Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/498468.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      House_M.D., CSI:_NY
  Relationship:
      Robert_Chase/Lindsay_Monroe
  Character:
      Robert_Chase, Lindsay_Monroe, Danny_Messer, Allison_Cameron, Eric
      Foreman, Mac_Taylor, Lisa_Cuddy, James_Wilson
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Crossover, BDSM, Het, Mystery, Humor, Snark, Underage_Sex, Sexual
      Fantasy
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-28 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 10717
****** Put Out The Fire ******
by karaokegal
Summary
     A murder investigation brings Lindsay to PPTH, where she meets Robert
     Chase and discovers they have something in common.
Notes
     Originally posted to LJ on May 21, 2006. Now a sad reminder of how
     good both of these shows were at the time. The original plot bunny
     was inspired by kohl_rimmed_eye.
     Warning: Later chapters include references to underage sex, so don't
     start the story unless you're willing to go there. I doubt it matters
     anymore, but spoilers for "Love Hurts" and the 2nd season of House MD
     in general.
     Apologies for cliche'd use of those lyrics, by the way. At the time
     there was still some novelty to the fact that it was both the CSI-NY
     theme and had made a House MD appearance.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Dr. Robert Chase was busy feeling sorry for himself when the police showed up.
As if the daily insults and petty indignities that came with working for House
weren’t bad enough, he had to suffer through his second winter of relentlessly
bone-chilling weather. Temperate zone, they called it. Ha!
“Dr. House?”
He looked up, startled. He’d been sitting at House’s desk trying to understand
the intricacies of the yo-yo and hadn’t noticed the man and woman walk into the
office.
The man had sandy hair with a cowlick that seemed to be resisting all efforts
at taming. Maybe that was why he hadn’t bothered trying to shave properly. He
wore a grey suit, glasses and an attitude that screamed “New Yorker”.
“Uh. No, I’m Dr. Chase.”
“Yeah, well we need to talk to you too.”
Chase didn’t have House’s ear for accents, but he’d been on the East Coast long
enough to guess that the man hailed from one of the outer boroughs, which meant
he had even more attitude than the average New Yorker.
“And you are…?”
Chase could sling a little attitude himself.
“We’re from the NYPD crime lab. I’m Detective Messer and this is Detective
Monroe. Do you know where we can find Dr. House?”
Chase made a last attempt to get the toy to co-operate before putting it back
in the top drawer. He assumed that House was somewhere in the hospital fighting
with Stacy, brooding about Stacy or talking to Wilson about Stacy. He didn’t
know exactly where this activity was taking place.
Foreman had been dispatched to do House’s clinic hours while Cameron trolled
ICU looking for cases that might pique House’s interest. Chase’s designated
task was “circle the wagons and head em’ off at the pass”, which he translated
as “Keep Cuddy off my back”. He wasn’t sure if it applied to the police as
well. Knowing House, it probably did.
“He’s scheduled to be in the clinic right now,” he answered truthfully.
Detective Messer nodded and set off purposefully without asking where the
clinic was. Chase tried to keep a straight face. Messer would find Foreman who
could then take the hit for leading the cops to House.
Detective Monroe remained in the office. She didn’t strike him as being a New
Yorker, much less a member of the NYPD. She seemed too gentle to be either,
with brown hair and eyes that could either be nondescript or stunning depending
on angle and intent. Maybe some charm would produce the latter.
“You’re a long way from New York.”
“Not as far as you are from Australia. Do you know this woman?” she asked,
removing a picture from her pocketbook and handing it to him.
He looked and tried to hide the fact that even her picture could get to him.
“That’s Annette Raines. What does…?”
“She was found dead last night in her apartment on the Upper West side.
Strangled. Can I ask how you know her?”
Chase’s mind went haywire.
Annette murdered? Harvey. The parties. Louise. The burns. How much do they
know? What are they doing here? What I am going to do? Shit!
He managed to get his mouth to work. His voice came out calm, but concerned.
“She was the friend of one of our patients, Harvey Park…” He started losing it
again. “Oh god! Harvey. He won’t be able to function without her.”
“You’ve got that right,” she replied grimly. “He’s completely catatonic.”
“He would never hurt her. He couldn’t. Um…how much do you…?”
“We know,” said Detective Monroe, sparing him from having to discuss the
details of Harvey and Annette’s relationship.
The policewoman clearly took her mission seriously. She reminded him of Sister
Mary Isabella who had taken it upon herself to cram algebra into his twelve
year old mind at St. Bart’s back in Perth.
“We found the file from Harvey’s treatment in Ms. Raines' apartment. When we
tried to tell Harvey what had happened the only thing he said was “Call Dr.
House.” Then he checked out on us. He’s up at Bellevue right now, but they
don’t think he’s coming back any time soon.”
“I don’t know what to say. It may be…have been unconventional, but they really
cared about each other.”
“Dr. Chase, I need to ask why your name was in the victim’s phone book?”
Chase could feel his face getting warm. He looked down, unable to meet her eyes
as he told her about Louise who like to get burned and the parties where he’d
run into Annette Raines a few times. It was the same story he’d told House and
the fellows when he had to answer for how he just happened to know that Annette
was a dominatrix.
He managed to look up in to Detective Monroe’s eyes. He thought he glimpsed a
hint of compassion. Or maybe it was just a professional cover for disgust,
which would be compounded if she knew the rest of the story.
“I’ll need the name of the woman you were seeing.”
Chase tried to hide his wince. Louise hadn’t taken his departure well. What
would she say?
“Louise Howard. Last I heard she was living in Philadelphia.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me?”
“Nothing I can think of.”
“Maybe Danny’s doing better with Dr. House.”
“Detective…”
“Yes?”
“Please let me know if you find out. You know…you can’t judge people for
something like that.”
“No.” Again the feeling of empathy, maybe even kinship. “Of course not. Which
way is that clinic?”
“First floor.”
He watched her leave, a pleasant view from the back. He tried not to think of
nuns.
After she was gone, Chase sat down on top of House’s desk. He reached around to
the top drawer and took out the yo-yo. That way, if House showed up, he
wouldn’t catch him praying for the soul of Annette Raines.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Danny Messer meets Dr. Greg House.
Danny Messer had been talking to Dr. House for less than five minutes before he
decided he wanted to punch him out, cane or no cane.
He was already pissed off by the runaround it took to find the guy in the first
place. First the Aussie, who barely looked old enough to be a doctor at all,
had sent him to the clinic, where he found not Dr. House, but Dr. Foreman.
Foreman was polite, but clearly had his own issues with the cops, no matter how
smoothly he tried to hide it. Foreman claimed not to know where House was, and
shrugged when Danny asked why he was doing another doctor’s clinic hours.
“Hey, I’m gonna talk to House if I have to search this whole hospital,” he
threatened.
