Chapter 7

`Where were you last night?'

`What?'

`Not a difficult question, Chase.'

`Home. You made that pretty clear.'

House reached over to snag Chase's arm. `However did you manage to get a bruise like that "at home"?'

Chase looked down at the bruising around his wrist as if he had never seen it before. He didn't say a word.

`You went back there,' House stated. `Or did you go straight to the source and knock on the ex's door? He's certainly the most reliable source of bruising that you know!'

`I was at home last night,' Chase said.

`Is this like "I tripped"?' House asked caustically.

`Believe what you want, but I was at home.'

`So how exactly did you manage to get that interestingly-coloured bruise?'

Chase looked at the floor and hovered from one foot to the other. `You did it,' he bit out eventually.

`What?' he asked incredulously.

`You did it,' Chase repeated, still not meeting House's eyes. `When you took me out of the bar.'

He remembered now, gripping Chase's wrist to pull him out of the bar, being angry enough to punch him, though he had done nothing but lead him hurriedly out. The bruise was purple, just fading to green, and it stood stark against Chase's pale skin, like every other mark he had seen on it. He wrapped his fingers around the slender wrist, matching them to the bruise. `Why the hell didn't you say anything?' he forced out angrily.

`I didn't notice,' Chase whispered.

`What!' he spat back.

Chase shook his head, trying to clear it, `I didn't notice the pain.'

`You're not telling me...' House began incredulously

`I didn't notice,' Chase whispered again, before taking a look at House, and fleeing.

* * * *

`So,' House said, sitting down beside Wilson in the cafeteria, `you may have been right.' When James blinked at him disbelievingly, he scowled. `Don't let it go to your head.'

`Not much chance of that,' Wilson muttered. `So, what was I right about?'

`Chase.'

`What did you do?' Wilson asked, eyes widening in concern.

`Now what makes you think I'm the problem?'

`What did you do?' Wilson repeated. Then, giving House a long look, `You slept with him!'

`James, friends normally ask before blowing their friend's carefully maintained reputation for heterosexuality.'

Wilson took a quick look around the cafeteria. `They all think you're pining after me anyway. This way they'll just think maybe it goes two ways and I'm jealous.'

`I don't pine.'

`Distraction isn't going to work, Greg.' Wilson lowered his voice. `You slept with Chase. I specifically told you...'

`I'm pretty sure I would have remembered if the words, "Don't sleep with Chase" had ever crossed your lips.'

`I thought it was implied! He's just out of an abusive relationship, and now you're letting him plunge headlong into one with...'

`We're not in a relationship,' House interrupted.

`So you just fucked him and left.'

`Language, Jimmy,' House admonished mockingly. `And it was my apartment, so he left. Plus, I thought me and Chase together was a "bad thing"?'

`Better than a one night stand. He likes you.'

`I know he likes me. Or do you think I'm so innocent that his putting his lips on mine would be a complete mystery to me? And, on that note, he did start it.'

`So what, you just rolled over and let it happen? You can't seriously be trying to say that you're the wronged party here. He's been pining after you since you hired him.'

`Now, Chase I can see pining. And I know.'

`And knowing this you still...' Wilson asked in disbelief

`At the time, it seemed like a good idea.'

`So did Communism!'

`Any doctrine that relies on the good nature of the majority of humanity is a bad idea from the start,' House objected.

`Whereas a plan that relied on you being able to have casual sex with one of your employees had a good chance of success?'

`It wasn't...'

`Wasn't what?'

`He was in a bar,' House explained bitterly, `trying to pick up another... I brought him back. I needed to do something to stop him from doing it again. So you can keep your sanctimonious attitude, Jimmy - I made a decision.'

`We're back to "I don't hit him"?' Wilson asked. `Can I remind you that you also said you weren't taking him home to ravish?'

`I didn't. I took him home, fed him, and made him get some sleep. Then he decides to test my resolve by seeing if I'd save him from abuser number two! I stopped him before that. He's safe this morning, because I slept with him last night. Fit that into the model you're happily building of me as abuser number three.'

`And that was the best way to do it?'

House sighed harshly and stared James down. His eyes dropped first, sighing. `I said you may have been right. What more do you want?'

