A/N: I want to thank all of you who were kind enough to take the time to leave a review, sign up for story alerts or choose this as a favorite. It's always an added bonus to know that others appreciate your work. I hope you also enjoy this final chapter.

******************************************************************************************************************************

It was immediately evident that Chase had become uncomfortable when the topic changed to his family. He shifted in his chair and no longer made eye contact, which only made House more curious as to what the young man was hiding.

"There's not much to tell really," Chase began slowly. "My mum died several years ago so it's just me and my father. He still lives in Melbourne."

"Tell me about him," House said, wanting the son's honest opinion of the well-respected man.

Choosing his words carefully, Chase replied, "He concentrates a great deal on medical research and he's done some writing as well."

House narrowed his eyes and stared at Chase, wondering if he was serious. He hadn't said anything that wasn't already known and didn't even mention the fact that his father was a world renown rheumotologist.

He picked up Chase's resumé which was sitting on his desk and read it completely through for the first time. There was no mention of Rowan Chase.

Well, now it's starting to get interesting, thought House. The kid obviously has daddy issues and yet had no problem asking for his help to get this job. Or did he?

Tossing the paper back on his desk, House couldn't help but ask, "How did you hear about this position?"

"Are you kidding?" Chase asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Every doctor I know is talking about it. This is the most coveted fellowship around."

"Aw-shucks," answered House, doing a bad job of pretending to be modest.

"My boss at New York Presbyterian, Dr. Stewart, suggested that I apply and he was nice enough to offer to make a call on my behalf," Chase explained.

House was surprised to realize that he believed this explanation. This poor sap had absolutely no idea that his own father had not only set up this interview but at the same time had sabotaged it.

Wanting to learn more, House asked, "Who did Stewart call?"

Furrowing his brow, Chase looked slightly confused at this and replied, "Well....I thought he called you but since that's clearly not the case, then it must have been someone pretty important."

"I'll say," House stated. "Probably someone even world renown. You wouldn't happen to know anyone like that, would you?"

Chase appeared vexed by the question until a look of realization came across his face.

Discerning that House knew the truth, Chase grudgingly admitted, "I guess you know who my father is. You could have just said so. You didn't have to screw with me. Was it he who called?"

"Yes," confirmed House, not telling Chase that the call wasn't made directly to him. "Why would he want to hide that from you?"

House watched as a myriad of expressions played across Chase's face. The young man seemed surprised and disconcerted yet somewhat pleased to hear that his father had taken the time to reach out in such a way.

Still stunned by the news, a moment of vulnerability came over Chase and he honestly replied, "I'm not sure. It seems strange that he would do anything to help me get this fellowship considering he never wanted me to leave Australia in the first place. Perhaps after speaking with Dr. Stewart he changed his mind. I guess he didn't tell me because he knew that I never would have asked for his help."

House understood this feeling all too well. He couldn't help but think of the relationship he had with his own father and began to feel an unusual sense of connection with Chase. Unlike House, however, it was apparent that Chase still longed for his father's approval.

"So, what was it like to grow up with a famous father?" House wanted to know.

The mask that usually covered Chase's feelings was firmly back in place when he answered, "It's hard to say really. I wouldn't know what it was like to grow up any other way. Besides, we don't get to decide what our parents are going to be like."

House was impressed with how Chase had learned to answer questions without revealing anything about himself. This made House only want to learn more about him.

"Why did you decide to specialize in intensive care instead of following in your father's footsteps?" he probed.

Taking a deep inhale and exhaling slowing, Chase answered, "When my mum died, I watched as the doctor in the ER tried to save her but couldn't. He did everything he could but it just wasn't enough. Hoping I could make a difference in what could be the final moments of a person's life, I decided then that this was what I wanted to do."

As Chase looked somberly down at the floor, a lock of hair fell over his face making him seem almost childlike.

House, who prided himself on reading people and cutting to their core, considered Chase's comment for a moment.

He then retorted, "That's a load of crap! Do you want to hear what I think?"

Seeing the shock on Chase's face, House didn't wait for his reply and continued, "I think your father is the one who wanted you to become a doctor and you were too afraid to stand up to him and say no. But you also didn't want to be compared to the great Dr. Rowan Chase so you went into a specialty far removed from his. In the same token, as an intensivist, you don't have to personally get to know your patients so there is little risk of revealing too much about yourself. How'm I doin'?"

Chase, extremely angered and insulted by House's remarks, countered defensively, "That's an interesting hypothesis. Almost as if you speak from experience. But in my case, you couldn't be more wrong."

Chase tried his best to exude an appearance of calm, but House could tell by the young man's demeanor that a nerve had been struck.

The phone rang, breaking the hostility that permeated the air. House looked at the Caller ID and, seeing that it was the lab, answered the call.

"This better be good," he barked into the receiver. After listening to Dr. Singer for a moment, House leaned forward in his chair and ordered, "Start her on treatment."

Hanging up, House sat rubbing his chin, pondering what he had just heard.

Interrupting his thoughts, Chase announced, "I was right about the diagnosis, wasn't I?"

"Don't let it go to your head," admonished House. "It was only beginner's luck."

Chase smiled, apparently pleased with himself. Nontheless, he obviously was not accustomed to any recognition for his talent and did not expect it now.

It occurred to House that Robert Chase was a puzzle that could be interesting to solve. He was undeniably extremely intelligent but gave the appearance of being too passive.

Was he afraid of failure or was it something else? Whatever it was, judging from his earlier reaction, the kid obviously took things too easily to heart and could use some toughening up.

With the right person to show him the ropes, Chase had the potential to be a great doctor one day. House, however, had no desire to be a father figure to the kid.

Still, it would certainly make me look good if I give this kid the job, House thought. At the same time, it would probably piss off Rowan Chase which would be an added bonus. Of course, there's no reason to tell him that his dad didn't ask me to give him the job. Hell, it would probably just make him cry and I don't have time to deal with that.

"You're hired," House announced. "Since Dr. Stewart pushed you to apply for this fellowship, then he should be happy that I'm going to give him until the end of the week to replace you," House added. "You can start next Monday."

Chase was not really sure if he was happy to get the position or if he was upset that he got it because his father had once again interfered in his life by calling in a favor.

It also didn't help Chase's self-esteem to believe that he hadn't earned this job on his own merits.

Regardless, he had learned a long time ago to take advantage of a good opportunity so he thanked House and accepted the offer.

With the interview now over, Chase glanced at his watch and then apprehensively looked back at House.

"I know this is a strange request, but would you mind if I stay in here with you for another four minutes?" Chase inquired.

Beginning to think the kid was a little strange and that perhaps he had acted too rashly, House frowned and asked, "Why?"

Chase bit his lip, trying to think of the best way to get what he wanted. He quickly decided that in this case, it was best to make a deal.

"While I was waiting for you this morning, the hospital staff was placing wagers on how long this interview would last," he explained. "They promised to double the pot if I made it past thirty minutes so I took the bet. If you let me stay, then I'll split my winnings with you."

Becoming more pleased with his choice, House smiled appreciatively.

He grabbed a black, round ball from the shelf behind him, shook it and said, "Oh, Magic Eight Ball, are Chase and I going to win this bet?"

Robert Chase smiled broadly, showing his dimples, as House read the answer, "It is decidedly so."

The End.