a/n: Thank you everyone for such an overwhelming response to this fic. I really had no idea anyone would like this. I hope chapter two delivers. In this one, Chase performs the exam.

This is turning out to be a substitute for Words and Deeds. That makes me happy, since I've always hated that episode. Happy reading

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House stood outside the exam room, hand on the doorknob, actually surprised that he was hesitating. What was his problem? This was the perfect idea. All he did was pick another enabler to help him. Eventually, Chase would fail, just like Cuddy and Wilson, and he could get on with having his way. Still, something didn't feel right about this plan. He thought about Chase's behavior lately, especially with the Tritter mess. What if Chase was actually growing that backbone? What would he do?

He pushed back his stray thoughts, opened the door and shuffled slowly into the exam room. Chase sat at the desk, his nose in what was obviously his thick medical history. Chase didn't look up or acknowledge him.

"You want me to drop my pants, turn my head and cough?" House joked.

"Have a seat. I'll be with you in a minute." Chase's head stayed buried in the files.

"There's nothing interesting in there you know." House said, taking his place on the exam table.

"Tell me about it."

While Chase made him wait, House passed the time by kicking his legs loudly against the table and whistling some unrecognizable tune. When that got no reaction, he cracked his knuckles, and then patted the tops of his thighs with his hands like they were bongos. Chase never flinched.

Eventually, Chase got up and walked over to his new patient, file in hand. "So, anything about your current condition you'd like to share?"

"I hurt."

"Where does it hurt?"

An amused smile grew on House's face. "Oh, I see how you're going to play it. You're pretending to be the big grown up doctor. My right leg hurts Dr. Chase. That's why I have this thing called a cane. I also have this nagging headache, but it seems to go away when Cuddy is not around."

"On a pain scale of one to ten, how bad would you say the pain is?"

"Eleven."

Chase nodded and wrote down some notes in the chart without showing any reaction. "Any other problems?"

"Oh, where do I begin?"

Chase still didn't react to the wisecracking, determined to keep up the professional facade. "I'm going to start with a routine physical. We need to see what the long term Vicodin usage is doing to your body." Chase pulled over the equipment tray, and started checking House's pupils with the light pen.

"How about pretending that you're examining a doctor that knows exactly what's wrong with him? That might save us some trouble."

"I'm not blindly writing a prescription. A doctor such as yourself should know how irresponsible that is." Chase put the light pen down and went for the stethoscope. He placed it on the House's upper back. "Breathe in."

House did as instructed, then exhaled with a sigh that expressed his boredom. "Aren't you going to ask why I picked you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"The answer doesn't matter." Chase wrote more in the chart. "Your breath sounds are a little weak." He went over to the opposite wall to fetch a sphygmomanometer.

House watched Chase's brooding expression while the young doctor went on to check his BP, fitting him with the cuff, putting stethoscope in the fold of his arm, and pumping the inflation bulb. The healing bruise along the side of Chase's face was the only thing that stood out more than his mope. "You aren't the least bit curious?"

"Stop talking, I'm trying to listen to your BP."

"You still haven't answered my question."

Chase finished the reading, released the screw value to deflate the cuff, and removed the stethoscope from his ears. "You didn't want to know if I betrayed you or not, so I don't want to know why you've chosen me for your personal torture. This is my job and I'm doing it."

House looked at Chase carefully while he removed the cuff from his arm, trying to read what was really going on in his mind. "You're still mad I hit you."

Chase didn't respond and wrote more results in the chart. House began flicking his tongue against his teeth, making an irritating sound, but stopped when he found it got no reaction. "I said I was sorry."

"Uh, no, you didn't." Chase put the chart down and went back to the exam. "Have you been sleeping well lately?"

"No."

"Dizziness, nausea, vomiting, constipation?"

House nodded. "Two nights ago."

"What happened?"

"I overdosed on Oxycodone."

Chase showed no reaction and picked up the chart again. "How many did you take?"

"I went through an entire bottle in six hours."

Chase scribbled down the new information.

House was growing tired of the stoic routine. "No speeches about how reckless I was?"

"Like you said, you're a doctor. I don't need to tell you."

"I could have died you know."

"Yeah, but you didn't. Any lethargy, mood changes, anxiety, dysphoria?"

"In that order?"

"Any pain while urinating?"

"Only when Wilson is there."

Chase still didn't react, writing more in the chart. "Do you drink alcohol, especially when taking medication?"

"Isn't that a prescription for death?" House mocked. Chase continued to stare, waiting for a proper answer. He didn't get one.

"You're trying to prove my addiction to opiates."

"Among many other issues." Chase walked back to the desk, and began wildly writing.

"That better be my Vicodin prescription."

"I'm ordering a battery of tests. We are going to test renal and liver function, check thyroid, blood gasses, CBC, get a tox screen, perform a full spectrum of pulmonary function and cardiac stress tests, and.." Chase paused trying to remember what else to do.

"I'm surprised you didn't order a CAT scan or MRI."

Chase nodded. "Those too."

"And you're performing all these tests?"

"Every one. I know how results get compromised in your case."

House got up. "Okay, how about tomorrow? I just need a fresh supply of pills and I'll be on my way."

