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  Chrysalis part III 
 by gorblimey2	

 ***

Lisa Cuddy was in a bidding war in and it made her nervous. Since she had
been hired to be the Dean of Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching
Hospital, she had improved almost every department by hiring only the
finest physicians and purchasing the best equipment within her budget. The
only department that really needed an overhaul was Neurology. 

The University Medical Center at Princeton had put in a large bid that
Lisa wasn't sure she would be able to beat. She convened a session of the
Board of Directors to discuss the matter. "I know it's a lot of money, but
look at her portfolio carefully. Each of the hospitals that hired her made
a substantial profit off of her. She would also be just what we need for
the Neurology department. I think we need to take the chance and submit a
higher offer."

Rajah Balasubrumanian, a member of the Board said, "Yes, but Dr. Cuddy,
that's a lot of money. I have to admit she's very impressive and she has
been a gold mine wherever she's gone, but she claims that she wants to do
research on HSV and GDF. Do you think that's going to be profitable for
us?"

"Yes, I think it will. With her background I think we can safely take it
for granted that she knows what she's doing. Does anyone want to call the
vote?"

The vote was taken and it was unanimous to make another offer to bring
Jordan Palmer on board at PPTH. Jordan had gone on to become one of the
premier neuroengineers and neurosurgeons in the world. She had not only
perfected and patented several surgical procedures, but she had also
developed and patented several pieces of equipment and software programs.
She always shared the patents' profits generously with the hospitals she
worked at. Her share and her salary made her one of the highest paid
doctors in the world.

For the last five years Jordan had practiced in England and Mexico where
she was allowed to use stem cells to do her research. She was homesick and
was missing the friends she had made up and down the East Coast over the
years. She decided that it was time to go home to the United States.
Jordan had a plan. She submitted her C.V. to the Mayo Clinic,
Cedars-Sinai, UCSD and Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Of all the
hospitals she submitted her CV to, Princeton Plainsboro was the one she
expected to win the bidding war. The neurology department at Princeton
Plainsboro was mediocre at best. However, the University's laboratory had
just received an overhaul and only had a few minor players taking
advantage of it. Jordan came with several multimillion dollar grants, but
she herself was asking $1 million a year in salary along with 40 percent
of any patents, work benefits and a few other perks such as four weeks
vacation. All of the hospitals had met the million-dollar mark and were
willing to give her everything else she asked for, so then it became a
bidding war on her salary. Princeton Plainsboro won with a bid of $1.3
million a year. She signed a contract for two years.

Jordan was both apprehensive about seeing Greg again. Part of her wanted
to see how he was doing, the other wanted to be as far away from him as
possible. Jordan had been in love a couple of times since she last saw
Greg. But it had always been Jordan who left the relationships. The men
with start making demands that she choose between her work more them. She
resigned herself to the fact that she just wasn't meant to commit to
anyone. 

She had seen Doug at a conference in Hong Kong about seven years ago and
he told her that House was in a stable relationship with a lawyer and
that, for House, he seemed happy. When Doug told her this news, she had
just broken up with the man she had lived with for the last two years. She
was glad that House had found someone. Now if only she could find someone.
Jordan had also read that House had been shot by a former patient. In some
ways Jordan wasn't surprised, she always worried that someday someone
would be angry enough to want to teach Greg a lesson.

Jordan had attended a meeting of Neuroscientists in England six months ago
when she overheard a conversation between two doctors from Johns Hopkins.

"Yet you remember that son of a bitch, Greg House? Well he was arrested
for drug abuse."

"I was at a conference once with him and he was popping Vicodin like they
were Tic Tacs."

"Yeah well, my friend Wilson told me that they had to remove a large chunk
of muscle from his leg and now he is a chronic pain."

"Ha, couldn't happen to a nicer guy." The two doctors both chuckled and
went on their way. 

Jordan realized that Greg had to be in a lot of pain in order to tolerate
Vicodin at that level and still function.

Jordan had never purchased a home in any of the cities she lived in. She
knew that once she got bored with her job, and she got bored often, she
would want to move on and the idea of having to sell a house did not
appeal to her. Jordan had money, lots of it. But her money was safely
invested. Despite having the money, Jordan rarely spent any of it on
herself. She had splurged on a car and vacations, but her apartment was
plain. 

Lisa Cuddy was excited. Jordan Palmer was an icon for female doctors. She
had blown the roof off of the glass ceiling. Lisa had never met her even
though the hospital had just committed to a hefty salary for her each
year. Lisa had heard that Jordan Palmer was a little quirky, had her own
entourage and could be moody. Compared to House, she thought, she could
handle Jordan Palmer.

The morning that Jordan was supposed to arrive at Princeton Plainsboro,
Lisa assembled all of the hospital's neurosurgeons and neurologists
downstairs to welcome her. She knew that some of the doctors were
extremely jealous of Jordan and others were extremely excited about
working with her. Lisa didn't care. She figured that if anyone had a
problem with Jordan Palmer they could leave and that would give the
hospital more money to pay Jordan's salary. It was well known that Jordan
worked rings around all of the other doctors.

James Wilson was average in height, very good looking with medium brown
hair and liquid brown eyes. He was one of the best oncologists in the
United States. Jim had known Greg for more than 10 years and it was well
known to everyone in the hospital that Jim was the long-suffering sidekick
to the evil Greg House. No one understood why Wilson put up with House.
Wilson walked into the hospital and noticed Lisa standing with a dozen
doctors, all from the Neurology Department. He went over to her and asked
her, "What's up?"

"I only announced it yesterday afternoon, but Jordan Palmer is joining the
staff at Princeton Plainsboro. She starts today. In fact, she just called
me and said she'd be here in a few minutes. This is kind of a welcoming
committee of neurologists."

