Chapter Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: House characters are not mine. Will be someday but no today…

Chapter 2

Two weeks later…

His triumphant return to work was marked with cake. Cliché sure, but it was chocolate so he excused it and helped himself to as much as he could get. He made obscene sounds of pleasure as people walked by the glass walls of the conference room and stared covetously at his treat. It was just about perfect. His leg was hurting far less and on a good day he didn't need his cane. Although the pain had receded much of the thigh muscle was still missing so walking was still not perfectly smooth. Cuddy insisted that physical therapy would make those good days even better but he didn't think Billy was up for another session.

His first and to this date only session of physical therapy had resulted in nothing being worked out but his mouth and Bill Newman's patience.

"Hello Newman," House had greeted with the same contempt the Seinfeld character infused in his delivery. The session had only gotten worse from there and House had thought it all quite amusing. Of course nothing that much fun was legal, at least not in this hospital, so he'd found himself sitting in front of Cuddy before the time allotted for the session was even over. His innocent look had done nothing to quell her annoyance and House was glad to see that at least hadn't changed.

The looks he'd been getting from some of the other personnel were beginning to wear thin his already short fuse and he was contemplating some massive prank just replace the wary glances with the former contempt. Until then he'd just enjoy his cake. There was one thing missing however, one person actually, one foreigner more specifically.

"Where's Chase?"

"Away with his boyfriend," came the snide response from Foreman.

Cameron immediately came to Chase's defence. Couldn't she ever be even a little bit evil? "He's away with some friends. He'll be back tomorrow."

"I'm gone not even a month and the department falls apart."

"When the cat's away the ducklings will play," Wilson commented.

Foreman shook his head and took a forkful of cake. Ducklings, how he hated that term. Chase a duckling, sure, Cameron, definitely, but he, he'd been House's boss for three weeks. No respect, he sighed.

"So where is he really?" House asked Cuddy when it was just he, she and Wilson in his office.

"NIC-U," She responded and House shook his head. The Aussie had barely managed that previous stint in the neonatal intensive care unit after the death of the baby, what's his name. Now he was back there again. Did nobody else see the intensivist just asking for trouble?

"Why do they think he's away with his boyfriend?"

"You don't think he has a boyfriend?" Wilson asked.

"I'm sure he has several," House snipped but Wilson's question had done nothing to answer his.

"Maybe he just didn't want them to know?" Cuddy said. "And the boyfriend thing probably has to do with his friend who came by to see him here a week ago." She wasn't going to say anything more but House was curious. He'd missed prime teasing material while he was away. He should have installed hidden cameras.

"Well don't keep me in suspense."

Lisa gave him her patented unimpressed glare. House labelled it a level four on his scale to ten. A little higher than he thought the topic and the situation warranted which could only mean he was heading in a direction of something she didn't think he needed to know. When would she learn that there was nothing he didn't need to know?

Oblivious to Greg's deduction and Lisa's secrecy, James obliged and explained to his best friend. "He's just a friend of Chase's. He seemed kind of…friendly with Chase, if you get my drift but everybody who met him seemed to like him. Dare I say, even you might be done in by his honesty and charm."

"You can say it around an NG and an endotracheal tube if you suggest it again."

"Chase's personal life is none of your business," Lisa glanced between the two doctors, "either of you." She really didn't want House to get on the younger doctor's case about this. The last thing she needed was a feud between House and one of his subordinates. Even from a distance she could tell by watching Chase and that man together that they complimented each other really well and she intuitively knew that House would not take to that relationship really well. Not because he was homophobic but because it meant having to share the young man. House was very territorial, strangely territorial when it came to his subordinates and even mores so when it came to Chase, maybe because he was the first fellow to last so long. She didn't quite know or understand why but there was a lot about the people that worked for her that she didn't understand.