Foreman just rolled his eyes and said he’d page Dr. Cameron. Danny expected to
get another one of the three stooges. Dr. Cameron turned out to be easier on
the eyes than Moe or Larry, but no more helpful in getting him to Dr. House.
She led him on a pointless tour of the hospital, while babbling inanely about
how busy Dr. House was and how many consults he was doing. Finally Danny
couldn’t take her nervous chatter any more.
“What the hell kind of hospital is this?” he exploded, having arrived back on
the first floor in front of an office door that said “Dr. Lisa Cuddy-Hospital
Administrator”.
The door opened and a tall brunette in a business suit and a pair of high heels
that also meant business stomped out.
“It’s one of the top five teaching hospital in the United States according to
the Journal of the American Medical Association. Now what’s going on here?”
“I’m Detective Messer from the NYPD crime lab. I’m looking for Dr. House and no
one,” he looked at pointedly at Dr. Cameron, “seems to want to tell me where he
is.”
“Right,” said the brunette Amazon, sounding exasperated, but not surprised.
“OK, Dr. Cameron, I’ll take it from here.” Her dismissive tone made Dr. Cameron
seem like a rebellious teenager. Danny practically expected her to say, “But
mom…” before she went off to her bedroom to sulk.
Dr. Cuddy wasted no time taking him back up to the second floor and leading him
to an office, which happened to be right next to Dr. House’s office where he’d
started this wild goose chase.
She walked into the office without knocking, causing two men to look up
guiltily from a game of Chinese checkers. One was behind the desk, looking
every inch the well-groomed doctor out of a soap opera. The other had at least
three days worth of beard growth and wore a somewhat battered tweed jacket over
an Original Ray’s Pizza t-shirt.
Danny turned to the clean-shaven one.
“Dr. House?” he said hopefully and got a headshake in response.
Dr. Cuddy addressed the man that Danny had taken for a patient or a bum.
“Dr. House. This is Detective Messer from the New York Police Department. He’s
going to talk to you.”
House started reciting, “In the criminal justice system, the people are
represented…”
“And you’re going to co-operate,” Cuddy cut him off.
“But what if he tries to rough me up?” House asked imitating a whining child.
“Then you’ll come down to the clinic and we’ll treat you,” Cuddy said, before
executing a sharp turn and leaving.
Young Dr. Handsome made to get up as well.
“Come on Wilson, don’t you want to find out why the NYPD is about fifty miles
out of their jurisdiction?”
“See you later,” said Wilson, hurriedly grabbing a handful of files before
beating a hasty retreat, leaving Danny alone with his quarry.
“Do you guys even have enough money in the budget to cover the gasoline?”
Danny counted to ten and then did it backwards.
“Dr. House, I need to ask you about one of your patients.”
“Buzz. Doctor-patient confidentiality. Thanks for playing.”
“Wrong game, Doc. We’ve already seen the file. Do you remember a guy named
Harvey Park? You saved his life by figuring out that there was an infection in
his jaw.”
House picked up the cane that had been hooked over the side of the chair. Danny
could see the mind working. He looked like a bum, but the blue eyes were sharp
and alive.
“Did Annette start strangling him again? I told those crazy kids to behave
themselves. No asphyxiation until marriage.”
“Obviously you know about Annette and Harvey and their…arrangement?”
“She ties him up He does her taxes. Ain’t love grand.”
“Annette was found strangled last night. Harvey’s medical file was in her
apartment. Any idea why?”
“She’d already read “The DaVinci Code” and was looking for something with a
better plot? How’s Harvey taking it?”
“He’s not doing so good.”
“Which means what? He’s got a headache, his tummy hurts?”
“He’s in Bellevue. The doctors say he’s completely catatonic.”
“Police brutality?”
There weren’t enough numbers.
“Could you lay off the razzing for two seconds? I’m asking for your help here.”
“It must be exhausting playing good-cop/bad-cop all by yourself.”
“When we told Harvey about Annette, he started crying. Then he said “Call Dr.
House.” And then he didn’t say anything. Any idea why he’d tell us to talk to
you before he shut up permanently?”
House finally appeared to be taking him seriously. He reached into the pocket
of his jacket and pulled out a pill bottle. He stared at the label as if the
answers would appear there, before looking up at Danny.
“Can I see Harvey’s file from Bellevue.”
“It’s not your case.”
“Then make it my case. Bring him here.”
“No way that’s gonna happen. He’s staying in New York.”
House raised his eyebrows.
“Sorry, can’t help you.”
Danny felt his hands balling up into fists in his pockets. House was more
interested in his games than helping solve a murder.
“A woman was killed.”
“And the guy who might know something can’t talk to you. If I can get him to
talk, you might be able to solve your murder. Everybody wins.”
House actually made this insanity sound logical to Danny until he imagined
himself trying to sell it to Mac. Yeah. That would go over.
“We’ll be in touch, Dr. House.”
“But will you love me tomorrow?”
Danny left the office with the beginning of an almighty headache. He wondered
if he could score some aspirin back at the clinic. He wouldn’t mind scoring
something else from that Dr. Cuddy either. She had a major league set of…
“Danny.”
“Huh? Hey, Montana. Let’s get out of here. We gotta get back to the city and
traffic’s gonna be a bitch on the turnpike.”
“OK. What are you leering at?”
“Who me? I’m just looking for some aspirin.”
“I’ve got some in the glove compartment. I’ll drive.”
“You’re a saint on earth, but I’m not listening to any more of that country
music crap.”
They settled on the local sports station. Danny told Lindsay about his less
than illuminating encounter with Dr. House.
“I couldn’t believe that guy. What an ego. The best guys at Bellevue can't get
through to Park and he’s like, just bring him down here to the middle of bum
fuck Egypt and I’ll fix him.”
“He’s supposed to be a brilliant doctor.”
“I think he’s a bullshit artist who gets lucky sometimes. Mr. Freako isn’t
leaving New York until he sits up and tells us who killed his leather queen.”
“Danny,” she replied with a disapproving sigh.
Danny knew he wasn’t supposed to feel that way. He’d been to the sensitivity
training. Just another lifestyle, they told him. But every time they had one of
these freaky, kinky sex cases it made his skin crawl and tied his stomach up in
knots.
“So how did it go with Dr. Doogie from down under?”
“He met Annette at some parties. He says he knew a girl who was into the
scene.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? "The Scene.” What did he do exactly?”
Lindsay shrugged, almost like the New Yorker, she might become if she stayed
around long enough.
“He didn’t get specific. He just knew this girl and they met Annette at some
parties and that’s how he ended up in her phone book.”
“A dominatrix who networks. Great.”
He noticed a smile on Lindsay’s face.
“You liked him? He told you something and you’re holding out on me cos’ you
liked him?”
“I didn’t say I liked him. It was just nice to question someone who wasn’t a
total sleazebag for a change. He’s a doctor. He was polite.”
“He’s a pretty boy.” Danny scoffed, feeling an unwelcome mixture of
protectiveness and jealousy. “And he must have been into some kinky stuff to
meet the vic, so you should steer clear of him.”
