Reaganomics Chapters 12-14 The House Fan Fiction Archive Home Quicksearch Search Engine Random Story Upload Story   Reaganomics Chapters 12-14 by gorblimey2 Chapter 12 Jailbird House and Reagan were politely placed in the back of the unmarked sedan and offered a ride to the precinct house. House was familiar with the station. His old nemesis, Detective Tritter, worked out of it. At first everyone was polite but then House saw a detective motion one of the detectives over. He had a paper printout of something in his hand. The detective went over, he looked at the sheet and then at Reagan. House was pretty sure Reagan's color changed from a healthy pink to an ashen white. "Excuse me, Ms." The detective looked at the sheet of paper, "Ms. Grogan, can you come with us?" Without saying a word she got up and went with them. House thought that odd, he never knew Reagan to do anything without asking questions or giving lip. The detective with House took a call and while he was on the phone House could see the detectives crowding around Reagan in the interrogation room. They were both talking, no, more like arguing with her. She was angry and obviously told them something. They made her stand. House was getting nervous, something was wrong, desperately wrong. They cuffed Reagan and House felt his blood pressure rise and and his heart rate go through the roof. Did she give them some lip? Christ, first she talks back to a guy with a knife and now the police? She's my kind of woman. A tall man in his late thirties, dressed in a pinstriped shirt and Dockers walked in and from the way he looked at Reagan, House could tell he knew her. One of the detective came out and talked to him. They both went back inside with Reagan and the other detective. The pinstriped man began talking to Reagan who was calmly answering him. House turned to the detective on the phone, "What's going on?" The detective ignored him. House pushed down on the receiver buttons of the phone, cutting the detective off. "HEY!" The detective yelled at him. House yelled back, "What's going on?" The detective looked over his shoulder and saw the crowd in the interrogation room with Reagan. He got up and went into the interrogation room and came out smiling. "Dr. House, are you sure your girlfriend in there didn't start this whole thing and that it was a drug deal gone bad? We know about your drug problem. Your girlfriend spent five years in the Federal Pen for drug smuggling." He paused and waited for House's reaction, "You don't have to worry, she's already spilled her guts. She told us how you two went out to score some drugs from the kid and when he didn't cooperate, she pulled the knife and you two beat him up. So, why don't you give us your version of it?" House was reeling from the news that Reagan had been in prison for five years. But one thing he did know, Reagan typically told the truth and she'd never confess to something she didn't do. House laughed at the detective. "Dude, I have our cinema stubs, it happened like we said. Oh, and my girlfriend can kick your girlfriend's ass." "Well, your girlfriend in there broke her probation. She's going back to the Pen for being caught with a knife in her possession with the threat of great bodily harm. If you don't want to tell us the truth, go ahead and sign the statement we took earlier and you can go... for now." House stood up and started yelling, "But it wasn't her knife, she took it away from that drugged out asshole." "Dr. House, your girlfriend in there busted one of the guy's balls. He's only got one left. She's in a lot of trouble. Go home; she won't be getting out tonight . She won't be getting out for a long time." House walked as fast as he could over to the interrogation room and banged on the window with his cane. "It wasn't her knife! It wasn't her fault! Jesus Christ, she was protecting herself, she was protecting me!" He was yelling over and over. Reagan just sat quietly with her head hanging down, unable to look at him. Ken stepped out. "Are you Dr. House?" He said extending his hand to shake. "I'm Ken, I'm on Reagan's side." House eyed him suspiciously. He shook his hand. "We were attacked, she took the knife from the guy. It wasn't her knife." "I know that, but the guy who attacked you doesn't have a rap sheet and she does. Look, I'm going to get the public defender up here as soon as possible but it's a Sunday and the earliest she can get out is Monday afternoon. Why don't you go home. I'll stay with her until they take her to jail." "Who are you exactly?" "Her probation officer." "Why was she in prison?" "You didn't know? She told me that she didn't lie on her employment application, I hope that's true." "I never saw her application. What was she in for?" "She flew from Ecuador to Los Angeles with some coke in her luggage. But, I've worked with her for a year now and I'm a pretty good judge of character and I think she was framed by her boyfriend. He put the coke in the luggage and then booked a different flight. When she was arrested he disappeared. I don't think she knew she had it." House felt like he just fell down the rabbit's hole. Nothing was making sense. "I'd like to talk to her." "I can arrange that but you can't be alone with her." He nodded. They went to the door of the room. Ken gave the two detectives a wave, "Hey guys, give them a minute. I'll babysit." The two detectives left the room. Ken and House walked into the interrogation room. "Are you okay?" House asked her in voice that was so gentle she wasn't sure it was him. She tried to get up but lost her balance because of her arms being cuffed behind her. She fell back into her chair and sighed. She looked up at Ken and then over to House. "I'm so, so sorry." Her eyes teared up. "I never wanted you to see me this way." The tears started racing down her cheeks. "I don't want you to stay. Please leave. Go home. Just leave, I'll be fine. If they send me back, it's not that bad where I'm going. Tell everyone at the hospital