HI EVERYONE!

JUST GOT THE IDEA FOR THIS TODAY.

IT'S A ONE- SHOT WITH HOUSE, WILSON AND CHASE AND TAKES PLACE IN SEASON 6.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS AND ENJOY!! :D

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS

It was around 7:30 on Christmas Eve and House was sitting at his desk in his dimly lit office, wearing his reading glasses and drowning himself in paperwork, trying not to think of Cuddy spending a Norman Rockwell- esque Christmas with Lucas and Rachel.

Wilson opened the glass door to House's office and popped his head inside.

"Are were ordering?" he asked.

House glanced up from his paperwork.

"Where's your moose hat?" he asked.

"I only wear that to the party and we're not going this year," Wilson replied.

House nodded once and signed off on the chart he had been working on. Wilson watched his friend get up from his chair and start to gather his things.

"We can tell them to deliver," Wilson suggested, entering his office.

"Food's always cold by the time it arrives. We'll wait there for it," House replied.

"Ok," Wilson said with a shrug.

As House continued to pack up his stuff into his backpack, Wilson glanced through the glass doors of the conference room and noticed that Chase was sitting at the table alone, surrounded by patients' charts.

"What's he still doing here?" Wilson asked, jutting his head in the direction of the conference room.

"He asked for something to do," House replied, zipping up his backpack.

"… So you gave him something to do," Wilson commented with disdain.

House shrugged. "Paperwork's not gonna do itself."

"And you think that's a good way for him to spend Christmas Eve?" Wilson asked him accusingly.

House glanced into the conference room. Chase was diligently checking over the charts and insurance documentation of former patients. Chase raked his fingers through the front of his hair, which was now cut drastically short. House suspected he still wasn't used to the new style.

"Better that than spending Christmas the way he spent Thanksgiving," House replied.

"How did he spend Thanksgiving?" Wilson asked, furrowing his brow.

"Don't know. Neither does he," House told him.

Wilson glanced through the glass again with concern.

"He's been drinking?" Wilson asked.

"Not at work," House said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"But after work," Wilson clarified.

House nodded. "You ready? The roads are icy."

Wilson nodded slowly, still looking through the glass at Chase as House breezed past him to exit his office.

"You know… we always order too much food…" Wilson began.

"…And we never eat the leftovers. We always wind up throwing 'em away—" he continued.

"No way," House stated flatly.

"Why not?"

House tsked. "Because… I see him enough at work," he replied, knowing it was a lame excuse.

"So you'd rather him drown his sorrows in a bottle?" Wilson demanded.

"I don't care what he does," House muttered.

"Then why did you hire him back?" Wilson posed.

"That was pure selfishness. I wanted him on my TEAM. Not in my HOME," House said in annoyance.

"It's my home, too," Wilson reminded him, placing his hands on his hips.

House tapped the bottom of his cane a few times against the floor, knowing that he didn't have a good enough reason to make Wilson change his mind.

"Fine. But YOU ask him," House told him with an eyeroll.

"You ask him and I'll excuse you from your share of next month's bills," Wilson offered.

House arched his eyebrow.

"…Including cable?" he asked.

"Including cable," Wilson assured him.

Thinking about how much On Demand porn he was going to order over the next thirty days, House pushed open the glass doors to the conference room and stuck his head in.

"You like Kung Pow Chicken?" House asked Chase.

Chase turned away from his paperwork and stared at him blankly, slightly bewildered at House's presence and the randomness of his question.

"… Don't know. Never had it," he admitted.

House then stepped into the conference room, took out his prescription pad, scribbled his and Wilson's new address on the top sheet, ripped it off and handed it to Chase, who slowly took it from him.

"Wilson's microwave sucks, so you should come over before the food gets cold," House advised him as Chase read what he had written on the paper.

"Thanks," Chase said sincerely, surprised at the thoughtful gesture.

House nodded. "Heineken goes best with Chinese food."

A little while later, Chase showed up at House and Wilson's new place, carrying a twelve- pack case of Heineken in the bottle.

"Awww, Chase you shouldn't have," House said mockingly.

"…You… told me to—" Chase began in confusion.

"I know. It was a joke," House told him, taking the beer from Chase and backing up to let him in.

Chase entered the spacious loft, admiring the hardwood floors and the tasteful, yet understated décor, which was a seamless combination of both House and Wilson's furniture, books, art and assorted knick- knacks. House's guitars and piano were displayed in a corner of the living room.