"Jordan Palmer? We can afford Jordan Palmer?" Wilson was shocked. He had
read a whole article on Jordan and the salary she commanded.

"We've been wanting to glam up the Neurology Department so when she became
available last month, it seemed like a perfect fit. She demands a high
salary, but she's always left each hospital with a lot more money than
what they spent on her. I'm betting that she's going to do the same here.
If she doesn't, it's probably my job."

"Have you ever met her?"

"No, but I understand she's nice to look at."

One of the neurologists who claimed to have attended a seminar where
Jordan had given a presentation looked at Lisa Cuddy and nodded at the
doors as Jordan walked in. Lisa was somewhat surprised. She had expected a
tall, regal looking woman. Instead, Jordan Palmer was average, if not
short in height, thin and very pretty. Lisa was somewhat jealous of
Jordan's hair which was pinned up on her head and falling down the back in
reddish blonde ringlets. Jordan had lovely blue eyes. She looked more like
a Grecian nymph than a reigning queen of the Neurology world. Jordan also
looked like someone you could be friends with. She greeted everyone with a
smile and seemed sweet and perky. She was dressed in a light beige sheath
with matching open toed high heels. The dress showed off her great figure
and legs. She wore minimum jewelry and makeup.

"Jordan Palmer? Hi I'm Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine, welcome aboard. Your
office will be on the fourth floor near the Neurology Department. You also
have an office on campus in the laboratory. As requested, your secretary
will have her own private cubicle outside of your office. Before we go up
to your office, I'd like to introduce you to the neurologists and
neurosurgeons here at the hospital."

Lisa took approximately 10 minutes to introduce Jordan to everyone. Each
of the doctors praised Jordan for her work as a Neuroengineer, inventor
and neurosurgeon. In fact, after listening to them recount her
accomplishments, Lisa wondered how Jordan managed to have a personal life?

"Well Dr. Cuddy, now that I've met everyone, can we see my office?"

Lisa was about to escort Jordan to the fourth floor when she saw House
enter the hospital behind Jordan's back. Lisa had hoped to keep Jordan
away from Greg House for as long as possible, not knowing that they had a
history. She knew that House would make some rude remark and Lisa would
spend the day apologizing for him. Jordan followed Lisa's gaze to the
front door.

Jordan took in a deep breath, she hadn't expected to see Greg looking so
worn and tired. She felt her heart squeeze in pain as he finally
recognized her. A smile broke out on his face, spreading from one side to
the other slowly and devilishly. Lisa was confused, House seemed to
recognize Jordan. Jordan seemed to recognize House.

 ***

I wasn't sure it was him at first. I wasn't expecting to see him so worn
down. He looked as if life hadn't been kind to him. He was still handsome,
especially with his shadow of a beard, but there was a sadness in his eyes
that made me want to hug him. Of course I didn't, I didn't even touch him.
Everyone was watching us and I could see that Lisa was apprehensive. I'm
sure that Greg hadn't made her life any easier and she was probably afraid
that he was going to say something that would upset me. I was pretty sure
he was going to say something that would upset her.

"Hi Jordi."

"Hi Greg." I smiled as kindly as I could. He leaned on his cane and stared
at me for what seemed like a very long time.

Lisa Cuddy finally interrupted us, "House, you know Dr. Palmer?" He
chuckled and I knew what was coming, "I had carnal knowledge of her when
she was just a pretty young thing. Still looking pretty but that "young"
is a thing of the past "

I watched Lisa shudder and shake her head. She clearly believed that I was
going to be insulted by his comments. I looked up at him nonchalantly and
said, "Yeah, and if I remember correctly you used to tell me that having
sex twice in one night was a lot. Luckily, I found out later that twice
was just a warm up."

One of the doctors, a nice looking man with brown hair, brown eyes and a
lab coat that said, 'James Wilson M.D.' started laughing out loud. House
smiled again and I turned to Lisa, "Now would be a good time for me to see
my office."

Lisa Cuddy motioned for me to follow her and I did. We turned down a
corridor and walked down past several departments to get to the elevator
that went up to the Neurology Department. We got in the elevator and I
knew she was dying to ask me about Greg. I turned and smiled at her to let
her know she could feel free to ask me whatever it was she wanted to ask.

"Did House really sleep with you?"

"Worst than that, he was my first. I had asked him to teach me how to kiss
and well, one thing led to another."

"Where did you meet him?"

"I met him at Johns Hopkins when he was doing his infectious disease
residency. I was his tenant."

"And he took your virginity?"

"Yes, Greg House was the one. Actually he did a lot more. We started
living together soon after that until he left to go to Mass General."

We got out of the elevator on the fourth floor and started walking past
several doors. I could see she was having trouble wrapping her mind around
the fact that Greg and I had lived together. It really seem to baffle her.
"You'll have to excuse me, I just can't believe that Greg House lived with
Jordan Palmer. How could you put up with him?"

"He was actually fun to live with. We used to have a really good time.
Sure, he was also an ass, but he was kind to me and he was great in bed.
In fact, don't tell him, but he's the best I ever had. Sex was never quite
as fun or as fulfilling as with him. He really knew how to slam one out of
the park."

Lisa Cuddy shook her head, she'd have to mull this over. She opened the
door and I walked into my new office. The office was approximately 20 feet
by 15 feet with windows that ran down the complete side of the west face
of the building. I was pleased with it because it had so many windows. I
hated feeling cooped up.

 ***

Wilson joined House at the elevator. "You popped Jordan Palmer's cherry?
Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"A gentleman never kisses and tells, oops, my bad." House feigned a look
of innocence. They walked out of the elevator and down the Hall making a
right into House's office where he met up with the rest of the diagnostic
team.