"Not so fast. There are a few tests I need to run now so I know it's safe to prescribe such a strong drug." Chase handed him a urine sample cup. "I'm also sending a nurse in here to draw blood. A new one started today. She needs the practice."

House grinned at his devilish approach. That was exactly what he would have done if the situation was reversed. "Is that all?"

"No, there's one other test I must do now. If there is an obvious problem, I can't write that prescription."

"No," House protested, knowing exactly what test that was. "You wouldn't."

Chase maintained a serious face. "It's either me, or would you prefer Cameron or Foreman? Maybe Cuddy? Wilson?"

House pondered his choices. "I do not have an enlarged prostate."

Chase continued his stare, letting him know the subject would not be dropped.

"This is a dream come true for you, isn't it?"

Chase maintained his composure.

House dropped his shoulders in defeat. "Fine, you do it." He took down his pants and leaned forward on the table.

Chase put on a glove and grabbed some gel. "This will feel a little uncomfortable."

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House wasn't at all surprised that Chase made him wait in the exam room until the tests were all done. He could have left, and Chase probably counted on him doing so, but it got him out of having to deal with Cuddy, so he stayed. He was feeling pretty edgy anyway, so it was best he avoided people. He was long overdue for his latest dose, and the anxious feeling was hitting him hard.

The exam was what he expected, but then again, it wasn't. Chase was doing what any normal doctor would do. He hated normal doctors and thought Chase was above that. If he wanted the routine exam, he would have appointed Foreman. Still, he knew why Chase was doing it. After all, he was the one that put Chase in the situation of having to separate feelings for his mentor/father figure from his job. Chase was the only doctor though he knew other than himself that could do that.

His wandering thoughts were broken when Chase entered the room. House took the slip of paper handed to him. "One Vicodin every four hours for three days?"

"That should tide you over until we get all the tests done."

"You know that isn't enough."

"It's enough to dull the pain. It's better than none at all."

House felt the building agitation burst from within. He scrunched the unsatisfactory prescription in his hand. "Do you think I'm an addict?"

"I don't know enough to make that conclusion. I know that since you've been taking Vicodin for years, your body has likely stopped producing endorphins and is letting the opiates do so instead."

"Don't give me that doctor crap. You've known me for a while now. Do you think I'm an addict?"

Chase maintained his confident demeanor. He wasn't letting House browbeat him this time. "What I think isn't relevant."

House took a step toward Chase, towering over him, his blue eyes piercing through in contempt. "You can't give me an answer because you don't like rocking the boat. The ACOA council says so. Don't trust, don't feel, don't talk. Know how to fix the situation? Give me the damn drugs so I can function, and we both can go on without upsetting our normal lives."

"You put me in this position! How can I not deal with the elephant in the room?" Chase replied with raised voice. "Placating my entire life has gotten me really far. Except I can't do it this time, can I?"

"You have options."

"No, you're the one with options. Ones you won't take because you're too stubborn or too scared. I'm doing what any responsible physician would do. If you don't like it, go back to Cuddy."

Both men glared at each other, both delivering the message that the other wasn't about to back down. After a long pause, House relented first. "Fine." He whipped open the exam room door and left in a brisk walk.

Chase took several seconds to pull himself together. He felt bad about letting House get the better of him, but if that is what was needed to deliver the message, then he would accept his behavior. He took in a deep breath and left the exam room. The next few days were going to be difficult.

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"I'm surprised you let me help," Cameron said in the MRI booth, going through the scans.

"I admit I had an ulterior motive," Chase replied with a mischievous grin.

"Hey Cameron, I bet now that you've seen my irresistible scar tissue, you're more in love with me than ever!" A voice from the MRI tube shouted.

"Stop talking House," Cameron instructed through the microphone. "You'll ruin the scan."

Cameron pursed her lips while looking at Chase. "You brought me in so he could make snide comments at me?"

Chase shrugged. "Actually, I was hoping you both would throw snide comments at each other. These tests have been pretty boring."

Cameron frowned in disapproval, but went on anyway. "How have the tests been going?"

"Nothing that I didn't expect."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means I'll offer him a long-term pain management regiment and he won't like it. Cuddy will force him, and it'll fail miserably."

Cameron silently agreed with that observation. "Why do you think he picked you?"

Chase shook his head, eyes still fixed on the scan. "The reason doesn't matter."

"I say he's doing it to make you look bad."

"I've worked for the man for three years. How worse can I look? No, he's probably doing it to screw with Cuddy. I'm just his punching bag."

Cameron stopped what she was doing and turned to face Chase. "You don't have to put up with his crap you know. You're a better doctor than this."

Chase scoffed. "Oh your concern is so touching. You know how it works. We do what our superiors tell us to do and make sure we still have a job in the end. If I fail, I'm no different than the others. If I succeed, I look good. I can't lose here."

Cameron wasn't buying it. "You actually think you can't lose? This situation has disaster written all over it."

"Not for me."

Cameron shook her head. "You don't mean that. That's your survival instinct talking."

"Hey Cameron, can I see your insides next? I want to see what makes up that stone cold heart of yours." House shouted from the MRI tube.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Can't lose, huh?"

Chase grumbled while they went back to the scan. He wanted to examine her stone cold heart too.

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a/n: Next chapter, the plot really starts to thicken as House must start following doctor's orders.