Silvie apologizes for the incredibly looong lapse, but would like to add that you all have NO IDEA how happy her vast number of reviews makes her. For yea; they are numberless as the number of seasons House will surely run for.

Random Quote of the Day: “People who are rather more than six feet tall and nearly as broad across the shoulders often have uneventful journeys. People jump out at them from behind rocks then say things like, "Oh. Sorry. I thought you were someone else."-Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett

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Foreman and Cameron gasped. VOGLER?

“Hey!” said Cameron. “‘Mildly intelligent’? I resent that!”

“No, said Foreman, “you’re the lovesick one. I’m the intelligent one.”

“But you and Chase-“

“I-AM-STRAIGHT!” hollered Foreman. “YOU are the lovesick one! TRUST ME!”

“No! I hate House this season! Even though it just seems like I’m just smarting from rejection and we will wind up together! Or maybe that’s just a wishful fan clutching at straws!”

“There you go with that ‘season’ thing again-”
House interrupted their squabbling drivel. “What are you doing here, Vogler? We got rid of you! And your 100 billion dollars!”

“Cuddy cries about that every day in the girl’s bathroom,” said Cameron dreamily.

“I AM HERE TO FIRE YOU FOR HAVING A YO-YO!” said the former head of the hospital. He broke into maniacal laughter, the lights flickered, and everybody’s pens broke, creating spreading ink stains on their shirts. House did an around-the-world. The yo-yo smacked Vogler and he disappeared with a screech and a horrible melting sound.

“I filled it with holy water,” said House by means of explanation. “Actually, it’s just regular water. Holy water gives me weird burns. I don’t know why. Unfortunately, that might mean we have only temporarily banished the Dark One! I say that because he is evil, not because he is black.”

“You never mind mocking me because I’m black,” pointed out Foreman.

“Vogler is different. He could actually do things to me. For some reason, you don’t. You’re an easy target. I mock you and I mock you, but you never leave.”

“THAT DOES IT!” yelled Foreman. “I QUIT!” He walked out the door. Chase and Cameron stared.

“Aren’t you going to stop him?”

“He only does that for Cameron,” said Wilson, poking his head around the door. House threw the yo-yo at him.

----------------------------Later

“Thank you for not being sarcastic about anything yet,” said Cuddy.

“Cuddy, I would have done anything to get you to put your normal clothes back on.” Cuddy shuffled her papers. “House, I asked you here so I could talk to you about how rude you were to that clinic patient last week. She’s filing a lawsuit. I understand you don’t get along with patients, but could we try to keep it just below the level where they leave dead squirrels on my pillow?”

“Don’t exaggerate, Cuddy.”

Cuyddy held up a dead squirrel. House stared at it for a minute, then opened his mouth. What will he say, wondered Cuddy. Is he finally going to admit defeat?

“I have a leg infarction,” House instead said irrelevantly.

Wow, thought Cuddy. He revealed something about himself! I’d better let him go. If I yell at him now he’ll never open up again-no, wait, that’s exactly what he wants.

“Nice try, House,” she said aloud.

She looked around. “House?” Her office was empty “HEY, HE ESCAPED WHILE I WAS THINKING! NO FAIR!”

“It’s not my fault it takes so long for her,” said House, already legging it well down the hall.

Cuddy poked her head around the door of her office and saw him “YOU HAVE 30 EXTRA CLINIC HOURS THIS WEEK!”

“Darn it! I keep forgetting she’s my boss, and not afraid of me! Also that sound travels through air, so that somebody can assign you things even as you’re limping away! DARN THIS LEG INFARCTION!” House said to himself. To Cuddy he said, “GEE, I HOPE NOBODY IS ASSIGNING ME CLINIC HOURS! I WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO HEAR THEM BECAUSE I AM CURRENTLY ‘ROCKING OUT’ TO MY IPOD! OH WELL! LALALALA!” He passed Nurse Brenda, who was shooting tranquilizers into a random escaping patient’s neck.

