Surprisingly, I still own nothing. Also, there is mild slash in this chapter, but if you didn't care about the last one, this is nothing.

House woke up early the next morning. Well, early for him.

If he'd had his way, all lectures would be after midday, but this one was at ten, meaning House had to wake up at eight thirty to get back to his hotel and changed before nine forty-five.

All his lectures were a lot fuller than anyone else's, which House felt was unfair, as he did his best to drive them away.

He caught a cab back to the hotel, entering to a scene of chaos.

Uniformed men swarmed around, testing everything, and House blinked, checking that this was real.

"Mr. House, we must request you join us at the station."

House turned to the man who had spoken. He was wearing a suit that would have worked better on someone who was a foot taller and twenty pounds lighter, and had an officious look on his face. House instantly disliked him.

"Dr. House actually. May I ask why? Since I orchestrated World War Two and killed the Queen of England I've been a relatively good boy."

The man attempted a shark like grin, but instead looked as though he had indigestion. "You are a suspect in the murder of Tim Bryanson."

"Who?" House snickered internally, as the man looked frustrated. Obviously he had expected House to burst into tears and cry out that he'd done it. In this case though, House was serious. The name wasn't ringing any bells.

"Tim Bryanson. You're coming downtown."

This time House couldn't restrain his bark of laughter. "Did you see that on a cop show? Seriously, that phrase wasn't even cool in the eighties."

The Twit, as House had affectionately named him, started to turn red around the ears.

"Take him aw… in, boys."

House knew he'd been about to say 'Take him away, boys", but refrained from commenting.

As he was 'helped' into the police car, his mind turned to more important matters, like what to have for lunch and who to use his phone call on.

Wilson's reaction would be funny, but not helpful. Horatio might help, but might believe he'd done it, which would both suck and effectively end any relationship that was there.

House mentally shrugged. He'd work it out later. In the meantime, he should do what Wilson always told him to, and look on the bright side of things. At least he didn't have to talk to idiots.

On the minus side, he was still dressed in his clubbing clothes, and hadn't showered today. Probably not the best impression he could cause on any cops or lawyers.

Horatio woke up late that morning. Well, late for him.

Generally, he got up at six or so, and even on his days off he got up early out of habit. This morning, as he woke up at half past six, he was still clinging tightly to House and as embarrassing as that might be, it felt nice.

He managed to get back to sleep, not waking again for another three hours. This time, his groggy wake up had him roll over and stretch out. The absence of House made him wake up, and open his bleary eyes in search of the man.

He spotted a note on his gun holster, House having obviously assumed that would be the first thing he'd pick up.

Horatio,

Gone to talk to stupid doctors. Should be finished by eleven. You owe me a tour of Miami, so you better start planning on where you'll take me.

I'm an expensive date, be prepared.

Greg

Horatio grinned, and looked at his watch. He had maybe an hour to get dressed and showered, then half an hour to decide where to take Greg. It had to be somewhere special, that he couldn't find on his own.

He mused on it in the shower, thinking of various places, but all seemed wrong.

Too soppy, too touristy, too friend-like. Where was the place marked on the map, 'Gay Couple First Date Zone'?

He snickered to himself, realising that House had actually put out five times before the first date. An expensive date, but obviously easy too.

"Calleigh! Can you round up the rest of H's team and go to the interrogation room? You need to do some observations of proper interrogation techniques."

Calleigh was really starting to wish Horatio hadn't taken the day off. Technically Rogers was her superior, being a lieutenant like H, but he was a jerk anyway. Insinuating H wasn't as good at interrogation as he was, and in the same breath acting as though they were friends by using a private nickname.

Still, he was her superior, and Calleigh sighed, but went to find the others and take them to the interrogation room. Once they got there, a surprise awaited.

"Alexx? What are you doing here? Not to mention all the others." Delko waved his hand vaguely around, gesturing to the room full of lab workers and mortician people.

She shot a disbelieving look at him, "It's Dr. House."

Ryan understood immediately, joining the techies casting longing looks through the panes, but the other two were still mystified, and said as much.

"Dr. House is like the Sherlock Holmes of modern medicine, combined with Brad Pitt. He's in every teaching journal in the world, and he's in our building…"

She sighed, and Calleigh looked alarmed. This was serious hero worship, from Alexx, possibly the person who was most unimpressed by status. Well, after H of course.

The lab geeks seemed to agree, staring through the glass as though hoping the great man would look back. It was entirely possible that this one act of arresting their hero had caused more hatred toward Rogers than months of slights towards the technicians. Well, it couldn't happen to a better guy.

Ryan appeared puzzled, "But Rogers is a serious sycophant. He wouldn't arrest someone as famous as House."

"Well, there is the best part," A woman wearing a lab coat snickered, "He doesn't know Dr. House is Dr. House, he just thinks he has some random guy in there."

"Alright guys," Delko contributed wickedly, "He said to observe, so lets… observe."

"Mister House, you were seen having an argument with the victim the night he was killed."

House rolled his eyes. "Do you know how many people I argue with? If I were to kill them all, I think I'd have committed genocide by now."

"After you fought, you weren't seen again until this morning. You had changed your clothes, but hadn't showered or shaved."

"Actually," House felt duty bound to point out, "I got changed last night. Just because no one saw me in this outfit doesn't mean I wasn't wearing it."

Rogers sneered. "Why would you avoid people? In a hotel that size, some one should have seen you."

"Because I didn't want to be jumped by my freaky wannabe groupies who were lurking in the lobby," House replied flippantly.

"It seems I must be more specific. Where were you between eleven and one last night?"

"In bed." While House didn't actually say 'duh', his whole demeanour suggested it.

"Any witnesses."

"Honestly," House waved his hand flippantly, "What kind of a question is that to ask a lady?"

"Answer the question, Mr. House."

"Do I need to keep reminding you, Lieutenant? It's Doctor. Twice over, actually."

Rogers' jaw tensed. "Answer it, Dr. House."

"Don't I get a phone call or something? I'm fairly certain it's police protocol."

House could hear teeth grinding madly. He hadn't had this much fun winding someone up since he was first introduced to Cuddy.

"Fine," He chucked the officer a bone, "Yeah, I was with someone, for that whole time period."

Rogers sighed with relief. "Then let's call them in. If you are telling the truth, you can leave straight away. If not…"

"About that…" House trailed off, and Rogers groaned internally. An old doctor, this was meant to be an easy interrogation!