Disclaimer: I don't own House MD it was created by David Shore and owned by FOX and NBC/Universal, and produced by Heel and Toe Films and Bad Hat Harry Productions. I also don't own and film, book, television show, monster truck, bread, or anything else that references a real world contraption (since usually I avoid it for this purpose). Most things mentioned under this clause I suggest that you as the reader check out. And special thanks to the lj group Clinc Duty, for putting in their hours and providing me with the word for word (not to mention proper spelling) of the House episodes I modify. So Welcome to the Wonderful World of Fanfiction.

Warning: This is Slash (/): which means relations of the male-kind. With some Friendship (+): they are friends they hang out and are supportive. More specifically House/Chase and Taub+Kutner

Author's Note: Explanatory AN is at the end. FYI my lovely beta has not returned to me the corrections for 2.2 yet so there might not be an update next Monday but since it is written and my beta doesn't disappear for a year. It should not be a horribly long wait.

Happy Reading!

Lifestyle

Chapter 2.1: The Social Contract

House walked through the halls of the hospital heading towards the diagnostics conference room. He leaned on his new orange cane and smiled. It had been a week since he had talked to Chase. Everything was working out pretty good. The average amount of vicodin that he took after three days was fourteen. To encourage House to stick to that amount for the time being at least every second day in the morning House would find a refill bottle on his desk or in his mailbox depending on if House was working. At first House thought to secret away the extras since on the second day he took the remaining pills in the morning and therefore should have had two extra pills at the end of the second bottle. But Chase was sneaky and only filled his prescription with 28 pills. It was kind of annoying but House could live with it; mostly because it was kind of nice to just find his vicodin filled when he ran out.

House was also particularly happy about the gift he received from Chase. The orange cane pissed off Cuddy to no end. The first day back Lisa Cuddy looked at the loud cane with a sort of sad internal loathing. Then someone must have complained and Cuddy took the cane and gave him one that was of dark brown.

He had protested that the cane had been a gift, not to mention against his rights as a disabled person. Of course Cuddy hadn't believed him, about the gift, at all and had called Wilson. When Wilson said that he had not given House anything and he would normally be surprised if someone, who wasn't him, risked giving House a present or that House actually used any present that he had been given. But before Cuddy could take away his new cane Wilson admitted to seeing the brown paper wrapping that had been left in the living room. Cuddy amended her rule, saying that he couldn't see patients with his orange cane. Due to some sort of professional decorum, a basic dress code for doctors similar to the lab coat. He was suppose to used the boring cane for clinic duty—if he remembered, like when he remembered the lab coat, or his tie.

Lastly House was in a good mood because in only a couple nights Low-Down-Blue-Meanie was going against the Incinerator. The Incinerator was a very popular monster truck, and House knew that Wilson had an affinity for Low-Down-Blue-Meanie so it promised to be exciting.

House entered the conference room to see everyone except for Taub, who was sitting; standing around the conference room table there seemed to be some sort of excitement in the room. Deciding he didn't want to know why everyone was so excited he turned to head into his office.

"Cameron brought this up from the ER," said Foreman holding out a blue patient folder.

House glanced at the file quickly briefly pausing in his step, "Doesn't look like a friendship bracelet." House threw his backpack onto the white chair in his office and turned to face his team. He was poised to turn and continue into the office if the patient was boring.

Kutner replied excitedly, "It's Phineas Gage, the most famous case study in medical history."

The elder doctor was surprised, obviously it wasn't the real Phineas Gage but version 2.0 would be just as interesting, "You're telling me this patient got a railroad spike drilled through his frontal lobe?" House stepped forward and took the file flipping it open.

"No. No trauma, but he does have frontal lobe disinhibition. Just like Gage," smiled Foreman. Hose closed the file, it appeared his team would give him all the answers; he loved it when he didn't need to read patient files.

Thirteen added, "Gage was a different person after the spike: argumentative, impulsive."

"Whereas our guy became a different person after Chardonnay," House had read that far.

"He was sober when they brought him in. There's also the nosebleed, the collapse," Taub said, House wondered if he ever got excited about a mystery.

House turned his attention to Foreman, "MRI show anything?"

The smile on Foreman's face grew, "Nothing."

"Good. What fun would that be?" House asked satisfied that they had a good case, "So the tumour's not in the cool neighbourhood. It's cool neighbourhood adjacent."

"A well-placed tumour in the nasal cavity eroding into the brain could do the damage," said Thirteen.

House thought over her words before nodding, he handed the file to Forman and said, "Go stick a scope up Phineas' nose. See what you find."

