Bowling Night - Chapter #1
Title: Bowling Night
Author: MitchPell
Characters: House and Chase primarily.
Rating: Currently PG-13, but will probably be upgraded to R.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything; however, David Shore and Fox do. I’m just using their stuff for a little bit of non-profitable fun.
Authors Notes: Spoiler warnings for all seasons and episodes, but seasons 4 and 5 will be covered in more detail than the others. I appreciate any and all feedback. Tell me whatever you think: the good, the bad, the ok, the grammar errors, etc… Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Beta: Thanks to girlwithoutfear for the beta!
Summary: Bowling night wasn’t part of the custody agreement.
Previous Chapters: Prologue
Chase sighed as he looked up at the TV above the bar, nursing his beer as he took in the game; the Blue Devils were down one-nil against the Rangers, which was just another thing to add to his already shitty day.
It had been a long one. His first surgery had been scheduled for seven that morning. And what should have been a routine appendectomy turned into a complicated nightmare. Things had gone downhill from there, with the day ending with an emergency late that evening. He’d lost the patient.
When he finally managed to leave the hospital it had been well past eight; he was tired, not exhausted per say, at least not physically. Just wore out. Despite his day, however, or maybe because of it, he was somewhat looking forward to unwinding, knocking back a few beers, and bowling a couple of frames with…well he wasn’t sure what he’d call House. Course, that all depended on House actually showing up.
Speak of the devil; Chase thought dryly as he glanced towards the side door as it whined open and House limped in. Shaking his head, Chase turned back to the game as he finished off what was left of his beer. “You’re late,” he called, motioning to the bartender for another.
“So I am,” House replied pleasantly, joining Chase at the bar and snatching up the fresh bottle that was placed in front of them.
“Are you really that surprised?” he asked, before taking a pull from the bottle.
“No,” Chase admitted as he flagged down the bartender once again. “But, I’m starting to have more sympathy for Wilson.”
House rolled his eyes at that. “Are we going to bowl or do you plan to spend the night bitching?” he asked, raising his brow as he fixed Chase with his intense stare, “just so I know what to expect.”
“I can’t do both?”
“You can, but if I’d wanted bitching, I’d have asked Foreman or Thirteen to join me.”
“And they’d have turned you down.”
“True,” House admitted, before shaking out two vicodin and washing them down with his beer.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Chase laughed under his breath. At this point, he was half tempted to leave. After the day he’d had, he was starting to doubt whether or not he could stand for House’s personal brand of company. But he didn’t feel much like going home. Not just yet; and he didn’t have much in terms of an alternative.
Mind made up, Chase tossed a few bills on the bar and pushed himself up off the barstool. He then bent over to pick up his ball bag. Grabbing his beer, he gestured towards the door. “After you.”
House nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as the two exited the bar through the side door, which led back into the bowling alley; Chase following House to the counter, where the older doctor rented both shoes and a lane. The place was fairly empty, with only about half the lanes in use, so they didn’t have to wait. Monday wasn’t a league night, nor apparently was it that popular with the non-league bowlers. If he had to guess, Chase would wager that that was the reason why House chose Mondays in the first place, less of an audience.
“So,” House started as they walked the short distance to their lane and sat down at the surrounding chairs. “Who pissed in your cornflakes this evening?”
“What are you talking about?” Chase asked as he pulled his bowling shoes out of his bag and started undoing the laces of his sneakers.
“You’ve known me for almost four years” House replied, grunting slightly as he carefully toed off his shoes. “Plenty of time to become immune to my tardiness, and yet you’re still irritated.” He winced as he pulled his right leg up onto one of the chairs and started working on the bowling shoe. “Seems like a bit of an overreaction, unless you were already pissed over something else. So, what is it that’s got your panties in a bunch?”
“It’s nothing,” Chase denied as he shoved his street shoes beneath his chair and started pulling on his wrist support. “Just a bad day at work.”
“Lose a patient?” House asked as he lowered his leg back onto the floor, straightening it out as he pulled on his other shoe.
Chase’s head jerked up, as he glared at his former boss. “Yeah, I did.”
“Was it your fault?”
“No.”
House shook his head slightly as he looked at Chase. “Then you need to let it go.”
Chase barked out a laugh at that. “Yeah. This coming from the king of obsession.”
“I don’t obsess about dead patients, unless I don’t know what killed them.” He shrugged, before standing up. “Otherwise, I’d sleep worse than I already do.” The statement hung between them for a moment, leaving the air thick and somewhat uncomfortable. “Now quit ruining my night by acting like a first year med student and get over it. I’m going to go find a ball.”
Chase sat there for a moment, digesting House’s words. They weren’t exactly pearls of wisdom, nor was the message all that original. It was one of the first things you learned out of med school. You could care for your patients; you should care for your patients. But you couldn’t let yourself become attached, couldn’t invest yourself too deeply, or you’d never make it.
It was difficult sometimes, to detach yourself. Sometimes a particular case will hit too close to home. And it was times like that, times like today, that you needed a reminder.
Smiling quietly to himself, Chase pulled out his bowling ball.