Disclaimer: DOH

"40 year old man. MRI shows considerable plaque in –."

"I can read a file, Cameron."

Her mouth shuts with a click as she waits for Chase's acceptance or refusal. "You could at least try to be more professional," she mutters as he flips over another page.

"And you could at least acknowledge I am a skilled doctor. Not an idiot."

Cameron looks at him finally, the real reason for calling him down here choking in her throat. "I don't think you're an idiot."

Chase re-reads the line he'd been focusing on. The tone of her voice throws him for a small loop, though he gives no indication of it. Maybe it's time to just…let it go. He catches her stare.

"I've… got an opening at four."

She nods, not moving away from her position by the wall. Chase closes the file, still watching her.

"You hear about House?"

Resisting the urge to let out a frustrated groan, he decides to play this friendly. "Yeah. Coma."

"They, uh, caught the kid yesterday morning."

"I hadn't heard."

Her glance shifts from him to somewhere over behind him. Folding her arms under her chest, she hopes she's hiding her shaking hands. "They don't know when he's going to wake up."

"I somehow find it hard to believe a coma can keep House down."

For just a flit in time he sees the quirk of her lips tilting upward in that smile he'd always loved to see. Then he's aware of her shaking fingers pressing to her lips.

"What's wrong?"

"Chase…I," she pulls her hand away with an agitated jerk. "I need to tell you something important."

Doom fills him. This isn't the first time he's heard something along these lines pass from her mouth. When her eyes dart around them, he suddenly realizes she's been waiting for the perfect opportunity when they're alone, or alone as they can be.

"Okay." When did his mouth become numb?

"I…I wanted you to know before you started hearing things…seeing things." Even Cameron thinks her stilted words are grating and too drawn out, but she blames her nerves. She even blames hormones. "I'm pregnant."

The wind is knocked out of him but he can't fall down, he can't walk away, he can't even look away. She's pregnant? God. God. God. No. No. Chase sees the brilliancy of the emerging tears in her eyes and the unstable quiver of her parted lips as she speaks again.

"It's House's."

He accepts the file handed to him by Taub with barely a glance.

"Chase?"

Biting into his sandwich heartedly, he never looks up from perusing the said file. The noise of the cafeteria is deafening today, probably due to the gossip mill overrunning from musings and disbelief at last night's turn of events.

"Chase?"

The hand is suddenly on top of the typewritten pages, blocking his view. Too bad he doesn't have x-ray vision and too bad he's not in the mood to be Taub's House Guru. Anyways, isn't that normally Foreman's job?

Finally looking up, Chase tersely speaks. "What?"

"In as bad a mood as House?"

"Look, I've got surgery in 95 minutes. I don't have time to chit-chat about House's love life. So, unless this is about the patient you want me to open up later today, leave."

Taub's eyes shift to the left and right and he hesitates before sitting down opposite Chase, folding his hands across the white table with his thumbs tapping softly as if he's nervous.

"Well?"

"I'm not…the kind of guy who cares what others doctors do."

Leaning back slightly, Chase waits for the man to finish.

"Now, we both know what's happened with House and Cameron…and you and Cameron."

"I don't have time for this." Standing, Chase grips the file in one hand and his tray in the other. Even as he begins walking away, he can feel Taub following in his heels, so he turns around abruptly holding out a hand to stop the ex-plastic surgeon. "You don't wanna deal with a pissed off House. I get it. Really, I do." Chase leans in closer. "But you don't know what happened between him and Cameron and you sure as hell don't know what happened with her and me."

His steps are loud in his ears, though he knows that no one else can hear his soft shoes since they're too wrapped up in drama that has nothing to do with them.

On the way to surgery, he spies Wilson at a vending machine, no doubt veering off the beaten path so he won't have to deal with the stares and whispers. He's got half a mind to toss him down there with the wolves and Taub for some type of vindication he doesn't even really want. And then just when he's about to enter the surgical ward, there's House, ahead of him, his steps slow and measured.

Reaching him, Chase stares straight ahead, his feet suddenly not so hurried. He senses House glancing at him before following suit.

"No wheelchair?"

"No gel?"

Shrugging, Chase replies, "I don't care what people think."

"Me neither."

He's already passed his OR, but Chase keeps walking. At least it's quiet up here.

It's ridiculous, House thinks as they keep walking, that the British guy is his closest ally.

A/N: Ha, so I know some of you guys couldn't care less for Chase, but I like him...not with Cameron, but in general ;) Anyways, I promise that he won't be around for far too long, but he is very very important in where we're going! Thanks so much!