that I'll miss them." House was stunned, she was talking like she was guilty and had been sentenced, "What the Fuck are you talking about? You're innocent and we're going to get you out of this mess." "I've been innocent before Greg and I can tell you from experience, Justice IS blind. These detectives want a collar and arresting a drugged out twenty year old versus sending a felon back to prison is a no brainer to them. They get more points for putting me back in prison." House looked at Ken for confirmation, "She's right. The system rewards cops who send felons back into the system. It's just the way it works." Ken shrugged. "Bullsh!t. I'm going to hire you an attorney and he'll..." "NO! I won't let anyone else hire attorneys for me. I'll be fine with the Federal Defender, just go home Greg. The longer you're here the more I hate myself. Please go home." House looked at both of them. He was frustrated and furious, but he could see she meant what she said. Her tears had dried and now she seemed resigned to her fate. House couldn't believe this. It was so Catch 22. He looked at Ken and then at her, stood up and grabbed his cane and turned to leave. "Greg!" She yelled after him. He turned around. "For what it's worth, I had a great time today. Thanks. It's something that will help when I'm back inside." She smiled and tears started up again. House had to resist running back in and holding her. He said nothing. He turned and left, feeling like he was drowning in a river. House hired her a lawyer anyway. She called House after she went to see Reagan early Monday morning, "She's refusing to let me represent her. She's pretty scrappy isn't she? Dr. House, this smells...I looked at her file and it just doesn't make sense. She was put in prison for smuggling, not a violent felony, and she was a model prisoner. I believe her. I don't think a jury is going to buy the kid's story but she'll be in jail for quite awhile waiting to prove it." House felt sick to his stomach. "I'll try to talk her into letting you represent her." He went down to the women's jail and waited at a table in a room with bare walls and dirty floors. Reagan was brought in, looking smaller and more petite than usual. She was swimming in the bright orange jail apparel. "You look lovely in that shade of orange." "Why are you here? Please go home, please don't try to help me. People who help me just end up with more headaches than it's worth. Please Greg." "Bite me." He said gently and then smiled. "I'm going to break in to your home and get some paperwork for the attorney. She needs your prison release documents and felony case file. She said you probably have a copy of it at your apartment." Reagan gave up fighting him. She knew House and alsoknew that he wasn't going to give up. "In my bottom dresser drawer. Can you pick up my mail too and take it in? You'll find a key taped under the third step going up. I don't want you breaking the lock." "The attorney says their case is weak and she doesn't think it will fly but you may sit in here for awhile." "That's good. That it's weak I mean." "I'm sending her back tomorrow and you're going to let her represent you or you can forget your job when you come back." She chuckled, "Okay." She still had a hard time looking him in the eye. "Why are you avoiding looking at me?" "All this time I wasn't sure if you knew about the felony; you never mentioned it. I put it down on the application, but Ken said you didn't know. I should have suspected. If you had read it you would have taunted me and teased me about it. I feel like a fraud. Like you've seen me as one person and now that's a lie." "Do you think I give a flying Fuck about your time in prison? Other than it is kind of hot and I keep jerking off to visions of you in handcuffs. It just explains a lot about you. Now I know why you can't get another job, why you ... you know. And just so you know, that's going to stop too. That could add time onto your sentence and so it stops today." "Don't tell me what to do." He smiled, the Reagan he knew was starting to poke her head out. "It's not an option." "Then you can keep your attorney. I won't be owing to anyone. I won't let you control me just because I let you hire me an attorney." He put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. "You are incorrigible. Okay, don't take the attorney, but you're still going to stop street walking." "I'm not having this conversation, especially with you. You're a John...you support what I do. Until you stop being a John, then you can't tell me to stop turning tricks." "We'll talk about this when we spring you from jail." At the arraignment on Monday afternoon she had been remanded without bail because she was considered a flight risk; she had no contacts with the community except for her job. House went to her studio on Tuesdaym found the key, retrieved her mail and went inside. There was a mailgram from a bank in California notifying her that her aunt had died on Saturday and they were taking over her estate as trustees. Her aunt was being cremated and the memorial was being held Wednesday. House knew that this news was going to crush her. He went to see her on Wednesday, "I have bad news for you, I'm sorry." He handed her the mailgram. She started crying, sobbing. She put her head down on the table and cried some more. House went around the table and put his arm around her. A guard came over. "Back to the other side." House handed him the mailgram and the guard said, "Okay, two minutes and then you're out of here." House grabbed a chair and pulled it next to her, picked her up and held her head to his chest. She clung on to him like a raft in a storm. He kissed the top of her head. House squeezed her hard and realized their time was just about up. