Ignorance is not bliss

The following night Chase had just finished a routine appendectomy and was removing his scrubs and heading to the locker room. Before he could think about clocking off, though, he was paged to meet with the Head of Surgery, Dr. Wildermuth, in whose office he now found himself.

"Thanks for helping out this week, Robert. You have a real eye for surgical work, and we'll be sorry to see you return to Diagnostics".

Chase smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "No problem at all, Larry. It was good to get my hands dirty for a time. I suppose I'll always be a surgeon at heart".

Wildermuth sat back in his chair and rested his glasses on the desk. "Well, if you ever want to make the switch permanently, I'd snap you up in an instant".

"Thanks for the offer but I'm quite enjoying my current role".

"You've been bitten by the House bug too, eh? Look, I know he's your boss but if it were up to me, he'd have far less leeway. We can't have doctors running around playing God. Cuddy is much too easy on him for my taste".

Chase shrugged, showing that he respected the man's opinion but that he was unwilling to participate in badmouthing the Head of Diagnostics. As he had remarked to Foreman, he had nothing against House personally; it was just his effect on Cameron that he had an issue with. Chase was self-aware enough to recognise that much of his anger towards the man was as a result of his own feelings for his beautiful female colleague. Mathilde had been a useful diversion but the novelty was beginning to wear off. If Foreman was right and the two were now together, he wasn't sure how he would react. Perhaps he would be able to play it cool and wait for the relationship to implode as he was sure it would. Perhaps...

"...sleeping together", Wildermuth said.

"Huh?". Chase snapped back to reality. "Sorry, what did you say?".

"I said I wonder if House and Cuddy are sleeping together".

"Oh. Nah, I think they're just friends". He began to move to the door, unwilling to explore the intricacies of House's sex life with someone he barely knew. Frankly, the topic was something he tried not to dwell on at all.

But Wildermuth, unfazed, was willing to pursue his pet theme. "I could've sworn I saw them arrive together on his bike a couple of weeks back. They were quite far away, though, so it may have been someone else with long dark hair".

Chase shrugged his shoulders, though his mind was turning. Cameron's car had been out of commission a couple of weeks ago and Foreman had been bringing her to work; but there had been a day when he had turned up late, after Cameron. If House had given her a lift it either meant that he had done so out of the goodness of his heart or, more likely, that they were an item. The thought made him both sad and angry. 'Playing it cool' would be easier said than done. "Well, if that's all, Larry, I'd best make tracks. I'd forgotten how much surgery can take it out of you".

"Oh, of course. Thanks again, Robert, and remember that my door's always open".

Chase barely heard him as he left the room.

"Come in". Wilson glanced up to greet his visitor, who entered and approached his desk. "Ah, Dr. Chase. What brings you to my neck of the woods this evening? I was just about to leave so you've caught me just in time".

"Hi, Dr. Wilson, sorry to disturb you. I, ah…". Chase paused, uncertain if he was doing the right thing. It was no business of his if House and Cameron were together. But he had to know, one way or the other. There had been no one in Diagnostics and Wilson was his only option.

"Are you OK?", Wilson asked, shepherding the other towards the couch. He had dealt with House enough times to recognise a man in torment when he saw one.

"I'm fine, I…". Chase suddenly realised that he was talking to the doctor whom he had beaten to Mathilde's affection. Wilson was a decent man, though, and had already gallantly conceded. The Australian looked into his colleague's kindly brown eyes and decided to be open. "Actually, I'm not fine. At least, I don't think I am. I'm sorry to come to you but, as you know, House isn't really a feelings kind of guy, and I can't find Foreman…".

Wilson held up a hand. "Fire away. What's up?".

Chase ran a hand through his hair. It was now or never. Now. "Do you know if House and Cameron are together? Only Foreman seems to think so, and I've just heard some things from Wildermuth…I mean, it's fine if they are but…I'd just like to know".

Wilson sat back. The question had taken him by surprise. He had no idea that House and Cameron had kept their dalliance secret from the other diagnosticians; nor was he aware of Chase's latent feelings. All the same, it wasn't Wilson's place to divulge information that his friend had decided to keep hidden. House, he was sure, had still not forgiven him for revealing the hallucination to Cuddy, and they were friends. "I try to steer clear of discussing House's love life, Chase", he said carefully.

"I understand that. And I'm not asking for any details. I'd just like to know".

"Why?". Wilson looked into the other's pale eyes, searching them.

Chase sighed, conflicted. He wanted to stay out of it, but he also didn't; he wanted to be completely honest with Wilson, but he knew he couldn't. "Look, this may be hard for you to hear, but I'm convinced that if they are together, it'll end in tears. And when that happens, our department will become very difficult to maintain. House isn't right for Cameron. I'm sorry, I know he's your friend, but it's just what I believe".

"You seem to have given this a lot of thought".

"Cameron's my friend and I suppose House is too, in a way. I don't want to see them get hurt". Chase looked at the floor as he spoke. What he'd said was true. It just wasn't the whole truth. But there was no way he could confess to the other his desire for Cameron.

"Well, regardless, it's not my place to comment on whether or not House and Cameron are an item. I realised very early on that there are some lines I don't cross with House. This isn't a schoolyard. We're all adults, and if you want more information, you're better off going to see them personally".

Chase nodded and rose to his feet. "Fair enough. I'll speak to them".

Wilson sighed as he realised Chase's true reason for asking. His eyes softened as he remembered House's own torture coming to terms with his attraction. The difference was that Cameron liked him back. The same couldn't be said for Chase. "Look. My advice to you is to give it a week. Figure out why you want to know; figure out how you feel; figure out…if Mathilde is enough".

The other, who had his hand on the doorknob, looked back sharply. Were his feelings really that transparent? "I will. Thanks, Wilson".

Now alone, Wilson leant back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the desk while he considered options. He thought over the time recently when House had stood by that window. The man had looked out on to the sun-drenched banks and all but admitted his…what? Love? Wilson scoffed softly to himself. It was probably too early to talk of House loving Cameron. Still, the guy cared for her, and she for him. Of that, Wilson was certain. And now Chase wanted to make himself heard.

This was a tricky situation. What happened to the old days, when House cared for no one but himself? How much simpler things were, he thought. The would-be assassin had changed more than House's leg; he had changed his entire outlook on life; his outlook on her. And, true to form, James Wilson was stuck in the middle. He briefly wondered how many other oncologists in hospitals up and down the country were dealing with similar issues. Very few, he imagined. There was only one Gregory House and, it seemed, only one Allison Cameron.

There was also only one course of action. Wilson sighed and reached for his phone, quickly typing out and sending a message.

Chase is asking questions about you two.

Wilson didn't know how his friend would react to the news. What he did know was that the preliminary skirmishes were over. This would either be the beginning of the end of House and Cameron or, much more positively, simply the end of the beginning. Only time would tell.

He switched off his computer and shrugged into his coat, closing and locking his office door before trudging down the beige corridors and out into the Princeton gloom.