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: So I have run out of beta-ed chapters so it might be a few weeks until another update. It seems that some people do not understand the term Marine Brat. So I will clarify (to the best of my knowledge) a Marine Brat or Army, Navy, Air Force (etc.) Brat refers to a child of a person(s) in a branch of the armed forces that lives with their parents on a base. I have already promised that I would limit the use of this term in new chapters that I write (but since I have 12 post total written before I began to post it may be a bit).

Happy Reading!

Lifestyle

Chapter 2.4: The Social Contract

House woke up in the late morning; it was so late that he might as well call it early afternoon. Taking a couple of Vicodin, he got out of bed and made his way into his living room with his orange cane. The bottle of Vicodin had reminded him of his worries the previous evening. Picking up his cell phone, House dialled the nurses' station that was on the operating room floor. He quickly asked for Chase's schedule, acting as if he was trying to figure out when to book him for a surgery. Chase was having a busy day but he was free for a couple of hours at one, so he could get a quick lunch and have time to read about his next procedure.

Quickly, House texted the blond doctor as he walked down the hall towards the bathroom. He asked to meet the Australian at a nearby restaurant for breakfast at one. Tossing his phone on the sink, House stripped and got ready for the day.

It was sunny outside and a good portion of the snow had melted, which was good because House drove his car to work the previous day and Wilson had dropped him off at his apartment when they had driven back. Grabbing his leather jacket and his helmet, House was happy to be able to clip his matching cane to his bike as he drove to the nearby IHOP.

The Hostess smiled at him, daylight hours were a bit slow for the restaurant since two in the morning seemed to be the best time for pancakes. "Just one today?" she asked.

"Two, I don't know if he got here first - blond with an accent?" replied House.

The Hostess smiled and picked up two menus, "Nope, but I'll keep my eye out..." She was about to say something else but noticed House's cane and shut her mouth. Glancing down at the seating chart she looked up and added, "Right this way."

She led him to a table by the window set for two. She put down the menus and told him the name of his waiter. House ignored her and flipped open the menu, glancing through the lunch specials. A few minutes later a young man came over to take House's drink order. He ordered two cups of coffee. He sat back to wait for Chase to arrive.

It didn't take long for the blond to come in and sit across from House. He flipped open the menu before looking up at his ex-boss. "So why are we eating breakfast at one o'clock this far from the hospital? And since when are you my boyfriend?"

House looked up at the last question studying Chase, and asked in disbelief, "Cameron?"

"You don't want to see Allison, so we're eating here?" asked Chase, now confused.

"I haven't gone to work yet and this is the closest place to my apartment that I can get breakfast." House shrugged. "Who said I was your boyfriend? Cameron?"

Chase looked scandalised. "No, the hostess. Why would my girlfriend say that I'm your boyfriend?"

The waiter came by and put down the two cups of coffee with a little tray with the fixings. Chase murmured his appreciation and then said that he wasn't ready as he focused on House, awaiting his answer. "Cameron got all possessive of you when you brought me lunch and ate with me."

House mixed in some cream and sugar to his coffee before waving over their waiter. He placed his order and then they waited for Chase to make a decision. When they had both ordered and the waiter had left them to their own devices they leaned back and sipped their coffee.

When the food arrived Chase asked, "So why did you invite me to lunch?"

"I'm becoming paranoid," replied House, taking a bite of his lunch. "I spent a good portion of my time last night in a waiting room inspecting my Vicodin."

"You were in a waiting room?" replied Chase. "Are you all right?"

"Can we not focus on where I was? That isn't important. What is important is that I keep thinking that you replaced my Vicodin."

Chase swallowed what was in his mouth, put down his fork and took a sip of coffee. "Don't worry about it."

"How can I not worry?" asked House, "You really haven't done anything yet."

Green eyes looked into blue and held the stare. "Look House, you can't say that, I have a plan and I'm going to implement it. It hasn't even been two weeks yet. You also have to remember that you didn't want to know exactly what I was going to do. If you think about it you can see what I've done."

The nephrologist looked at the other doctor and thought while he ate. Chase was right. His Vicodin had to be Vicodin because his pain was where it should be. And Chase had done things: made sure he survived the methadone, regimented his Vicodin, and made sure he wasn't without the medications. And even if it would be harder for him to take more Vicodin, he could always take less on those good days. So Chase was helping him.

They finished their meal and House pointedly looked at Chase when the check came. On their way out the hostess gave them a big smile. In the parking lot House stopped at his bike but called to Chase before he could get too far. "Follow me to my apartment and then give me a ride to the Hospital. I left my car there."

