Wow, I was hit with strep throat twice, my homework's slowly piling up...along with my fan fiction! Once again, I apologize...please review!! And Merry Christmas to all!

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Chapter Eight: Demands

Chase slammed down some papers on House's desk with a grin. "What're these?" House asked grouchily.

"My demands," Chase replied, putting both of his hands on top of the desk so that he was leaning over the seated House.

"Demands?" House echoed, beginning to sound slightly amused. "What'd you do, take my mother hostage?"

"No, even better," Chase grinned toothily, holding up a bottle of pills and shaking it.

House realized with slight horror that it was from his secret stash hidden away in his house. "Where'd you find those?"

"I had a lot of time to look around and write up demands while you disappeared last night..."

"So you're black mailing me?"

"I don't really want to, but I know you. Without some leverage, I won't get what I want."

House crossed his arms. "You're lying. You're totally enjoying this."

A small smile played over Chase's features. "So maybe I am. You gonna read it, or what?" He asked gesturing to the small sheaf of papers arranged in a pile on House's desk.

House raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you horrible, witchy man, you."

Insert Witch Doctor song (not joking either, it sets a good mood for this chapter )

Flipping the small, and, he noted, neatly stapled booklet, House began to read aloud.

"Demand numero uno: To go- what?!" House looked over at Chase like he was crazy. "Clubbing?! Me? You're insane."

"Keep reading," Chase insisted cheerily.

"To enjoy a nice dinner, and a walk in the park afterwards. It's freezing out there in the evening, not to mention icy, Chase."

"Best time of the year," Chase countered happily, "What with all the sparkling snow." House gave him a blank look, so he waved for the man to continue.

"My wants: for you to always pick up the phone. Over my dead body. Let me move in with you. Yeah, right. Your-ah, I'm flattered, I know I'm fabulous, but you can't have my penis."

"What?! Why not? I thought we're lovers," Chase objected.

"You use 'lovers' like it's a sacred word," House snapped back, avoiding the question.

"And you act like you don't like me at all, but you must feel something for me!"

"Well, I don't."

"You're a liar," Chase retorted.

"Never said I wasn't," House remarked, leaning back in his chair, away from Chase.

"You're obviously not taking me seriously," Chase shot back, looking a little hurt, and very mad. He spun around and started to leave.

House was going to let him, but then he caught sight of his Vicodin bottle.

"Wait! Chase...come back." Chase turned back, looking very surprised, mostly by the tone of House's voice, but also at the words he thought he had heard come from House's lips.

"What?" he asked, trying to retain his angry composure.

"I didn't finish the list."

Chase sighed and rolled his eyes. "You don't care about that, so stop pretending."

"And it says here that you want me to announce our relationship to Cuddy and the team, formally, making it official. So, I've got a question."

"Oh, what's that?" Chase prompted warily.

"Do I get your penis?" House asked with a straight face.

A small grin tugged at the corners of Chase's mouth. "Do you want it?"

"No," House replied point blank.

"You're mean."

"And you told me to be honest. The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"Whatever. I'm leaving."

"Alright, alright, fine," House growled, stopping Chase once more.

"Fine? Fine what?"

"Fine. I'll go along with your crafty scheme."

"I don't believe you." Chase knew it was too good to be true.

"Well, there are a couple of conditions..."

Chase sighed. "And what are they?"

"That I get to pick two dates for us to go on as well."

"That sounds... reasonable. There's more, though, isn't there?"

"That you'll massage my feet every night." Chase grimaced a little, knowing House just wanted to punish him with meaningless tasks.

"Anything else?"

"And that you'll cook for me like you did before," House finished.

"Hey! I just wasn't feeling myself that time, don't expect it all of the time!"

"Flying high on anti depressants can do that to you," House replied, leaving the stunned Chase behind in the office to digest the little tidbit of information.