Blue eyes watched as his four kids left the room to test their patient. Taking out his bottle of vicodin he shook it a couple times and read the label. The bottle was dated back to when Amber was still around, he was actually sure that the bottle was new when Ridiculously Old Guy was still around. He looked at the pills even if the bottle was that old that did not give any hint to how old the pills were. House shook out a couple pills and turned them over in his hands a couple time. Shaking his head, House dry swallowed two of the pills. Putting the pills back into his pocket, the diagnostician decided to go looking for his friend.

The first place the doctor looked for his friend was in his office. House knocked and opened the door to find the room empty. He knew though, that Wilson tried to lock his office door if he was going to be gone for long periods of time. Looking around He found Wilson talking to some male nurse a little ways down the hall. Gregory used this as an opportunity to catch up with his friend.

House caught up to Wilson not long after he stopped talking to the male nurse, at least House thought he wouldn't have to worry about the next future ex-Mrs. Wilson, or at least he was pretty sure. Wilson hadn't dated any males since they met in Louisiana. He decided to think about that later, instead House said excitedly, "Wednesday night. Low-Down-Blue-Meanie versus the Incinerator."

"I can't," replied Wilson reading a file in his hand.

House was a bit shocked and confused, "Let me rephrase. Low-Down-Blue-Meanie—"

"I understand monster truck code. Do you understand 'can't'?" asked Wilson a bit annoyed.

"Not when it follows 'Low-Down-Blue-Meanie.' Is the world coming to an end Tuesday night? Otherwise, Wednesday—" They came to a stop at their floor's nurses' station.

Wilson sighed annoyed, putting his file down on the counter, "All right, it's not 'can't.' It's 'don't want to.' The fact is... I just don't like monster trucks."

The oncologist started to walk again and in House's shock he had to catch up, "Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"You've always liked monster trucks," insisted House.

"No, you've always liked them, I've tolerated them," answered Wilson stopping and turning towards his friend, "seriously, I can only watch so many hyped-up dune buggies crush so many motor homes without feeling the urge to go see La Boheme. And I hate opera too."

Blue eyes studied their friend, "What are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding it. I'm saying it loud and proud. Death to monster trucks," Wilson said with a slightly raised voice, he also raised his fist as if to say 'fight the power.' He also noticed that Kutner was approaching before House did, so he could escaped House's inquiry soon.

"No nasal cancer. And no marriage either if our patient keeps saying everything that comes into his head without regard for the consequences," said Kutner when he reached the older doctors.

Wilson looked at House in a combination of amusement and anger, "You always led me to believe you were one of a kind."

"Luckily jerkiness is a temporary condition for this guy," added Kutner.

House countered Kutner's statement, "No, it's not. We may be able to fix his impulse to say his thoughts out loud, but he always gonna be the guy who thinks them."

"But he's also gonna be the guy who doesn't say them. If he spent his whole life constructing this nice guy persona, isn't that as much who he really is as anything else?" Wilson defended.

House sneered at his friend, "You would argue that. You're all persona."

"I agree with Wilson. This guy's a Harry Potter," Kutner said, both House and Wilson were silent. Kutner looked at the elder doctors to see their questioning looks, with a sigh he explained, "The sorting hat was going to put Harry in Slytherin based on his nature. He refused, so he ended up in Gryffindor, through choice."

Ignoring Kutner's metaphor, "There's damage somewhere in his brain. Go find it." House turned back talk to Wilson after he watched Kutner leave, only to see his friend walking away.

With an aggravated sigh House shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the bottle of vicodin

Blue eyes stared into the orange bottle at the remaining white pills for a pregnant moment. Popping the top House shook the bottle over his open hand. House watched as five pills fell into his hand. Blue eyes studied the pills for a moment; his leg seemed to have a pain twinge. House rolled the pills in his hand debating taking a couple more. Making his decision House returned three of the pills to the bottle and swallowed the remaining two pills. Returning the bottle to his pocket, House swung his orange cane in the air, before smiling.

The nephrologist knew just the way to bug Cuddy. House made his way to his office. In the corner by the door sat the boring dark brown cane, he switched his cane and made his way over to radiology. He was happy to see that he had beaten his team to the MRI. Going into the control centre, House picked up the phone and paged Cuddy.

Sitting down in the chair House used his cane to turn off the lights. The waiting wasn't even bad, he was filled with anticipation. He briefly spared a thought for Cuddy; he hoped she recognised the mocking he was aiming for by using the boring cane.

Another small part of House wondered if Cuddy actually liked him, since she always came when he paged her for a consult. The more logical part of his brain disagreed since he knew that he would not do any work until he got his consult and would continue to bother her until she came. So logically she only humoured him so that he would do work. After this time for a pointless consult he would have to change up the game. House was interrupted by Foreman and Thirteen rolling in their patient.