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped her tears. She looked at him and started laughing, "Who still carries Hankies?" "Obviously, sophisticated, intelligent men do. They're going to kick me out soon. Is there anything you want me to do?" "No, but thanks. Thanks for everything Greg. You've been a good friend." He laughed at her, a good friend. He pulled her chin up and kissed her deeply. She kissed back. "You're my favorite jailbird but you smell like a urinal." "Thanks." She said sarcastically. "All right, that's enough, break it up you two. Time to go." the guard nodded towards the exit. He kissed her quickly on the mouth and then got up to go. She was sitting in her orange outfit with red puffy eyes and red nose and he still thought she looked sweet. He went back to her apartment and listened to her voice mail. Two guys, Calvin and Peter kept asking where she was and why she hadn't shown up. He called them both back using their caller I.D.s. "I'm sorry to inform you but your favorite hooker has retired. She's hung up her corset and garter belt. Time for you to deal with your wife. Thank you." House told everyone, including Cuddy that Reagan's aunt died and she had to fly out to handle her estate. Cuddy was fine with it as long as House was. House told Wilson the truth. "She's a hooker and a felon? How well do you know this woman?" "Well enough that I hired her an attorney." "OH-ho! You spent your own money on an attorney for a woman? The Goth Tart?" "Your point being?" "Just that you rarely part with your money. You don't usually go out of your way to take care of people. Okay, the exception was Stacey. But this is so strange. I feel like savoring the moment. "Can we focus on the problem? Her preliminary hearing isn't for another three weeks. She can't stay in there that long, she'll smell of urine on a permanent basis." "Well, you're the detective. If the cops are so convinced she did it, I doubt they did a thorough investigation. Maybe you could snoop around?" House thought about it and agreed. He forced Wilson to go to the theater with him. He took down the names of the people that remembered them being at the theater that night. Thank God Reagan had looked so hot and he walked with a cane. One pimple faced popcorn pusher told House, "Yeah, we couldn't figure out why such a sweet babe as her was with you. Sorry man, but that's why we remember you...because she was so hot and well, you're not." House went down the street and looked around the alley to see if there were any apartments or any advantage points for a human to have seen what had happened. He almost hugged Wilson when he saw it. He elbowed him and pointed up. On a warehouse garage door in the alleyway was a camera. House was just praying it was working. He went around to the front and found it belonged to Max Out, an electronics store. House asked the oldest person in the store which appeared to be a guy about twenty- five years old, about the camera, "Dude, there was a crime here last Saturday night and we need to see your surveillance tape from that day. Did you keep it?" "It circulates and tapes over itself every week. So, if this is Friday, we probably still have Saturday's tape." House was cautious. It would probably show nothing. As they played it back they fast forwarded until they reached the evening. At 8:00 pm it was just getting dark and they could see a figure, the druggie, come down the alleyway and wait in a doorway. You could tell that he heard someone coming because he came out of hiding. He starts to brandish the knife. Unfortunately, both House and Reagan were off camera. And then they saw it. Like a shiny beacon, the light was bouncing off the metal of House's cane. You could see House's hand, his cane and sneakers. House and Wilson smiled at each other. The kid lunged and the rest happened off camera. Within half an hour, House and Wilson were in the lobby of the police station making quite a fuss. House had called Ken and Reagan's attorney, both of who were on their way to the police station. House was talking to the cop at the front, "Get Detective Jansen and tell him that if he doesn't get the D.A. to release Reagan Grogan, she's going to sue them for false arrest. We have objective proof that she's innocent." Within an hour, Reagan's attorney and the Probation officer were speaking privately to the Assistant District Attorney about releasing Reagan. When they emerged from the meeting they were smiling. House jumped up and limped over to them as fast as possible. "Well? Is she getting out?" "They called and had her released within five minutes of us showing the tape. She's being processed right now. You can go over and pick her up in about half an hour. We spent most of our time talking about a settlement." "Settlement?" "They wanted to see if they could head off a lawsuit by Reagan for false arrest. If she does sue they'll drag her through the mud, she'd have to take that into consideration." House shook his head, "Right now I just want to get her home and give her a shower." They all looked at him. Ken said, "I thought you were her boss?" "I mean she stinks...I didn't mean me give her the shower." But of course he did mean that. As they pulled up to the municipal jail for women they saw a petite blonde sitting on the steps in her white clam diggers and black tank top, white high heels. She stood up and went over to the car, leaned in and said, "Hey sailors, new in town?" "I told you those days are over." House gave her a big grin and she got in back. "God, it feels so good to be out. What happened? Did they let me out on bail?" "Didn't they tell you?" "No, I just got called up and was told I was getting out." "The charges have been dropped. We found a camera that caught the guy on film. The D.A. is worried that you're going to file suit for false arrest. Seems their case was flimsy and they knew it...especially since they didn't even bother to properly investigate it." "I don't want a lawsuit." "Get an attorney and sue them." House said. "Nah, they'll force you to testify and the whole prison thing will come out. I just want to go home, get cleaned up and go to bed." "I have a bathtub and you don't. You need to soak that smell