They come for him about an hour after lockup. They go through the usual routine of throwing him against the wall and patting him down, then lock his hands into cuffs behind him. A hood is placed over his face, blocking out his sight and he starts to struggle, this isn't part of the routine. A quick blow to the stomach doubles him over and he is dragged out of the cell.

They half carry him, half drag him down a flight of stairs and along some corridors and then down another flight of stairs. He hears some noise in the distance, becoming louder as they approach. Then a door is opened and he's shoved through it and the hood removed. Blinking, he looks around him. He's in a large gym. There's a group of prison guards in front of him, blocking his view of the rest of the gym.

"Gimp doctor is here. Let him through, he can take a look at him."

The crowd parts and he sees that there are two prisoners in a boxing ring. Neither have gloves on, both are stripped down to their undershorts. One of the prisoners stands quietly, his body glistening with both blood and sweat. The other lies on the floor of the ring, not moving. His face and mouth are covered with blood. House is pushed towards him and then down on his knees. His cuffs are unlocked. He examines the man briefly and then shakes his head.

"He's dead and I'm not the messiah, what the hell do you want me to do?"

"Clean it up and make it look like natural causes."

"His nose is smashed half way into his brain. Shall we try for suicide?"

"If that works. And one more thing, gimp." The guard produces a gun which he puts to House's head, his finger on the trigger. "What happens down here, stays down here. Got it?"

House nods slightly, his eyes never leaving the man. "Got it. You got any tickets for the next one?"

After Wilson finished administering the punishment he dismissed the fellows and gently released House from his bonds, slipping the gag out of his mouth and taking the shirt off his head so he could see again. He helped House up and over to the couch in his office, making him lay face down.

"I think Park was suitably impressed with the show," he said. "I thought she was going to faint."

"Bet Chase had a giant boner and Taub was wishing he had the belt in his hand." House's voice was thin, pain running through it. Wilson was pleased with him. He had taken his punishment well, as he always did.

"Watch Taub, and Adams," he warned. "They're not harmless, whatever you would like to believe, especially Adams. Don't give her power over you like that again."

"No, sir," House said, his words tinged with mockery. Wilson gave him a slap on his raw back and House jerked under his hands.

"You'll go without dinner tonight. I'll bring you something in the morning. You'll sleep here; you will not touch anything on my desk, or in the drawers. You'll leave this office only to use the bathroom. I'll be monitoring you from home." Wilson gestured at the camera in the corner of the office. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." House murmured, this time his voice was sincere.

Wilson tended to the lines on his back and shoulders, rubbing a soothing cream into them and then gave him his painkillers for the night.

"Next Saturday I have tickets for the Rubio fight," he said casually. "I'll ask Chase to bring you some food and your medication."

House screwed his head around to look at him.

"I want to come to the fight with you."

"And I'd like you to come, but you're restricted to the hospital, remember?" Wilson gestured at the collar. "Even if I could smuggle you out of here that thing would have you back in prison before we got a mile, and I'd be joining you."

House laid back down and closed his eyes, exhaustion and pain catching up to him. "Leave it to me, I'll work it out."

The team trooped back into House's office to report that their patient, a teenage clown of all things, was now coughing up blood. House was sitting with his chair turned away and when he turned it to face them they could see he was cradling a young baby in his hands, stroking her soft hair with one hand, while the baby happily sucked on a teething ring.

"Hey!" Taub exclaimed and rushed forward to grab the baby. House tightened his hold for a moment, eyeing Taub.

"Let go of her," Taub yelled, lunging forward to retrieve his daughter.

House eyed him for a moment longer, and then shoved the baby up at Taub. The baby promptly began fussing and squirming, ignoring Taub's efforts when he tried to calm her.

"She didn't fuss like that when I was holding her. Maybe she knows a real man when she sees him."

"Why is she here?" Taub asked, checking Sophie over carefully. He hadn't told either Ruby or Rachel about Wilson's implied threat. Both women were still angry at him, and Rachel was talking about taking Sophia away. Taub had pointed out that he'd been gracious enough not to press charges for what she'd done to him, and that that could change. She'd subsided for the moment, but he knew that any mention of a threat to Sophia and she would be gone, taking Sophia with her. The two babies were about the only thing good he had left in his life and he wasn't going to risk losing them. Wilson wouldn't do anything as long as Taub stayed in diagnostics and Taub had resigned himself to another few years as House's whipping boy. Hopefully the lunatic would do something else to get himself locked away from all the decent, sane people.

"Ruby, that's the nurse you screwed not your ex-wife who did unmentionable things to your unmentionables, dropped her off, said she had to go polish her nails or something." House replied to his question. "Don't worry, I didn't tell her you were busy screwing that bottle blond with the plastic boobs in accounting."

