Chapter 20: Blanket

A week later: you could say everything was back to normal.

In a way.

They didn't really talk about what had happened much in the hallways, in case somebody got the drift about their conversation, and Chase would be all over them with the disloyalty card if they did that. Cameron had found that their latest 20-year-old male patient was great to smother, and House didn't really give a stuff about Foreman and Racknell, not even if they were having sex (according to he nurses, it was in a cupboard on the fifth floor, but it seemed out of character for both). Idnax had curtly come into his office one morning and promptly gave up her trial fellowship. She seemed disturbingly in love with her new little girl, so House let her go. More like kicked her out the door.

Even sadder, Cuddy had caught him being "busy" with Wilson while watching Pinky and the Brain and doing something else with a deck of cars. The Punishment was highly cruel and unusual: clinic duty. Only there was something new about it this time: the nurses were actually feigning a chance at him not escaping by keeping an eye on the door of Exam Room Three. So, after a period of forty-five minutes, he peeked out. Nobody stared back. So much for high security!

Hang on, there was, one reason why they weren't paying attention. All of the women in the clinic wearing that rose pink were crowding something around the door. The only thing that got the nurses interested was gossip, babies, and Chase. That could be it. Rising up to straighten out his dodgy leg, House grabbed his cane and limped out the door.

The closer he got, he could hear more cooing noises and awes of adorement. And the cause of the commotion; Chase. He had one of those "Get me out of here!" looks on his face and hands wrapped defensively around a white bundle. Maybe he does need bailing out.

"Aww, she's adorable!" a random nurse cried. House didn't know how she could tell; the baby was hidden pretty damn well. Chase nodded in forced agreement while trying to find a way out their circle of curiosity.

"Who's the momma?" another one of the random nurses piped up. House thought now might be a good time to intervene with something to piss the nurses off back to Pussy-land.

"You're drooling over him."

The nurses turned to him, some stared like he was crazy, others just gave a "whatever" look and went off to do something else. Nurses at PPTH: Like the nightmarish cheerleading, attention-grabbing girls all over again. Chase shuffled around on his feet again and breathed a word of "thank you".

"I thought they'd never go away." He mumbled, cocking his head to see if any were coming back for "doorknob questions".

Leaning hands on cane, subtle smile on his face and a wink in the eye, House said "Sorry, I only use the 'Be Nice to Chase' card once every ten years. Come to think of it, I diagnosed you, so, twenty years. Could I add a few more, for being there at…?"

"Go on. I could get used to that." Chase answered, turning his attention to this unusually quiet baby, which had just started to fuss about something. Curiosity grabbed House's train of thought, was there even a face on this little thing that they'd all been so aware of for the past nine months?

"Give me a look. I'd like to see this Joey we all slaved over."

Chase rolled his eyes and flipped the small girl over to show her face. It was still that bright red of a newly opened rose, she seemed to have inherited her father's mouth, which was stained with some unidentifiable food source. Surprisingly, her hair was her mum's, thin and mousy. She wasn't likely to have the same looks her father did. More of modesty about her, as she looked up to him with pale cyan eyes. She could be cute, but nothing amazing.

"Nice. Now, do I have to call it Josephine? Johanna? Jo?" House suspiciously asked, passing the baby back fairly carelessly. It wasn't his responsibility, why should he be the one having to hold it?

Chase chuckled, shaking his head. "No, whatever happened in-uteri, stays in-uteri. Her name's Violet."

Right then. Thank God that joke had been killed. "Not even as a middle name?"

"Not even as a middle name." he replied, smiling at the sleeping little baby now known as Violet.

House rolled his eyes in a way of showing "like I care". He then took a one-over of Chase now. That albino had done a good job of sewing him up, and he'd done a good job of thinning himself down again, just a bit, not like that girl who had Cushing's. Still…

"I still think you're fat."

"Oh, don't start that one up again! That pisses me off and you know it!" Chase said sarcastically, "Besides, I worked out that I only gained 20 pounds the other day…"

"Including the boulder?" House wondered casually, but he didn't really care. If it was out of the wombat's system, that was good. It would never be repeated again.

Chase nodded in a positive sort of way. "Another bonus to this whole thing is being barren down there for a couple of years. Now I could have sex with whomever the hell-"

"Oh, please, PLEASE! Do NOT get all Brokeback on me now!" House cried. The nurses stared at him, stupid nurses. Since when was this their business? Chase rolled his eyes in agreement, again. House still felt in the mood for aggravating his formerly future former employee.

"For a Catholic, you swear a hellofalot. I never knew that seminary drop-outs could learn more profanities than me."

"You who single-handedly re-invented the word 'fuck'?"

"See what I mean?" House knew he'd won this argument. If Chase backed down now, it'd be rather stupid. However, maybe he should let him have one last chance…

"I'd like to see you put up with pain so that you can't move for four hours on end!"

Heh, it was worth a try. "Go home, get some sleep, and teach her how to dig holes."

Chase nodded, giving one last sailor's salute as he walked out the door. Man, that guy was probably a whole lot stronger than he'd ever thought. Fire in the belly, or whatever they called it these days. Chase had it, and that kid was probably in good hands. Just as long as they didn't have to do any tedious differentials without the help of that Intensivist…House leant down to put his hand on the bung leg. Vicodin time, again.

At least Racknell didn't quit. He hated having to do interviews.

The End

A/N: Hoorah, finally got it done! Now, before you grab the torch and pitchforks, or maybe you could leave the chocolates-BANG!-Ow! Alright, who shot me? Oh, it's a blank bullet! Right! Hey, how about I tell you five little unknown facts about my writing of this?

Four months, four months of my precious time to keep you guys happy!

I became addicted to jelly beans (especially green apple ones) while writing this.

There was going to be a line, "Chase, there is no such thing as a fake orgasm. Along with werewolves, fairies, and Suri Cruise." My best satire joke ever thought up, and Godammit, Vanity Fair prints out pictures right as I was gonna put it in! So yeah, that was annoying.

I have a laptop now. Hoorah, again.

My muse came back, tanned and blonder from her holiday in Rio. Now I'm writing the crap out of my fingers to try and get her kick started.

Bye!

-Xandi