off." House turned and looked at her. "You look like you've had one of those lesbian encounters. Please tell us all about it." "Sorry, no lesbian encounters. I did spend time with a bipolar woman. That was a roller coaster ride I don't want to go on again." "No thanks." House frowned. "Seriously folks, where am I taking you?" Wilson asked. "My place." House and Reagan said simultaneously. "I need to get cleaned up. I need clothes to change into. I need sleep." House looked defeated, "Okay, her place." Wilson pulled up to Reagan's apartment and they both got out. "What are you doing?" Reagan asked House. "I'm coming inside." "Why?" "I just rescued your butt, you owe me." "And what do I owe you?" "Your eternal gratitude and maybe you'll let me watch you take a bath?" She ducked down to say goodbye to Wilson, "It's okay, he can stay. Thanks Jim, thanks a lot." "Take care Reagan. Glad you're home." Wilson said. "Thanks." Reagan turned to House, "Come on, let's get inside." Chapter 13 Friends with Big Benefits I opened the door and thought my little studio smelled a little musty from being closed up. I looked around and saw that House had opened my mail, including a letter from a felon girlfriend still in Dublin and my quarterly probation report. I felt that strange mixture of being exhausted but wired. I was tense all through my body and I started rubbing my neck. House came up behind me and started kissing my neck. I was nervous about letting him do anything, I didn't really know where we stood. And his comment about me "owing" him kept going through my head. Owe? Prison life is all about who you owe on the inside. He said with some authority, "You're really salty. Grab some clothes, not too many because you won't be in them much, and let's get going." "I'm not going anywhere, I'm going to bed." "We agree that you're going to bed, but first I'm going to run you a bath. You're going to soak, I'm going to fix you dinner, you're going to lay down, I'm going to rub your feet and then you're going to go to sleep after my lap dance." "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of that lap dance thing." "I'm joking, now get your clothes and let's go. This place is musty." "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." I started putting my clothes into a plastic bag, "But we both know that you aren't joking about that lap dance." "Well, you don't have to dance too much, you could just sit there and let me feel you up." "Oh, come on. I'm too tired to fight and that bath sounds great right now." We got to his apartment and I followed him in. I went into the living room, flopped down on his sofa and put my head back. I heard him make his way back to the bathroom and start the bath. The water pouring out sounded so delicious. I couldn't wait. I got up, grabbed the plastic bag of clothes and went back to his bedroom. He was still in the bathroom doing something. After seeing that big bed in front of me, I didn't know which sounded better, a bath or bed. I took off my shoes, socks, and pants and rifled through his drawer for a t-shirt. I was in my panties and bra when I went into his bathroom. It was so sweet, he had two pretty pathetic aromatic candles lit for me, a fresh bar of Dove soap and there was a plastic cup. I could hear him in the kitchen doing something. I took off my bra and turned to see him come into the bathroom, stop in his tracks and grin. "You have a great set of knockers." He said as he handed me something. It was a mimosa with a strawberry in it. I wasn't sure how fresh a strawberry would be coming from his refrigerator, but at that point, I could care less. I sat it down next to the bathtub. He put an empty glass next to the chair and I looked at him questioningly. "In case you want to rinse your hair." I nodded and then looked at his lovely blue eyes. I slipped my panties off, got into the tub. I was in heaven. I looked at him and said, "Well? Are you going to stand there or are you going to get in?" He put his mimosa down next to mine and in what seemed like two moves he was naked and climbing in behind me. I leaned back on him. "Whew...your hair smells terrible. Get your hair wet." I dunked my head back and as I did I could look up into his blue eyes. I watched him look at my breasts sticking out of the water. He was so predictable. I sat up, my hair dripping wet. He reached in the corner on the tub and grabbed the Johnson Baby Shampoo and poured it in his palms. He put the shampoo on the crown of my head and started to lather it up. It felt so calming and relaxing. I didn't want him to stop. He took the empty glass and started to rinse my hair. He did it so slowly and gently I was starting to fall asleep. When he was done, I leaned back on his chest, He took the washcloth and soap, lathered it up and started to wash my body, slowly, carefully, like I was a china vase. When he was done he put his long arm across my chest and pulled me back into him. I fell asleep for a few minutes. I woke to him kissing me lightly on my neck. "Come on, let's get you to bed." I sat up, drank the last of my mimosa and stood up. I was embarrassed by how dirty the water looked from the filth in my hair. But he didn't tease me, I stepped out, grabbed the towel he had left out for me and dried off. He did the same. I put on his t-shirt and my clean panties, combed through my hair and was ready for sleep. I walked into his bedroom and crawled into bed. The sheets smelled like him and it made me glad that I had agreed to come to his place. He crawled into bed with me, pulled me over to him and spooned me. I woke up the next morning and he was gone. I crawled over to his side and smelled his pillow, it made me smile. Then I remembered his web cams. I looked up to the general location of where it had to be and gave it the middle finger. A minute later I heard the phone ring. I wasn't sure if I should pick it up. From the caller I.D. I could see it was PPTH so I picked it up. "Hello?" My voice was raspy from just waking up. "I see you're up and feeling better. You didn't have to flip me off. I was just admiring how gorgeous you are when you sleep. Did I just see you sniff my pillow?" "Yeah, it smelled really funny." "So you decided to lay your head on it to prevent the smell from wafting up?" "Something like that." "How are you feeling?" "Much better. Why are you at work?" "New patient. I got the call around 4:00 a.m. I'm surprised you slept through the call." "Yeah, normally I'm a very light sleeper." "I bet in the pen you have to be afraid of getting shanked in the middle of the night...oooh or better yet, having someone play with your yoo hoo?" He paused, "Did someone in the pen play with your yoo hoo? I'm getting a little turned on here just thinking about you kissing another woman." "House! For god's sake, I had no lesbian encounters. Do we have to talk about prison?" 