"Oh, Jimmy's just worried that somebody cuter and younger is moving in on his territory." House watched carefully Wilson's reaction. Wilson made some sort of comment. From Cuddy's laugh he'd say it was a pretty good retort but the slight pink tinge that blossomed on the high cheeks of the boyish face said something else entirely. He found his good mood fading as he contemplated this mystery, one he'd been trying to crack for the better part of two months. It'd been a recent discovery that any mention of Chase in an even remotely sexual context gave Wilson the same guilty blush even if his response sounded completely normal.

There was something there. He was certain it had to do with whatever incident that had made those two better friends. Sure it was none of his business as they had both told him numerous times but there was nothing he felt he shouldn't know. Nothing was too personal or off-limits. More than that, he really wanted to know what it was about Chase that suddenly drew his friend's attention. Maybe he could then explain what it was he drew his attention too.

"He was pretty cute," said Cuddy in a tone that was decidedly not the professional Cuddy they had all come to know and fear.

House jumped back into the conversation. "I hope you weren't too forceful with him. That last sexual assault case was almost won and lost by that very low-cut blouse." He stared pointedly downward and she tilted her head to the side in an exasperated motion. The fact that no such lawsuit existed and the fact that she considered her top to be appropriate for work (or she wouldn't have worn it in the first place) didn't diminish her annoyance.

"It's good to have you back, House," she said monotonously and got up to leave.

When she was gone James shook his head. "One day she's going to fire you."

Greg's face pinched in disbelief. "Never gonna happen. You and Chase on the other hand. I could see that happening."

There was that pink again! He was really on to something. He could crack sex jokes with the best of them and Wilson had only heard half of his repertoire.

"I've got to go."

"Where?" Greg asked sounding almost petulant.

He paused and turned halfway around. "Sick people, cancer, ringing any bells?" He walked out with a parting wave and vanished around a corner. House pulled a juvenile face but it was wasted on the empty room.

So Chase was double dipping again. Somehow he thought he shouldn't be surprised. The last time all he'd gotten from the Australian was that he wasn't rich and he could only wonder how many logical ways there were to take that.

H

NICU wasn't nearly as bad this time around. After Michael's death he thought he'd never go back there. He was being overly dramatic at the time yet walking back into the room filled with incubators and tiny little lives had not been easy. He would have preferred any other posting but this was part of his specialty and they were shorthanded.

He placed his hand into one of the ports of an incubator and gently rubbed the child's side easing her unrest. The isolation of the incubators did get to the kids sometimes and a simple touch could do a lot. He smiled as the baby grasped his finger. With the added bulk of his glove the grasp was tenuous at best but she managed to hold on. He extricated his pinky and ran one finger up the sole of the baby girl's foot in a small arc. He watched with just a hint of visible fascination as the tiny toes splayed out briefly before curling up.

"You'll be happy to know that your upper motor neurons are just fine," he told her with a slight smile. He pulled his hand out of the incubator after a parting touch. He really did like working with babies. When he told House the last time that he needed a break from their patients it hadn't been a total lie. He didn't mind patients lying to him. He expected it but he did prefer the children. They were far more direct, and far less complicated. He'd also needed a break from House too. Not because the man had done anything to him. He'd just been a little confused at the time and needed to get some things worked out away from those far-too-observant eyes.

Late afternoon eventually rolled around and his workday was coming to an end. Tomorrow he'd be back in Diagnostics. No doubt House was back already. He'd considered showing up to get some cake, chocolate being one of his vices, but decided against. Cameron and Foreman thought he was away, taking a long weekend since he had to take his mandatory vacation days, and he didn't want to explain to them what he was doing back, working on his vacation time. NICU was far enough away from Diagnostics that it was unlikely they were to come here unless they had a patient, which he knew they didn't. They hadn't taken a patient since Mr. Swollen tongue. He'd worked mostly in the ICU and ER while House was recuperating. He didn't know what Foreman and Cameron did.

He signed out and took a set of stairs to the ground floor where he could walk home. He lived far enough away that he could take his car but with the cost of gasoline going up and the nice weather moving in he'd chosen to walk and ride his bike more often. He also couldn't bring his car in when he was supposed to be on vacation.