“Your iPod’s not on.”

“Shh!”

“Oh, hey, House. I have something to tell you. Your patient’s caregivers won’t let you treat it anymore.”

“WHAT? I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT BELIEVE THIS, EVEN THOUGH SOMETHING SIMILAR TO IT HAPPENS WITH ALMOST EVERY PATIENT I HAVE!”

Brenda raised the tranquilizer gun. “Whoa, House. Don’t make me use this on you, too.” House paused. “Does it shoot Vicodin?”

“No.”

House runs into the breakroom. Of course, everyone’s favorite slackers are already there.

“Okay, everyone: why won’t the patient’s caregivers let us treat it?” Cameron stared banging her head against the table. Foreman gritted his teeth.

“The patient…is…A….POTATO!” he said. House stopped in surprise.

“Hey, Foreman. What are you doing back here?”

“Nobody else would hire me. Apparently word has gotten out that all people who have worked for you turn out to have massive, if subtle psychological problems that manifest themselves either in the person consistently taking the last of the coffee without making more, or by going on killing sprees. We can’t get hired.”

“Like I’d hire anyone without psychological problems. Cameron dated me. Because she wanted to. Does that say ‘normal’ to you? Anyways, I know the patient is a potato. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Well, since you never visit them, we could be treating a penguin for all you know,” muttered Chase.

“Chase, what did we say about that talking thing?”

“I’m..not supposed to do it anymore?” House nodded. “That’s right. Try not to forget it. As punishment, you have 30 clinic hours to do this week. Sign in as me.”

“Are you using me as a pawn in another feud with Cuddy?” Chase’s angelic brow crinkled.

“Well, Chase,” said Cameron. “Let’s think about this one. He frequently calls you Dr. Pawn, you are only allowed to walk down the hallway diagonally, and the name on your desk reads DR. ROBERT CHASE: PAWN. What do you think?”

“I think maybe I should go break into the potato’s apartment now. And then report to the clinic.”

“Maybe you should.”

Cameron and Foreman walked down the hallway and saw Chase up ahead, curled up in an alcove, staring straight into the distance. They assumed he had gotten into another staring match with the wall again. That is until they noticed that he was rocking back and forth and sucking his thumb.

“Chase! What’s the matter?” called Foreman as they hurried forward.

“I…I…”

“Yes, what is it?” said Cameron, crouching next to Chase.

“I…”

“Did another little kid call you a poo-poo-head?” asked Cameron. “Remember, Chase, ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but-”

“No….it’s worse than that…I lost my little flashlight!”

Both doctors gasped involuntarily. All traffic along the hallway stopped as everyone, including the janitor, stared at Chase in horror. A doctor without a flashlight is like the sky without the sun: very blue and rather pointless.

“What?” cried Foreman in horror as Cameron recoiled. “The little penlight that all of us, ALL OF US have in a hidden breast pocket somewhere-”

“Or in my case, just a pocket, because it’s not like women ever are seen using those stupid things-” muttered Cameron.

“Ready to whip out as soon as our patient of the week goes into a coma,”

“Or has a seizure, or blows their nose,” added Cameron.

“Or faints,” interjected Brenda, passing by.

“Or does anything else unexpected?” said Cuddy.

“Yes,” said Chase miserably. All of the doctors gasped.

“But Chase,” said Cuddy, “The Hippocratic Oath! “Do no harm, and keep thy flashlight near and dear, blah blah blah!” Cameron looked at Cuddy “‘Blah blah blah?’ That is a sacred and important oath!”

“I was never actually a doctor,” Cuddy revealed. “I have an art degree; I’m just the only person so far who doesn’t go into mental breakdown when having to deal with You-Know-Who. In upper administrative circles I am revered as a goddess by the name of She-Who-Dresses-Inappropriately-For-The-Workplace.”