House looked at the handsome young African-American and said, "Foreman,
you're a neurologist, why weren't you down there with the welcoming
committee kissing some Palmer ass? And I'd like to say for the record,
it's one sweet ass."

House's team consisted of Eric Foreman, neurologist; Robert Chase,
Intensivist; and Allison Cameron, immunologist. Foreman was known for
being ambitious, but lately he had also begun to show a real warm side to
his patients. Chase had also come a long way. At first he worried about
what everyone thought about him and whether or not he would keep his job,
but his confidence grew and now his diagnostic abilities had exceeded
those of Cameron and Foreman. Cameron was bright, beautiful and had a
crush on Greg House.

Foreman's eyes grew wider, "Jordan Palmer? Jordan Palmer is here at the
hospital?"

Wilson nodded his head and said, "Not only is she here, but she works here
now."

Everyone could see how excited Foreman was. Chase, an Australian, wasn't
as familiar with Jordan Palmer as everyone else. He looked around and
asked, "Why is everyone excited about this Jordan Palmer coming to work at
Princeton Plainsboro?"

Foreman shook his head, "It means that this hospital will be known as
having the foremost Neurology Department in the world. Jordan Palmer is
tops in the field." Foreman turned around and looked at House, "Is she up
in the Neurology Department right now?"

"If you grovel, I can get you an audience with the Queen." House said.

"Do you know her?" Foreman asked.

Wilson closed his eyes waiting for House to tell everyone, "Let's just
say, I parked the pink Plymouth in Jordi's garage of love; put the old
thumb drive in the USB; I fixed her plumbing; laid some pipe; treated her
to some in and out; we..."

Cameron threw her hands into the air, "We get the picture."

Foreman smiled at house in disbelief, "You had sex with Jordan Palmer?"

House put a finger in his mouth, flicked it, making a popping sound, "I
popped her cherry. And I might add, there were many nights when we held
prayer meetings and gave thanks to God, 'Oh God, Jesus Christ, oh God I'm
coming!"

Cameron frowned, "You're disgusting."

Former looked at all of them, "This changes everything, I was trying to
figure out what my next career move should be after this fellowship. It
looks like I'm going to stay put, this is going to be where the action is,
at least for a neurologist."

House gave a silly look and said in a high-pitched voice, "I just don't
get it, she poops just like everybody else and I would know, I lived with
her."

Once again everyone's eyes grew big. Wilson was in shock, "When did you
live with Jordan Palmer?"

"When we were at Johns Hopkins, I was doing my residency in infectious
diseases and she was getting her doctorate in Neuroengineering. She was my
tenant. She didn't have much money so we came up with a way for her to pay
the rent if you get my drift." House wiggled his eyebrows.

Wilson's mouth was still open, "Did you love her?"

House looked at all of them, and started singing in his best Tina Turner
voice, "What's love got to do with it, got to do with it? What's love but
a secondhand emotion?" House got up and left the office still singing,
"What's love got to do with it, got to do with it..."

House got on the elevator and hit the button that said 4. As he was riding
the elevator, he couldn't help but think that things were going to get
interesting around Princeton Plainsboro.

 ***

When I walk through that door and saw the backside of her, I knew that ass
like the back of my hand. It had filled out a little. It was rounder,
giving her a more fertile look. But the basic shape was the same. Her
gorgeous legs hadn't changed a bit. And her hair had simply grown longer
and was slightly blonder than before. When she turned around I was
embarrassed. I could see from the fleeting look on her face that my
appearance shocked her. The pain from my leg, the Vicodin abuse, and all
the emotional crap that went with it have taken its toll on me. I could
see it in photos take of me in the last five years. Jordan hadn't changed
much, she simply looked more like a woman.

By the looks of it, she had done well without me. She looked healthy and
happy. But my life had just gone from as dull as Cuddy's love life to as
interesting as an epidemic of Ebola Niger. I had someone to mess with.

I don't know why I told everyone that I took her virginity, I suspect it
was my way of peeing on the hydrant. Even if I couldn't have her I didn't
want anyone else having her either. I didn't know if she was single,
married or living with someone. I didn't see a ring on her ring finger so
that probably ruled out marriage,

I wandered down the hall towards the Neurology Department. I saw a lot of
boxes marked "Palmer" so I headed that way. I heard her laugh. I
remembered that laugh well. We used to laugh a lot in Baltimore, but we
were young. I stood in the doorway admiring the view when her assistant
saw me out of the corner of her eye. Jordan looked up to see who was there
and smiled at me.

"Sara, can you give us a moment? And could you close the door when you
leave?" She pointed to a chair for me to sit down. I went over and planted
myself in the chair.

I looked around the office, "So, just can't stay away from me? That's a
long time to hold a flame for someone. But I can understand, after all, I
did give you a vaginal orgasm. Did you come back for that?" 

She chuckled, "Oh Greg, you've gotten feistier and, from what I hear,
meaner. You and I need to find a way to keep the past in the past."

"I don't see why, it wasn't that bad. In fact, most the time it was damn
good. Did you miss me... when I went up to Boston?"

I could see she didn't want to talk about this. "I moved on. I understand
that you're living with someone. I'm happy for you."

I gave her a look as if she had just stepped into the Twilight Zone. My
brows were knitted together and I asked, "When did you hear that? 10 years
ago? You know we've gone through Y2K, Michael Jackson's trial and 9/11
since then."

She realized that she had put her foot in her mouth, "I saw Doug at a
conference in Hong Kong about seven years ago and he told me about her."

"Well, since that conference, I've lost a huge chunk of my thigh muscle in
my right leg, become addicted to Vicodin and live with pain every day. My
girlfriend left me about six months after the surgery. Really wasn't her
fault, I pushed her out."

