A/N - At the start of this year, I decided to challenge myself. There's a 160 theme challenge that circulated the fox site, and I had started it a few times, only to let it fizzle out after one or two one-shots. This year, One of my New Years Resolutions was to complete a one-shot a week, until I finished these (and if you do the math, kiddies, I do realize that it will take me over three years to do this, but I'm not going to let that discourage me.). I've complete eight so far, not bad. They're all posted on a different site, but I decided to share them here, too.

While I'm a Huddy, and there are certainly going to be Huddy ficlets represented here, these aren't all going to be Huddy. Many of them are going to about different characters, and possibly different ships. It's just me trying to branch out and do something different. Most of these are going to be very quick. The theme will be the title of the one-shot. I hope you all enjoy them.

Now, on to the first one, written back on new year's day. I hope you enjoy it!

Never Again

Never again, Robert Chase thought as he roused himself from the stupor he had drank himself into the previous night. His limbs felt heavy, and his tongue felt fuzzy and heavy. His eyelids felt like someone had glued them together. "Never again,"he groaned aloud, forcing his thick tongue to move, to make sure it could. He forced open his eyes, immediately shutting them at the bright light that suddenly came bursting through the formerly drawn curtains. He heard someone whistle as they moved around his condo, and he suddenly sat up, all the blood rushing to his head, and a wave of thick nausea washing through him.

"Good morning, sunshine," came a voice from the living room. A familiar, mocking voice. Chase started to get up, only to realize he was naked, so he wrapped the sheet around his waist, and he stumbled out of bed. Not his bed, he realized, belatedly. He staggered to a halt, looking around the unfamiliar room, with its heavy, dark furniture and clothes haphazardly thrown here and there. There were no picture on the walls, just heavy book shelves lined with textbooks. One hand still clenched the sheet tightly, while the other hand ran through his disheveled hair. He blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings, and wondering just what the hell happened the previous night.

He hadn't realized he had spoken out loud when a head poked through the door to the bedroom.

"Good, you're up." His boss, Greg House greeted him with a mocking cheerfulness. Then, the face disappeared, leaving the door somewhat open.

"Up, is a relative term," he mumbled, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks. "How the hell did I wind up here?" he asked still in shock, and wondering if this was a dream. Or, rather, a nightmare.

"I thought myself and Thirteen had the trademark on downward spirals, but I think you're gonna beat us both, now." House informed him, still unbearably cheerful, just to mock him that much more. "As far as being naked," he informed Chase, "we found your clothes in the dumpster in the back of the bar about a block away where we found you, face down in the snow." House's tone became much more sober.

"We?" Chase asked, focusing on the least important aspect of the information he had been given.

"Cuddy 'n' me," House informed him. "We were coming home from New Year's, and she spotted your car, but not you." He came back into the bedroom where Chase stood, and handed him his clothes, now freshly laundered. "I tried to call you, and when you didn't answer, Cuddy got worried, so thank her, for saving your sorry ass." He left the room, letting Chase dress while pondering his words.

"Saving me?" Had he had that much to drink? He frowned, trying to remember what he had done the previous night, New Year's Eve. He was supposed to meet a particularly buxom blond he had met at a restaurant a few days before, determined to spend the night with someone, not wanting to be alone. The woman...he couldn't remember her name, had the same eye-color as Allison... His stomach revolted, and he rushed to the bathroom, retching into the toilet, emptying the meager contents of his stomach.

Once he was done, and he had rinsed the foul contents of his mouth away in the sink, he pulled on his jeans, and staggered out to the living room, where his boss' girlfriend, and the Chief Adminstrator of the hospital was perched on the couch, her dark smudged eyes were watching him carefully. "Good morning, Chase," she greeted him. She looked like she hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. "How are you feeling."

"Like Jose and Jack had a brawl in his stomach, I bet," House chortled from the kitchen. "And, from the looks of it, Chase lost." He came out in an apron, and he handed Chase a glass full of murky contents that reminded him of what he had just expelled from his belly. House must have noticed the look on his face, because he informed him, "my patented hangover cure. Trust me, I've had more than enough practice at perfecting it. It tastes like crap, so it's best if you just hold your nose and gulp." At Chase's grimace, he grinned. "And it's best not to ask me what's in it until tomorrow."

Chase gave him a dirty look, then held his nose and gulped the entire thing down. House had been right; it did taste like rancid garbage, and he thought he was going to immediately retch it up, but he stoically tried to hold it down. His head throbbed, and now, his stomach and chest hurt from being sick. He slumped down at the other end of House's couch, just trying to drown out the world.

"You gotta thank Lisa," House informed him. "She's the one who washed your clothes for you." House turned before he got a response, heading back into the kitchen.

"Chase," Cuddy said softly. "What were you thinking, last night? Drinking that much." She brushed a strand of dark hair out of her eyes, giving him a reproving glance. "You could have died."

He glared at her. "Maybe I wanted to," he gulped out, guilt and whatever the hell House had just given him churning in his belly. "Maybe, I just wanted the pain to end."

Her jaw dropped with surprise, but House brought him out a cup of coffee. Black, rich and strong, he sipped at it. House also handed Cuddy a cup, before he himself settled in the chair near them. "Pain, can make us do stupid things," he said, sipping at his own cup, those clear blue eyes staring knowingly at Chase. "You should talk to someone," he informed the younger doctor.

"I don't want to talk to someone," Chase pouted, sounding like a petulant child. House half expected him to cross his arms across his chest, but the young man just stared at his coffee.

"You were half naked in a snow drift," Cuddy told him gently. "You could have died," she repeated. "Whatever's bothering you, you need to get some professional help." She exchanged a knowing glance with House. "Before you do die, or do something that you'll regret."

"Just because he went crazy doesn't mean I will!" Chase shot back, angry at being ganged up on. He felt sick and cornered, and he was lashing out, trying to escape.

"I can't force you into anything," House told him, but he jutted his chin at Cuddy, "but she can."

Chase stared at him with wide blue-green eyes, daring either of them to say something. "Just because you don't like my lifestyle."

"I've lived your lifestyle," House snorted. "For most of my adult life. Different girl every night, drinking yourself into a stupor just so you can sleep. Trashing your relationships, jobs, and liver. Yeah, it was great times, and look where that led." He finished his coffee. "Trust me," he said, setting the cup down on his coffee table, keeping his eyes on Chase. "It's overrated."

"I want you to get some help," Cuddy informed him.

"It was just a one-time thing," Chase scoffed. "It was New Year's, and I overindulged, something we all do. It doesn't affect my job. I had today off, and I'll be in on-time tomorrow." He gave them both a nervous smile. "Trust me, I'll be fine. I'll be more careful in the future." He put his own mug down on the table. "Now, give me my keys, and I'll go home, and stay out of trouble, okay?"

Cuddy chewed on her bottom lip, but House nodded. "Okay," he said, indifferent. He went into the kitchen, and he brough Chase's effects out. "Want me to call you a cab?"

Chase plucked out his own mobile phone. "Can do it myself, dad," he snarked, then headed back into House's bedroom to get his shirt and jacket. He dressed angrily, not noticing he didn't have any socks or shoes. He rang up the cab company, worrying about his car later, when he could sit down and remember what bars he went to last night. He didn't have a problem, he told himself. It was just an eventful New Year's. Something that wouldn't happen again.

Never again, he reminded himself as he climbed into the cab, leaving the judgmental eyes of his boss' behind him.

So, that night, he was sitting at the bar, flirting with a pretty brunette with warm, milk chocolate eyes, telling himself, as he took a drink of his gin and tonic, never again.

[End]