"I wasn't, I'm not... "Shit, how did House always find out these things? "I'll tell her not to bring Sophie here again." Taub said, cradling the child to his chest, he couldn't help but notice that she was looking back towards House with her arms out. It was probably that stupid orange collar around his neck attracting her attention.

"Oh, we don't mind, do we team? It's not like we have an actual patient to cure or anything. Oh well, he's just an incompetent clown who cares what happens to him? Let's stand around admiring the baby instead."

"I'll find someone to mind her."

"Wilson might be free I think, you could ask him. He loves children." House said, leaning back in his chair and staring at him with that stupid smug grin of his.

"We're going to the American Association of Rheumatology conference in Atlantic City on Saturday. You'll be giving the keynote speech. Doctor Neusinger has pulled out at the last moment and I've volunteered you." Foreman was sitting behind his large desk while House stood before the desk, leaning on his cane. He was playing with the remote to House's collar, his fingers skimming periodically over the surface.

House looked down at himself, at the blue prison shirt with the word, 'prisoner' prominently written across the front. "Like this?"

Foreman shrugged. "Everyone in the medical community knows what you did. The hospital will look magnanimous for giving you a chance to redeem yourself. The organisers know the situation. I don't expect any problems."

"And the prison is okay with this?"

"I've cleared it with them; as long as certain precautions are taken they have no objection."

"What sort of precautions?"

"That's none of your concern. I'll make this simple for you House, you do this, and you do it properly, or I'll take away your new office, and most of your team, and if that doesn't work I'll kick your sorry ass back to prison." He thumbed a button on the remote casually and House felt a shock travel through him, staggering him off his feet and to his knees.

"Fuck you, Foreman." He said when he had recovered his breath.

"No thanks, I have Chase for that." Foreman held his finger over the button again. "So, that's a yes then?"

"We're on for Saturday night. Big angry black men smashing each other to pieces, should be great," House announced as he sat down on Wilson's couch. He was probably interrupting Wilson's work but he didn't much care. Life was looking better this morning. Hopefully the night in Atlantic City would get Wilson in the mood for a little House fucking back at the hotel.

Wilson looked up at him with that mild expression of his, the one that fooled so many people. House felt himself tense up slightly. His shoulders and back were still marked and sore from the flogging Wilson had administered and he wasn't eager to have a repeat any time soon.

"Foreman agreed to let you go to a boxing match?"

"Foreman agreed to go with me to a conference so I can give some stupid speech. He wants to parade me around and show the other hospital boss's that he's got Doctor House on a string." House rubbed his right thigh significantly, his face contorting in a grimace for Wilson's sake.

"Did you hurt your leg?" Wilson asked. The smile was wiped off his face like it never existed.

"Arrogant, jumped up, little bastard used the collar on me. My leg's still complaining. Don't worry about that, I got what I wanted."

Wilson narrowed his eyes, obviously annoyed. His hand strayed towards the phone then retreated.

"He's can't shock you for no reason."

"Only you are allowed to punish me, right?"

"Of course. So you're going to a conference with Foreman. How exactly does that translate into you going to the match with me?"

House smiled. "You'll see."

Chase met up with House in their usual place, the ward for long term coma patients.

"Good work on Taub," House said, giving Chase a crisp twenty. Chase snapped it and put in in his pocket.

"No problem. Mandy is so stupid she thinks it's real love between them. Crazy, doesn't she know he'll stick his dick into anyone who's shorter than he is?" Chase asked, taking the cigar House waved in his direction. "Why did you want to know anyway?"

House shrugged. "Knowledge is power. It could come in handy, could not. What else have you got for me?"

"Adams parents are about the most boring set of people you could find, no history of dysfunction there at all. She was married, now divorced, husband cheated on her."

"Poor bastard, she probably cut his cock off and kept it as a trophy around her neck." House puffed on his cigar, making smoke circles over the top of the patient in the bed nearest the wall. "So what motivates a woman from a rich family to start volunteering in prisons?"

Chase shrugged. "She likes watching people suffer apparently. What better place than a prison?"

"Lots of better places, like that club you frequent on 76th street."

"Nah, that's old hat. We've moved on. The one on 34th is better. You should come sometime. You know what they say about all work and no play."

House grunted. "The Man has been tied up here for now." He waved at the collar around his neck. "Have another job for you. Foreman needs an emergency on Saturday so he can't take me to the conference."

"Thought you'd want to get out of here for a while."

"I do, just not with Foreman. Wilson has tickets to the Rubio match."

Chase looked thoughtful. "Okay, I think I can swing that, but that's a step up from nosing around for information. What's in it for me? "

House put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He flicked the wick so that a bright flame sprung up between them. Chase's eyes followed it eagerly and then he smiled.

"You got a deal, boss."