`What are you going to do about it?'

`I'll think about it.'

* * * *

He had all day to think about it, because Chase found something to occupy himself in the lab and disappeared for hours.

When he finally found his wayward charge, it was nearly midnight. House leaned forward on his cane, peering at Chase. `Shouldn't you be somewhere not here?'

`I'm on call in the ICU in five minutes.'

`Has there been a mass cull of intensivists, or why else are they resorting to doctors who have already worked ten hours today?'

`I volunteered.'

House restrained himself from the instinctive masochist joke, and instead asked, `Why?'

Chase looked up to meet his eyes, and for the first time in so long, they were calm and clear. `I don't want to go home. You were right.'

`Twas ever thus,' House answered sagely, `What about?'

`If I go home, I might... do something I'll regret. And it isn't fair to ask you to watch me the whole time. It isn't healthy.'

`And over-working yourself is?'

`If I'm working, I'm not...'

`Thinking.'

Chase almost smiled. `I hope I'm still thinking or I won't be much good in the ICU. But I won't be thinking about... other things. If I can get myself tired enough to sleep, then I'll be fine when I go home. It's just a stop-gap.'

`Until what?'

`Until I can be on my own without feeling wrong in my skin?'

The raw honesty surprised House. `Newsflash, Robert. No one feels right in their own skin. That's just one of those pleasant constants of being human - the existential angst.'

`You know what I mean.'

House nodded briefly. `Don't work too long. Real work - that is, the work you do for me - starts at nine.'

`I know. Night.'

`Goodnight, Chase.'

* * * *

`Did you try drinking your way to sleep?' House asked, once again finding Chase staying late in the office.

`I don't think that'd be a good precedent to set,' Chase answered tightly.

Of course - mommy the wino. Chase was probably right. `How do you know I meant alcohol?' House asked. `I thought cocoa and marshmallows was your insomnia cure of choice.'

It shouldn't be so easy to charm a smile out of Chase, but still Chase graced him with that soft look that recently made him feel just a little guilty. `I forgot.'

`You're staying here tonight?'

`Yeah.'

`Here,' House handed him a key. `The couch in the office is more comfortable than the bed in the ICU. Just don't mess with my stuff.'

Chase smirked, `I promise I won't touch your porn and video games.'

`See that you don't.'

`Night.'

`Goodnight, Chase.'

* * * *

`We're now at the point where you actually owning a bed in your apartment is a mystery to me.'

`House...'

`It's been three weeks, Chase. Have you slept more than two hours in your own bed at any time during this period?'

`What do you suggest?'

`You could...'

`No.'

`You don't know what I was going to say.'

`You've checked which time I've signed out every day for three weeks. I know what you were going to say.'

`At least you might sleep.'

`I sleep fine here.'

`On a couch in my office.'

`Better than a couch in your apartment. Or your bed.'

That was the first time Chase had indicated that he actually remembered anything of their night together bar the argument the next morning.

`I'm not sure why you decided to rescue me,' Chase began. He frowned when House made a disbelieving noise. `Not why you thought I needed to be rescued. Why you decided to do it yourself.'

House thought about it. Because you wouldn't do it yourself. Because you didn't ask. Because you didn't want me to. In the end, he shrugged.

Chase nodded as if he understood. `But I know you didn't want to. You didn't want to sleep with me either. And you don't really want me to come home with you. So thanks, but I need to do it myself.'

`By never sleeping in your apartment?'

`By proving to myself that I can be on my own.'

`People generally don't cope on their own. That's why they spend so much time being... pleasant to each other for no reason. So they can make someone else stick around and convince themselves that their existence has some meaning beyond "Dad was horny and Mom was drunk".'

`I don't want to need your help. The next time you ask me home, I want it to be because you want me to be with you, not just because you're afraid of me being with someone else.'

`Chase...'

`Night.'

`Goodnight, Chase.'

Chapter 8

`The dad didn't lay a finger on that kid.'

`Broken bones. Claims he fell over. Breakages too severe for that. We've run many, many tests, Chase. If he's not getting hit by someone, he has some disease so obscure even I can't figure it out, and that's a prospect I wouldn't like to entertain. Personally I prefer to believe he's lying.'

