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  Jealousy 
 by Titti  

 Sweaty, needy, driving in and out until even the pain from his back
couldn't stop him from coming, bliss overtaking everything until he came
down and the pain was back, his breathing was fast, his heart was
overworked, and his world was back in order, albeit a very unpleasant
order. He pulled off of his lover, mindlessly running his fingers over
Chase's arms. 

"You remember I'm here, right?" House asked sarcastically.

"Your ego wouldn't let me forget, but sometimes things aren't about you."

"Let me guess. This is about you and us and how I didn't buy you anything
for Christmas. Well, Chase, you knew who I was before you got in my bed."

Robert rolled to his side, and glared at House. "I don't give a fuck about
gifts, *Dr.* House. This isn't about you, or me, or us. In fact this
entire relationship isn't about us, but about the one you couldn't have."
Chase laughed sadly. "I heard how you spent your Christmas with Wilson."

"And you spent Christmas with God. You don't see me be all jealous of the
Almighty."

"Only you could say that." Shaking his head, Chase got up and went for his
clothes.

"Oh, stop being like that. Come back to bed."

Robert ignored him, and put his pants on.

"You wouldn't run out on a cripple."

Robert sighed. "Greg, this faux pity doesn't fool anyone."

"I know, but..." House rolled his eyes. "You're such a pain in the ass."
He turned to his side and opened the drawer of his nightstand. He picked a
wrapped box, and rested it on the bed. "Merry Belated Christmas, Robert."

Chase froze. He could count the number of times House had used his first
name on one hand. "Is that for me?" He raised a hand. "Forget I said
anything. I understand the stupidity of the question without your help,
thank you so much."

House chuckled, but his expression turned into a real smile when he saw
Chase lay back in bed. Resting on his stomach, Chase unwrapped the small
box, and then opened it. He reached for the set of keys, and closed his
fingers around them. "For here?"

"No, for the house next door. Of course, for here." House almost touched
Chase's face, but the movement was aborted and his hand fell on the
mattress. "I take it you like this gift." Chase only nodded, and his hair
brushed against House's stomach. "Good, because you're wrong." 

"Of course I am. You've been telling us that since we started working for
you," he said smiling.

"That's because it's always been about us. Now, get those pants off, and
let's get some sleep."

Chase did as he was told, moving as close as he dared, holding his breath
for the sarcastic comment that never came. Chase stole a quick look at the
clock on the nightstand, and smiled. They might not have spent Christmas
together, but the new year was four minutes old, and everyone knew that
the way you spent the first of the year...

"If you believe in old superstitions, I might have to kill you," came the
grouchy voice. Leave it to House to pick up on any movement, no matter how
small. 

Chase raised his head, and grinned. "You can't kill me. You would have to
start looking for a new intensivist, and you hate interviewing people."

House kissed Chase's forehead. "You know me too well." And that was the
best thing that House could tell him.

January 1, 2005  
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the
ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement
nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the
show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.  


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