DISCLAIMER: I don't own House. But I do watch it religiously.

Q is for Quarantine

Chapter Six: Who would YOU have sex with before you died?

Cut to the ducklings…

Cameron laughed harder than she normally would have done; she put it down to nerves. Nevertheless, Chase's impression of Foreman talking to Walker was incredibly accurate and undeniably funny, so she allowed herself to give into a brief bout of hysterical giggles – it may well be the last time she would have good reason to do such a thing.

Once again, her thoughts drifted back to Ebola, and the mirth in her chest died down immediately. Chase noticed her change in mood, and set his face into a serious expression once more.

"I really hope Foreman's ok," Cameron said sincerely, looking to the wall that separated her and Chase from their co-duckling as if she wished she could see him through it.

"I don't," said Chase, wrinkling his nose. Cameron shot him a look and he hastened to add. "I was joking. Of course I don't want him to have Ebola or whatever."

"Only because it increases the possibility of you having it," said Cameron snippily.

Chase sighed. "Believe what you will."

"Fine, I will."

The pair lapsed into one of their now frequent bouts of silence. Chase contemplated saying something, but he was saved by a figure entering the room. It was a CDC official. He thumped through the doorway, fat and balding, an old man with wisps of white strands that were a pathetic excuse for hair. He had a funny expression on his strangely red face, like he wanted nothing more than to be a thousand miles from here, but was also enjoying the fact that he thought he was the superior to the two holed up doctors in the room. Talk about your inflated ego, thought Chase, flicking his eyes over the doctor briefly. He noted the circles of sweat spreading across the fabric that coated the doctor's underarm, and that his glasses kept slipping down his nose due to the copious amounts of perspiration he was secreting. It looked like he had just run around the whole building to get here, and his cheeks were flushed with an unusually raw colour. He was wheezing and he coughed a couple of times before straightening up to face the two ducklings.

"What's happening to Doctor Foreman?" asked Cameron immediately, standing up. Chase stood up also, an eyebrow cocked as they awaited the other doctor's answer. But he merely shook his head, a few beads of sweat shaking off onto the floor. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

"We are still running tests," he said gravely. Cameron and Chase picked up on the falsity in his voice and stared at him coldly. "But before we get the results, I cannot say for sure."

"Why are you even bothering to run tests?" Cameron burst out. "Ebola has to incubate for two to twenty-one days! Not even a single day has passed since Foreman came into contact with the infected patient –"

"Wouldn't you rather we tested your colleague now, or when it was too late?" the doctor cut in nastily. "Don't question our decisions, Doctor," he paused to read her ID tag, "Cameron. We know perfectly well what we are doing."

Chase walked towards Cameron, standing beside her in what could be described as a subtly defensive manner. The back of her neck prickled as he came to hover by her shoulder, and it seemed that he was unconsciously communicating his support for her against the other doctor. Feeling emboldened, Cameron increased the intensity of her glare, determined to get some answers out of the CDC official.

"Where is your boss?" she demanded. "Where is Doctor Walker?"

The doctor shrugged. "That's none of your business. Keep your nose where it belongs, or I might have to chop it off for testing." He turned to Chase. "Now, you seem like a decent man," he said graciously, falsely, trying to get him to co-operate. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to remove you from the presence of Doctor Cameron while we perform some examinations on both of you separately. If you could please follow me, we'd like to begin as soon as possible."

"Where are you taking me?" enquired Chase, not moving until he was sure of his destination. Plus the fact that tests for Ebola were completely irrelevant, and need not be performed.

The doctor – Doctor Patterson – stopped and forced a horrible smile. "Aren't you a bit old for wanting Doctor Cameron to hold your hand wherever you go?" Chase frowned, and Doctor Patterson carried on, a leer tugging at his sweat-moistened lips. "I assure you, Doctor, you will not be far from where she is. We'll even give you a lollypop when we're done, just like in kindergarten."

Chase flushed a crimson colour. He didn't let anyone but House and a few of his co-workers tease him, or insult him without provoking a substantial reaction from him – what did this CDC idiot think he was doing? First being sarcastic to Cameron, then implying that he was a child? Who the hell did he think he was?

"Who the hell do you think you are?" snapped Cameron, jerking Chase back into the flow of the argument. He marvelled at how accurately she had read his thoughts.