I could see that I had just made her feel like crap. I was good at that.
She started pulling things out of boxes to keep occupied. Her voice was
hesitant, "I... I, oh Greg I'm really sorry. I'm obviously way behind the
times. How long have you been at Princeton Plainsboro?"

"I've been here long enough. Lisa Cuddy brought me down here when Mass
General asked me to leave." She started to smile when I told her I'd been
asked to leave, "What? I got into an argument with the Dean of Medicine
over his veracity and the size of his penis."

She continued to giggle. For a minute she was able to get it under control
but then she just broke out laughing. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't
laugh, but you always screw up and you always land on your feet. I've got
to admire you for that. After I get unpacked and settled at the hospital,
maybe we could have lunch sometime? I'd like to hear about your surgery
and the pain you're experiencing."

"Oh it's always good for a laugh. I've gotten really good with my cane. I
can twirl it, use it as a tool, hit people with it, and generate sympathy
when I need it. I even get one of those little blue placards that let's me
park in one of those special spaces."

She looked at me and shook her head, "Don't look to me for sympathy.
Knowing you, you probably revel in your pain. It probably defines who you
are now."

I was so sick of people trying to psychoanalyze me that I started yelling
at her, "It fucking hurts. Every single day of the year, every single hour
of the day, every single minute Of the hour, it hurts. I go to bed with
it, I wake up with it. Some days I just want it over with. Yeah, it pretty
much defines who I am now." I got up and started to walk out the door, " I
never wanted your sympathy, I just came up to see how you were doing."

 ***

Over the next few days, Foreman kept harassing House, "Hey, you said you'd
get me an audience with the Queen."

"So I lied, get over it."

"Someone must have got spanked. What, didn't Palmer appreciate the new,
improved House?"

House stared at him for a minute and then realized that the best time to
ask Jordan for a favor would be right now. She was probably feeling pretty
guilty about the other day. House dialed the extension to the operator and
she connected him to Jordan.

"Dr. Palmer."

"Dr. House here."

"Yes?"

"One of my fellows is a neurologist, Eric Foreman. He wants to come up and
sniff your butt, have you got time to talk to him? He's actually pretty
good at what he does."

"Oh Jesus Greg, I'm so busy." There was a long pause, "I tell you what,
ask him If he wants to scrub in tomorrow on an experimental surgical
treatment for Parkinson's?"

House looked up at Foreman who was looking pretty pissed off at House for
the sniffing butt comment and asked him, "Do you want to scrub in tomorrow
on an experimental treatment for Parkinson's?"

Foreman's eyes grew big and he started grinning from ear to ear, "What
time?" 

"Yeah, he wants to know what color of shoe polish he should bring boss and
if you want him to tap dance or do hip-hop. What time?"

"You know, if it was anyone else asking me I'd say no." She said it in a
very somber voice, "You know I'm doing this out of guilt don't you?"

"Why do you think I'm asking you now? I knew you'd be kicking yourself."
He chuckled and said softly, "Hey, you didn't take a chunk out of my
thigh. What have you got to feel guilty about?"

"6:30 in the morning. If he isn't there by then tell them not to bother
coming."

He told Foreman to be there at 6:30 in the morning. Foreman was almost
jumping up and down. House could've told him to be there by 3:30 in the
morning and he would've been there. 

Foreman shook his head at House and said sincerely, "House, thanks. I mean
it, thanks. I' my going to be able to put down on my resume that I
performed surgery with Jordan Palmer. That just about writes my ticket
anywhere I want to go after this." He looked out into space, "But I'm
going to probably stay here, see if I can't get on her team."

Sometimes Foreman's ambitions were just a little too much to take. House
waved his hand at him to get out, "Blah, blah, blah, blah, go do your
work."

 ***

I'm usually very picky about who I let scrub in with me. It typically
takes months for me to make a decision on whether or not a doctor should
be allowed in the OR while I'm performing surgery, especially experimental
surgery. I don't know why I caved so quickly. I would've said no to anyone
else. This guy better be good.

Being in the same room with House was incredibly difficult. I could see in
his face that life had been hard for him. But once you give sympathy to
Greg he takes advantage of it. Just like he took advantage of my feeling
guilty. I knew he was doing it, he knew he was doing and I let him do it.
But I also made sure that he knew I was on to him.

Luckily, I have so many research projects that I'm working on that I don't
have time to analyze my feelings. I just increased my staff of researchers
at the University lab to ten and added two neurosurgeons here at the
hospital. Of course, they're all being funded by numerous grants that I
have received. I'm working on the potential analgesic effects of GDF in
neuropathic pain states.

When I saw the doctor Foreman, I thought to myself that he looked
reasonably bright. We were doing our scrub up and I asked him, "So, how
long have you worked for Dr. House?"

"About three years. My fellowship ends pretty soon."

I knew that he was probably going to make a pitch to me, they all do.
However, I figured if Greg hired him and trained him, he was probably
pretty good. I'd keep my eye on him and see how he does in the next few
months.

Foreman looked at her, "You actually lived with House?"

"Don't you think that's a little personal?"

He started getting nervous, "I'm sorry, of course it is. I think that
House is starting to rub off on me. I would've never asked that four years
ago."

We started through the doors of the O.R. and I turned to him and said, "I
was 22 and just finishing my doctorate in Neuroengineering. If it hadn't
been for Greg, I think I'd probably still be in some lab somewhere,
working 9-to-5. Does that answer your question?" 