Lindsay took her eyes off the road long enough to fix Danny with that Sweet
Polly Purebred smile that made him feel a little mushy inside.
“You think people don’t have kinky sex in Montana?”
Danny closed his eyes and tried to believe she was just saying that to mess
with him. He wound up dozing off. When he woke up, they were halfway to
Manhattan, the radio was back playing country music and Lindsay was still
smiling.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     "You think people don't have kinky sex in Montana?"
Chapter Notes
     This is the chapter where the graphic, under-age, and BDSM stuff
     kicks in. Last chance to turn around.
After three days, the Annette Raines investigation had had hit a dead end, or
at least a catatonic one.
Hawkes and Hammerback had spent an abundance of time with the corpse and all
they could provide was the approximate time of death and the fact that the
dominatrix had been strangled with the sash from her black silk robe, which the
killer had been kind enough to leave on the doorknob with no helpful
fingerprints or trace evidence.
Stella had collected prints, hair, epithelials and various other forms of DNA
from the victim’s apartment. Stella found it worth mentioning that the samples
came from every part of the apartment except the bedroom. Annette’s bed had
been devoid of any physical evidence except for her own hair on the pillow.
Clients hadn’t been allowed to cross that particular threshold.
Flack pointed that out that this was true, if you didn’t count Harvey’s cage at
the foot of Annette’s bed.
Running down the samples was an exercise in futility. Annette must have chosen
her clientele more carefully than most New York restaurants screened their
employees. AFIS was a bust. The only two CODIS hits led to a nurse who’d been
working the night of the murder, and a real estate broker.
Danny liked the Trump wannabe for the murder just on general “rich, kinky guy
without an alibi” principles. Lindsay pointed out that he’d looked genuinely
distraught by the news of Annette’s death and the first word’s out of his mouth
after a few variations on “Oh my god, that’s horrible, I don’t believe it!” had
been “Is Harvey OK?”
After they’d finished running down the contacts from the vic’s phone book, all
they could do was report to Mac that they had nothing.
“This chick was the Sara Lee of the “tie me up, tie me down” set. Nobody didn’t
like her,” announced Danny with an aggravated sigh.
“And they all knew about Harvey and Annette,” Lindsay added. “They moved up
here after the surgery on Harvey’s jaw. I guess they found it easier to be here
than in Philadelphia.”
“I guess the City Of Brotherly Love doesn’t extend it to sex freaks.”
Mac fixed them both with one of those looks that Lindsay still couldn’t quite
read after nearly a year. She didn’t know if he had any opinion whatsoever
about the lifestyle of the victim or Danny’s less than PC take on said
lifestyle. She knew he wanted results and so far they weren’t providing any.
“You’re going to Bellevue,” he said matter of factly.
“Hey, Mac, I know this job gets to me sometime, but it’s not that bad.”
“I don’t mean that and I don’t mean you.” His gaze focused on Lindsay. “Mr.
Park is being transferred to Princeton Plainsboro.”
“Are you nuts?” Danny exploded. “He’s the only one who might know something
that could help us.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Mac, his face reflecting only a fraction of the annoyance
he must be feeling. “But your friend, Dr. House, got the hospital’s counsel to
make some phone calls. She managed to get Senator Wright to call the Governor
who called the Mayor.”
“So now we’re letting Bloomberg’s office push us around?”
“I don’t like this any more than you do, but Park isn’t doing us any good in
his current condition. Maybe this Dr. House can figure out how to get him
talking. Lindsay, go home and pack a bag. You’re going to ride down in the
ambulance and then stay with Park. If he has anything to say, I want you to be
the first to hear it.”
“I think I should go with her,” Danny protested.
“No. You and Stella go back to the apartment. Talk to everybody.”
“Stella and Flack already did that.”
“Then do it again.”
“But…”
Lindsay tuned it out. Danny was like a child who needed his father’s
discipline. She smiled at the word “discipline”.
 
The ride to Princeton was uneventful, punctuated only by the EMTs bitching
about the Jets, the Mayor, and eventually the weather. Wimps, she thought. Try
getting through a Montana winter with four months of snow and freezing
temperatures and you still have go out there and do your chores. Then come
whining to me about your wind-chill factor.
“You think people don’t have kinky sex it Montana.” The look on Danny’s face
had been priceless. And he didn’t know a tenth of it.
Lindsay had been a typical ranch kid who loved riding, excelled at roping and
learned to be stoic about branding. She’d also been a bookworm who started
reading lurid “true crime” books as soon as she realized that nothing
interesting was ever going to happen to Nancy Drew.
She spent winter vacation of her senior year dreaming of getting away, even if
it was only as far as Montana State College in Billings.
She’d been curled up with the latest Ann Rule book when her dad asked her to
ride out and look for a foal that had gone missing. It was one of those winter
afternoons when the sun could blind you without providing any heat at all.
Without realizing it, she’d ridden out to the far west side of the Monroe
ranch. She looked through her binoculars, scanning for any sight of the foal.
Instead she found herself looking directly at the window of the house next
door. The winter sun was rendering the curtains translucent.
The house belonged to Jenny and Sam Wellstone. It had been in Jenny’s family
for years. Jenny had left for San Francisco back in the 70’s and come back with
her husband to take over the property after her father died. Lindsay didn’t
know them as well as her other neighbors, but she’d seen them in town, at the
county fair, even at church.
She certainly never expected to see Jenny Wellstone looking like something out
of one those magazines her older brother Brian didn’t think she knew he kept in
a box in his closet. All she had on was a lacy black bra, stockings and high
heels. Not even a pair of panties to cover herself. She’s going to freeze to
death, thought Lindsay before her brain registered what was going on.
At first she thought Jenny was holding her hands behind her back, but another
look through the binoculars showed her that Jenny’s arms were tied together
with something.
Lindsay wanted to ride home and tell the police. Obviously, some horrible sex
crime was occurring, just like in the books she read. Jenny was being tortured
by an intruder who was going to do horrible things to her.
Then she saw Sam wearing jeans and a white shirt which was unbuttoned. She
could see his smooth chest. She watched as he embraced his wife and started
kissing her passionately, his hands grabbing at her long, straight blonde hair
to pull her even closer.
The kiss burned Lindsay’s eyes through the binocular lenses. She could see that
even in her exposed state Jenny was no victim. She continued watching, unable
to stop herself, as Sam unbuttoned his Levi’s and pushed his wife to her knees.
The burning in her eyes moved into her cheeks and kept going down until it
reached the space between her legs. She must have accidentally spurred her
horse, because Jasper reared up and whinnied loudly. She barely avoided being
thrown and concentrated on calming her horse and herself. When she looked back
at the house, the sun had moved and she could no longer see what was happening
on the other side of the curtains.