"Now, now, Doctor Cameron," said Patterson in a sneering tone. "Let's not get heated up over nothing. I was just asking your colleague to come away for some tests, that's all. No need to get upset."

"Well, maybe you should ask a bit nicer," suggested Cameron crudely, folding her arms in a way that signified that she was out to win this conflict. Chase held back a smirk at this move; he had gotten used to interpreting her body language, having been in countless arguments with her in the past… and losing them.

Patterson's demeanour changed track quite rapidly. He whipped up closely to Cameron's face and towered over her, but bent menacingly to engage eye contact with the smaller doctor. His speed was surprising for his large body, and Chase and Cameron were caught unawares. "What did I say about not questioning our decisions?" he snarled. Cameron blinked, stance not wavering. "Don't you dare answer back to me, bitch–"

"Hey! Hey!" Chase threw an arm between the volatile pair, an action proving to be extremely awkward considering the other two doctors were only a few inches apart. He nudged Cameron back slightly, and positioned himself in front of her, his back to the CDC doctor. His eyes met hers, and the expression in them said Don't bother. She glared up at him for a few more seconds before looking past him, disgusted and fuming with anger. She pushed him away so that she was once more facing Patterson directly.

"I may be a bitch," Cameron said dangerously, "but at least I don't spend my time dodging coffins because I'm so old and fat."

Chase stared at her in shock, momentarily forgetting that he was trying to prevent the argument from turning into anything physical. He nearly applauded her, and couldn't raise his jaw off the ground quick enough to congratulate her on what was probably her very first insult, since she was too emotionally aware of others around her and didn't want to hurt them with rude comments. Well, her first insult that wasn't directed at him, House or Foreman, that was.

He stepped between the two warring doctors again, trying to ignore the murderous gazes they were shooting at him. "Back off," he ordered Patterson firmly. And in an undertone, he bent towards Cameron and whispered, "I'm not saying he didn't deserve that, but next time, just let jerks like him say what they like and ignore them because they are not worth it – humph!"

Chase heard Cameron gasp as he smacked the floor, a blow to the back of his head scattering his thoughts and sending his already worn out body to the ground. I shrill ringing drove explosively into his skull, a searing pain attached to it; the old man could hit hard! He turned as quickly as his non – responding mind would allow, trying to scramble to his feet before his aggressor could attack again. But Patterson's hands were already seizing the lapels of his lab coat and yanking him roughly to his feet.

"You got something to say, Pretty Boy, you say it to my face," he growled. Chase's head was ringing. His vision wavered from the blow and lack of sleep, and he struggled to focus on the fat ugly brute in front of him. "I said, say it to my face!" repeated Patterson, giving Chase a rough shake, his coarse breath stinging the intensivist's eyes.

Chase exerted some force over his remaining thoughts, reining them into an appropriate chain so that his body could function once more. With difficulty, he angled his head upwards so that his eyes were level with Patterson's. "I was just saying what a good washing machine you must have," he said groggily, but in full command of his tongue. Patterson was taken aback, but Chase hadn't finished. "Or maybe its your detergent? Tell me, how do you get the sweat patches off your shirts? Or do you just have to buy new clothes after throwing out a set every day?"

Even Chase had to admit that that was a low blow, but, he really couldn't care less. He was tired, bruised and angry, and this stupid old oaf was not improving the situation. He was gripping Chase's lab coat so tightly, pulling the younger doctor closer towards his body, eyeballing him as he thought of what to say – or yell – next. Chase could smell the perspiration on Patterson's red uneven skin, feel his heat radiating off his body. Why is he sweating so much? Chase wondered distantly. It's not even hot in here.

"You think you're so smart," sneered Patterson, spittle flying into Chase's face. "You wait 'til –"

He ceased his speech suddenly, as if someone had cut off his tongue. He abruptly let go of the younger doctor, who staggered back a couple of steps, watching the old doctor double over. He was coughing, almighty coughs that boomed in his chest and resonated around the room. Sputum spewed from Patterson's open mouth, and Chase fancied he spotted traces of red amongst the yellow muck. The doctors in Cameron and Chase urged them to run forward and aid the old man, but sense held them back, wary of the pathogens that might infect them if they got too close. After all, they were in quarantine for a deadly disease, and the presence of haemoptysis in someone who was not classified as 'infected' was not a good sign.