Chase nodded his assent to his former boss and followed the orange bike out of the parking lot. House pulled his bike up next to the front step of 221. The diagnostician limped into his apartment, leaving his cane with the bike. He dropped off the helmet and the bike keys before picking up his backpack and heading back outside. Grabbing his orange cane from the bike he leaned on it heavily and got into the blond's car. Once he was settled House took a couple Vicodin.

The Australian dropped off his ex-boss by the front doors before driving to his own parking spot. House made his way in, quickly signed in and made his way to the elevator bank. He was cut off by a busty brunet. "Where have you been House? It's two in the afternoon."

House paused and looked at Cuddy. "Two o'clock, you say? Two in the afternoon? Well I guess my watch must have stopped, sorry."

"Where were you this morning?" asked Lisa Cuddy.

"I got home late," House shrugged and then changed his tone to a sappy concerned tone. "You see my best friend had a personal emergency and I went with him for moral support."

Cuddy glared at the older doctor. "And Wilson made it into work on time."

"And my patient," House emphasized, "will be discharged today at five, and since I didn't get a page then he is still being discharged and I wasn't needed."

"Well, you're on clinic duty until it's time to clock out," said Cuddy as she began to push House towards the clinic. They passed Chase on his way to the elevators; blue eyes followed the blond doctor.

House almost tripped since he was watching Chase and not where he was being pushed. "Hey watch it, cripple here."

"Well if you stopped staring at the nurses then you wouldn't have tripped," snapped Cuddy.

The nephrologist smirked. "Who said anything about nurses? Dr. Chase is looking great today."

The brunet administrator paused in her step for a moment, while House continued to walk. He felt better when he wasn't being pushed. Cuddy set House up in the clinic and gave the nurses specific instructions to not let him leave until he could clock out (as if he had been at work since the morning). She also took his bag, jacket and orange cane saying that she would put them in his office. House settled in exam room one for the next few hours, only interrupted when a nurse handed him his dark brown cane.

At the shift change (when House would normally go home) House made his way to the elevators. He got off at the ICU and made his way to the doctor's locker room. House quickly made his way to Chase's locker and broke in. He made sure that he did not ruin the lock as he opened the locker. Blue eyes spotted the blond's messenger bag and with a shrug he placed four empty prescription bottles from his sports jacket pocket on the top shelf. Part of House didn't want to give the bottles to Chase, but at the same time he realised that it would be for the best. Closing the locker and locking it, House made his way back to the elevators.

House made his was to his office to pick up his jacket and bag and to switch canes. The Diagnostics and Oncology hallway was rather quiet. The ex-marine brat wasn't even that surprised when he found Wilson in the hallway waiting for him. "You okay?" House asked, knowing that the previous night they had been too tired to talk.

They began to walk to the elevators and Wilson replied, "I'll be seeing Danny again next week. I'd like you to meet him."

"Sure." House shrugged, stopping to wait for the elevator. "He sounds interesting... go on."

"I thought seeing him again would change everything. It would be wonderful or terrible," replied Wilson hesitantly. "Instead… we're just strangers. It's kind of… anticlimactic."

The elevator arrived and both of the doctors stepped in and faced the front, Wilson glancing to see that their floor had already been hit. They were ignoring the other people in the elevator when House commented, "Which is better than terrible."

Wilson heard the light sigh and glanced at his friend encouragingly. "Go on."

"Does it bother you that we have no social contract?" murmured House.

The oncologist chuckles, "My whole life is one big compromise. I tiptoe around everyone like they're made of china. I spend all my time analyzing: What will the effect be if I say this? Then there's you. You're a reality junkie. If I offered you a comforting lie, you'd smack me over the head with it. Let's not change that."

"Okay," replied House with an internal smile.

"No see, this... if you were implementing the social contract, you'd say that, but only because… It makes me feel better…" Wilson trailed off, confusing himself.

House admitted, "It is kind of fun watching you torture yourself."

Wilson took a deep breath and turned to his friend in a serious manner. "Do you think things will work out with my brother?"

The elevator stopped. Both House and Wilson stepped out and made their way toward the exit. They paused quickly to sign out and continued towards the door.

"No," House answered, "but when it does go wrong, it won't be your fault."

Wilson paused for a moment. "Thanks, House."

The diagnostician finally caved in and asked the question that had been bothering him for a few days, "You do actually like monster trucks?"

Wilson smiled and said, "Absolutely," as he opened the doors and stepped out of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

"I TiVo-ed the match," House admitted, "come over and watch."

