Author's Notes: I felt the craving for a House/Chase story while I was working... and I wasn't feeling good at the time, so the idea popped into my head. This isn't slash, but it could be considered preslash. However you want to take it. Enjoy!

I Came, I Saw, I Tripped

Today was Robert Chase's first day of work.

Robert Calvin Chase, House reminded himself. His brand new, straight-off-the-shelf fellow that Cuddy had forced him to hire. House wasn't sure if he should be upset that Cuddy had finally forced him to do something that resembled work, or happy that he now had someone to do all of his grunt work. He had decided that the decision would be made after he met this Robert Calvin Chase.

And therein lied the problem—Robert Calvin Chase was not here.

It was true that he still had another ten minutes to spare before he had to be in House's office, but most of the other suck ups that he'd met liked to make good impressions by showing up a few hours early... House didn't make much of first impressions. Maybe this kid knew that and was planning on showing up late. That wouldn't do either; if he arrived late, House was going to chew him out like a rabid dog.

But he needn't have worried, because when he looked up, Robert Calvin Chase was stepping into his office. Actually, he was stumbling into his office, tripping on the door frame and then using one of House's bookcases to support himself. Shaggy blonde hair flopped about as his head bobbed up and down, face out of sight.

"Are you drunk?" House asked him, staring at the mess that was his new fellow.

"No..." Robert mumbled, tripping over something that didn't exist. "Cold..."

"You're cold?" Maybe he could talk Cuddy into letting him choose a different fellow.

Robert looked up at him, revealing bloodshot blue eyes and a flushed, sweaty face. He shook his head faintly.

"You're sick," House determined, standing up and leaving his desk.

"It's my... my firs' day..." Robert said, almost incoherently. He didn't even seem to notice when House put a hand to his forehead. "Can' be late..."

"God forbid," House muttered.

"I need..." Robert stopped speaking and closed his eyes, clutching his stomach. His head began choking forward, and House recognized the telltale signs immediately. Just in time, he grabbed the garbage can and shoved it before Robert, and he began to vomit.

"What you need is a garbage can," House told him, trying not to wince as he felt a spray of upchuck wet the hand that was holding the trashcan. "And some common sense. What, do you want to get your boss sick?"

Robert shook his head. "No... not good..." He raised his head once more and looked in House's general direction, eyes unfocused. "I needa fin'... fin' my boss. You know 'im?"

With a disgusted look, House set the trashcan down on the floor and helped Robert over to his office couch. He would have to camp out in here, because there was no way House was going to drive him all the way back home. "So why do you come into work, unable to work?"

"I... work," Robert tried to insist as he laid down on the couch. The effect was immediate—his whole body relaxed and the tension left his face. "You know 'im?"

"Know who?" House asked, leaving Robert in search of a blanket, or something similar.

"M'boss," Robert said, sounding sleepily annoyed. "They said he was a... a right bastard."

House couldn't suppress a grin. "Did they?" he asked. In the absence of a blanket, he settled for his jacket and draped it over Robert.

"Yeah... narcissistic..." He was stopped again by a hacking cough, which seemed to rip through his whole body. "Misanthrope," he finished in a voice so soft that it was almost a whisper.

House watched as Robert's eyes finally shut and his head relaxed against the arm of the couch.

"So why did you want to work with me?" he asked, not expecting an answer because Robert was obviously already asleep. For a moment, he stared at him, wondering what had been going through the blonde's head when he'd decided to come to work... he was either really stupid or really stubborn.

"I heard he was pretty," Robert suddenly mumbled, his lips barely moving, and House stared. "Nice blue eyes... deep voice..."

House's decided that he was going to keep Robert around as long as he possibly could, no matter how stupid or stubborn or sick he was. Out of all the fellows he'd had to choose from, it had been his luck that he had picked the gay one.

Oh, yes.

This was going to be fun.