Tomorrow it was supposed to rain so it was a good thing that he was returning from his 'trip' and could drive in. He swore the rain here was several degrees colder than it was in Australia. Then again everything was colder here. You'd think he'd be used to it by now.

Well, there were some things he'd gotten used to.

Chase unlocked the door to his apartment knowing that there would be someone inside. He dropped his bag by the door and with a happy smile called out.

"Honey, I'm home!"

A dry response came from the big lump on his couch. "Oh, ha ha."

H

When Chase walked into the glass walled conference room the next day Cameron and House were already there. Whatever conversation they were having before he arrived ended as soon as they saw him. He greeted them suspiciously and re-categorized their conversation as an argument given the irritated look on House's face –more irritated than usual that is –and the angry flush on Cameron's.

"Everything okay here?" he asked cautiously as he removed his coat and put his bag down. House barely spared him a grunt before heading to his office. He looked expectantly at Cameron but she just shook her head and returned to the patient file in her hand. Chase chalked it up to House being an ass and Cameron being overly sensitive and went to get a cup of coffee. Foreman breezed in while Chase was putting his usual several teaspoons of sugar in the hot liquid.

Foreman greeted Cameron in his usual manner and then a sly smile crossed his face as he turned to Chase.

"So, Chase…"

He didn't even turn to respond but the tone had already caught the interest of Cameron. "So, Foreman…" he mimicked.

"How's Mister René?" The innuendo in his voice was so thick Chase was surprised he didn't choke on it.

"He's fine. I'll tell him you asked." He took a sip of his coffee and raised an eyebrow at the mildly put-off expression twisting the black man's face. He clearly didn't like the innuendo reflected back at him.

"Now, now, children. There's no need to be mean," House said, hobbling in to the room. Today was not the best day for his leg. It was aching a little but not with the infarction pain. It was over exertion again. "I think we all knew that deep down Chase played for the other team." He looked at Chase hoping for a reaction but the man just looked at him over the rim of his mug.

"This isn't relevant," Cameron said quickly.

"Of course it isn't but everyone else has met Mister Ream-"

"René," Chase corrected. He took an empty chair and sat down with a sigh. Damn everyone and their big mouths. His first month at PPTH there'd been numerous rumours saying he was gay. He'd been hit on by enough men to know how to say no without being rude but it had been aggravating to have to do it in the hospital where he worked. Still there'd always been women around willing to at least go out with him and through them the rumours had faded, until recently.

"Whatever." House waved away the correction and continued to speak while he grabbed his trusty black marker. "I haven't met your…friend and I'd like to." He said it with his back turned to them and the marker squeaked as he wrote on the whiteboard. Strangely he sounded almost honest.

Cameron, Chase and Foreman glanced at each other and then to their boss's back. They'd all entertained the idea of a new, nicer, post-shooting House with varying degrees of welcome and trepidation but the reality of it was absolutely frightening. It was like water flowing up hill or the sun revolving around the earth. Good thing it wasn't real.

It only took a moment of watching him and replaying his words in their minds before the realization of the farce dawned.

"You bastard." Chase's wide eyes were shifting around rapidly as almost forgotten, unremarkable events were seen with a different bias. That doctor, the one in radiology who always asked him questions with a strange smile on his face. The same one who stopped him the morning and asked what Chase thought were some weird questions. "You made a bet!"

Foreman who'd been a little shocked by Chase's outburst began to clue in and he turned to stare at House who had stopped writing on the board. Likewise, Cameron's eyes were on the older man waiting for his response. Relevant or not, it was pretty entertaining.

"I wouldn't do something like that."

"Yes. You would," Foreman countered quickly. His head tilted a little in thought. "In fact, I'd say that's classic-House."

"Alright so I made a bet. It was ages ago." He finally turned to face them. "I'll split the take with you," he offered, clearly unapologetic. "But I will need some evidence first. How about it Chase? You and your boy-toy into filming the action? I could just borrow a tape."

