Game recognises game

A.N. I like to drop in with other characters every now and then, so no House or Cameron in this one. Sorry.

The title is my homage to an American comedian called Reginald D. Hunter, who came on British breakfast TV news a few years back and made me (and the anchors!) laugh with the phrase. According to Urban Dictionary, to have "game" is to attract people of the opposite sex.


Foreman and Chase were in the White Lion for a bite to eat and a drink after work. This was something that occurred less frequently these days, for a couple of reasons: prior to Cameron and House's relationship beginning, just as the former organised and dealt with much of the official paperwork, so she often provided the impetus for departmental meetups (Chase went along because he liked her; Foreman because he couldn't spend all his time at the hospital). So, now that the immunologist no longer worked in Diagnostics, the social calendar was less busy. But this didn't tell the whole story: Foreman, as acting Head, felt that he should cultivate a degree of distance from his subordinates, even if they were such only temporarily.

And yet, despite that intended aim, even he needed a friend occasionally. He was struggling with a matter of the heart, something unusual for himself.

"Cheers", said Chase, and they clinked glasses. "Been a while since we did this".

"Mmm. The last time we ended up talking with those lawyer women, didn't we?". Foreman loosened his tie and sat back into the booth. The place was quite busy, filled with its usual patrons from the hospital and offices round about.

"Yeah. Can you remember the name of yours?".

"Nope. I know that she was boring, though". At that, Chase opened his mouth to speak, but Foreman waved him down: "yeah, yeah: 'she sounds about right for you, mate' or whatever you were about to say".

Chase chuckled. "Your Australian needs a bit of work".

"You all sound British to us".

"The hell? I can't even begin to tell you how far apart are those accents. Not surprised, though. It's something I've noticed", he mused, taking a swig from the bottle and offering the other a little smirk.

"What's that?".

"You Americans have this view that English is your language, and everyone else has an 'accent'. But, really, you're the ones with the accent. A big, dopey 'murican accent".

"I figure accents only matter when you're in the minority. Like, it's a moveable category. As an Australian in America, you have an accent. A British accent, or whatever".

Chase scowled. "Say what you want, man. Chicks dig it".

"They dig the height of your cheekbones. And your hair".

"Y'know what? That's actually fair. I am pretty handsome", he winked. "What kind of moron wouldn't take advantage of that fact?".

"So, how's it going for you at work?".

"Ohh, this is a work meeting, is it?", he laughed.

"Sort of", Foreman admitted.

"It's fine and all, but, no offence, you're not House". Like the other fellows, including Thirteen most recently, Chase had largely taken up his position at PPTH because he had wanted to work under House. Indeed, he was the original fellow, having been alone for a couple of months before Cameron's arrival on the scene. Consequently, he had chafed somewhat under Foreman's leadership. Sure, the neurologist was probably the most suited to take over, but that didn't magically solve the fact that both men were similar in both age and experience. House had been annoying, and his weird hold over Cameron still caused confusion, but the guy was a once-in-a-generation talent: he had, frankly, earned the right to be overbearing towards his subordinates.

Foreman, however, still needed to prove himself professionally. Chase was happy to talk to him as a friend and colleague, but that was pretty much it.

"I understand that", said Foreman. "I'm not trying to pull rank. But I am in charge for now".

"Yeah, yeah", returned Chase with a half-smile.

"What's your take on Thirteen?".

"She seems a good doctor", shrugged the other. "And an absolute babe".

"Mmm".

Suddenly Chase set down the bottle from which he'd been sipping and gazed at the other with his grey eyes. "Ohh…OK. Now I get it. Not a complete robot, then: Eric has someone in his sights".

"Maybe I do. Broke it off with Katie recently and am wondering how Thirteen would react if I asked her out. What do you think? It worked for House and Cameron".

"It did, I guess", nodded the Australian. "But do you think the situations are, I dunno…", he waved a hand in the air, "…comparable? For one thing, there were signals between House and Cameron. Are there signals here?".

"Hard to say", admitted Foreman, rotating his own beer bottle on its Canada Dry coaster. "She's sort of a closed book".

"Yeah, quite. Seems a risk to ask her out. Plus, you are—as you keep pointing out—her boss".

"House asked-".

"-you're not House, Foreman. As I've already said".