'Yeah, of course we do. How hot is it that you're not only a hooker but a felon? Now if you could just have that lesbian kiss it would make the perfect trifecta." "I'm ending this conversation and going back to sleep." I held up a finger at the web cam. "No, no, no..." he sounded like a little boy begging. "Stop flipping me off. Show me your breasts." "No. How do I know that Chase and Foreman aren't standing behind your shoulder watching?" "I wouldn't share that with them, at least not until they paid for the privilege of a peak. They're not here. Come on, this is the ultimate phone sex. You can describe what you're doing while I watch." "Go back to your patient." "We're waiting for the MRI results. Come on, pleeeeaaasseee." I sat up in the bed and looked up, took off my top and laid back down. I put a hand on my breast and fondled it for him. I heard deep breathing. "Oh, man. You don't know just how hot this is." He said and then I heard him swallow hard. I stuck my hand under the sheet and pretended to place it between my legs. "Come on, I know you're faking it. Just let yourself go. You can do it. Take the sheet off." "No." "I swear that there's no one in here with me. There better not be considering where my hand is and what I'm doing. Come on." I pushed back the sheet and rubbed my thighs up and down. The sensation was nice and sensual. The fact that House was watching added to it. I slipped my hand into my panties while the other hand fondled my breast. I played with myself and then started masturbating in earnest. I could hear his breath get shallower and faster. I came, closing my eyes and screaming. When I was done, I heard him, "Ah..ah...ah...oh man, what a mess. Crap, gotta go." Click. He was gone. I pulled the sheet up over me and thought how strange it was to have the technology to do that. I went back to sleep. About two hours later I felt hands on my breasts and then his lips on my belly. I opened my eyes and he was sucking on my nipples. He came up and kissed me on the lips. I could feel his hard-on pressed against my thigh and so I reached down to touch it. He stopped doing what he was doing and concentrated on the touch of my hand on him. He finally opened his eyes and looked at me. He smiled so sweetly at me that I had to kiss him. He felt warm and both soft and firm. He continued to kiss me and then rolled to the right, pulling me on top. I didn't ride him yet. I pulled off again and licked him while I used my thumb to stroke him at the bottom of his shaft. He was watching all of this and then closed his eyes. I pulled up and started to straddle him. I remembered just in time, "Wait, we need a condom." I reached over into the top drawer and pulled one out. I took it out of its package and handed it to him. He put it on and I climbed on top. I immediately flexed my muscles and he smiled. I kept it as tight as I could while I rode up and down, occasionally grinding in a circle as I went down and up. He had his hands on my breasts and I sat straight up. I finally leaned over him, letting him suck on my breasts while he screwed me. He held my butt in place while he gave me several long, deliberate thrusts. He grimaced, his eyes crinkled and he held his breath and then there were four short thrusts accompanied by, "Oh Fuck, Fuck...and then he collapsed back down. I couldn't resist, I knew he'd be really sensitive right now, so I constricted my muscles and he cried out. His face contorted and he pleaded, "No, no!" I laughed. He shook his head, "You minx." I slowly pulled off of him and fell off to the side. He stuck his fingers in me and started to play with my clit with the ball of his thumb. It felt so good. I lay still, letting him do all the work. He pumped his fingers in and out while rubbing my clitoris. When the orgasm came I started to thrust, my thighs and butt tight. I could feel the contractions and waves of pleasure start like a heavy sensation in my vagina and spread like fire through me. I opened my mouth to let a moan escape. After the waves came to an end, I waited for him to withdraw his fingers. Instead he gave me a few extra thrusts, knowing I would be sensitive too. I pulled away quickly from his hand. "You ornery boy." "You deserved it." He kissed me. I looked at the clock, it was noon. "God, did I sleep that long?" "Yeah. Come here, don't get up just yet, I'm having a girlie moment, I need a cuddle." I held him and smelled him and touched him and then I remembered. "You have that damn web cam going don't you? You just videoed us having sex, didn't you?" "I honestly forgot all about it. I just saw a naked woman in my bed and had to have her." I looked in his eyes and didn't believe him for one minute. "House I want you to erase it. Go get your laptop and erase it...now!" "Okay, okay. God, a guy can't even get a cuddle these days." He brought the laptop back and I saw that he had been taping for the last twenty-four hours. The tape erased every 36 hours unless saved by the user. He played back the sex and I have to admit, we looked hot together. "Ah, please, can't I keep it? Don't we look good together? We fit so