He gave a quick nod and we put on our gloves and went to work. It was very
interesting surgery. We were trying GDNF (glial cell line-derived
neurotrophic factor) by introducing it directly to the brain. Many current
theories of Parkinson's disease (PD) suggest that oxidative stress is
involved in the neurodegenerative process. Potential neuroprotective
agents could protect neurons through inherent antioxidant properties or
through the upregulation of the brain's antioxidant defenses. Glial cell
line-derived neurotrophic factor (GDNF) has been shown to protect and
restore dopamine neurons in experimental models and to improve motor
function in human patients. We were doing experimental surgery to actually
plant GDNF seeds in the area of the brain that makes dopamine. It was
exciting being on the cusp of a breakthrough.

Eric Foreman had held his own in the O.R. Half way through the surgery I
looked up and saw House watching us. I smiled at him and continued. When
we were done, Eric was gushing.

"That was incredible. Thank you Dr. Palmer." He was taking his gloves and
gown off.

"You're welcomed. If you're boss can spare you, I'll let you scrub in
sometime in the future."

"That would be great. Your work is so interesting. I've heard that you
have several projects going, not just this one."

"I do...it's very time consuming."

"Do you ever go home?" 

"Home, why would I want to go home? I don't even have a cat. No this is
pretty much my life. It's ok, someday I'll have a life."

I said goodbye and took off. I had to get over to the University, there
was a crisis in the lab, one of the lines of glial cells had died and we
needed to know why. I arrived and was met by several long faced doctors
and research assistants. Sherlock Holmes always said to rule out he
obvious first and so I asked if anyone knew if the line had been alive
when they treated it? No one could say yes so I traced it back to the
refrigerator and found an entire shipment was dead. It turned out not to
be that big of a deal. The line had died because of an unplugged
refrigerator and not because something had gone wrong with the experiment.
You know the more intelligent people are, the dumber they can be.

 ***

Jordan was ignoring me. Ignoring me is an invitation to the Housian
Inquisition. I left a message with her assistant and on her voice mail to
call me back but she didn't. She said that she wanted to get together for
lunch and I was trying to arrange that. 

One morning when I got into work, I walked over to Wilson's office to
share some gossip. I heard some laughing coming from inside. I didn't
bother to knock (we're friends aren't we?) and opened the door. Sitting
across from Wilson was Jordi. I looked at the two of them and the smiles
dropped from their faces as if I was the angel of doom.

I looked at Wilson, "You're flirting...I could hear that higher pitched
laughter that you usually save for girls we meet at the strip joint." I
turned to Jordi, "And you're avoiding me. I've left several messages for
you and you haven't called me back. I don't like to be ignored."

"We were just comparing notes on the latest episode of the Daily Show."
Wilson smiled at House and then offered, "Jordan needs some cancer
participants in one of her studies."

"Greg, I'm not ignoring you, I'm ignoring everyone. All of projects are at
full speed now and I'm up to my ass in alligators. In fact, I have to go.
Jim, thanks, I'll send you all the protocols and then we can start
choosing the patients and the controls. I'll see you both." Jordi got up,
shook Wilsons hand and then shot past me.

"You like her." I could tell from the way Wilson was smiling and touched
his hair that he was interested in Jordi.

"I'm only interested in her professionally. She is nice and funny. I still
have a hard time believing that she lived with you. What did you do, drug
her?"

"I was an aphrodisiac. Our relationship mostly revolved around sex. She
liked it when I would..."

"WHOA...TMI...too much information. Look, it seems as if Jordan and I are
going to be spending a lot of time trying out these protocols. So if you
want to make some titillating comment about it, hit me with your best
shot. I'm ready."

I picked up the little glass figurine of a dolphin on Wilson's desk and
studied it before answering, "I KNOW you and you're acting like a school
girl around her. You want her and you want her bad. Remember, love is
grand but divorce is fifty grand. I'm warning you, you can't handle
Jordi."

"Wow House, don't be so open minded, your brains will fall out. How would
you know if I can handle Jordan, you haven't been with her in sixteen
years? Besides, I have no intention of dating her."

"No, your intention is screwing her."

"You think the worst of everyone, don't you? Just because your life sucks,
you want everyone around you to be miserable. You need to get a life. Buy
some time with a hooker."

"Hey, I used to have a handle on life and then it broke. I warn you.
Jordan is a handful."

"And you're not? I handle you pretty well."

"HA!" I took off without giving Wilson the gossip about Thomas Sailing's
wife. Didn't matter, I had a bigger problem. Wilson was flirting with
Jordi and Jordi was receiving. Something was going on and I needed to nip
it in the bud. Wilson was too much of a romantic and Jordi was too curious
to know when to say no. 

Over the next month, I would occasionally find Jordi in Wilson's office
and I'd hear a lot of laughter coming from their little trysts. I caught
them in the hall one day huddled together looking at something. I came up,
took my cane and pushed them apart.

Jordan was annoyed, "House!"

"Come on children, just like in parochial school, I need to be able to get
a ruler between you two." I looked at Wilson, "Is she trying to get you to
embrace the Kama Sutra? I can show you the position she likes best."

Wilson looked perturbed, "House, not everything is about sex."

I rolled my eyes at Jordi and gave her a silly face, "Air and sex, not
important unless you aren't getting any...of course it's about sex. What's
in your hand?" I looked at Jordi, who had something in her hand that she
was trying to hide.

"Greg, it's none of your business. Jim, I'll see you later." Jordan turned
and went to the elevator bay. I followed Wilson, he was easier to get
information out of than Jordi.

"What was she hiding?"

"None of your business."

"You can tell me now and it will go easier on you or, if I have to dig,
that Horse's head will end up under your covers...wait, I don't have a
horse, ok, Cuddy's head."

"House, I'm not Alfredo to your Michael Corleone. I had to sign a
confidentiality clause to be involved in the protocol. So, give it up." 