By the time she made her way home, the foal had shown up at the stable of its
own accord. Jimmy took the opportunity to deride her tracking skills and her
fascination with crime and criminology. “Some detective. Can’t even find a lost
foal.” Lindsay blushed, but the color had nothing to do with the jibes of her
bratty younger brother.
The next time she saw them was at the county fair in the spring. Jenny was
sitting in the bleachers watching a cuttin’ horse competition. She wore jeans
and a denim jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail and through the
back of a San Francisco Giants baseball cap. In Lindsay’s mind she was still
clothed only in her undergarments with black silk holding her wrists together
behind her back. The image was so powerful that she could barely speak, but she
had to. She’d gotten a glimpse at another world and she wanted to see more.
“Hi, Mrs. Wellstone.”
“Hello Lindsay, how’s it going? Your mom and dad here?”
Lindsay struggled to find the words to make Jenny Wellstone see her as
something besides Roger and Caroline Monroe’s daughter, the girl next door.
“What’s it like?” she asked, emphasizing the word “like”..
“Excuse me?” replied Jenny, looking confused.
Lindsay looked around before briefly placing her wrists together behind her
back.
“I saw you.”
Jenny’s eyes opened in fear and then tightened in what must have been sheer
terror. Lindsay hurried to explain herself.
“I want to know what that’s like. I want to be there. I want to do it.”
Mrs. Wellstone attempted to talk without moving her lips.
“Are you trying go get us arrested or just killed?”
“No. I want to…”
At the point, Mr. Wellstone showed up with two sno-cones. He also wore typical
western attire. Lindsay could see that he was muscular, but leaner than most of
the men she knew. They’d all started going to fat in their mid-thirties. Sam
Wellstone had a receding hairline, but this just made his face look more mature
and serious. His dark eyes knew things.
Jenny took her husband aside and whispered something. His immediate reaction
matched his wife’s. “Are you crazy?” she heard him hiss. The whispers
continued. Finally, Mr. Wellstone turned and looked at her. She felt as exposed
before his gaze as Jenny had been on her knees in the living room.
“How old are you.”
“Seventeen. That’s legal in this state.”
“Only with another teenager. Do you have any idea what you’re asking for?”
“I think so,”
“You think so?” he made her flinch with his intensity, but never raised his
voice. “This isn’t New York or LA. This is Hingham, Montana and every man in
Hill County has a shotgun. If they even thought I was looking at you funny,
much thinking of something like this…”
“I’m not trying to make trouble.”
“You are trouble, Lindsay. You’re playing with fire.”
“I know,” she whispered, trying to show that she took this seriously.
Sam looked into her eyes, making her shiver in the heat of the day. He must
have seen something there to make him take the enormous risk. Lindsay found her
parents and brother standing in line for the tilt-a-whirl and told them she
gotten sick from eating too much and that Mr. and Mrs. Wellstone were going to
drive her home.
That’s how it started.
The first time they just had her sit and watch as Sam instructed his wife to
undress down to the black, lacy things that had haunted Lindsay’s imagination
for months. She felt the familiar burning in her body as Sam tied his wife’s
hands behind her back with a black silk scarf and put a black leather collar
studded with small jewels around her neck. Oh god. How did I not notice the
collar? she wondered, desperately wanting to feel leather around her own
sensitive neck.
The second time, her hands were tied, but so loosely that she could easily undo
the knots if she wanted to. The sight of the couple kissing held her in place
more tightly than any restraints.
Over the course of the summer, the knots tightened, what she saw grew more
intimate and Lindsay grew to understand what Sam Wellstone meant by playing
with fire. Her body was constantly aware of what she’d seen, what had been done
and how much more she wanted.
Sam never touched her in deference to his marriage and the statutory rape laws
of Montana. It was always Jenny tying her hands and legs, putting on the
blindfolds, touching her, teaching her, always at Sam’s direction.
Sam would talk to her while she was blindfolded telling her how beautiful she
was, what he wanted to do to her, what he wanted others to do while he watched.
She’d find herself squirming to the sound of his voice and begging to have one
hand freed. Instead she was left to squirm and gasp and finally realized she
didn’t even need to touch herself when the stimulus was that powerful.
The last time she saw them was her eighteenth birthday. Lindsay had come
straight from her own birthday party, still wearing a pretty sundress that she
knew would please Sam.
Sam met her at the door in his usual jeans and crisp white shirt. He led her to
the bedroom, which was usually off-limits to her. She hoped this meant he was
now willing to take what she so desperately wanted to give him. Instead he
picked his car keys and said he was going out for a drive. He indicated the bed
where Jenny was lying, this time stark naked, except for the collar and a pair
of handcuffs. They had an old-fashioned four poster and one of her hands was
cuffed to a post.
Sam opened the top drawer of a large dresser. He took out a paddle that Lindsay
had seen him use on Jenny before. Sam handed Lindsay the paddle and the key to
the cuffs. He told her that Jenny was a bad girl. That she was jealous of
Lindsay’s youth and beauty. He was trusting Lindsay to provide discipline.
Or maybe that was the fantasy that Lindsay made up and embellished to keep
herself warm during those long winter nights.
She was starting to sweat inside the ambulance, as they approached the
hospital, even though it was pouring outside.
The Bellevue EMTs traded greetings and paperwork with the PPTH orderlies as
Harvey Park was turned over to his new keepers. Lindsay stayed in the
background watching until everything was hooked up and she was alone with
Harvey, who still wasn’t talking.
Where was House, she wondered, shifting in her not particularly comfortable
chair, during the second hour of her lonely vigil. If he was so sure he could
make Harvey wake up and talk, why wasn’t he in the patient’s room getting on
with it?
“Stay with him,” Mac had instructed and Lindsay had no intention of letting the
boss down, no matter how long it took.
Her mind started wandering back to Montana and a string of disappointing
boyfriends. Young men with cowboy hats, glib smiles and the emotional depth of
a cow patty. They had no clue about her inner fire and she instinctively knew
better than to share it.
Lindsay kept looking into men’s eyes searching for another Sam Wellstone. So
far, she hadn’t found him. Danny was cute, but her flirtation was just a game.
He had his own demons and they could never co-exist with hers.
“Detective Monroe. I see you got our patient here safe and sound”
She looked up at the sound of an Australian accent.
“Hello, Dr. Chase.”
He was wearing a lab coat over a blue shirt and tan slacks. The blonde hair
falling over his forehead still made him look young, but when she looked into
his blue-green eyes, she felt a tug.
She remembered Danny pulling his older brother act. “You need to stay away from
that guy.”
She looked at Dr. Chase again. He was checking monitors and pretending not to
be watching her watching him. She saw possibilities.
“It looks like I’ll be here for awhile. You might as well call me Lindsay.”
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     Snark gratia snark.
House stood by the whiteboard using his cane in place of a microphone as he
addressed the multitude, or at least his captive audience of three.