`Better for the kid too,' Foreman observed, `Abusive dad is easier to remove than whatever the hell bizarre disease Chase is about to suggest.'

`I'm not saying he's not getting hit,' Chase responded sharply. `I'm saying it's not the dad. Look at them.'

The four of them looked through the window at their patient and his father.

`People...'

`Lie,' Chase interrupted. `I know. But I'm telling you, it's not the dad. He's easier around his dad than I ever was with mine, and Dad never so much as slapped me.'

`Doesn't mean much,' House said. `Oedipus had a better relationship with his pops than you did.'

`Give me a minute with him,' Chase asked.

* * * *

House stood at the doorway with Cameron and Foreman when Chase went into the room. They held back, but left the door open a crack.

`Hi, Jamie,' Chase said quietly.

The sixteen year old turned his head to smile at Chase. `Dr. Chase.'

`How are you feeling?'

`Fine. I keep telling you, it was just a bad fall. Unlucky break.' He grinned at the pun.

`I brought something for you.'

`Yeah?'

Chase nodded as he dropped a pile of leaflets on the bed.

Jamie's voice was tight as he lifted one up and waved it at Chase. `What the hell? "Getting out and staying out?" - this is for women getting beaten up by their boyfriends. I fell. Why would you even...?'

`A friend of mine gave me those,' Chase answered simply. `I told him that I had fallen too. He didn't believe me. He was right not to.'

`Because what, your ninety-pound girlfriend beat you up?' Jamie asked, looking pointedly at Cameron through the glass.

`Uh...no,' Chase corrected. `My three-hundred pound boyfriend.'

House heard Cameron's sharp intake of breath. He didn't need to look at her to know that her hand was over her mouth. He looked at Foreman instead, to see his quieter form of shock.

House looked back in at Chase, unsure why he had chosen this way to reveal his big secret. He knew they were listening.

Jamie was looking at his hands on the bed. `Were you a kid? I mean, was it your dad or something and you just want me to think...'

`No,' Chase answered. `It was my boyfriend, and it stopped about two months ago.'

`You're just trying to get me to talk.'

`Nope,' Chase said. `But if you want to, I'm not going anywhere.' Chase stretched his arms up with a sigh, ostensibly getting comfortable and giving Jamie a moment to collect himself. But House would be damned if Chase wasn't better at this than any of them had given him credit for. As he stretched, his shirt sleeves rolled down his wrists to reveal the patches of healing bruises up his arms.

`He's on the football team,' Jamie whispered. `He's not...not gay, you know? But...'

`But he likes what can get from you.'

`It didn't start like that. I thought we were both just new at it. So I didn't care that it was secret, or even that it hurt, not at the beginning, I mean - they tell you that it hurts to start with, and it's not like I was going to complain...'

`But he liked it when you hurt. He liked it when you yelled or when you screamed.'

`He...he got rough. Not just rough like when guys mess around, but rough, rough.'

`And you ended up with fractures.'

`I didn't notice until I got home.'

`You were used to it hurting.' Chase's voice was more knowing than it had any right to be.

`Yeah,' Jamie admitted softly. `So I just told Dad I had fallen down the stairs. But then they did some x-rays and it turned out that there was more than one break. And I couldn't...'

`It's okay. I get it. I'm just glad we know you're not sick.'

`You can tell them to let me out?'

`Yeah. But Jamie, you're going to have to tell your dad something. He's really worried about you.'

`You wouldn't...'

`No, of course I wouldn't. But we need to tell him something. And you'll need to get help. That's why I brought the leaflets. A lot of help-lines only get calls from men if they're the one doing the hitting. They don't know how to deal with a guy who needs help to get out. But these do. You need to stop it before you get really badly hurt.

`Did you... do you mind me asking... how did you do it?'

Chase sighed, and looked thoughtful. `Why do you stay with him?'

`Umm...' Jamie started, looking confused, `I guess I couldn't believe that he was even interested. He's a football player, and all the girls like him, and he was with me. I thought he would beat me up, or tell the whole school or something when he caught me looking at him, but he just...'

`It was like he loved you. Like it didn't matter how screwed up you were, because he cared enough to stick around. And the world made more sense for a little while, because someone else was in charge of it. And by the time you realised what was happening, you had stopped being able to tell the difference between kissing and bleeding.'