"Are you up for the poker contest on Saturday, starts at 6:00 p.m. with a
$500 buy in." I knew how much Wilson loved poker (and he was good at it.)
I figured if I could get him to go, I could soften him up, especially if
he won some money.

"Can't, I already have plans." He gave me a look, the one where you
purposely stare at the other person so that they don't see that you're
nervous.

"Plans? What plans?" I was suspicious. If he had plans that weren't
controversial he would have said, 'I'm going to dinner with my cousin or I
have to have dinner with Cuddy and some potential donors...but he didn't
say that. He avoided saying anything to me.

"Just dinner with an old friend." With that Wilson went back into his
office. I went to mine, but something was up.

 ***

I didn't want Greg seeing the file in my hand. It would have been awkward,
I wasn't suppose to have it and I doubt that he would let me hear the last
of it. Wilson had been fun to get to know. He was kind, literate, funny
and he wasn't bad to look at. I kept hoping he would ask me out but I
understood how awkward he must have felt. Greg was being a nuisance,
calling and leaving me messages. My assistant wasn't happy and wanted me
to talk to him. I knew it wouldn't do any good. I was Greg's current
project and until he moved on to something else, he would be buzzing
around me like a mosquito, making my life more complicated than it already
was. 

We were in the all when Wilson gave me the file. He asked me out for
Saturday night and I said yes. I was hoping that maybe he could end my dry
spell. I hadn't been out with someone for at least eight months and hadn't
gotten laid for nine. We were going to go to dinner. Of course, having
Greg walk up in the middle of making plans was weird. It's like he has
radar and knows when something is up.

Wilson picked me up at 7:00 p.m. and we went to a rather busy restaurant
and were told we had a 45 minute wait. We found a table in the bar and
ordered drinks while we waited. 

"Where are you from?" James asked.

"Guthrie, Oklahoma. My parents own a dairy farm."

"Dairy Farm? That's hard work. Did you work the farm?"

"Every day. What about you, where did you go to school?"

"McGill."

"Canada?"

"Yes. I wanted to go somewhere different and they had a great program."

"They certainly do. I practiced in London and we had a lot of Canadians in
our research labs."

"How did you manage to get two doctorates, become a doctor, neurosurgeon
and neuroengineer so young?"

"I started college when I was 14. I was a child prodigy...actually I was a
sheltered child prodigy. My parents were incredibly strict. If I wasn't
doing schoolwork, then I was working on the farm. I had no friends...they
couldn't relate to me or me to them. Academia became my life...I was so
pathetic. At least I was pathetic until I met Greg. He brought me into the
real world."

"More like blast you into the real world. What was he like back then?"

"Oh, he was an ass a lot of the time, but when we were together, alone, he
was funny, loving and really a cheesy romantic. But can we not talk about
him? Seeing what he has become is heartbreaking."

"I know, I see him slipping into his misery more and more each year. But,
you're right! Let's not talk about him. Do you like beef? I did bring you
to a steak house. I didn't think to ask if you were a vegetarian."

"Oh Jimmy, I'm an Okie...steak is mother's milk!"

We laughed and had a great time at dinner. He was so witty and sweet. He
would slip in little compliments, nothing blatant where you feel like
you're being set up, but the kind that made you feel appreciated. He was
good at dating. When I date, I either got really bored or wanted to jump
the guy within twenty minutes. I wanted to jump Jim. After dinner we
ordered cheesecake and asked for two forks. He walked me out to his car."

"I like a girl who orders the big filet mignon, french fries and goes for
desert! Usually, I take out women who feel guilty eating a salad."

"I've been rowing in the mornings before coming in and I have a very
healthy appetite. Thanks for dinner. Jim, I'd invite you back to my place
for a drink but to be honest, I haven't had time to go out and buy booze
and my apartment is, to put it bluntly, still in a state of chaos from the
move."

"You've been here for two months!"

"Unpacking has never been a priority with me. Not much goes on at my
apartment." I saw his look, "Oh, things went on, just not at my
apartment."

He said very softly, "I just rented an apartment a few months ago and I do
have some alcohol. Would you like to go there for a drink?"

I must have sounded too enthusiastic because he laughed when I said, "YES!
I'd love it."

We got to his apartment and It was nicely decorated. It was male but not
overwhelmingly male. A woman could still feel at home in his place. It had
a great view of Princeton and we sat on the couch talking about our lives
when he put his glass down and moved in for a kiss. I gave him the Greg
House French kiss, still my favorite. He seemed to like it too because he
reciprocated.

After some massive french kissing, he made his move and the hand came up
my top. It was a little hesitant and in my head I was screaming, "Grab the
breast, let's get this going"...but it was no use, he took his time.

He grabbed my hand and led me back to his bedroom. It was large and had
been decorated in navy blue and gray, very sleek and sophisticated. We
stood at the end of the bed and he took my blouse off, I undid his shirt
and belt. He took his shoes off and so did I. I dropped my skirt and stood
in my bra and panties. He stepped in and reached around to unlatch my bra.
His breath and tongue smelled and tasted like cognac. I took the bra off
and we fell back onto the top of the bed kissing and rubbing our bodies
together. I felt his hand reach down for the edge of the elastic holding
my panties up and as he started to pull them off my hip I caught a glimpse
of someone in the doorway. I screamed and Jim pulled back off of me and
followed my glaze. 

I couldn't make out the face at first because the light was coming from
behind him. But the cane told me it was Greg. When my eyes adjusted, I
could see that he had a funny smile on his face. He snorted and looked at
my body before turning around and walking off into the living room. 