"Nice place," Chase commented, taking off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket.

"We outbid Cuddy for it," House said, bringing the beer over to the coffee table, where Wilson was taking the cartons of Chinese food out of the bags.

"Helps to have an ex- wife who's a realtor," Wilson added.

Chase chuckled a bit and hung up his jacket on the set of hooks that were mounted on the wall.

"Bottle opener's in the kitchen," House told him.

Chase dutifully went into the kitchen to retrieve the bottle opener.

"THAT'S why I hired him back. It's a pain in the ass to train a new puppy," House remarked.

"You could always put newspaper down on the floor in your office," Wilson retorted as he continued to unpack the food and place it on the coffee table.

"And risk soiling the carpet? No fucking way," House said as he limped over to the stack of mail that Wilson always piled up on the antique wood table near the front door.

"You guys do this every year?" Chase asked as he re- entered the living room with the bottle opener.

"Yep," Wilson replied, taking a seat on the couch.

While Chase and Wilson began to open the cartons of Chinese food, House was perusing through the bills and the various Christmas cards that Wilson had received. Most of the cards were from former patients and their families.

"Why are people sending you Christmas cards? You're Jewish," House said.

"Because I sent THEM cards," he replied pedantically as he handed Chase the carton of Kung Pow Chicken they had ordered for him along with a set of wooden chopsticks.

House absentmindedly glanced over at the waste- basket, about to throw away some of the junk mail in the pile.

And then he noticed something in it.

Something he couldn't tear his eyes away from.

House stared into the wastebasket for a few seconds, saying nothing.

"You could've at least sent a card to your mother," Wilson pointed out as he began to dig into his own carton of Szechuan Beef.

House then looked back up at the two men, forgetting about the contents of the wastebasket for the time being.

"Doubt my mom would've wanted a holiday card with a picture of the three of us wearing Christmas sweaters," House commented.

Chase stifled a laugh, trying not to choke on his food as he imagined the three of them exactly the way House described, sitting in front of a decorated Christmas tree posing for a holiday picture.

"Her card came today," Wilson said.

"Yeah, I saw," House said, joining them on the couch, sitting on the other side of Chase, grabbing the carton of Moo Shu Pork he had ordered.

"You gonna call her?" Wilson asked.

"You gonna keep nagging me??" House shot back.

Wilson gave House a pointed look. Chase remained silent between the two men, continuing to eat, not daring to look at either of them.

"All right," House said in exasperation as he got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen, taking his carton of Moo Shu Pork with him.

Chase picked up the remote for the TV off the coffee table. "You mind?" he asked Wilson.

"Not at all," Wilson replied.

Chase began to scroll through the channels, looking for something decent for the three of them to watch as Wilson looked at him sympathetically.

"I'm sorry about you and Cameron," Wilson said.

Chase gave him a sidelong glance. "Thank you," he felt obligated to say.

"You gonna stay in the condo? 'Cause Bonnie can always find you another place," Wilson offered.

"…Not sure yet," Chase replied, refusing to elaborate as he continued to channel surf.

Wilson exhaled. "The holidays are always the hardest if you've lost someone," he commented, taking a swig from his beer.

Chase nodded once, actually wishing for House to come back in the room.

As if on cue, House re- entered the living room, carrying his carton of food.

"He driving you crazy yet with his well- meant yet annoying platitudes?" House asked, jutting his chin at Wilson.

Chase couldn't help but smile at that.

"What? I'm just trying—" Wilson began.

"Stop trying and just eat," House told him as he sat back down next to Chase.

"How's the Kung Pow?" House asked Chase, grabbing the remote to change the channel that Chase had decided on.

"Good," Chase said in between bites.

After dinner, the three of them ordered "Blazing Saddles," from HBO On Demand, because Chase had never seen it.

Chase laughed almost throughout the first half of the movie. House smiled every so often, actually finding himself amused at how Chase was enjoying the movie so much.

The three of them laughed hysterically at the infamous farting scene, which was decidedly funnier after each of them had consumed three beers each.

By the end of the movie, Wilson had fallen sound asleep sitting up on the far end of couch, his mouth gaped open as he snored lightly.

"Wanna watch something else?" House asked Chase.

Chase glanced at his watch. "No thanks. I should probably go soon," he replied.

House nodded, noticing that Chase made no move to get off the couch.

"Why'd you cut your hair?" House asked.

"Don't tell me you miss it," Chase snarked.