well. Look at your perky breasts. You'll have proof when you're sixty of how perky they were. And look how cute you are when you come." "Yeah and how ugly you are when you come. Erase it or I will." "Please, I promise I won't share it or post it on my space." "Now." He reluctantly hit the delete button and watched as it quickly disappeared. He was genuinely upset. "Don't be such a baby. Now, what about my little show for you this morning. Let's erase it too." He was much more willing to erase the phone sex than the sex tape. His lack of resistence sent alarms off in my head. "You've already saved this to your computer at work, haven't you?" He looked guilty and I knew I'd have to erase it when I got to work on Monday. "Okay, one last thing. Empty your trash." He was sure I wouldn't think to do that, but he didn't know jailbirds very well, we were good at covering our tracks. "Please, please, let me keep it? I won't share, I promise. I'll just use it on cold winter nights." I looked at him and smiled, "Why don't you just use the real thing?" "Because I don't know from one day to the next how you'll feel about me. One night we're laughing and having a good time, the next thing I know you won't go out with me." "Out with you? You didn't ask me out, you wanted to hire my...my yoo-hoo." "You said you were short on money. I figured Saturday must be your big night to make some. I didn't want to take bread out of your mouth. So, I thought I'd pay you to date me...just so you could eat." Wilson had been right all along. House was just trying to be a good guy, for once. But how can any man be so clueless that he doesn't realize that by hiring me he makes me feel cheap and worthless? "Did it ever occur to you that by hiring me you were sending a message that you wanted sex without strings, without having to get to know me, to deal with me as a human? When you pay for it, you get the whore. I desperately wanted you to ask me out, just to go out with me...not my yoo-hoo." I could see that he finally understood. His face seemed to get even longer and his eyes were pleading with me to try and understand him. He looked like a puppy that had just gotten his nose rubbed in pee. "I didn't know. I had planned on paying the service and then taking you to dinner and a movie. If we had sex, great, but I just wanted your company." Ok, I shouldn't have let him see how I felt because I learned from Robert Jakes that once a man knows he's hooked you, you're his slave, but I started crying. I started sobbing. It must have thrown him for a loop because he didn't know what to do. He touched me like hot coals, very delicately and tentatively. "Please tell me these are happy tears and not, 'it's too late tears'?" "Oh fuck. It's been over six years since any man has said they wanted to spend time with me...me. And even six years ago the guy really wanted to spend time with my luggage, not me. I'm warning you House, I am clueless when it comes to relationships. Mine have all died unnatural deaths. You might want to run." "Yeah, well I'm 48 and I've been so successful that I sleep alone most nights." He started stroking my hair. "You know, one thing we haven't discussed is your stupid heroics the other night. Next time, give the asshole your money." "Oh give me a break, between my moves and your cane, I knew we could take him. I've dodged bigger shanks." "I thought you were in a cosey happy farm for five years?" "Oh, there were moments." "From now on, you give them the money." "But he only had a knife." "Yeah and 9 times out of 10 the knife can kill you." "Spoil sport." I said. He laughed, "You crushed that guy's ball. You think he'll think twice before pulling a knife on a woman?" "No, I think he'll bring a gun next time." He started chuckling. "Ok, I'll bite, what?" "You really are a ball buster." "Yeah," I grabbed his, "and guess what I have in this hand." "Be gentle, I've been very good to you." I let go and grabbed him, giving him one of those, 'I'm so happy' hugs. He kissed the top of my head in return. I knew this wouldn't last, that these feelings would morph over time into something else, maybe better, maybe worse, but I was damn determined to experience them while I had them. It had been a long time since I had been happy, really, really happy. He was laying flat on the blue-gray sheets and I was laying across his chest, I reached over, found the trash can icon on his laptop and emptied it. "Oh, nooooo." House frowned. He swatted me on my butt. "Does anyone know about my situation at work?" "Just Wilson." He started to get up, "I'm hungry." We got cleaned up and went out to a late lunch. On the way to the restaurant I grabbed my cell phone, but it was dead. I looked at House, "Can I use your cell?" He handed it to me, "I need to get my voice mails." House winced. We pulled into the parking lot of the local caf,. He parked the car and turned around to face me. "What's up with you?" I asked. House was reluctant to tell me, "Well, I may have told a couple of your tricks that you were no longer available for anymore good times, that they should patch things up with their wives." I was floored, I was so stunned I couldn't talk. My body tensed and I leaned my head back. "What were you thinking? This isn't your life. It's mine. You just cut my income in half. I won't be able to make it." "Yes you will. We'll figure something out. What about your aunt? I thought you said you were her only family?" "I am." "Won't she leave you something?" "I don't know, I don't care. I can't rely on dead relative's money to make it." "Then come and live with me until you can find another, legitimate job. I'll pay the rent and utilities. It's the least I can do." "And my thighs can just be at your disposal anytime you want, right? Live with you? We're barely at a point where we're talking to each other again." "Last woman I asked to live with me moved in five days after I met her and stayed five years." "And left." I was looking out the window as the old couple