"Are you ok?" Jim seemed really worried about me, that scream had to have
been heard all over the building. I shook my head and he said under his
breath, "That bastard."

"Is he still here?" I was shaking. I grabbed his shirt off the floor and
put it over me.

"I'm not sure, let me put on my pants and see." Jim grabbed his trousers
off the floor, put them on and walked out to the living. I heard him start
yelling,"What the hell are you doing here and why didn't you ring the
doorbell?"

"I need to borrow a cup of sugar and I tried knocking, but obviously you
were doing the knocking."

I got up and went out, dressed just in my panties and Jim's shirt. I
looked at Greg and he gave me the once over. He had poured himself a drink
and was sipping it. He gave us both a very solemn, contemplative look. "I
see you still have a thing for my friends. Still haven't learned have
you?"

"Greg, is this about us? If it is then you need to deal with it, because
there is no "us."'

"Well, some habits are hard to break, like wearing little pink cotton
panties."

I closed my eyes. How many times had he teased me about my cotton bikini
panties? And I just happen to have a pair of pink ones on tonight. I
hadn't expected that, it made me feel incredibly sad and nostalgic. I
opened my eyes to find both of them staring at me.

"This is too much. Jim, I'm going to grab a cab home, you two do what you
have to do." I went back to his bedroom, called a cab and started to get
dressed. Jim came in rather agitated.

"This is what he wants, he wants you to leave so that we don't sleep
together."

"Well tonight Greg House gets what he wants."

"What, did he say something? Was it the comment about sleeping with his
friends?

"No. It's the situation." I didn't want to tell him I didn't care about
the friend remark, it had been the remark about the panties. It made me
feel 22 and special all over again. We would laugh about my cotton panties
and he would hug me and tell me how sensible I was. I felt like I might
cry and I don't cry over men. I needed some distance.

I walked through the living room and looked at him, his eyes followed me
as I opened the door and left. I got out to the hall and took a deep
breath. That son of a bitch. He KNEW what to say to me to get me to leave.
How could he know that after all these years? ***

I told you that I knew something was up. I waited and called his apartment
about 9:30 p.m. I figured he'd be back in the apartment by 10:00 p.m. if
they were going to go there. I knew that they had to be together or Wilson
would have told me about what he had planned. I went up and knocked on the
door and no one answered. I took out the extra key Wilson keeps in his top
drawer at work and used it to get in when no one answered.

I saw two glasses on the coffee table and realized that they had probably
retired to the bedroom. I walked back and they were just starting to get
to the good part. Wilson had her breast in one hand and was kissing her
deeply. I didn't have to say anything, Jordi saw me out of the corner of
her eye and she screamed bloody murder. It even frightened me. Wilson
rolled off of her and looked up like I must be an ax murder or some home
invader. 

That's when I got a good look. Her perfect C cup breasts were still round,
pert and symmetrical. The nipples were larger, more pronounced but she was
beautiful laying there with her breasts tilted up to the ceiling and her
little cotton panties framing her pelvic area. I wanted to grab her and
take her, just the two of us. 

After she left Wilson was livid, I had expected this, "House, that's
it...you can't really believe you have the right to come into my apartment
and do this. Did you think this was going to make Jordan want to come back
to you? I can't deal with you anymore, get out."

I knew the best thing to do was to get up and leave but I didn't (of
course.) "You think I enjoy watching you flirt with her? How would you
feel if I flirted with your ex-wives?"

"I'd find it amusing knowing how much they each hated you. This isn't the
same, she lived with you for a year, you both went your separate ways and
it was SIXTEEN years ago, get over it." Wilson sat down in the easy chair,
"She told me that you two never talked about being in love. So why are you
so damn fixated on her?"

I got up and went to the door, opened it, turned around and said, "Because
I was happy then. Do you know how little true happiness there is in this
world, how little of it I've had?" I walked out and slammed the door.

I knew it was going to take some time for Wilson to calm down and get over
this, but in the meantime, score one for Greg House.

I drove straight to Jordan's apartment. The lights were on but she
wouldn't open the door, she wouldn't even answer. I knew that Wilson had
probably called her and told her that I had just left. I went home and
climbed into bed and for the first time in months I had something to
fantasize about. I hadn't been this aroused since Stacy and I had sex
several years ago. 

The funny thing was that I wasn't sure what the end game was. I didn't
want a relationship. I had resigned myself after my fiasco with Stacy that
the physical pain I felt every day would kill any relationship. The worse
I felt the more I'd lash out. I was like an injured animal and God forbid
that someone got in the way when the pain was at its worse.

I thought it would be great if I could screw her, just for old times sake.
I'd like to know if she still felt and smell the same when I held her or
was inside her. But more important, I just didn't want to think of any
other man having her. But seeing how fast Wilson had gotten her into bed,
I knew that was a losing battle.

 ***

The next day Jordan called Wilson and got the address for Greg. "I'm going
to go talk to him, he needs to know that this isn't going to work. And
then when I'm done, I'm coming back over and we're going to finish what we
started last night. The sooner we do and Greg knows it, the faster he'll
lose interest in making my life hell."

He gave her the address and then said rather excitedly, "About what time
should I expect you?"

"Give me a couple of hours."

She drove over to Greg's apartment and knocked on the door. He answered it
in a t- shirt and pair of shorts. He looked tired or like he had just
gotten up. It was noon. He opened the door and Jordan walked in. She could
see that his apartment was all Greg House, modern without being sterile.
He had musical instruments all over the place and hundreds of books
everywhere. She didn't dare smile or he'd think she was there to humor
him.

She couldn't help but think he looked really tired, "You look like hell." 

"Oh... that's because I spent all night jacking off to you laying on
Wilson's bed."

She rolled her eyes and grit her teeth, "Can we be serious?"