"Sure, but he and Cameron's situation is the only parallel we have to work off".

Chase laughed shortly into his beer.

"What?".

"Ah, nothing".

"No, seriously".

"It's just…the way you phrased it, it's like you're doing a differential. There are no parallels in emotions. It's not as if we're diagnosing a patient here, is it—no one circumstance is the same; no one person is the same". Chase knew this better than most. Nine times out of ten, he could get any woman he wanted. It didn't matter if they were hot, not so hot, or plain average; when it came to members of the fairer sex, he knew how to talk, seduce, and, ultimately, win. He knew the game. Only one person in recent memory had caused him to lose the game: a completely gorgeous brunette (now blonde); the one woman out of ten who had told him 'no' and settled on another.

"True", muttered Foreman. Though by no means a novice himself, he was definitely happy to cede the initiative to his colleague when it came to romance. "So you think I should fish for more information before shooting my shot?".

"Probably. But do what you want. What I will say is that it's nice that you have something other than medicine in your life, man. House is the only one in this department who can pull off the lone ranger vibe".

"Mmm. You want another of the same or something different?".

"Same is good, thanks".

While Foreman went to the bar, Chase sat back and examined those within his eyeline. There were a bunch of doctors whom he vaguely recognised from the hospital, their suit jackets hanging over the back of their stools. To his right was a guy and a girl, presumably a couple, heads together, hands entwined on the table surface. To his left a trio of professional-looking women. Already one of them was glancing furtively in his direction. He supressed a smile and ran a hand through his surfer blonde hair. Nine times out of ten.

The neurologist returned and set down the fresh beer.

Chase gave a murmur of thanks, took a swig, and asked a question levelly: "how'd you think House and Cameron are managing, then?".

"Do you want my honest answer or shall I sugarcoat it?".

"It's fine. God, I'm over her now. It's not meant to be". Chase had known this for a while; ever since Cameron had completely ignored his carefully placed 'Tuesday' note, in fact. Even after breaking up with House, she still had not shown herself receptive to his advances. That was it. Life goes on. There were other fish in the sea.

"I think Cameron and House are likely to be doing well. She seems the kind of person who would enjoy taking care of someone".

"She's maternal", grunted Chase, gazing into his new bottle.

"Beneath that quiet, calculating exterior. Yeah, I think so".

"And the House factor?".

"No idea about that. Whatever House's 'factor' is, it appeals to Cameron".

"Mmm. I don't understand it". Still Chase remained gazing at his bottle. Talking about the beautiful immunologist always made him reflective to an extent that he didn't like. It was much easier for him, in life, to stay above the cut and thrust of emotional attachment. Feelings just got in the way. Like now.

"Me neither", agreed Foreman. "An acquired taste's an acquired taste".

Even though he had initiated the Cameron conversation, Chase decided to change topic before a surge of old feelings could make themselves heard. "Has Cuddy given you any indication about how long House'll be out of action for?".

"No. I imagine it'll be a while yet. Another couple of months, maybe. He won't even have started on rehab yet, and from what I've heard Cuddy is gonna insist that he takes as much time as needed". Foreman of course accepted the impermanence of his current status. House was the rightful Head of Diagnostics and it would take a monumental act of self-delusion to pretend otherwise. All the same (and he would never confess this to anyone), a large part of him struggled with the prospect of falling back into the ranks. Ever since beginning at PPTH he had found small ways to differentiate himself from his peers: an aloof manner, a seat at the head rather than the side of the shared conference table, a preference for suit and tie instead of white coat: all of these added up, at least in his own mind, to mark himself as different from Cameron and Chase; even from House, really.

And, now, he had the promotion to show for it. Until House returned.

"True. If he even does rehab", said Chase.

Foreman snapped out of his thoughts and gave a little snort. "Cameron'll make him. She's bossy".

"Mmm. Did you get the acceptance email about our joint article, by the way?".

"I did. Not quite Cameron's AJM, but still decent". The pair of them had decided to publish their London papers as a team. It had required a lengthy draft process that neither particularly wanted to repeat.

"And Tiffany Kim's piece is out soon, too", added Foreman. "Next week, I think".

Chase perked up noticeably. "True. I'd forgotten about that. Well, cheers to us".

The pair clinked glasses and relaxed back into the hubbub of the bistro.