Foreman was finalising the arrangements for the conference. This would be a major coup for him. Just about every medical conference on the East Coast put in a hopeful request for Doctor House's presence, whether to give a speech, sit on a panel, or just to mingle with the other guests. Foreman figured that none of the people doing the inviting had ever met House, or they wouldn't be so keen to have him at their conferences. In all the years Cuddy had been boss here she'd managed to get House to precisely one conference, and that was in Singapore. (Rumour was that House agreed to go because it was better that he was out of the country for a few days.)

Now that Foreman had House on a leash he intended to make the most of it, starting with this conference. The entire medical world would see that Foreman controlled House, when Cuddy had abjectly failed at it.

Of course he was taking precautions. They would drive to the conference and a security guard would go with them. House would be handcuffed in the car. Foreman had been thinking he would add a gag just so he didn't have to listen to the man the whole way, but human resources had vetoed that. House would be kept in a locked security cell in the hotel until his speech, taken out for his speech and put back there once he'd answered any questions. When Foreman was finished socializing with the other doctors he'd have House collected by the local police and held in their cells until the next morning while Foreman stayed at the hotel overnight. It would be a good conference.

Pleased, he began to pack up his desk ready. He'd have security fetch House in half an hour and put him in the car ready. He looked up, frowning, as his assistant burst into his office.

"Doctor Foreman! There's been an incident on the fifth floor and the nurses are all walking out, they're all leaving! You need to come."

Foreman looked up and saw a parade of nurses going past his office. Damn! It would take hours to get this sorted out, whatever the hell had happened. And he wasn't sending House to that conference by himself.

"Tell security to lock the front doors, and get Doctor Wilson down here."

Wilson drove to the conference with House lounging in the seat beside him. Wilson had dismissed Foreman's security guard and thrown the handcuffs in the back seat, where he could find them if he needed them.

"How did you arrange that?" Wilson asked.

"Oh, sometimes it's better if you don't know, plausible deniability and all that."

"Well, as long as whatever happened can't be traced back to you."

"No, my boy Chase knows his stuff."

"And what did it cost you?"

"Found him a couple of people who like to be burnt."

Wilson looked at him with that knowing look of his and House shrugged. "Well, a couple of people who weren't in any position to protest anyway. Strange hobby that boy has, but he's good at it, no permanent harm done."

When Wilson pulled up at the hotel where the conference was being held House looked at him in shock.

"What are we doing here? The match... "

"You still need to give that speech. We'll go to the boxing afterwards. If you're a good boy and give a nice speech." He passed House a sheaf of papers.

"And if I'm not a good boy? Are you going to spank me?"

"No, I'll put you in handcuffs and we'll go straight back to the hospital. And then I'll cane you."

House took the papers and got out of the car. He pushed past the startled hotel concierge who had been staring at his 'prisoner' shirt and the bright orange collar around his throat. Wilson smiled fondly after him and followed.

His plan had worked out perfectly. Foreman would never have agreed to allow Wilson to take House to the boxing. By putting the problem in House's lap by mentioning the Rubio tickets House had solved the logistics and now Wilson could show everyone at the conference just who controlled Doctor House, and he got to watch the fight with House, and afterwards, back at the hotel room, he could indulge himself with a long slow fucking of his troublesome sub. Pissing Foreman off at the same time was just a bonus. If Foreman thought he was in charge of House Wilson would show him just how wrong he was.

He patted his pocket where he'd placed the remote Foreman had given him. His insurance in case House decided to go off script during his speech. He'd learned from the debacle with Vogler. He'd give House a quick burst just before he went on, as a reminder. And when they got to the fucking portion of the evening, well, it would add a little extra spice. He'd have to see if he could get a copy made for his own use.

By the time Foreman finally made it home it was getting close to midnight. He'd managed to talk the nurses down but it had been a close thing, a couple of the lunatics from the fifth floor had gone into hysterics, yelling about mistreatment, and attacked a nurse. He had survived but the other nurses had taken it into their heads that they weren't being properly looked after. Foreman had promised extra security and sweetened the pot with some cash here and there and things had calmed down.

He was pissed he'd had to miss the conference, but at least House had been there, and had given a good speech according to Wilson who'd reported in earlier in the night. He hadn't liked having to send Wilson in his place, but he didn't trust anyone else with House and he'd given him instructions on how House was to be handled. House should be safely in custody now. He grinned to himself at the thought of the arrogant jerk again languishing in a police cell. Hopefully he'd get some more of the 'special treatment' he'd experienced in prison.

He got himself a drink and sat down to watch the fight he'd recorded earlier. As he sipped at his scotch his eyes opened wide as the camera panned across the ringside audience. Wilson and House, at the fight. House had a jacket on to cover his shirt and a scarf to cover his collar.

House looked straight into the television camera and laughed. He raised the glass he was drinking out of as if in a silent toast to whoever was watching.

Foreman carefully put down his drink and clicked the television off. Then he made a call to the police.