"I was.""

"Ok...I'm going to ignore that. Greg I like Jim."

"You liked Doug too."

"I'm older now and I know what I like and what I don't. To be frank, if I
knew back then what I know now, you wouldn't have gotten to first base."

"Let me kiss you and then tell me that." He held out his arm jokingly.

"Not funny." She watched him flinch as he tried to hop to the armchair.
"Are you in pain?" 

"Jesus Christ Jordi, I told you that I'm in pain every day."

"Is it worse some days more than others?"

"Yes...today is one of them. Or is it because you're a pain?"

"Are you only on Vicodin?"

"Vicodin, booze, hookers...anything that takes the pain away for awhile."

She was frustrated and said quite firmly, "Any other medicine?"

"No." He looked at her, "Jordi, don't do this. Don't sleep with my best
friend." He looked at her with desperation in his eyes.

Jordan felt sick to her stomach, she hadn't expected him to have the balls
to ask directly. This was the ultimate manipulation.

Her voice turned soft, "Greg, we never loved each other. We were very good
friends, good lovers and great house mates, but not once could or did we
say that we were in love, because we weren't. I'm going over to sleep with
Wilson when I leave here. I like him and I think we could be good for each
other. I want you to know that this is a train you can't stop, so get off
the tracks. I really don't want to hurt you. I still care about you."

 She started to pace as she said this but realized that she was coming
dangerously close to being within arms reach of House, so she backed up.
She suspected that if he tried to grab her she'd probably want to screw
him just to find out if it was as good as she remembered or if she had
just built him up in her mind over the years. She was so tempted. But when
she looked down at him, he was watching her but rubbing his leg, massaging
it.

"Greg, let me see your scar."

"Get our of here, go screw Wilson"

She became matter of fact, "Drop your shorts, I want to see the scar." 

He looked at her with suspicion but slowly got to his feet so he could
drop the shorts. When he dropped them she drew back in dismay, "Oh fuck,
how could they have butchered you like this?"

He watched her pull away and then, after the emotional impact had worn
off, she came up to him and got down on one knee to look at it. She felt
the muscle underneath. It was starting to atrophy from non-use. There was
enough muscle, if built up sufficiently, that could support the body, but
with the pain there was no way he would be able to tolerate the weight on
that leg. 

"Greg, look at me, this is incredibly important. I am telling you as a
doctor, one who is on the edge of tremendous advancements in neurology,
that you need to start exercising the thigh. Build it up so that we have
something to work with. Don't let it atrophy. I know it hurts and working
out hurts, but please...do it for a year. Give the science another year.
But unless you keep the thigh from atrophying, a doctor won't have
anything to work with."

She stood up and realized that she was less than a foot from his body.
They were so close she could feel his body heat. Her eyes closed slightly
and she felt so pathetically weak. He reached quietly and slowly around
her waist and pulled her in to him. She looked straight ahead at his
clavicle and chest, not able to make eye contact. He could have taken her
right them, but instead he bent down kissed her lips gently and just held
her for a minute, smelling her hair, feeling her warmth and her breasts
pressed up against him. He kissed the crown of her head.

When he let her go she grabbed her stuff and ran out the door.

 ***

I was so engrossed in examining the thigh I forgot I was in the danger
zone. I was so sad, so deeply moved by what I saw. He was right, he had to
be in pain every minute of the day. That type of injury and the science
that was available when it was done was almost primitive compared to what
we could do now. He was his own worst enemy by not keeping the leg in good
shape. The more it atrophied, the more pain he would have every time he
put pressure on it. I knew it must hurt like hell to exercise but he had
to...especially if in the future something could be done.

When I came up I realized very quickly that I could feel his body warmth
and smell him. The smell was familiar and triggered all my feelings of
being safe. I knew if he touched me at that moment I would climb into his
bed and never get out. But he did something worse, he held me and then he
let me go knowing I was going off to be with another man. I got into the
car and cried. I hated him, he made me cry and I never, never, never cry
over a man. 

I called Jim and was sobbing, "Jim, I can't come over today, I'm sorry."

"Did he do anything to you, what did he say?"

"He didn't do anything, say anything, he was actually very sweet. I just
can't do this today. I am so sorry. Please forgive me." I was trying to
talk through all the sobs and sniffles.

"Jordan, you take your time. I want you to do this when and if it feels
right. But just know that House doesn't do anything without thinking it
through. I'd be surprised if he didn't know he would have this effect on
you."

"Jim, this is one time I think you're wrong about him. I know him too and
he couldn't have expected this." I was starting to calm down. "I'm going
home and sulk. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

 ***

She was the last person I expected to see at my door. The conversation was
rather frustrating since she was about ready to screw my best friend. I
thought maybe if I could catch her and get her into bed I could circumvent
it, but when she first saw my leg and drew back in revulsion, I knew that
if we had sex it would have been pity sex and, although I'm still kicking
myself for letting her go, I didn't want her pity. When she stood up and I
was that close to her, I just wanted to feel her, hold her, smell her;
have that one fantasy moment flood back from when we were together. She
let me hold her, she even held me. 

Why I let her go to be with Wilson I'm not sure. I think I realized that
if she wasn't going to be mine, no one else deserved happiness more than
Wilson. I had put him through hell and he had stuck by me like a good
friend... Sanchez to my Don Quixote. I wanted her to be happy and I think
Wilson could do that for her and for once he'd be with a woman that, for
the most part, wouldn't need to be saved.

Damn, now that I think about it, I could have used the sex, even pity sex.
I took a Vicodin and then looked at the clock. It was noon. I figured it
was late enough to start drinking so I sat down at the piano with my
whiskey and began to play.  
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ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
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show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.