Title: Talk is Cheap

Author: Goddessof7s

Summary: What was Chase’s interview like

Rating: G

Notes: AU sequel to Ears and Eyes Thanks So much to the Wonderful Bella for making this story all that it could be!

Series: Sense and sensibility 2

Warnings: Pre-slash House/Chase, really not so much now but maybe some day. Cross posted to house slash, house-chase and house fanfiction

Cameron stood in front of her new boss's desk, vaguely aware that her mouth was hanging open. After a few days working in diagnostics, she'd started to realize that she was acting like a child who wouldn't share her toys. She'd decided that Dr. House having other fellows wasn't anything against her – something against Chase, maybe, seeing that he'd been there first – but the fact remained that the competition for this job had been intense, and she'd made it. She was proud – and despite her initial fears, she was learning. Cameron knew herself well enough to know that sometimes she could be uncompromising. She'd gotten it into her head that it would just be her and Dr House, and when it didn't turn out that way, she'd behaved stupidly. She resolved to behave better in future – she just hoped that she hadn't already alienated everyone with her off-putting behavior.

But one thing had still been bothering her. Chase's joking about the department never having patients had turned out to be true. Dr House never seemed to do anything. Chase did crosswords, the occasional phone consult and helped out in the ICU. Why had Dr. House hired her, and Foreman? There didn't seem to be a need for them. Cameron had been spending her days sorting Dr House's mail, and working through the very large backlog of consult requests. Foreman had spent half a day sitting in the conference room, reading medical texts and loudly complaining about the lack of work, before disappearing into the clinic. He'd told her that anything was better than doing nothing. So, finally, Cameron had ventured into Dr House's office, and asked him why Foreman and herself had been hired.

“So,” Cameron said, once she'd reestablished control of her vocal cords. “You hired us because there was room in the hospital's budget for two more fellows. And you chose Foreman because he has a juvenile record. And you chose me...because I'm pretty.” In the back of her mind, Cameron knew that, a few days ago, she might have been happy at the idea of Dr House finding her pretty. Now, she was outraged. She'd worked hard to get here!

“Well, yes,” House was saying. “See, there's something about beautiful women. People give them things because they're beautiful. They don't need to work hard to get what they want. They look nice, so people give them whatever they want. But you...” he swung his legs off the desk and looked at her intently, “you didn't take that route. You worked that cute little butt of yours off to get where you are. I'd like to find out why.”

Cameron realized that her mouth was hanging open again. She gulped. “I worked...but I...I'm a good doctor! How can...you...” she fumbled.

House sighed, then looked at her seriously. “That's right, you are a good doctor....I don't hire people just because they're pretty. If you'd been pretty, and dumber than dirt, you wouldn't be standing there.” He levered himself to his feet, apparently bored with the conversation. “Don't worry your pretty lil head about it!” He headed for the door.

“Why'd you hire Chase?” Cameron asked suddenly. House stopped, and looked back at her.

“Why do you think?”

“Because...” she considered. “Because he's deaf. And that makes him interesting.”

House inclined his head briefly, before turning and leaving the room. Cameron leant against his desk, deep in thought, doing her best to ignore the warm little glow she felt because Dr House had said she was beautiful. She'd resolved not to act like a child, and she intended to keep that promise. A schoolgirl crush was the last thing she needed. She sighed. Working here was turning out to be a lot more...interesting...than she could have hoped.

House walked down the corridor, no particular destination in mind...just walking. He was glad that Cameron had answered her own question. That way, he hadn't had to lie. Truth was, it wasn't Chase's deafness that had made him intriguing. It was just...everything about him. He could recall the interview with perfect clarity.

House settled himself into his chair more comfortably. He'd finally cracked the tenth level of this game – and in doing so, beaten his old highest score. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed his latest interviewee. He'd figured that this Robert Chase had counted on coasting into the job on the strength of his name. With that in mind, he'd decided to have some fun with this interview, and made a bet with himself that young Chase would storm out of the room after two minutes of his prospective boss ignoring him in favor of his gameboy. It appeared, however, that the man was made of sterner stuff. He'd walked in, introduced himself, and settled into the chair opposite House, not batting an eye as the tinny music started up. That had been ten minutes ago, and it looked like Chase was willing to wait for however long it took for this little test to be over. Suddenly, House's avatar screamed as pink light erupted from his chest. Damn. He'd run out of lives, too. Oh well. May as well get this interview over with.

“Dr Chase,” he said, putting his gameboy down as he swung his legs off the desk and sat up in his chair. Chase looked at him inquiringly. “Why did you apply for this job?”

Chase shifted in his chair a little, and said, “I've applied pretty much everywhere.”

Well, that was a little different. People usually went on at irritating length about how much they wanted to work for him. House idly spun his chair from side to side. “What's your favorite sandwich?”

Chase blinked. “Turkey, tomato, sprouts and vegemite on wholemeal.”

House appreciated the answer; it showed attention to detail, as well as a willingness to answer a question that seemed unrelated to the topic at hand. He needed people who would think outside the square. He picked his grey-and-red ball up from the desk, and swung his chair around, tossing the ball into the air. “What, no cheese?”

There was a moment of silence, then Chase said, “I'm sorry, sir, but I can't read your lips if you're not facing me.” From the tone of his voice, he really wanted to add 'you idiot' to the end of that statement.