It appeared that Thirteen was trying to make sure that the patient understood the procedure. House vaguely wondered what happened to Kutner since he was the kid that House had told to do the MRI.

House ignored them until Nick said something interesting, "I don't mean to be abrasive. Especially since you're such a pleasure to image naked. Again, sorry."

"It's okay," replied Thirteen, House was happy to see that she was a lot less scandalised then Cameron would have been. But in the same note he would have liked to see what Cameron would have done. He briefly thought about paging her as well but decided he would have been caught too soon. House missed the reply by their patient and realised that Thirteen was beginning to sound like a broken record, perhaps she was annoyed. House perked up though when Cuddy walked in.

"House paged," said Cuddy annoyed.

"Whoa, I would do her in a minute with fudge and a cherry on top," said the patient excitedly, then more subdued, "would someone please explain to this woman? There's only so many apologies—"

Thirteen cut him off, turning towards Cuddy, "He has frontal lobe disinhibition."

"I've already embarrassed myself with one doctor," Nick began sounding apologetic, before his mouth got out of hand, "whom I am at this moment imagining... with you in a king-sized bed... with a mirror on the ceiling..." the patient trailed off before looking apologetic, "I am so, so sorry. But if I couldn't have both of you together, you would definitely be my first choice."

The hospital's administrator began to look around, "Where's House?"

Before House could be sad that his entertainment was over Nick continued, "It's like trying not to think of an elephant. Not that you're an elephant. Your breasts, in fact, are all homo sapiens—"

Forman began to lay the patient down forcefully, "House isn't here."

House smirked in the dark, and he thought Foreman knew him by now, Cuddy replied, looking around again, "Oh, he wouldn't have paged me if he couldn't watch and enjoy the—"

The elder doctor sighed that was his cue he uses his cane once more to turn the lights up cutting off Cuddy's rant. Lisa gives him a disgusted look before turning and heading for the door. House sat up hoping for a big finish. And Nick didn't disappoint, making Cuddy pause at the door, "Your tush is like the pistons in a Ferrari."

Cuddy gives Nick and House a disgusted and annoyed looked before leaving the room. House quickly got up to follow her not wanting his amusement to end. For Cuddy's angry retreat House was able to catch up with her easily outside of radiology, "You're welcome."

"That was for my benefit?" asked Cuddy appalled.

House replied, "You're 40 years old—"

"38."

"—The administrator of a hospital—"

"Dean of medicine."

"—People don't get personal with you," replied House pointedly, not letting Cuddy get another word in, "except for me, and you dismiss me as a jerk who's jerking you around," Cuddy pushed the button for the elevator, House quickly continued, "but that guy can only tell the truth. And he prefers your body to that of a smoking young hottie."

Disbelievingly Cuddy replied, "So that was your way of saying I look good today."

The diagnostician had found the situation very funny and thought that Cuddy would at least get part of the joke or now that he thought about it in truth it really was some twisted compliment, "You didn't get the slightest kick out of that?" Blue eyes watched as the elevator doors opened and Cuddy get on.

Before the door close Lisa Cuddy replied, "Don't be ridiculous, House."

After the elevator doors closed House pushed the call button for his own elevator. When the elevator came, House entered it with a smug smile. His afternoon had been amusing so far all that was left was to wait for the answer that Forman and Thirteen were getting.

House made it back to his office and took out his PSP sitting down at the conference room table he started a new game. He was barely through the first level when Taub and Kutner came into the room.

House looked up at the Indian doctor, "I thought I told you to do the MRI?"

Dark eyes fell on their boss, "I had clinic duty, Thirteen said she would do it."

The elder doctor nodded and continued his game. Taub sat down opposite of House and picked up a discarded newspaper. Kutner went over to the coffee pot and started to brew more of the dark drink. Eventually Kutner sat down with a mug of sweetened and creamed coffee. The ex-Marine brat thought that Lawrence Kutner didn't need any more sugar or caffeine, but House didn't say anything.

Not long afterwards House registered the entrance of Foreteen. Pausing his game House looked up at the couple expectantly. Thirteen answered his silent question, "His cingulate gyrus isn't lighting up."

"It is too close to the spinal cord to biopsy," added Foreman.

House nodded and looked around the room, Kutner said, "It could be neurosarcoidosis."

"That is what we thought," said Foreman looking at House he added, "we already started him on steroids."

Blue eyes narrowed in annoyance, "We won't know anything else for about twelve hours," looking at the clock, "and our patient will be asleep. Someone should do an EKG, CBC, all of that fun stuff, just to be sure it isn't in his heart or blood. Tell the nurses to be on the eye out for anything abnormal in any organ function, go home; there is nothing more we can do." House saved his game took a couple vicodin and stood up. Switching canes again House got ready to go home for a day.

Author's Note: Please Read and Review