Bowling Night - Chapter #3
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, Chapter #1, and Chapter #2
“I still can’t believe it,” Chase continued when he returned from the bar, setting House’s beer on the table as he sat down. “Anyone else would have been arrested for kidnapping and assault. At the very least. And that’s if they didn’t wind up killing the guy by massive overdose.”
“Now that’s just ridiculous,” House replied with mock indignation from where he waited at the ball return. “No one else would have even noticed the initial symptoms. And then poor Brach would have died from quinine toxicity.”
“No, Evan’s leg would have gone numb either at home or on the way there, and he would have gone to the hospital of his own free will.”
“Which would have been totally boring.”
“Which would have been totally legal. I swear, I think you have to be one of the luckiest men I’ve ever met…diagnostically,” Chase amended, mentally grimacing at the look House gave him. “I mean…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get what you’re trying to say. But you should know, after four years, that luck has nothing to do with it. I’m just that awesome.”
“No.” Chase disagreed again as he leaned back on the hard plastic chair, taking a pull from his beer as he watched House attempt to bowl. “I’ve seen you be awesome. I’ve seen you pull brilliant diagnoses out of your ass. This was luck.”
“Dr. Chase, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous,” House mocked as he limped back behind the auto-scorer and snatched up his beer. “Jealous,” he continued at the skeptical look Chase shot him, “of the fact that I now have private access to the hottest daytime soap on the air.”
“Right,” Chase drawled, as he forced himself to his feet to take his turn, “because that’s what this is all about. It has nothing to do with your actions or the patient and everything to do with my secret love for General Hospital.” Turning his back on House, he lined up his first ball and made his approach. “That’s something I’ve never understood,” he said, grunting the last word slightly as he released the ball, earning another strike. “What is it with you and this show? Because, to be honest, I don’t see the attraction.”
“How can you say that?” House asked incredulously, right hand lightly holding his thigh though he remained on his feet. “Have you ever sat down and actually watched an entire episode?”
“Well…no,” Chase admitted, as he waited for House to start the final frame. “But I can’t say I’ve ever felt the desire to waste my afternoon watching a TV show about doctors of all things.” Pausing for a moment, he downed the last of his beer and tossed the empty. “I get enough hospital drama at work.”
“Yeah, because I’m sure things get really heated down there in the OR.” House called over his shoulder before rolling his second ball.
“I’ll admit that it’s nothing like working for you, but it has its moments.” Waiting for House to turn back to the ball return, Chase pressed, “You never did answer my question.”
“That’s because it was a stupid question,” House pointed out as he picked up his ball, regarding Chase as if he were an idiot. “Why does anyone like anything? If we could control what we liked and disliked, we’d all choose to love morons. You know, since they seem to make up the majority of our population.”
“True as that may be…”
“What? That the world is comprised of idiots?”
“That we can’t control our likes and dislikes,” Chase corrected with a roll of his eyes, as he picked up his ball, “you still have to know what it is about the show that you like. What it is about it that possess you to go out and buy every available season on DVD.”
“You seem awfully obsessed with my obsession,” House said, fixing him with a look.
“And you’re trying…”
“The question is why.”
“No,” Chase stated adamantly as prepared to bowl his last ball. “The question is what.” Spinning the ball in his hands he regarded House, “But if you want to make it a why…why are you avoiding answering?” He allowed a small smile to spread across his face. “Too embarrassing to tell? I could understand if it were, daytime dramas are rather girly.”
“Not embarrassing,” House relented, “just boring.”
“Oh come on,” Chase challenged, gathering his ball as it was spit from the return. “You don’t actually expect me to believe that.”
House shrugged noncommittally. “I’ve learned to have low expectations when it comes to others.”
“Fine, don’t tell me; I’ll just draw my own conclusions.”
“You go ahead and…whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?”
“What?” Chase asked incredulously, looking up from where he was stuffing his ball into his bag.
“Who said we’re finished?”
“Well…I just assumed,” Chase began almost nervously, “I mean…that was two games.”
“Your point is?”
“We only ever play two games.”
“And that automatically means we have to stop at two?”
“No, I just,” Chase paused for a moment, trying to think of something that wasn’t guaranteed to piss House off, “assumed your ego could only handle two thrashings at a time.”
House smirked at that. “I think it can handle one more game.”
“Alright,” Chase relented, pulling his ball back out of his bag, “but you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”