“Lady and so-called gentlemen, for your diagnostic pleasure, in his long
awaited return to the ICU, let’s give a big PPTH welcome to Harvey Park!”
The team refused to play along. Cameron look stunned, Foreman glowered
suspiciously and Chase was feigning indifference.
House returned the cane to its usual position and leaned on it heavily.
“You call that a welcome? Come on people. If Harvey hears that deafening
silence, he’s gonna walk out on us. Or he would, if he could hear anything or
walk anywhere.”
“Harvey Park?” Foreman repeated. The guy with the infected jaw and the
interesting social life?”
“That’s him.”
“What did his dominatrix friend do to him now?”
“Whatever’s wrong with Harvey this time, I think we can eliminate Annette as
the cause.”
“Why?” Cameron wanted to know, having finally found her voice. She seemed
unhappy with the reappearance of Harvey Park. House and Cameron’s date of doom
had occurred while they were treating Harvey, but it hardly seemed fair to
blame him. House wasn’t proud of his behavior, but it had been the right thing
to do. Cameron was displaying symptoms of growing a spine, which would never
have happened if he hadn’t shattered any illusions she might have had about him
or herself.
House resumed his role as Master of Ceremonies.
“Dr. Cameron wants to know why we can rule out Annette Raines and her vast
array of cunning stunts. Take it away, Dr. Chase.”
He knew that Huey, Dewey and Louie went out of their way not to laugh at his
witticisms. Maybe they considered it a form of rebellion against being at the
beck and call of a madman. This time House detected a twinkle and a barely
suppressed grin on the face of young Dr. Chase.
“Annette Raines was found murdered three days ago,” Chase picked up the tale as
directed. “She and Harvey were living in Manhattan. The police found Harvey’s
medical file in the apartment. When they told Harvey about the murder and tried
to get any information out of him, he told them to call Dr. House. Then he went
catatonic and passed out. Hasn’t said anything since.”
“Coma?” asked Cameron.
Chase shook his head.
“He’s breathing on his own, but that’s about it.”
The light was dawning on Foreman.
“That’s why that cop wanted to find you.”
“Yeah. And you three geniuses led him right to me.” Cameron was clearly about
to protest her innocence. House waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. I had fun
with Joe Friday, Junior. Maybe he’s up for another round. Chase, is Detective
Scruffy down there with the patient?”
“No. The other one. Detective Monroe,” Chase replied, not bothering to comment
on the hypocrisy of House calling anyone else scruffy.
“Does this one know how to shave?”
“I dunno. This one’s a woman.”
This time, House was positive about Chase twinkling, but he didn’t know if
Chase was happy about knowing something House didn’t or about the fact of the
lady cop."
“So, more like Cagney or more like Lacey?”
Chase stared in confusion. Either he was too young or too Australian.
“OK, people. Let’s go?”
“Where?” asked Foreman, perplexed.
“Down to see the patient, of course. Gotta say ‘Hi Harvey, how’s tricks? Still
getting off on pain and humiliation? I thought so.’"
“But he’s catatonic,” Cameron pointed out. “He can’t tell us anything.”
“Well then he can’t lie to us, can he?” The three blind mice were staring at
him as though he’d just stepped of a space ship and said 'Klaatu Barata Nikto'
“Maybe I just want to meet a chick with a gun and handcuffs.” House planted the
cane and took a firm step forward. “Come on kids. It’s show time.”
On the way to the elevator, Wilson joined them for no apparent reason.
House led his merry band to Harvey’s room in ICU, where they found Harvey still
not talking. He was being watched by a blonde woman. Her posture in the chair
reflected boredom and fatigue. She snapped to attention at the sound of House’s
cane and turned around to face the group.
Young and pretty, House thought. A little too all-American-girl for his jaded
tastes, but certainly worth taking a look at.
He stared at her with a goofy, open-mouthed gape of pseudo-lust, deliberately
holding it long enough to annoy Cameron, Chase and maybe even Wilson, although
not the subject of the gaze, who appeared to take it stride.
“Wow. I was wrong. It’s not Cagney or Lacey. It’s Pepper Anderson.”
The blonde nodded, but didn’t get offended or flustered. She’d heard it before.
“You must be Dr. House.”
“I’m much taller in person. Everybody says it.”
“And that’s Dr. Foreman and Dr. Cameron. I’ve already met Dr. Chase. And
that’s…?”
Wilson charged forward to introduce himself. That figured. Just his type.
Female and breathing.
“I’m Dr. Wilson. I run the oncology department.”
“You think he has cancer?” she asked, clearly skeptical.
“Gotta check every possibility,” House assured her, before dispatching the team
on various errands including more blood work, reflex tests and scheduling a CAT
Scan.
He kept one eye on Pepper, noting how smoothly she managed to stay out of the
way, while observing the hubbub of activity that had broken out around her. He
approved, but that didn’t mean she was avoiding a full-scale House-party
either.
“So, Detective, what happened? Your bully boys get over-enthusiastic with their
nightsticks? Taser? Brass knuckles?”
She ignored him with a barely perceptible tightening of the jaw.
“Do you think you can get him talking?”
“I can get him better. Whether he wants to talk to you is his business.”
House noticed that Pepper was smiling past him, practically twinkling. Probably
at Wilson, he thought with a mixture of pride and mild envy.
At that moment, Foreman returned with Wilson right behind him.
“OK, we’ve got the CAT scan scheduled. Let’s get him up to C.T.”
Wilson gave House a nod as if to say “nothing more I can do here.” although
House wasn’t sure if he was giving up on Harvey Park or Policewoman.
If she hadn’t been twinkling at Wilson, then who was the lucky recipient?
Foreman and Chase were getting Harvey’s bed ready to move and Detective
Whatsername seemed awfully interested. As they wheeled Harvey out the room,
House caught Chase stealing a parting glance at Police Woman, complete with a
shy adolescent smile.
House felt a malicious grin creeping across his face. Pepper and Chase. Blonde
and Blonder. The possibilities for amusement spread out before him like the
buffet at a Jewish wedding.
Police Woman took a step to leave. House put down the cane to block her.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced.
“He’s not waking up during a CT scan.”
“Is he waking up at all?” she challenged.
“Fifty bucks says he’s talking in twenty-four hours.”
“You’re betting on a patient’s recovery?”
House relished the outrage in her eyes. She was even flaring her nostrils in
indignation. Awesome. He shoots. He scores.
“I know about you.”
“From your partner or my foot soldier with the funny accent?”
“Either way. I know you’re supposed to be brilliant, but you have the social
skills of a baboon.”
“And what do you think, Pepper?”
“Are you going to let me go to CT?”
House moved aside with a great show of deference.
“I think you’re going to start calling me Detective Monroe.” She walked to
door, before turning around, with a smile. “And I think it’s going to more than
twenty-four hours for you to re-run all the tests they did at Bellevue, because
you think that doctors other than yourself are idiots. So I’ll take your bet.”