House swung his chair back around, his eyebrows creeping towards his hairline. “You're deaf?”

Chase looked baffled. “You didn't know? I told Dr Cuddy when I arranged the interview.”

House sighed, and contemplated the ceiling in annoyance. “No, she didn't see fit to inform me. How do you propose to diagnose patients when you can't hear?”

Chase snorted. “I'm deaf, not stupid.” He held up a hand to cut House off when he would have spoken. “Yes, there are some things I can't do, but for everything else, I've adapted. I wouldn't be a doctor if I thought my disability would endanger my patients.”

House narrowed his eyes consideringly. “Okay. Let's put that to the test.” He stood and made for the door, Chase rising to follow him.

“What do you mean?”

House turned back to him. “I've just decided to make this a working interview.”

He smirked, and Chase looked at him askance. “Very well. Lead the way.”

Aboard the silent elevator, House decided that one good thing about having a deaf colleague would be that he wouldn't be obliged to engage in pointless conversation. And he would have great fun insulting the man behind his back. Literally. They entered the clinic, and House shuddered minutely, thankful that Cuddy wasn't here to see him voluntarily enter this lair of hypochondriacal idiots. He would never have lived it down. She probably would've declared him possessed – although, undoubtedly, in her opinion, that would only improve his disposition.

His current excuse for avoiding this cursed place was that he was allergic to the vinyl of the clinic seating. So far, she hadn't called him on the lie, though she had to know it was one. Since he was there anyway, he kept an eye out for something else he could be allergic to, for when his current gig was up. Maybe he could say that he was allergic to stupid people?

He snapped out of his reverie when a nurse approached, and looked at him questioningly. He put his finger to his lips in an exaggerated shushing motion, then turned to Chase. “No peeking now!” He grasped the other doctor's shoulders, and spun him so his back was turned. To the nurse, he said, “I need a patient with a cough, preferably productive.”

The nurse, obviously astonished that he was asking for a clinic patient, hastily thumbed through some charts, before passing him one with a hopeful smile. Heh, though House. Don't think this is the beginning of a trend. He spun Chase to face him again. “Come along, Dorothy, we have a plane to catch!”

“House...” Chase sounded annoyed. “You're mixing your....well, I don't know what it is you're mixing, but it's something.”

“Ah ah ah!” House chided. “No backing out now! Mr. Sakellaris, would you please stand up?”

He gestured to the elderly man who stood. “And we have a winner! Follow us to exam three, where you can claim your lovely prize.”

Looking doubtful, the man followed them into the room, and sat on the bed.

“Mr Sakellaris, I'm Dr. House, this is Dr. Chase, and I'm afraid I lied to you. You see, Chase here is the one who's going to get the prize...that is if he diagnoses you correctly.” He glared at Chase, then gestured expansively at the now anxious looking man. “Well, go on!” He backed up and leaned against the door, snapping the file out of Chase's reach. “I told you! No peeking!”

Chase sighed, then smiled reassuringly at the patient. He simply stood and observed for a moment, seemingly preparing a method of attack, before reaching out to pull up one of the patient's trouser legs, while also extending one of the man's arms out to observe the movement. Mr Sakellaris, it seemed, hadn't been reassured by Chase's smile. “Doctor? Doctor!”

Chase was frowning down at the man's ankles, and didn't respond. From the corner, House said, “Oh, didn't I mention it? He's deaf. No need to worry though, I'm sure he's got it all under control!”

Coughing, Mr Sakellaris stared down at where Chase was prodding at his ankle, and visibly restrained himself from bolting. House sighed happily. The only thing that could make this better was popcorn. He popped some Vicodin instead, then abruptly straightened as Chase stood and pressed his left ear over the patient's heart, one hand loosely resting on his throat. Oh. Oh! Looked like Chase got the prize after all, because he was so hired.

Chase turned to face him. “He has congestive heart failure.”

House dropped his chin to his chest, and regarded Chase. “Explain.”

“His socks are too tight, indicating peripheral edema; the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the way he's breathing exclusively from the mouth indicates that he's short of breath, and there is also a wet cough, indicating fluid in the lungs. His shirt is also too tight, from either recent sudden weight gain or abdominal swelling.”

House smiled. “You're right. You're also hired.”

Chase grinned, and House felt...something, but before he could define it, Mr Sakellaris said, “But what about me?”

“Oh, not to worry,” House said blithely. “Someone will be in with you shortly.”

Dismissing the patient from his mind – congestive heart failure was boring – he returned to the nurses station and tossed the file on the desk. “Enlighten me. What's the difference in vibration between a dry cough and a wet cough?”

Chase smiled secretively. “It’s not the vibrations from the chest to feel for, but the ones from the throat.”

Ever since he'd hired Chase, House had been trying to get that trick right, but he still couldn't tell the difference. Abruptly, he stopped walking, realising with horror that he was standing outside the clinic. He did an abrupt about face before anyone could try and get him to talk to the stupid people.

Of course, what House didn't like admitting, even to himself, was that the thing he most remembered about the interview had been the sudden, blinding brilliance of Chase's grin, and the way his warm, firm muscles had flexed when House had reached out to gain his attention. Sometimes, he felt as if Chase's adapted powers of observation were seeing right through him. It was uncomfortable; he didn't like the idea of anyone seeing past the joker, not since....well. If nothing else, it was interesting.