"You know what else you could do? You could go to hell." Whatever good humour Chase had walked in with this morning with had evaporated under the scorch of House's callous humour. The anger in his eyes eventually turned House away and the conversation was dropped. The tension was almost stifling and only the marker on the whiteboard dared to make a sound.

Eventually House stopped writing. He moved to allow the other doctors to see the list. He didn't face them when he began to speak again. "New case. Chest pain, skin lesions, fever, cough and a general feeling of bleh. Initially thought it was the flu but when he didn't get any better after ten days he went to Princeton General."

"Pneumonia," Cameron said immediately.

"That's what the geniuses at Princeton General thought. They gave him an antibiotic and, you guessed it, he decided to come here for a better opinion when the symptoms still didn't improve. Actually the symptoms improved, but the patient got worse. There are also the skin lesions which pneumonia can't explain. Can't ignore them just because they're unsightly."

Cameron spared a fraction of a second to glare at him. "Maybe it's just a rash he happened to get at the same time."

House stared at the board with furrowed brow and fake confusion. He walked over to where Foreman was sitting and looked at the board from that position. "Rash…rash…I don't see any rash on the list."

"The lesions-" Cameron began but House interrupted.

"–are lesions. If he had a rash I would have put rash on the board."

"You actually saw the patient?" Foreman inquired, surprise affecting his words.

"Of course not. That's what minions are for. You," He looked at Cameron, "can do the patient history. Rash or lesions; you decide. You," He rested his hand heavily on Foreman's shoulder, "get a new chest X-ray for our lucky friend."

"Princeton General would have already done an X-ray. He should be their patient," the neurologist protested weakly though already knowing House wouldn't change his mind.

"They had their chance. And the X-ray is old. I want to know what's there right now." Truth be-told he just wanted something to do. Three weeks of nothing but daytime TV had actually made him miss his work. He wasn't going to start working harder or anything, that wasn't his style, but for now any puzzle would do. "And Bo Peep gets to break into the patient's house."

Cameron and Foreman left to carry out their duties and noticed as they went that House was staying in the conference room instead of ducking out to go see Wilson or play his PSP. Cameron glanced back at Chase who was grabbing the jacket he'd removed a few minutes ago and ignoring House.

"Take a mask with you. Whatever he's got he probably breathed it in."

Chase nodded but remained silent.

"You're not going to be bitchy all day are you?"

Finally Chase turned to glare at him. "You have no business poking around my private life."

"That's never stopped me before."

"Why does it matter to you what I do on my own time?"

House didn't have an answer that he was willing voice so instead he posed his own question. "Why does it matter why it matters to me what you do on your own time?"

"It doesn't matter but most people would have gotten the hint that it's none of their bloody business."

His tone, language and the slight thickening of the accent all told House that he was pressing a little too far but he didn't stop. He couldn't. The Greg House model of a human being came with a faulty governor. There'd been a recall but people never pay attention to those. "It never bothered you before when I pried."

"Of course it bothered me!"

"But you never got this worked up, except when your dad was here," He noted with the air of an after thought.

Chase's vision tinged red a little bit more. The issue of and the issues surrounding him and his father were still sore spots and he didn't appreciate the diagnostician's meddling, just as he hadn't back then.

He went for the door. This useless conversation didn't warrant concluding. House thought differently and the question he posed briefly paused Chase before he left.

Greg watched him go while he pondered the answer to his own question.

"So, what makes René as or more important to you than your father was?"

H

The search of the patient, Andrew Cotran's house didn't produce anything of interest. The man had a lot of plants but as a landscaper, a high end one, it was expected. Cameron had taken a complete background and no history of respiratory complications was found in the family. Mr. Cotran also hadn't been out of state for more than six months and the furthest he'd gone prior to that was New York. Cotran's chest X-ray was a little more enlightening. To the trained eye of his doctors it showed pneumonia-like nodules with cavities.

"Tuberculosis," said Foreman, examining the X-ray on the backlight.

"He hasn't been out of the country," Cameron commented.

"Do you have a better idea?"