"What should we do?" asked Cameron, sounding very out of character; afraid and unsure.

"We need help," muttered Chase, heading for the unguarded door at the opposite end of the room. He walked a couple of shaky steps and stopped as Patterson wandered into his path, blocking his exit.

"You're not going anywhere," he hissed between coughs. His eyes were watering and his chest seized up again. Blood splattered the floor in little droplets.

"I'm going to get help," said Chase loudly. "I'm going to find Doctor Walker."

"No!" Patterson cried out. "You stay right where you are!"

"This is ridiculous," said Chase, then an idea came to mind. House had used it often, and Chase was inclined to try it out himself. He got as close to Patterson as he possibly could without being in risk of contacting any body fluids that were flying from the other doctor's mouth. "Let me go and find Walker," he said in a deadpan tone of voice. "Or you're gonna end up dead."

His statement was met with a fresh bout of coughs and wheezes. But Patterson didn't move aside or say anything (not that he could). Chase was willing to bet that his dire predicament could actually prove true, if the stupid CDC doctor didn't allow him past. He ran a hand through his mussed golden hair, pondering what how to get around Patterson without coming into contact with any of his phlegm, just as someone entered through the door from the other side.

"Hey kids, I'm home!" sang the jolly voice of House, accompanied by his body, as he sauntered into the room. Then he caught sight of Patterson coughing up his guts onto the ground, grimaced, then sauntered right back out again. "Someone's dying in here!" he yelled to some unseen people down the hall. "Hey, Matt! I think one of your employees has got Ebola!"

Walker came pelting into the room, pushing past House, who seemed completely unconcerned about the situation going on in front of him. Chase and Cameron's eyes were wide with fascination and bewilderment, as Walker paged around fifty different people after taking one measly glance at the wheezing doctor before him, and edging away like a coward. Not that House was any better; he was keeping a safe distance, hovering by the door, whilst Cameron and Chase backed up against the opposite wall as far away as they could.

Nobody said a word as an entourage of CDC doctors filed into the room, lifted Patterson onto a gurney (with difficulty) and rushed him out of the door; everybody, save House, who was humming loudly to himself and twirling his cane by his side in circular motions. Walker threw House a look of irritancy, but the diagnostician merely gave him an innocent look in return and pushed the decibels of his humming one notch higher. A few underlings cleaned and sterilised the floor with practised efficiency, before leaving only the CDC Director, House and the two ducklings in the room.

"Uh, what just happened here?" Cameron said, after House had decided to finally cease his tuneless humming and come through the door. Walker shifted uncomfortably so House answered for him.

"The old man just caught Ebola," he said. "Or so the theory goes."

"We will run the tests and find out," said Walker gruffly, not wanting to admit his theory was questionable, even outright wrong; the spread of Ebola could not have shown such outward signs after that small amount of time passed between (possible) infection or contact with the virus. "But in the mean time, I want you all to stay here. Did any of the blood or sputum get onto you?" He addressed this last question at Chase and Cameron. They both shook their heads. "Good. I suppose it's safe for you all to remain in the same place for a while longer, then. You will be sent for presently." He nodded courteously to Cameron and Chase, ignored House, and swept out of the room without much further ado.

House whistled and sat down on a free chair. He motioned for his remaining two ducklings to follow, and they did so, dumbly. "What?" he said, when they just stared at him. "What happened?"

"Well," started Chase, "the hospital's just been put under quarantine, there's some crazy virus spreading around like bushfire, Patterson's just coughed up some crap into the air that we're breathing in right at this moment, you and Walker just agreed on something, and –"

"What did we agree on?" demanded House, looking affronted.

"You just took orders from Walker," said Cameron incredulously. "He told you to stay here, and you are staying here."

"Well, if I went out of this room, I'd only be going in the direction of the diseased people, wouldn't I? And what's the point of that?" said House mildly.

"But you never take orders from anyone, not even Cuddy," Chase challenged him. "What's brought on the change?"