Jamie's eyes were wide. `So how did you stop?'

Chase smiled, looking down. His voice was calm and clear. `You saw my boss? Dr. House, the grumpy one with the limp.' He waved his hand in a way that was presumably meant to indicate a cane. `He found out. He's the best diagnostician in the country, so that's not much of a surprise. But... he was scared. I've never seen him scared before, and he was scared for me. It hadn't... there's just me. My mum and dad are gone, and I've got no brothers or sisters. No one that would care. I hadn't thought that there was anyone that would care if ... Let alone him. But he was scared for me, and I didn't want to do that. I couldn't do that. So,' he sighed and the trance was broken, `I have days when I want to go back, but most days I'm okay. Because there are always people that care about us, and we don't repay that by letting ourselves get hurt.'

`Can you... if I tell my dad, will you stay?'

`Sure,' Chase answered. He walked past them out of the room, not saying a word. When he brought Jamie's dad back into the room, he stayed beside the teenager. He curled one hand over the thin shoulder, lending the strength few people even realised he had.

* * * *

Chase suffered their scrutiny with good grace. He smiled at Cameron's hesitant inquiries, and doled out information in small doses. He tolerated Foreman's repeated checks that he was going straight home, and went to bars with them when they asked. And he never mentioned House's continual watching, or the calls to check where he was that masqueraded as medical consults.

* * * *

It had been three weeks since he had let his secret slip, and they were nearly getting to the point where they no longer watched themselves so carefully.

`Scat,' House instructed. He tapped Chase on the cheek with his cane to get him to leave the seat. Chase was given frequent reminders that this chair was House's chair but every time House came into the office, there he was.

`I'm not a dog, you know,' Chase observed mildly, hopping out of the chair to perch on the desk.

`Oh, you love it really,' House answered on reflex.

`Yup,' Chase said, `being treated like a pet while my boss knocks me out is my idea of a fun working environment.'

If Chase hadn't been laughing, House might have thought harder before speaking. `If you think that was me knocking you out, clearly I haven't been hitting you hard enough.' It was a testament to how much of a screw-up that statement was that House, who took back nothing, would have rewound those last few seconds had he been able to.

He looked around to meet Cameron's watery betrayed look, and Foreman's angry one. The two of them edged closer to Chase, silent between them. When Chase looked at him, there was no malice, but a little rueful acknowledgment. Foreman and Cameron still looked ready to punch him. Well, at least this had brought his ducklings together.

House walked to the side of the room and busied himself at the kettle, not speaking. Minutes later, he walked back with two red mugs, one for himself, and one for Chase. `You two can make your own,' he snapped, while Chase looked at him in confusion.

A split-second later he was feeling the full force of one of Chase's head-down, half-there grins. The blonde head dipped down at the cup pointedly, and then up again to look at House. Cocoa and marshmallows.

* * * *

`Dr Chase?' A nurse poked her head through the door. `There's a man waiting for you in reception. Tom Woods?'

Even from the office, House could see Chase stiffen. `Tell him to leave, please.'

`We tried. He says he has to see you, that it's important. He said...' she trailed off hesitantly. Idiot. They were trained to call security, but she had obviously decided that this was some kind of lover's tiff.

`I'll be right down,' Chase answered, sighing.

`Should you be doing that?' Foreman asked, recognising the name. A good question.

`I'm not going to...' Chase replied.

`I believe you, but I still think you should just call the police.'

`I need to see him.' Now Foreman was looking tense. Chase tried to placate him, `If I'm not back in five minutes, you can come down and rescue me, okay?'

`Sure.'

`And...' Chase was halfway out the door when he went back and knelt beside Foreman at the table. He leaned in, speaking urgently. `Tell House I didn't call him,' Chase pleaded, gripping Foreman's arm. `Tell him...'

`I got it, man,' Foreman said, `I'll tell him, I promise.'

* * * *

`Tom.'

If Chase had expected House to bother waiting five minutes to come and find him, he was sorely mistaken. And as House had the sense to wait ten seconds for the elevator rather than running helter-skelter for the stairs, he made it there only a few seconds after Chase.