House watched her leave. Feisty He liked that. He reached for the Vicodin in
his pocket, more out of habit than need. This was turning out to be a good day.
He now had the challenge of getting Harvey talking in twenty-four hours, so he
could win the bet and the opportunity to torture Chase and Detective Monroe
about their attraction to eachother, especially if they weren’t completely
aware of it yet.
He stared at the Vicodin and finally decided to take it so that one of his
babies wouldn’t feel rejected.
They’d make a cute couple, he thought vaguely. At least their numbers would
match up. And they did seem to have chemistry.
Chemistry That was it. The heck with Chase’s love life. He needed to order some
more labs on Harvey. Chemistry would answer everything.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     Here come da smut!
Lindsay gaped at her watch. 1:25AM. She could barely make it out, barely keep
her eyes open. Come on, Detective Monroe. You can do this. She tried to pep
talk herself using Mac’s stern voice. That worked for all of five minutes
before her eyelids started fluttering again.
The next time she opened them, Dr Chase was checking Harvey’s monitors and
writing something on a chart. Then he yawned.
“Please don’t do that. If you yawn, then I’m going to yawn, and if I yawn, I’ll
close my eyes and…”
“Lindsay, listen to me. Nothing is going to happen here tonight.”
“Where’s House?”
“He went home hours ago. He’s ordered extra niacin, potassium and iron, plus
electrolytes.”
Lindsay tried to make sense of that.
“He thinks Harvey’s problem is malnutrition?”
“I dunno. House has that look like he knows something, but we’re all too stupid
to bother telling.”
Lindsay nodded until she felt a yawn wracking her entire body.
“Have you had anything to eat?” Robert asked.
“Apple. Couple of hours ago. I just need some caffeine.”
“No,” he said firmly, “You need food and sleep. Doctor’s orders.” His voice was
firm, but the smile cut through her protests. “Tell you what, there’s an all-
night Mexican place out on the interstate.”
“Mexican food in New Jersey?” Lindsay was dubious.
“I didn’t say it was good. I just said it was cheap, fast and open all night.”
“If Danny were here he’d make a dirty joke.”
“So would House, but he’s not here, so let’s go.”
After a taco salad and large diet Coke, Lindsay felt immeasurably better. Since
she was pre-occupied with Dr. Robert Chase sitting on the other side of a
dangerously rickety table, she decided to ignore the hookers and tweakers
occupying the other tables.
She gave herself permission to focus on Robert’s accent, his sweet smile, and
the way he was not quite looking at her as he chewed on the straw from his own
beverage. Then the diet Coke kicked in and she remembered Mac saying, “Stay
with him.”
“I should really get back,” she murmured.
“I’d like to see you try,” he challenged.
“My boss said…”
“Is your boss a jerk?”
“No. That would be your boss,” she pointed out. “Mac expects a lot from his
people, but he lets us do our jobs without demeaning us or treating us like
crap. Why do you put up with that?”
Robert looked down as if he’d find the answer in a half-eaten quesadilla.
“He’s a brilliant doctor.”
“That gives him the right to be abusive?”
“He’s in pain.”
“Mac Taylor’s wife was in Tower 1 on 9/11. She didn’t get out. He lives with
that every day and still manages to treat his employees with dignity.”
He looked into her eyes, even though he had no answer but a shrug. His right
hand was inches away from hers on the table. She wrapped her fingers around his
wrist and grasped firmly.
“Maybe you’re just a masochist.” She said, drawing out the last word teasingly.
She heard Robert take a deep breath.
“Maybe you are too?” he asked with a curious rising inflection.
“Tell me about Annette,” she continued in her playful tone, sliding her left
hand against his, until her fingers were lying on his arm, just under the cuff
of his shirt.
“Is this an interrogation, Detective Monroe?”
“It’s a conversation, Dr. Chase.”
“I think it’s a seduction, Lindsay.”
She turned his right hand over and placed hers on top of it.
“But who’s seducing whom, Robert?” He took control of her hands, squeezing
gently, until it was Lindsay’s turn to need an extra breath. “Everybody we
talked to liked Annette. Grown men cried when we told them she was dead. You’d
think someone who made a living out of pain would have an enemy and we couldn’t
find any. I need to know why not.”
“For your boss?”
“For me. No notebook, no tapes and I’m probably too tired to remember anything
you tell me anyway.”
“That must be how you get your murder confessions.” He held her hands tightly.
“Annette could read people, make them accept things about themselves.”
“What did you have to accept?”
Robert bit down on his lower lip, but held her gaze.
“I had to get it through my thick skull that only a masochist would be in a
relationship with Louise, because she was completely controlling me even when I
was the one inflicting pain. Annette called me a bottom in top’s boots. A bit
of S&M humor, that was.” Robert’s smile was rueful.
She tried to show him that she wasn’t scared or offended. Under the table, her
legs were pressed together tightly. “I had some sessions with her. She hurt me
just enough to teach me what I could and couldn’t stand and that I needed to
get away from Louise before we destroyed each other.”
“Wow!” Lindsay was lost in arousal and admiration. She could almost feel
herself falling for the dead woman.
“But there was something else.”
“What?” Lindsay’s palms were sweating. Robert didn’t seem to notice.
“There was this scary bloke named Bernard. I used to see him at the parties
sometimes. Boots. Leathers. He looked like he could break you in two and throw
the bits away with one hand. I went to Annette’s for a session and Bernard was
there. So I thought, this is it. This bastard's gonna have his way with me and
there’s nothing I can do about it. I was shaking like a leaf.”
Lindsay felt a tremor go through her body, especially her hands. Robert must
have felt it and understood what she’d been trying to tell him, why she wanted
to hear this.
“What did he do to you?”
“Better to ask what I did to him,” Robert said with a dangerous grin. “Annette
said Bernard needed punishment and she wanted me to help.”
“Oh my god,” Lindsay closed her eyes tightly.
“I made him scream,” Robert practically crooned, drawing out the word “scream”
until Lindsay thought she’d pass out then and there.
“Your place,” she managed to whisper. Her mouth was dry, but her panties felt
wet enough to mop the New Jersey Turnpike.
*****
It was all she could do to keep her hands off Robert or herself during the
drive to his apartment. She kept thinking of his voice when he said the word
“scream” and how much she’d wanted to reach up and brush the hair out of his
face, but didn’t because she couldn’t bear to break the contact with his hands.
Now she sat on her own hands, eyes tightly shut, living her own “tied to a
chair fantasy” envisioning what Robert was going to do to her.
Her usual sane, reasonable self tried to ask what the hell she thought she was
doing, opening herself up this way to a man she barely knew, and found itself
shouted down by a chorus of lust surging through her bloodstream.
Lindsay had no idea where she was when they got out of the car. There was a
door and stairs and another door and finally Robert’s arms around her, pulling
them together, and soft lips and a tongue invading her mouth.