House's expression froze on his face for a split second as he recalled the basis of Walker's 'deal'. His voice hardened. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said evasively, then clapped his hands together to show that he was not going to elaborate. "So," he said, "How are you two bearing up, eh? Has the threat of imminent death snapped some things into perspective?"

Cameron frowned. "Snapped what into perspective?"

House gave a crooked smile. "Oh, I don't know… both of you are single, right?" Confused, the two other doctors nodded. "Exactly; so you'd want to find The One before you, die, correct?"

"Uh, you sound as though you've already signed our death certificates," said Chase uneasily. "There is a HUGE possibility that we'll all get out of PPTH alive, you know. Plenty of time to find, um, 'The One' after that."

"You saw that man," said House, referring to Patterson. "He's probably gonna die, and he's spent less time with the patient than both of you have." He shot a significant look over at Chase and Cameron. "He's got no time to find the one person who he belongs with… he's gonna die alone, friendless…"

"How do you know he's not married, or if he has kids?" said Cameron, still weirded out by House's strange choice of topic for their conversation.

House snorted. "Oh, please, Cameron, if that old man turned anyone on then I'd send them directly to a neurologist... if Foreman's not dead as well, by then, that is."

"It's not the appearance that counts," said Cameron loftily, "it's the personality."

"Yeah," Chase chipped in, "and Patterson had a personality of pure gold, didn't he? What was that he called you? 'Bitch' I think it was… Plus he's probably given me a concussion," he added, prodding the tender part of his head as he said this.

House stared. "Patterson hit you round the head?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Did you fall down?"

"…Well, yeah. He took me by surprise."

House stared some more. Then he burst out laughing. Cameron and Chase exchanged a look; House, laughing? Sadism was being taken to the next level.

"Chase got beaten up by an old man!" shrieked House, tears flowing out of his eyes as he guffawed, "Chase got beaten up by –"

"Ok, ok, we get the point," grumbled Chase, blushing crimson.

"Ah, I've got to give the old boy a certificate," said House, wiping his eyes. "That's if he stays alive long enough."

"He's not going to die," said Cameron tiredly. "No one's going to die."

"But say you will," said House, quickly changing the subject. If he was gonna score fifty bucks out of Wilson by the end of the week, he might as well start playing match-maker now. "What if you were going to die in, say, a week, and you had to choose someone to sleep with, who would it be?"

"House!" said Cameron indignantly.

"What kind of a question is that!" said Chase at the same time.

House grinned. "Oh, come on, we all know you two had mind blowing sex when Cameron was high. Would you do it again, with the threat of death looming above your heads?"

"Uh, no," said Cameron hastily, looking anywhere but at Chase.

"Aw, Goldilocks, were you that bad in bed?" simpered House to Chase.

"No I was not!" declared Chase, then, realising what he had said, blushed a deep scarlet colour. "I mean, well, we were just, uh…"

"Then, I'd take it you'd sleep with her again, then," concluded House, giving the Australian doctor a knowing look; Chase spluttered with mortification.

"No, I would not!" he said. "And what has this got to do with anything? We're not going to die in a week, and none of us want to sleep with our co-workers!"

"AHEM!" coughed a loud voice from the door. Everyone turned to face in that direction to be greeted by the sight of Doctor James, the CDC official they had met earlier, entering the room. He looked a bit disturbed at the conversation he had chanced upon and Chase groaned inwardly, wondering just how much he had overheard about his sex life.

"Yes?" said House easily, as if they were talking about something completely normal before he interrupted. "Can we help you?"

James walked closer so that he was directly in front of the trio. He wore a grim expression on his face.

"It's about Doctor Eric Foreman," he intoned seriously. "We have the results from his tests."

A/N: First off, PLEASE REVIEW! And thanks to all my former reviewers (you make me smile… and trust me, I don't do that often). Anyway, key points to consider in the story so far; House's 'deal' with Walker; Patterson contracting the disease and showing symptoms so quickly (doesn't seem very relevant, but it is); Chase and Cameron in denial; and Foreman…? Who knows? Nothing's very interesting at the moment, but hopefully, there will be more action further on in the story. Just a note to say that I probably won't up date for a few weeks or so, because I'm going on vacation, so I won't be able to get to a computer to write up 3000 words on House. Happy Easter to everyone if I don't update before I fly off!

Daygoner