`Rob...' Tom answered, swaying drunkenly.

That was all Chase was going to allow him to say. `If you come one step closer, I'm calling the police.'

`And tell them what?' Tom asked, sneering. `Gonna call 911 and tell them that your big bad boyfriend came to pick you up after work? Or is Greg still riding you too hard to come home early?' He made a gesture showing his disbelief that their work was purely medical.

House's hand tightened on his cane.

Chase blushed, just a little. `Classy, Tom. You're not making this very difficult.' He took out his cell. `Leave, now, and I won't be calling the police to report you for domestic abuse.'

And Chase hadn't said those words before, but they came from his mouth as if this was a conversation he'd had in his head many times. When Tom stepped forward, face getting redder, Chase lifted the cell phone and dialed.

The next three things happened within a few seconds - Chase started speaking, Tom took a swing at him, and Chase took one back. By the time security arrived, Chase was on the ground clutching his ankle from an awkward fall, but Tom was bleeding from the mouth after Chase's one good hit. Tom was dragged away and House walked over to Chase. He didn't know whether his looming was protective or disapproving, but he didn't leave. Chase's harsh intakes of breath were the only sounds.

Chapter 9

`Come home with me.'

* * * *

One week ago

`Your hair is inexplicable.' House muttered, looking down at the top of Chase's head.

`What?' Chase asked, looking over his shoulder.

House leaned over and pulled Chase's bangs away from his face. `No doctor has hair like this.'

`Yeah,' Chase drawled, `I've been meaning to tell you my medical degree's a forgery. The time never seemed right to bring it up.'

He dropped the hair back against Chase's cheek, brushing the skin lightly. `It's a hygiene risk! What do you do in surgery?'

`Same as everyone else,' Chase said, a little offended now. `Put it under a cap.' He looked back down at the patient's file, hair falling in front of his eyes.

`This only proves my point,' House said.

`What?'

`This,' House answered, pulling Chase's hair back again. `You can't even read a file.'

`You're the only one having a problem with it,' Chase said, looking both amused and bewildered by House's persistence.

Chase had turned round to face House fully, head tilted up to look at him. House framed his face, pushing the hair back carefully. He looked down at the slight smile Chase was wearing. Gently, and without letting go of the bangs, he brushed a kiss against the curve of Chase's lips. `No problem,' he said, pulling his hands back.

When Chase leaned back down towards the file, his hair almost, but not quite, veiled the finger he reached to touch his lips.

* * * *

He looked up, startled, `Excuse me?'

* * * *

Three weeks ago

This was the second patient in a week they looked like losing. He hadn't lost one in months, and now two at once. If he was superstitious he might have suspected divine retribution.

House looked over at Chase, whose blond head was bent over a book. Chase probably believed in divine retribution. Lapsed Catholics tended to think that God could punish them long after they lost the belief that he would answer their prayers. As if he suspected he was being observed, Chase hid his yawn, badly, behind his hand. The yawn was as contagious as any virus, and House watched Cameron and Foreman respond in kind.

House tried to stand, his leg protesting vigorously. That was another piece of fun to factor into his week. The Vicodin was just barely taking the edge off at the moment. He misjudged the step, and grasped the desk to balance himself, swearing as inventively as he could manage through gritted teeth.

Chase was looking up now, concern quickly masked by professional curiosity. `Vicodin not kicked in?'

`Well, it's only been an hour, Chase, I wouldn't like to say,' he said, `After all, it hasn't had any more effect than an aspirin for the past week, but this might just be the hour that the pills magically figure out how to re-grow the muscles in my leg and we can all go dancing.'

`Just asking,' he said, looking back at his book. He yawned again, and darted one more troubled look at House.

`Okay, go home,' House said definitely.

All three of his fellows looked at him in shock.

`I'm tired,' House said,

`But...' Cameron waved the patient's file at him.

`Do any of you genuinely believe that the answer is going to jump from those books into your heads when you fall asleep on them? No? Then you might as well sleep in bed. If we're lucky, when we come back tomorrow she'll have developed a new symptom, or she'll be dead. Either way - easier to deal with.'

It was a sign of how tired Cameron was that she barely looked upset at that remark.