"I miss teasing you about it," House replied.

Chase laughed slightly. "Still getting used to it myself."

An awkward silence developed between the two men.

"…You getting help like I told you to?" House finally asked him.

"… No," Chase admitted.

"Are you going to?"

"Dunno."

"…Did she call?" House asked.

"No call, no card," Chase replied matter- of- factly.

"You sent her a card, did you?" House asked, already knowing the answer.

Chase sighed. "… Yes," he admitted rather meekly.

"You're pathetic," House told him.

A small laugh escaped Chase's lips and he shrugged. "Maybe."

"At least you admit your pathetic," House said.

Chase didn't know what to say to that. Another silence hung in the air between them.

"Cameron and I got a tree last year," Chase said.

House raised his eyebrows.

Chase shrugged. "She didn't want one, but…"

"How'd you convince her?" House asked.

"I told her that I hadn't really celebrated Christmas with anyone since I was a little boy in Australia," Chase replied with a sly smile.

"And she actually fell for that?" House asked, truly surprised.

"Yep," Chase replied, now grinning proudly.

House laughed, taking some comfort in the fact that Chase was consistently a sneaky, manipulative bastard.

"She drew the line at hanging stockings with our names on them in glitter on the fireplace," Chase added, hoping to make House laugh again.

But House wasn't smiling.

His thoughts were back on the wastebasket.

"Cuddy sent Wilson a Christmas Card," House stated.

Chase's eyes widened slightly.

"… she sent it HERE??" he asked incredulously.

House then pushed himself off the couch, limped over to the wastebasket and retrieved the card that Cuddy had sent to Wilson.

He handed it to Chase, who stared at it in shock. It was a rectangular- shaped card with a picture of Lucas, Cuddy and Rachel sitting on the floor in front of a decorated Christmas tree with presents underneath it.

Cuddy was smiling from ear to ear.

"Don't blame you for throwing it out," Chase said, handing the card back to House.

"I didn't. Wilson did. Didn't even know she sent it until I looked in the garbage," House admitted.

Chase gazed at House contemplatively as he limped back to the wastebasket and dropped the card back into it.

"Guess it was her way of sticking it to us since we outbid her on the place," House commented.

"I guess," Chase said, feeling suddenly sorry for his boss.

Wilson suddenly let out a loud snore, shifting his position on the couch in his sleep.

"Was it your idea to invite me for dinner or his?" Chase asked.

"… Was my idea to have you bring the beer," House replied with a shrug.

Chase nodded. "Wilson's a good friend."

"Yep," House replied in agreement.

Chase exhaled and stood up from the couch, and crossed the room to House, extending his hand out to House for him to shake.

"Thanks for dinner," Chase said.

House stared at Chase's hand for a moment.

He then shook his hand firmly.

"Roads are icy," House commented, releasing his grip.

"They were when I came here," Chase said, slipping his sneakers on without bothering to untie them.

"You had three beers and there's cops all over the place," House reminded him.

"I'll be fine," Chase said dismissively, reaching for his jacket.

"…You wanna crash on the couch?" House asked awkwardly.

Chase raised his eyebrows, stunned at House's offer.

"Wilson's on the couch," Chase said, too surprised to say anything else.

House looked over at Wilson curled up on the couch.

"WILSON!" House shouted out, making Chase jump slightly.

Wilson sat up abruptly, still half asleep. "Wha?" he breathed.

"Go to bed," House ordered him.

Wilson nodded, inhaling sharply through his nose, his eyes closed. Still in a daze, he managed to get up off the couch and find his way to his bedroom.

"Wonder if I could make him dance," House commented, causing Chase to laugh.

"There's extra blankets in the linen closet," House told him before turning around to head off to his own bedroom.

As Chase placed his jacket back up on the hook and took his sneakers off again, he watched House limp down the short hallway that led to his room.

"House," Chase called out.

House stopped and turned around, waiting for Chase to pathetically wish him a Merry Christmas.

"…You… wanna send Cuddy a girl- on -girl Strip- O- Gram to her house for Christmas tomorrow?" Chase asked.

House turned down his lower lip.

"Can we find a way to charge it to the hospital?" House asked.

Chase grinned. "I'll see what I can do," he replied.

House smirked.

"Cool," he said before heading off to his bedroom.

Chase grabbed a quilt out of House and Wilson's linen closet and got comfortable on the couch, the smile remaining on his face until he fell asleep.

THE END.