She let him half-lead, half-carry her to the bedroom, both of them shedding
clothes along the way. A fleeting thought Danny, if you could see “Montana”
now. and then she was in Robert’s bed, naked, hotter than she could remember
being in her whole life. She threw her arms over her head, wrists together to
make sure he understood.
“How much do you need?” he asked gently.
“Restraints. Words. No marks.”
“Safe word?”
She thought a second. “Fire.”
He used his tie to bind her wrists in the same position she’d been holding
them.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
She complied, every inch of her body vibrating. She sensed the weight of Robert
getting into the bed and then he was on top of her, kissing her as though he
could feast on her mouth forever. She’d said “no marks”, but the taste of him,
the feeling of those soft lips nibbling hers over and over, would mark her more
deeply than any bruises. When he left her mouth to start tracing a row of
kisses down her neck, she groaned with frustration.
“Shall I put something else in there?” She could hear the smile in his voice,
but groaned even more at the idea.
When his lips clamped over her nipple and his tongue started swirling against
the most sensitive spot, she let out a squeal of delight, waves of pleasure
coursing through her body, as she arched up wanting more.
Robert immediately withdrew.
“You need to show some self-control. Can’t have you hitting the jackpot till I
say so.” His voice was matter-of-fact, with the hint of a threat. “Can you
behave or not?”
She nodded, straining against the tie, squirming in the bed, desperate to feel
him near her again.
“Say it.”
“I’ll be good.”
“All right. Let’s try it again.”
This time it was her left nipple, his lips, tongue and teeth working together
until her legs started thrashing and she couldn’t hold back a scream.
Again, he backed off, leaving her body yearning.
“What am I going to do with you Lindsay?” He lay beside her,, grasping her by
the shoulders until her breathing had slowed down and her body had stopped
shaking. “Badbadbadbad girl,” he muttered, kissing his way down her body,
moving between her legs, spreading her open.
When his mouth touched her there, she couldn’t hold back. No pretense of
control. Just her body exploding and Chase staying at it, his tongue pushing
her harder, faster and over the edge into a screaming orgasm that left her
throat raw and her body humming as if an electric current were going through
it.
She was vaguely aware of Robert pulling himself up and entering her, triggering
a second rush of sensation before the first one had even subsided. She wrapped
her legs around his back, thrusting up against him, hoping he was getting as
much pleasure as she had, but doubting it was possible.
She heard him calling her name, groaning into her, around her, on top of her,
until she screamed out “Robert,” and some other things she couldn’t remember.
He collapsed on top of her, asking if she was OK, which struck her as odd until
she realized she was laughing and crying at the same time. It seemed to take
forever before she could stop doing either one. Eventually, she was just
smiling and wondered if she’d ever be able to get that particular smile off her
face.
She opened her eyes to find Robert untying her hands and massaging the insides
of her wrists. She made a grab for the tie. He jerked it just out of reach. She
grabbed for it again. He pulled it back, dangling it over her body, running it
against her skin, soothing instead of teasing. Finally he let her catch the
tie, but then pretended to try and take it back. She held on tightly and he
finally let her have it for keeps. Lindsay chuckled, as she scrunched the tie
in one hand.
She instinctively pressed herself around Robert’s warm skin. Now she could
reach out and touch his hair, which seemed to fall in his eyes, no matter what
position he was in. Now she could get some sleep. But she couldn’t.
Gotta get up. Gotta go. Mac said to stay with him. Her body had other ideas. It
wanted to stay near Robert and get the rest it had been deprived of for over
thirty-six hours. Maybe a little nap would be OK.
She wanted to say something to Robert, before she drifted into blissful sleep,
but couldn’t remember what it was. Oh yeah, something about playing with fire.
She’d have to tell him later.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Summary
     The party's over. Things get weird.
Harvey was ready to talk.
He’d been awake, and alert, listening to the sounds around him for hours. He
knew he was in a hospital, but he didn’t know where. He knew time had gone by,
but not how much. He didn’t know how many days he had been shuttling between
awake and asleep and that scary place in between.
Annette. They said Annette was dead. Murdered. They wanted to ask questions. He
hadn’t been able to talk then. He’d gone somewhere inside himself so he
wouldn’t have to talk to the nasty policeman who looked at him with so much
disgust. Just like his parents.
He remembered voices from one of the awake times. The same voices from when he
was sick before. He’d heard the black doctor and Dr. House. He knew he was
supposed to ask for Dr. House if something went wrong. He thought he’d been
able to get it out before he went inside. Since he’d heard Dr. House, he must
have done it. Annette would be proud of him.
He’d heard other voices. The doctor with the accent. And a woman. Not just the
sad doctor. Another woman. She had come to the office with the mean cop, so she
must be a policewoman. Dr. House had been making fun of her and making a bet.
Harvey smiled inside, but none of his muscles moved.
He was ready to talk, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. He strained to open his
eyes. He tried to get his mouth to move or make a sound. He tried all night and
nothing happened except making himself so tired, he went to sleep again and
then ended up in the scary place and wasn’t sure he’d ever get out.
Harvey woke up again. He felt better. He was ready to talk. He tried to open
his mouth. Still nothing. But he felt stronger. He had to keep trying. He heard
voices. The Australian accent and the policewoman. I need to talk to you. He
still couldn’t get it out. All he could do was listen.
“How are you feeling today?”
“As they would say on the ranch, like I was rode hard and put away wet.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Normally bad. But if you’ve got the right rider…”
Harvey was confused. This didn’t sound like the conversation for a doctor and
policewoman to be having in a hospital. Especially not when the woman started
giggling. Then there was whispering and more giggling.
“And how’s our friend Harvey today?”
“Nothing. Still nothing. I’ve been here since noon. Thanks so much for letting
me oversleep.”
“You needed it.”
“I told you to wake me up.”
“Doesn’t look like you missed anything. Let’s see how the patient’s doing.
Hmmmm.”
He could hear the doctor approaching. He knew that the little light was being
flashed in his eyes. He didn’t see or feel it. He just knew it.
“What’s “hmmmm”?”
“I’m not sure. His stats are up. I should go tell House.”
“Did he bitch you out for being late?”
“I wasn’t that late. And I got lucky. He was more interested in fighting with
his ex-girlfriend.”
“What’s she doing here anyway?”
“It’s a long story.”
Why wasn’t Dr. Chase going to tell Dr. House about his stats? Why was the
policewoman giggling again.
“You really should have woken me up.”
“I told you…”
“But I told you, Doctor…”
“And what are you going to do about it, Detective?”
“I think you need to bend over and grab your ankles so I can show you.”
“Oh my god. Say that again. Just like that.”
!!!!!!!
“You’ve been very naughty. I want you to bend over and grab your ankles, so I
can punish you.”
Harvey almost felt the spank before he heard the sound. His eyes snapped open.
He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light. The young doctor was
bent over, hair falling in his face, grabbing his ankles as he’d been told.
