I'm sorry I haven't been writing. Here's a small chapter...I hope that will get me going again.


Ten minutes later, Chase was sitting in the passenger seat of his employer's car. Every couple of seconds, he shot nervous glances at the other doctor. Finally,

he screwed up enough courage to ask,

"Um...House?"

"Yeah."

"Have you forgotten about the ASL class?" House shot him a look before turning back to the road.

"C'mon, Chase. You know I'm more than interested in my minion's extracurricular activities."

"Funny." Chase muttered, adding, "Well?"

"You're excused for today."

"You called them?"

"No."

Chase sighed, which made House scoff.

"You seem way more eager than yesterday. Looks like I did you a favour after all." The Australian's eyes narrowed.

"Rest assured, you didn't. I'm just not too thrilled at the idea of having to explain my absence next week."

"Relax. It's not the army, and you are not Kurt Albrecht. You won't get shot."

"Who the heck is Kurt – ...oh, never mind." A couple of seconds of silence, and then,

"Thanks for getting me out of it for tonight."

"Sycophant."


"I don't want any popcorn."

"We're sharing. Didn't your mother ever tell you it's nice to share?" Chase rolled his eyes.

"But I don't want any popcorn. You don't have to share stuff you don't want."

"You have to share everything. Except offices. That's what Wilson says. You wanna disagree with Wilson?"

"No...but...I still don't see why we need to get the largest container of popcorn when I don't even want any."

"We should get extra butter." The intensivist sighed. Why did everything always have to be so...insane with House? They had arrived at the head of the queue

and, predictably, Chase didn't have the courage to actually do what he wanted for a change.

"I'd like a size 3 container of sweet popcorn. Extra butter, please. And two large cokes."

"And nachos." House added. Silently, Chase started digging for his wallet.


Three hours later, the Australian and his boss were in the car on their way back home. The film had been a weird Alien movie picked by House. Chase had sat

through it, wide-eyed and fascinated.

"The world must be an amazing place for you believers." House had commented, which caused Chase to blush and mumble some lame excuse. Nonetheless,

the diagnostician had had his fun as well. Mostly due to all that popcorn...and, of course, the aliens. Aliens are just cool. Now, he was sitting beside Chase,

criticizing his driving.

"You should have taken a left there." As they were still cruising around the movie theatre's car-park, this surprised his employee quite a bit.

"Why?" he inquired.

"Scenic route."

"Oh, come on." House didn't answer, but smiled. A couple of seconds, no one said anything. Then, Chase asked,

"Where are we going, anyway?"

"My place."

"But...this is your car."

"So?"

"Well, mine's still at the hospital. How am I supposed to get home from your house?"

"Since when is that my problem?"

"Can't we go to my place first?"

"Nope."

"But...please?"

"Get a cab."

Chase realised exactly how futile his arguing was, and pressed his lips together angrily.


He was already well on his way to his employer's house when he spoke again:

"I'm out of cash. I don't even have any lying around at home, I think."

"Should've planned ahead then."

"You were the one insisting on taking one car. And I – you made me pay for everything. Why do I always have to pay for everything?"

"Wilson does."

"Wilson's a department head. As are you."

"It's good money. You should try it someti – "

But House never finished that particular jab – he was rudely interrupted by a pebble hitting the windshield with a loud crack. Chase jumped, jerking the

steering wheel around but then immediately taking control of the car again. He slowed and pulled over.

"Great." he sighed, studying the hairline crack running across the pane.

"What are you whining about?" House admonished, "This isn't even your car."

"I know, but...how are we gonna get home?"

"Get a grip. I'm the cripple. And it's a mile, at the most."

"...to your place." the Australian muttered darkly.


Shortly after, the two doctors were trudging along the deserted road. House had locked his car and left it standing, deciding the matter would best be dealt

with in the morning. He had ordered Chase to stop sulking, and limped ahead, leaving the intensivist no choice but to follow. Of course, Chase wasn't thrilled to

walk his boss home before setting off on the much longer walk to his own apartment...but House hadn't given him permission to leave, and the intensivist was

not brazen enough to complain. Because with a limp that pronounced...there just had to be trouble ahead.


Once the two had arrived at House's apartment, Chase stood on the sidewalk in silence, while his boss fumbled for the keys. House looked at his intensivist

questioningly.

"Well?!"

"Well, what?"

"Are you coming up?"

"Um...why?" House rolled his eyes.

"You wanna walk home, or sleep on my couch?"

Chase hesitated. Then, he took a breath and admitted, "Actually, I was thinking...maybe you could lend me some money for the cab?"

"No." The answer was clipped, and Chase swallowed before pressing,

"I'd pay you back tomorrow..."

"I don't lend stuff to employees."

"It would just be for a couple hours."

"Chase. I said no. Have you ever managed to change my mind?" The Australian shook his head, and his boss smirked, convinced he had won. His eyes

narrowed when the obstinate duckling opened his mouth again.

"But, I mean – if it's just until – "

"Hey!" House snapped. It was a warning, and Chase took it as such. He swallowed.

"Let's...go up, then."