`Chase,' House said.

`Yeah?'

`Come here.'

Chase walked up to him, looking confused. He didn't bother to answer the question in the blue eyes, just placed his hand on Chase's shoulder and gripped hard. `Aim towards the car park.'

`What?'

`Do you have some particular desire to come in tomorrow morning and find me in a twisted heap outside the office?'

`No?'

`That wasn't the most convincing denial of a desire for my death I've ever heard. Not the least either, I'll grant, but still.'

`You want...'

`Think of it as giving balance a hand.'

Chase's head turned so quickly it was a miracle he didn't pull them both over. He gave House a questioning look, as if the reference might have been accidental. Then, ignoring Cameron's astonishment and Foreman's curiosity, he helped House walk out of the office.

* * * *

`It's late. We can't do anything else until the tests are back.'

`That would explain why I should go home. Why should I go home with you?'

* * * *

Three and a half weeks ago

`Don't you ever get tired?' Chase asked, a sting in the question that was almost annoyance.

`Of being right? Never.'

`Of...' Chase made a gesture that was probably meant to encompass House and all the inexplicable things about him, but ended up just looking vaguely lewd. House wasn't entirely sure whether that was an after-effect of having slept with Chase and therefore just in his mind, or whether Chase's subconscious was putting out without his realising.

He refocused. `Yes, that was explanatory, Dr. Chase, thank you.'

`You know what I mean.'

`Unfortunately my psychic powers are acting up today, come back tomorrow.'

`You never let anyone get...'

`Yours, however, seem to be fine, because you're clearly channelling Cameron. Or possibly my mother. Which is actually scarier.'

`See!' he said, and at least that was different. Cameron generally didn't tend to yelp like that.

`See what?' House asked.

`You do one nice thing, and then you spend the next three weeks trying to make sure everyone knows you didn't mean it!'

`I'll have you know I've done more than one nice thing for you. It must be at least five.'

`And I'm sure you've put in the four months undoing it!'

He just looked at Chase. `Three weeks by five things is fifteen weeks. That's only three months and three weeks. Also, I'm pretty sure I did my first nice thing more than four months ago.'

Chase looked vaguely stricken. `That's not what I meant. I mean... you know I appreciate what you did. More than that. But if you would just...

`Just what?' House asked, still bothered by the comment in a distant kind of way.

`Balance,' Chase said. `I remember what you said after he... but sometimes balance needs help. What you said is only true if you actually let me... Today we lost a patient, which is obviously bothering you, but you're just making jokes about the autopsy proving you right. Can you just let me pretend that maybe I can help you too?'

`You want me to cry on your shoulder?'

`You even managed to drive Wilson off,' Chase said.

`And obviously I should be upset about that too? According to your little theory.'

`Forget it,' Chase muttered, stalking out of the office.

* * * *

`It's been three months since he was here.'

`This is true. And?'

* * * *

Four weeks ago

`Wilson told me he's speaking at the trial.'

`Yeah.'

`I could have done that.'

Chase looked surprised. `I know. You would have complained the whole time, but I know you would have done it.'

`Is this part of your whole "this isn't healthy for either of us" kick?'

Chase shrugged awkwardly, and put his hands in his pocket.

`Are you going to quit?'

Looking over sharply, Chase asked, `Do you want me to?'

`If I wanted you gone, I'd fire you. No one's forcing me to keep you this time.'

`Yeah, but torturing me into quitting would be more fun.'

House nodded, conceding the point. `Probably. But that's not what we're doing today. So I ask again: are you going to quit? Since we can't seem to work together. Which bothers you more, Chase - that we slept together, or that you have to work with me?'

Chase leaned against the wall, and looked over to meet House's eyes. He smiled ruefully. `Difficult as this will be for you to believe, wrong on both counts. I started the first one. And the second part... I don't care that you own me.'

`I didn't say that,' House retorted.

`You have before.'

`You shouldn't,' House said, not bothering to explain why the language bothered him on Chase's tongue.

`I told you - I don't care. You own me, Cameron, and Foreman.' He grinned teasingly, `And Wilson owns you.'

House sputtered. `Wilson doesn't own me! Where do you get these... I don't work for him!'