"I'll meet you there," replied Wilson. As House moved closer to his car and Wilson stepped towards the direction of his parking spot, the dirty blond paused and turned back to his friend. "Before I forget, who was that woman who was watching you sleep? If she wasn't a hooker then was she a new girlfriend?"

Blue eyes looked up into hazel—first he was surprised and then amused. "She's an up-and-coming RN, funny story, but she is the wife of the Guy-From-The-Bus-Stop," Wilson looked at House like he was crazy and started to walk again, House yelled, "Don't forget to pick up dinner on the way."

Wilson paused in his step, but with a shake of his head, he continued on. House knew that he would get them dinner. He got in his own car and headed back to his apartment. House got into his apartment and all he did was take off his jacket and shoes before he sat down on the sofa. The most accommodating thing that the elder doctor did for his future guest was push his bike helmet to the far end of the sofa and leave the door unlocked.

Picking up the remote, House checked to see if all of his shows recorded properly. He was happy to see that he got a new episode of the L Word that he had missed the previous night, a double doctor episode of Doctor Who, and a second not-so-amusing monster truck match.

House queued up the two matches and waited for his friend. He pulled out his Vicodin bottle and shook out two. He paused for half a second longer than normal, eyeing the pills in suspicion, but he already knew that that bottle was fine, so he swallowed the pills.

It wasn't long until Wilson showed up, knocking on the door pointlessly. Wilson came in with a couple of pizzas and a six-pack. He sat down next to House while the elder doctor hit play on his remote. The two doctors ate and drank as they watched their show.

After Wilson left, House headed for his bedroom and got ready to sleep. He got into bed, took two more Vicodin and lay down. In the back of his mind House kept thinking that the Vicodin were placebos and that the pain was not going to go away enough for him to get any sleep. It wasn't until House laid there awake for more than an hour that he realised that his leg really didn't hurt and that his brain doubted the physical sensation.

With a sigh, House got up and made his way out to the living room. He picked up his phone and paged Chase, "Come over ASAP." Throwing the phone onto the sofa, House sat down and began to watch the L Word.

Fifteen minutes into the episode, House realised that he really wasn't paying any attention to the show. He was only thinking about a solution to his problem. Stopping the episode, House flipped through until he found the Doctor Who episode he had recorded. It was a rerun, so he turned that on and let his mind wander.

He vaguely registered that his own pager went off and only looked at it long enough to see that it was from Chase. House got off of the sofa and unlocked the front door before he sat back down and thought.

House was reasonably sure he had a decent solution when there was a knock on the door. "It's unlocked," called House. When the door opened he added, "You missed your British classic episode of Doctor Who, but I can restart it."

"Please tell me you paged me, and made me lie to Allison about where I was going, for something more than mocking me," replied Chase, closing the door.

House shifted in his seat and glanced at the other doctor. Chase sighed and moved around the sofa and sat next to his former boss. They watched the end of the episode, where the disassociated doctor returned to his own time. When the credits began to roll, blue eyes glanced over at the blond. "I can't sleep."

"So you usually don't watch TV this late... or should I say early in the morning?" asked Chase, annoyed.

Gregory House ignored him. "I kept thinking that the Vicodin was a fake and that the pain wouldn't go away so I could sleep, but the pain was already gone."

Chase looked at his ex-boss and thought for a pregnant moment. "What do you want me to do?"

"I need a distraction," replied House. Before Chase could ask more, House continued, "Pain has always been a good distraction technique for me, especially when I was trying to forget Vicodin, but if I come in with broken bones or visible cuts or bruises, then Wilson will find me out."

Robert Chase was beginning to get a little annoyed—it wasn't like House to skirt around the

issue. "And what do you suggest?"

"Well I know I made fun of you and implied the exact opposite... but I know what it entails when you say that you had a girlfriend that liked to be burned," said House, giving his once duckling a pointed look.

"No!" Chase shook his head, green eyes wide.

"I bet that you know how to properly bruise someone so that the bruises won't be seen at work and will stay for a couple days so whenever I need a distraction all I have to do is sit down, or shift, right?" said House, looking Chase in the eye.

"I do, but I haven't done it in a long time and I—"

"Will it mentally scar you?" interrupted House.

Chase shook his head. "No."

---------------------------------------This scene was deleted because it contained mild BDSM themes (for full chapter see my homepage in my profile)----------------------------------------

"Put the cane away, turn the lights off and lock the door behind you," said House as he made his way down the hallway. He could hear Chase moving around his apartment. He made his way into his bedroom flopped down on the bed on his stomach and fell asleep.

Author's Note: Please Read and Review