“You-Know-Who?” Cameron was confused. “You-Know-Who,” said Foreman in an impressive mythological voice. “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Dark Lord Sarcasmort. Devourer of Bosses. Hospital heads flee before Him, for He Speaks Loudly and Carries a Big Cane. Lo, the Piles of His Paperwork are Large and Distressing; His Personal Problems Numerous as the Stars in the Sky. He-” Cameron slapped Foreman. “Hel-lo?” said Chase in annoyance. “I LOST my FLASHLIGHT! Could we focus on ME for a second here?” “Oh. Right,” said Cameron. “You’re not a doctor, Brenda, give him your flashlight!”

“NEVER!” said Brenda, raising her tranquilizer gun.

“But he’ll go into withdrawal! He’ll pass out!”

“Wait, Cameron. Let’s think,” said Foreman, laying a hand on her arm as Chase flopped over on the floor in the fetal position. “When he does, then we’ll check his eyes and get to use our flashlights.”

“We won’t be able to hear from Chase! For…three…hours.” Said Cuddy, catching on.

They all fell silent, imagining what they could get done if Chase was just out of the way for three glorious golden hours. And all the times they’d be able to whip out their penlights and check his pupils. I think by this point we all know that Chase does not get a flashlight again until after he wakes up from his withdrawal coma.

Wilson and Cameron came around the corner, laughing and chattingin a platonic way, at least for , you never know. House, wearing an ironed shirt, was humming and drawing daisies on the whiteboard. They stopped and stared.

“Hmmm,” said Cameron. “Does House strike you as a little…different today?” House burst into song, threw his Vicodin out the wondow and clicked his heels.

“You mean, ever since he came back from that overnight trip with his ex-girlfriend whom he still loves and who has been having relationship trouble with her husband?” asked Wilson. They both watched House turn a few cartwheels.

“Yeah,” said Cameron eventually.

House hugged a puppy.

“No, not really,” said Wilson. “Why, do you?”

“I dunno, there’s just this weird vibe about him today.”

“Well,” said Wilson, “we can test that.” He cleared his throat and yelled, “SHE’S MARRIED!” House ran into his office with his fingers in his ears. Cameron and Wilson looked at each other and shrugged.

“I can’t show any emotion because the producers don’t want House/Cammers getting hope,” said Cameron. “Chase is still out like a light, getting Cuddy involved is not worth it and Foreman is too much of a jerk.”

Wilson was surprised. “Why would you say that?”

“I dunno. Doesn’t he strike you as the type of person who, when stressed, would go on a self-centered hypodermic needle stabbing spree?” Wilson considered this.

“Um. ….No?”

“Sometimes it seems that way when I’m with him.” Cameron laughed nervously. “I guess I’m just being silly. I mean, there’s no way that would actually happen. We’re friends.”

“Speaking of friends, yelling at House would be a job for one of them, so I’ll just go-” started Wilson, hoping to avoid having to deal with House.

“You are his friend.”

“What about Bus Stop Guy?”

Cameron looked at him. “Oh. Right.” Wilson instantly exploded with indignation.

“HOUSE! SHE’S MARRIED!” House stuck his head out of his office.

“I know! I broke up with her!” Wilson exploded again.

“WHAT? HOW COULD YOU! YOU WANT TO BE MISERABLE BECAUSE IT MAKES YOU SPECIAL!”

“YOU’RE MAD AT HIM FOR DATING HER AND THEN YOU’RE MAD AT HIM FOR NOT DATING HER? ARE YOU ON CRACK? IF YOU’RE AS BAD AT DIAGNOSING PATIENTS AS YOU ARE AT DIAGNOSING PERSONAL PROBLEMS-” Cameron shrieked. House and Wilson stared at her.

“Cameron, this is between me and Doctor House. So if you wouldn't mind-” Cameron glowered but left. “And I am not on crack!” Wilson yelled after her.

-----------------

The floor is lava,
Silverfingers