in front of the car stopped and looked at us, then continued on to the front door of the restaurant, "I could try writing Harlequin Novels again, but that takes six months before I get my first check." "Then live with me for six months and then you can leave, if you want to." "I don't believe you. You know it's ironic, before I went to prison I would have jumped at the offer. I'd be packing to move in, but I'm scared now. I find it harder to trust my feelings, trust men. I want to believe in you and what you're asking me to do." He gave me one of those House looks like I didn't understand; I was a moron, "Let's just jump off a cliff for once, see what happens." "You're asking me to be a romantic. Been there, done that..gave five years of my life for that cause." He grabbed me, "Listen to me, we're both gun shy, but don't you think at some point we have to pull the trigger?" "I don't know, I wasn't the one shot." "Kiss me." So I kissed him and the next day I packed my bags and moved in with Greg House. Chapter 14 Taken for Granted Monday arrived and Greg House was happy to be going to work. He was tired from moving all day Sunday. Reagan had done the lion's share of the move and was still working on unpacking. She had rented the furnished studio on a six month lease and the lease had run out on July 1st. She was now renting month to month. She gave the landlord 30 days notice and over the next week she went back each day to get more of her things and to clean the apartment to get her deposit back. Ralph told her that if she ever wanted a rental reference, he'd give it to her. Making room in House's apartment wasn't easy. In fact, there wasn't room for most of her stuff and House had her store several boxes in his rented garage where he kept his car when he wasn't using his motorcycle. He also stored a lot of things in the double car garage such as his bicycle, rock climbing equipment, camping gear, things that he no longer used. House loved her energy, he found it amusing to watch. He sat on the couch with the television turned on as a ruse, but he was really watching her unpack and try to find room for her things. There had been a couple of tiffs over where she could put her books and clothes, but the tiffs were punctuated by makeup sex in the living room, kitchen, dining area and on the piano. Part of the reason he sat on the couch was to engage her, when possible, in an argument so he could then enjoy makeup sex. "Why are you picking a fight with me over this? I just want to hang my photo of my mother, aunt and I. Is that too much to ask?" "It's where you want to hang it. You want to take down my framed cocktail menu from Studio 54 signed by Andy Warhol." "Yeah, I do. It's that or that strange piece of art on the side wall there." "No, you can't hang it there. That strange art cost me $4990." "You were had. So, I suppose you want me to hang it in your bathroom?" "Our bathroom. That sounds like a great solution." "Bullsh!t, I'm not doing that. I don't get it, you ask me to move in and you won't let me make it my home too." "Well, I didn't think you would want to strip me of Andy Warhol." She stomped off into the bedroom and slammed the door. He smiled, perfect. He hobbled over, took down the crappy art that really only cost him $49.90 and put up her photo. Then he waited. After a half hour she came out to get something to drink and saw the photo hanging up. She looked at him on the couch and was so moved by his gesture that she ran over and jumped on the couch, kissed him deeply and started taking her clothes off. House figured this was their fifth round of make-up sex in 48 hours. He wondered when she was going to catch on. He had started stashing condoms in couches, chairs under rugs, anywhere he thought they might end up screwing. He had to admit his pecker was starting to get a little raw and he probably needed to give it a rest. But she was so gloriously happy when they made up that she was even more committed to making the sex good for him. And the great sex made him so happy that he reciprocated. "We need to get birth control nailed down. What exactly are you doing to prevent little Houses from being constructed?" He asked. "I'm making sure you put on a condom. I was using the diaphragm but the sex has been too impromptu for me to find the time to use it. I can stop everything and go into the bathroom and insert it but it will certainly take the wind out of your sail if I do." "Why not the pill or the patch?" "I have migraines." "Crap. Okay, but just one time I'd like to feel you without latex." "I thought you always used a condom, you keep telling the team that." "For casual sex. If I'm monogamous, then we can dispense of it as long as we're both clear of STDs...which means we both need to get tested." "I just got my results yesterday and I'm clean as a whistle. Now you need to get tested." "Consider it done." At work they tried desperately to act like they always acted so that no one would suspect. House was working hard, over the next month he had three patients come in one after another. He also worked a lot of clinic hours. House came out to give her a tape to transcribe full of notes for patient charts and was preoccupied with the fact that the patient was slipping quickly. Chase was reviewing websites on blood disorders because of the patient's blood counts. "Here, chart notes. Oh, we need milk, can you get some?" House asked, handing the tape to Reagan. She looked at Chase who turned and looked at her. "Sure," Reagan answered. After House left, Chase pounced. "We need milk?" "Well how do you think the milk appears in that little refrigerator over there?" "Cameron and I buy it." "Really? Hmmm. I wonder what happens to the milk I bring in?" Chase looked amused. He rolled his pencil between his fingers and smiled, "Look. You two have been nice to each other. He doesn't watch you every minute of the day like he used to. He looks like he cares about what he wears...at least someone is taking his