She just shrugged. Tuberculosis seemed like the obvious diagnosis but the skin lesions didn't fit. (Yes, they were lesions.)

"Damn it! That came out of nowhere!" They all turned to look at House. The man sat in his chair, legs propped up on his desk and his video game unit in hand. Feeling their scrutiny he told them, "level six of Zelda," as though that explained everything.

"If he's bringing up mucus when he coughs we should do a sputum culture," Chase suggested as he read through the notes Cameron made in her loopy handwriting. He figured it was only a matter of time before all their handwriting resembled the barely legible chicken-scratch that doctors were notorious for –Dr. Wilson, case in point. Doing so much writing for each patient would eventually make them pretty slack on the legibility issue.

"That'll take days," said House absently as he shifted his whole body in a futile attempt to get his game character to move to the side before he was hit. "Damn it!"

"Then we should start now."

"Fine, get the culture. Get a stool sample and check for parasites while you're at it."

The three fellows left just as Dr. Wilson arrived. "Got them doing your dirty work already I see."

"It's what they're here for."

"I'm here for lunch. Come on." He half turned to the door as House abandoned his game and stood.

"You're buying."

"As always."

H

The three doctors walked into the patient's room. A girl in a chair looked expectantly at them. Cameron introduced Foreman and Chase to the girl, Mr. Cotran's stepdaughter, Claire.

"So, have you figured it out?" she asked hopefully.

"We have some ideas," she said trying to keep the girls hopes up.

"His O-2 sat is low," Chase noted from the monitor.

"He's still coughing," Claire supplied. "His voice is getting kinda raspy too."

Forman began percussing the man's chest and all three doctors listened to the sound. "It's a little dull," the neurologist commented.

"Pneumonic consolidation," said Cameron, leaning back to her initial diagnosis.

"The skin lesions," Chase began but didn't conclude. Cameron took the remark as an unnecessary reminder and snapped back at him.

"I know. It doesn't explain the lesions!"

"No," Chase said absently as he continued to examine Cotran's wrist and hands. The nodules were raised with uneven edges. At the peak of the small mounds were little depressions, almost holes with a slightly dark discolouration. "I think we may want to get Dr. Wilson."

Cameron and Foreman looked over Chase's bent head at each other. Bringing Wilson in on this meant Chase thought it was cancer. If cancer was the cause of all these symptoms then it meant it had metastasized. In short, a cancer diagnosis did not have a good prognosis for the patient.

Claire looked worriedly from her father to the doctors. "Who's Doctor Wilson?" The looks returned didn't assuage her worry and she placed a worried hand on her father's leg needing the contact. Nobody expected him to flinch violently away from the touch.

The pain spiking through his knee from his stepdaughter's touch and his subsequent movement had him gasping but his respiratory condition made getting the oxygen his body craved very difficult.

"O-2 sat is dropping!" Chase announced as the monitor began to blare a warning. "Mr. Cotran you have to relax!" Panicking would only increase his body's need for oxygen and his lungs just weren't equipped to give it to him right now.

Foreman quickly grabbed a breathing mask and turned on the oxygen supply. He slipped the clear plastic piece over the man's nose and mouth and watched as the panic began to ebb and the oxygen saturation go back up towards normal.

H

James eyed the carrot stick Greg had just snatched off his plate. It wasn't an unusual occurrence, Greg stealing his food, but that was his last carrot. All he had left now was celery, which wasn't even kosher. He didn't keep to a strict kosher diet usually so that wasn't a real problem. The problem was he didn't like celery all that much.

Unaware of his companion's displeasure, or well-aware and simply ignoring it, Greg continued to speak. "It's not like I've never looked into his private life before. Remember that girl his third month here? Never even blinked."

"So you think he should be used to you violating his privacy?" James reached across the small cafeteria table to grab a slice of cucumber from Greg's plate only to have the other man fork him. "Ow!" His exclamation turned a few heads but they turned away pretty quickly. "Do you know how many bacteria are in your mouth?"