`No, you work for Dr. Cuddy, and you don't do anything she says.'

`I don't do anything Wilson says either.'

`You started taking cases again because he asked you. We hadn't done anything for months before he made you do it.'

`He didn't make me do anything. I was bored. Or he tricked me, I can't remember. And even if it was because he asked, one incident doesn't prove anything. Or have we started diagnosing all headaches as inoperable cancer of the brain without me noticing?'

`He makes you feel guilty,' Chase said. `There isn't anyone else's job you would even have thought about making that speech to save.'

`I didn't make the speech,' House said defiantly.

`But you felt bad about it. It's like...'

`You and Vogler,' House filled in.

`Yeah,' Chase answered uncomfortably. `Something like that anyway.'

`Do you want me to point out the flaws in that argument, or am I just supposed to accept it?'

`Of course, you were doing it in a desire to protect your integrity, and I was just saving my job,' Chase said sarcastically.

`Are you trying to tell me that your actions were motivated by something other than self-interest? It's not an accusation, Chase - everyone and everything is selfish. What makes humans so fascinating is that we try to hide it.'

Chase folded his arms in front of his chest uncomfortably. `I couldn't rely on you to save my job, so I went to someone else.'

There was something familiar in the way Chase said that. Something reminiscent of another conversation they'd had in this office. "I loved him until I figured out it hurts a lot less to just not care." No expectations, no disappointments. He hadn't believed Chase then either.

`I can't decide whether it was a pre-emptive strike, or yet more evidence of your masochism,' he said thoughtfully, trying to provoke a response. `Did you think I was going to fire you, or did you know that I couldn't fire you after that because torturing you was more interesting?'

`Do you ever have a normal conversation?' Chase asked in exasperation. `One where you don't dive into the other person's psyche? Maybe about the weather. Or sports.'

`Only with very boring people,' he replied, and if Chase couldn't take that as a compliment, then they really wouldn't work out.

Chase sighed and left the office, but he seemed more resigned than angry or confused.

* * * *

`And what?'

`You think this means everything's all better now?'

* * * *

Two months ago

`Are we going to be done anytime soon?' Chase asked.

`Why?' House answered suspiciously. `Hot date?' He looked at Chase properly for the first time that day, and took in the subtly matching clothes. `You're kidding, right?'

`What?'

`You have a date.'

Foreman and Cameron were watching them now, with matching looks of concern.

`I have a date,' Chase agreed. `He's three inches shorter than me, a nurse, and I'm carrying a panic button and pepper spray, but other than that, it's a perfectly normal date.'

`You're dating a male nurse?'

Chase shook his head wearily as House ran into a rant on how people brought stereotypes on themselves.

He only finished when the shift did, and he finally allowed them to leave. On the way out the door, Chase turned to look at him. `My cell phone's on.'

He was tempted, briefly, to ask why Chase thought he should know that, but chose simply to answer, `Mine too.'

* * * *

`No, I don't. But things are getting better.'

`So this is an anniversary celebration. Three months on the wagon?'

`No.'

* * * *

Three months ago

Chase looked at the hand held down to him, and tried to push himself up without it. At House's look, he explained himself. `I don't want to pull you down with me.'

House thought about that for a moment, and then waved his hand at Chase again. `You won't.'

`How do you...'

`Basic biology. It's easier to help someone else up than push yourself up. You don't pull me over now, I won't pull you over on the way to get that ankle looked at.'

`I don't think that's how it works. It's about balance.'

`Balance can work itself out.'

Chase nodded, accepting the almost-reassurance. He took House's hand.

* * * *

Now

`So what is it?'

`Today was nothing special. Nothing happened.'

`Well, we saved a few lives, but maybe that's all in a day's work for you now.'

`I didn't mean that. Nothing happened. No... no traumas, no police, no bruises... no reason for it to happen today.'

`And because there's no particular reason for me to say yes, you thought it was a good time to ask?'

Chase smiled nervously, and repeated himself, `Come home with me.'

House pondered that logic. It was, as usual with Chase, a mixture of elegant simplicity and an utter refusal to do things the easy way. Now, why did that seem familiar? He offered a lopsided smile, and stood up. `Well then, since you asked so nicely...'