss?
"Don't put your hands on me," House hissed warningly, standing in a dark parking lot with Chase. They were glaring at each other, expressions of loathing.
"I've taken enough of your bullshit," Chase spat, pushing House roughly. "I don't feel bad for hurting a poor cripple like you, House."
The older man laughed. "This'll mean nothing when you get fired tomorrow."
Chase snorted. "I don't want this job. I hate you."
The punch had hit him before he saw it, and the cement met his head as blood drained, red like roses. House stood with his fist raised, heart pounding.
Fin.