"You should thank me. I'm giving your immune system something to fight so that it doesn't turn on you." The man always had an excuse. "I don't see why this guy is so important."

"Maybe he just doesn't want you telling everyone he's gay."

"I've already done that. Besides it's pretty obvious that he's likes women which only makes René a bigger anomaly." Wilson didn't comment. "René is a girly name. Are you sure René isn't a girl?"

Wilson dropped his utensil on his plate in a fit of bad temper. "His first name is Zinedine. And yes, I'm sure he's a guy."

Though James's eyes were still on his lunch Greg could see the irritation in the lines of his face. Wide-open blue eyes took in everything about the hunched shoulders and the fingers tapping a tense pattern in the table. "So is it Robert or Zinedine?"

A second of thought didn't enlighten Wilson as to the rest of the question. "What?"

"That you're jealous of."

"I'm not jealous," was the easy denial.

"Thought maybe you'd try a blonde male since your luck with blonde females seems to have waned?"

"That's not funny, House." Julie wasn't even a blonde, not naturally anyway, but that wasn't the point. They hadn't even signed the divorce papers yet so it wasn't official and Greg well knew that his latest wife's infidelity really upset him.

Greg continued to disregard his friend's responses and instead read his body. "Did he turn down your advances before? Is that what the two of you thought you'd try to keep from me?"

"When I said none of your business, I meant it's none of your business!"

Greg turned his head to the side a little giving his buddy a sidelong stare. "It's always been my business before."

James stood up. "Not this time." As he was about to stalk away his beeper went off. He read it and sighed. He couldn't escape his infuriating best friend just yet.

"They think he might have cancer."

"Who?" Greg asked wondering about both the "they" and the "he".

"Your underlings and your patient."

H

Wilson and House met the three fellows back at the diagnostics conference room. They'd added hypoxemia and joint pain to the list of symptoms.

"So who thinks cancer?"

"The lesions look like squamous cell carcinoma," said Chase.

Foreman followed with his own suggestion, jumping on the cancer wagon. "Could be basal cell carcinoma."

"It doesn't have to be cancer. Sarcoidosis could cause this."

"Let's confer with the expert shall we?" House said turning to the oncologist.

"Biopsy the skin lesion," was all he said before walking out.

The three doctors wearing lab coats looked in askance at House. Wilson wasn't usually that curt.

"I didn't do anything," he said innocently. Cameron shook her head. He couldn't take responsibility for anything. He just spoke and acted without thinking. If being shot couldn't change him then nothing would. She'd concluded as much during the argument she had with him that morning but he proved it over and over with every word out of his mouth.

"Go biopsy. What are you waiting for?" The three headed for the door. "Wait! You, go do my clinic hours." He nodded towards Chase. Before a funnily accented word could be said a demanding female voice interrupted.

"Do your own clinic hours House." Cuddy.

"But I might piss someone off. You haven't installed metal detectors."

"It's a chance I'm willing to take." The click of her heels faded as she walked away, en route to somewhere else.

House sighed silently, eyes on the floor. He saw the three sets of feet go by leaving him alone in the room. He wasn't eager for clinic duty. He never was but possibility that he'd piss someone off or set in motion some disastrous sequence of events had never bothered him before. The consequences had never been so devastating before. He'd been shot, twice! And he may have inadvertently led a fragile woman to committing suicide. He was too cowardly to look into the police investigation to see if there had been any truth to his dream, to see whether he had pushed someone in to taking their own life.

So maybe he was a little wary of going to the clinic. He loved medicine, loved puzzles, he just couldn't stand people. Somebody had told him that once. He couldn't quite recall whom. Probably Wilson. He always had those neat insights into his psyche. With regards to the clinic and people, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold his tongue. He'd never been able to before and contrary what Cameron thought, two bullets weren't going to fix him.

H

End Chapter 2

Was going to make this chapter longer so that we could get the good stuff (i.e. Chase-torture) faster but had a problem with the size of the post on LJ. Instead I'll just post the next part sooner. :)

Sagga...