Just like me after all. The police woman using only her hand on his clothed
backside. He could almost hear Annette calling her an amateur. He smiled and
watched, enjoying the show. The policewoman’s face was flushed with exertion
and excitement. He couldn’t see the doctor’s face, but he could hear the
groaning.
The policewoman looked up and caught him staring. She stared back,
disbelieving, then frightened. “Oh my god, Chase!”
“What? Don’t stop now.”
“Chase. Get up. It’s Harvey.”
“What?”
“He’s awake, he’s looking at us.”
“Bloody hell. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Dr. Chase got himself upright and came to his bed to shine lights in Harvey’s
eyes. He tried to brush the doctor away. His arms worked. His hands worked. His
eyes worked. Could he talk?
“Detective. I’m ready to talk.” Harvey heard himself speak. “I can talk. I want
to talk to you. I know what you want to know. I can talk.” He was so happy. He
would keep talking just to hear himself. To make sure he didn’t go to the scary
place again
“OK, Harvey. I’m here. What do you know about who would want to kill Annette?
She was all business now, with her notebook and pen. He told her about his
parents and the phone calls and the threats and the man he’d seen outside the
apartment.
“But why was your medical file in the apartment.”
“Annette kept it to remind me. I wanted her to choke me again. She would make
me look at what happened. The pictures. I still wanted her to do it. She
wouldn’t.”
“OK, Harvey. You rest.” Harvey wanted to tell her that he’d rested enough, but
now he had to talk. She went into the hallway to make a call. Dr. Chase came
back into the room. Maybe he could talk to him, now that Harvey knew how much
they had in common.
“How are you feeling, Harvey?”
“OK. Better. What did Dr. House do this time?”
“Pumped you full of nutrients mostly. I don’t understand it, but it must have
worked. We’ll probably need to keep you a while for observation and neurology
will want to look you over…Dr. Chase paused, clearly embarrassed. “Harvey,
about what you saw…”
Harvey used every bit of his newly found muscle control to wink at him.
@@@@@
Lindsay was tired, but exhilarated when she returned to the lab.
“Good work, Detective,” Mac told her, with a tight smile, which was equivalent
to a parade with a brass band down Fifth Avenue, as far as she was concerned.
Danny insisted on a high-five and a hug.
“Good going, Montana. We sent the Philly detectives in on the parents and they
folded like a paper dragon. They claim they just told the guy to rough up
Annette enough to scare her and make her throw Harvey out, so he’d go running
home and be a good boy, and then things got out of hand. Jeez. They had to know
that if something happened to Annette, Harvey would lose it. I can’t understand
going after someone you’re supposed to love just because they happen to be a
bit…you know, different.”
Lindsay shook her head wondering when Danny had become the spokesperson for
peace, love and understanding.
Flack came over with a notepad in his hand.
“Hey you guys. We’ve got a d.b. in an elevator at the Mandarin Oriental. Let’s
go.”
So much for the parade. Another night; another body.
She was satisfied with her work on the Annette Raines case, even though she was
out fifty bucks to Dr. House. He’d come limping down the hall followed by the
rest of his lost souls and that smarmy Dr. Wilson, waving his watch in the air
to let her know that Harvey had woken up less that twenty four hours after
they’d made the bet. She wondered if there was any way to expense the money,
since she hadn’t wound up needing a hotel room.
She felt a blush come to her cheek and hoped Danny didn’t notice the smile. She
reached into her pocket and touched the silk with a silent sigh. She still had
Dr. Chase’s tie to remind her that it hadn’t been a dream.
@@@@@
 
Chase sensed trouble in the air. He knew House had lost interest in Harvey once
his bet was won. There was no new patient and House was bored. A bored House
was a dangerous House, especially for a doctor who’d gotten away with coming in
nearly twenty minutes late only because Stacy Warner had barged into the office
before House could commence a full-scale interrogation. Now House had the ball
out and was tossing it up in the air, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it.
The clock said 4:45PM. House couldn’t risk venturing out of the office, for
fear of Cuddy and her clinic of horrors. The three hostages were stuck with
him. The ball kept going higher. On the next toss, House managed to turn on his
iPod before catching it. The bastard's toying with me, he thought, trying to
focus on the New York Times crossword, even though the words kept blurring into
sweaty visions of himself and Lindsay. He didn’t think Harvey had said
anything, but House had that damn intuition.
Roger Daltrey's voice came blasting out of the speakers.
Out here in the fields. I fought for my meals. I put my back into my living.
I am so sick of this bloody song. How about some AC/DC for a change? If
anyone’s on the highway to hell, it’s House.
The ball went up and hit the ceiling, which caused a change in the trajectory.
House wasn’t able to get himself out the chair fast enough to intercept it. The
ball bounced in and out of the sink and went rolling under a cabinet. House
looked around the room at his prisoners as if to say “Well isn’t one of you
going to fetch the ball for me?” Foreman rolled his eyes in disgust. Cameron
clearly had to restrain herself from getting up to do it. She was still ga-ga
over House, but attempting to act like someone with a spine. That left Chase,
he grudgingly got up as if being more subservient would forestall the
inevitable.
“You did the police chick, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“Banged her like an oven door. Had carnal knowledge. Shtupped. Danced the
horizontal mambo. Made the sign of the beast with two backs.”
“Would it be any of your business if I did?” Chase tried to put on a show of
outrage.
“As a matter of fact, it would. Why do think I gave you so much alone time with
the patient and the babe?”
“Because you respect my medical skills?”
“Yeah, right. Even Foreman’s trying not to choke on that one.”
A quick glance at Foreman proved this to be true.
“What then?”
“I figured the best way to get Harvey to wake up was to put the sounds of sex
somewhere in his vicinity, preferable something nasty.”
Cameron was getting that “Oh my god, I’m going to puke” look last seen after
Chase had admitted to kissing Andie.
“And what makes you think…”
“It’s all chemistry, Casanova. I figured if I left you alone with Pepper long
enough, something would happen and you’d win my bet for me.”
“What about all those vitamins and electrolytes?” Foreman wanted to know.
“That was plan B. I wanted to beef him up a bit, but I was counting on Don Juan
here to do the real work for me. So what kind of peep show did the lucky
patient wake up to? Were you wearing the nurse’s uniform again? Something with
rubber gloves?” House raised his eyebrows and practically rubbed his hands
together in lewd delight.
Tell me again why I put up with this crap? You were right, Lindsay. I must be a
masochist. But I was right too. He is brilliant. And right now I think he’s
bluffing. Brilliantly.
“Come on, Chase.” He pleaded mockingly. Inquiring minds want to know.” He
changed to a stern father voice. “Don’t make me spank it out of you.”
Chase checked his watch. 5:00PM. He walked to the door and turned around
beaming his most innocent smile at House, Cameron and Foreman who all leaned
forward as if he were actually going to reveal something.
“Promises, promises.” He said, and walked away.
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