Author's Note: No lie - I'm fascinated by the character of Stacy Warner and especially with the relationship she and House share, both in the CanonVerse and in the CollarVerse AU. As interesting as it is to puzzle out how two irascible, independent people can have a relationship as they did in the CanonVerse, I've found it even more interesting to think about how the circumstances of the CollarVerse would affect not just the relationship, but the many personalities that push and pull these interesting people. Here is an exploration of Greg and Stacy's relationship set in an AU to the CollarVerse. How quickly this will be updated remains to be seen, but since it's been percolating for a couple months and I'm still not bored with it, I guess I'm pretty committed to seeing this story through to an end.

At some point, this story will probably have some sexual content. To accommodate this, I've chosen to rate the story M even though it may be some time before any sexual content is reached. Maybe that's something ya'll can look forward to. :)

Thanks to everyone who has supported my writing here on FF. I look forward to continuing to explore the CollarVerse with you.

Disclaimer: Blah blah Fox blah blah. The CollarVerse AU is the creation of oflymonddreams. This story is an AU to the CollarVerse and isn't connected to CollarVerse or CollarVerse AU stories written by anyone else.

No Escape

Chapter One

The two dark haired women regarded each other across the span of a tidy professional desk. The late afternoon sun barely penetrated the blinds drawn across the single window overlooking a small lawn and parking lot beyond. The room was shadowed. Appropriate, Stacy Warner thought. The topic Lisa Cuddy was discussing with her was not a pleasant one.

"And he never said anything about this to you," Cuddy was saying. "You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. But he doesn't exactly go out of his way to tell me everything. You know how he is."

Cuddy held up a hand. "Yes, I know. Fine. You realize that this needs to be reported; there may be questions. Slave Administration is going to have to be involved and considering Greg's worth, there might be an investigation. The hospital's use of Greg is unique and we don't need anyone causing trouble for us; the department of diagnostics has been a great asset for us."

Stacy had heard it all before, so she didn't feel bad cutting Lisa off. "So why can't they just leave it be? We've got everything under control."

"You know as well as I do that it doesn't work like that. Greg's little stunt could end up reflecting badly on you, too."

"I'm not removing the tag."

"I'm not telling you to and you've given me no reason to revoke your tagging privilege. If anything, it's your care and control that's going to get him through this in one piece. Still, Slave Admin might have some questions. It's possible that they'll say you have a conflict of interest, since you're the legal representation of the owner of the slave you've been allowed to tag. If he ends up sanctioned for this escape attempt - and you know he will be - you might get taken down, too. Your career doesn't need a blemish like that, and neither does the hospital."

"I can worry about my own career, Lisa."

"I know you can. Just - be careful."

Stacy sighed. "Can I see Greg now?"

Cuddy rubbed her forehead. "You know this isn't a good idea."

"He's under my care and control; I have a legal right to see him."

"Fine." She picked up the phone to call security. "Just don't expect him to thank you for this."

The sharp, measured sounds her shoes made on the linoleum echoed in the near-empty hallway as Stacy followed the security meathead who was leading her to the basement. She was monstrously angry but she refused to betray a hint of it to anyone. Besides, it was a shitty lawyer who'd crack under emotional pressure and Stacy Warner was not - not - a shitty lawyer. She'd keep her cool. Once she had some answers, then she could lose her temper.

There was no rule saying that she needed to be escorted to the basement. The "Authorized Personnel Only" sign on the door was no barrier; her hospital ID badge gave her authorization to go almost anywhere in the hospital. High security areas like the pharmacy, labor and delivery, the pysch ward, and medically sensitive areas were off limits, but she, like every other free employee of the hospital, technically had authorization to go to the basement. It's just that no one ever wanted to unless they had a good reason to.

Stacy, on the other hand, always had a good reason to stay away. That had changed now.

The stairwell she descended was narrow and chilly. Fluorescent lights from another era gleamed dully off the dark walls. A maintenance hallway, she figured; an easy way to haul slaves off without getting in anyone's way.

The long hallway she was led down was clean; the chemical perfume of caustic cleaners told her that much. It was old, too. Nothing in sight had been renovated since the year she quit playing with dolls. The floor tiles were dingy and worn, the light bulbs were placed high out of reach inside small mesh cages. Everything was quiet. It was late afternoon but the only activity she could detect was a single slave who scuttled off as soon as she caught sight of the free people coming down the hall. The whole place was barren, silent, and steeped in the timeless despair unique to basements. No wonder Greg avoided this level as much as possible. She knew that somewhere there were dorms, a canteen, and a security station because Greg had mentioned them, but just as he avoided the general slave population as much as possible, he didn't talk much about the place that population could be found. It was this place she found herself in now.

The hallway terminated in a lobby. A sleepy looking woman at an administration desk worked dully at some papers as they approached.

"Ms. Warner's here to see the one we've got in lockup," Meathead said. "She's got him tagged."

The night shift clerk regarded Stacy with the look she had seen on so many faces. 'Him?' The look said. 'The troublemaker?' But all she said was, "Second security room. Sorry, but you can't take him anywhere. We had to send a notice to the local slave administration office; we can't do anything until they get back to us."

Stacy's jaw felt tight. "I understand, but I have a legal right to check on him."

"Go ahead. I can give you five minutes."

Another hallway took them to another door. The place was a maze.

Inside, she saw Greg's long pale body curled in on itself inside a large cage on the floor. His back was to her and she could see the scars of past whippings made clear and bright under the glare of the bare bulbs.

The guard pounded on the top of the cage. "Hey! You've got a visitor." Greg flinched but didn't look up.

Now that she was closer, Stacy could see that Greg was tethered by his collar to the side of the cage. Her gut went cold. "Could you give us five minutes?" She was brisk; the quicker the man left, the quicker she could get some answers.

"That's not standard procedure," Meathead said.

"You've got him locked in a cage," Stacy snapped. "What exactly can he do?"

Meathead adjusted his belt and sighed. "Fine. Five minutes."

Stacy glared at the naked slave curled up in the cage. It wasn't long enough for him to stretch out in or tall enough for him to sit up. The man she had shared her life with for the past four years was locked by a leash to metal bars the width of her thumb. A dark voice deep in her heart smirked. He deserved this. Greg deserved this and more for doing something so stupid. Didn't he realize that he wasn't just hurting himself by trying to walk off?

"What the hell were you thinking, House?" She crouched down. "Did you really think you could just walk away? That you wouldn't be caught and hauled back here in chains?"

The slave didn't answer. Greg has his face buried behind his hands.

"Were you trying to prove something? That you're smarter than everyone here, that you can do whatever you want?" Her voice became shrill. "What the hell were you thinking?"

He shook his head, still not looking at her.

Stacy sighed and willed her tone under control. This wasn't helping. Greg – her lover and the person closest to her heart – was in serious trouble and she couldn't do anything to help. Her care and control was contingent upon the hospital's allowance. The legal rights represented by that tag could be removed as quickly as the tag itself.

She sat down on the floor, tucking her expensive shoes under her legs. She reached her fingers through the gaps between the bars, trying to touch the man she loved, but he pulled away.

Stacy sat next to the cage, not saying anything, until the guard returned for her.