shirts out of the dryer and hanging them before they get wrinkled. He looks and acts happier and calmer. He isn't as abusive and the breast jokes have decreased. And now he wants you to buy milk. Are you dating?" "Chase, I really don't want anyone to know." "I haven't shared my suspicions with anyone. I frankly am enjoying the reprieve from his usual abuse. So you are dating?" I looked at him without expression, "Yes. We're dating." "I don't know how you handle him." "I know. But he's been good to me, really. He's different one on one. And he's good one on one. Really, really good." House came back out to the office, "Chase have you found anything?" "Not yet." House went out to the hall and disappeared in the direction of the elevator. As he did, a man with a camera and a woman with a notepad showed up in the office. Chase looked up and registered curiosity, "Can I help you?" "We're looking for Reagan Grogan." Chase automatically glanced Reagan's way, diverting their attention to her. Foreman and Cameron came through the door and looked at the man and woman. The woman walked near Reagan's desk. "Are you Reagan?" Before Reagan responded to her question, she asked, "Who are you?" "I'm Daphne Langstrom and this is Simon Mirren, we're from the Enquirer. We were provided a security tape on DVD from a Max Out electronics store. The owner said that this man attacked you and," she paused to look at a notepad, "a Dr. Gregory House one night and you singlehandedly took him out, but that the perpetrator claimed you were shaking him down and the police took his word over yours because of your record." House walked in and sensing that something was wrong from the scared look on Reagan's face, "Who the hell are you?" "You must be Dr. House and his cane. We saw it on the DVD. Can we get a statement from you about the improper treatment of you and Reagan by the police? We understand that they refused to believe you guys because of Reagan's prison record." Cameron jumped up and left the office. She went down to the first floor to get Dr. Cuddy and let her know that the press was in House's office. "Out...get out." House picked up his cane as if he was going to strike the journalists. "Hey, we're on your side. We're going to make Reagan a hero...she was a hero. If she hadn't been a felon, she wouldn't have been charged with assault and additional probation charges. House was furious, "Out!" They started to leave. She put her card on the table, "Here Reagan, when you want to talk. We'll write the story with or without your input. But, it would look better if you said something. You too Dr, House." They left. Reagan ran over to House and he put his arm around her. Foreman looked at Chase, noting that Chase didn't look surprised at all by House's display of affection. Reagan broke away and went into House's office and sat down. House looked at the two Fellows, "Well, we still have a patient dying..GET BACK TO WORK." House went in with Reagan. "Hey, it's okay, don't worry." "Now Chase, Cameron and Foreman know I'm a felon. And Cameron just went running off to Cuddy." "I know, Cuddy will...speak of the she-devil." Cuddy was looking worried and agitated. She pushed through the door and looked at Reagan and then at House. Cameron, Chase and Foreman joined them. "Where are they?" Cuddy asked. House was calm, "They're gone." Cuddy looked around as if she was trying to think things through, "Reagan, what is this woman talking about? Cameron said she mentioned the police and that you have a criminal record." House looked annoyed, "Reagan and I were walking one night, we were attacked by a guy with a knife. When Reagan wouldn't give the junkie her money, he lunged. She took him down, busted one of his testicles and the junkie, who didn't have a record, claimed we attacked him in a bad drug deal. It was sorted out and nothing happened." "House, the Enquirer is here...there has to be an angle to the story that you haven't told me. Reagan do you have a criminal record?" She looked at House and sighed deeply, "Yes, I was in prison for five years for smuggling cocaine. I know you're not going to believe me, but I was framed by my boyfriend, I went to jail and he went to well...somewhere." "I can't let a felon, a drug smuggler, work at the hospital around drugs. Are you still on probation?" "I was just released a week ago. Now I'm just an ex-con." House was aggravated, "She put it down on her application. She didn't hide it." "You did?" she asked and Reagan nodded. "Well, I wonder why Sarah didn't tell me?" "Please Dr. Cuddy, I need this job. I've been here five months and I've performed well, haven't I?" "House hasn't complained. But if this gets out, the Board is going to wonder why we hired a felon drug smuggler to be a drug abuser's secretary." House was finding it hard to control his anger, "She was framed, she doesn't do drugs, she doesn't sell drugs and she's good at her job. She didn't lie on her application, so why fire her?" "Reagan, I like you. I hear good things about you. I'll give you a great reference and so will House, but you have to understand. If your story gets blown up all over, questions are going to be asked about us and why we have felons working at the hospital. I'm sorry, you have a half hour to get your stuff packed up and we'll have your check waiting for you in human resources." House couldn't hold it in, "You can't do this, she's my secretary." "I can do this, and I promise you she'll get a good reference." Cameron, Chase and Foreman were all visibly upset too. "Dr. Cuddy, I just thought you should know what the Enquirer was saying. Is it really necessary to fire her now? Why don't you wait and see if anything happens?" Cameron asked. "Please don't make this harder than it is." Cuddy turned and walked out. Reagan looked at Cameron, "Thanks Cameron, you've got what you wanted since I walked in here five months ago." Reagan walked back to her desk and started to pack up. Cameron followed her and in an agitated voice yelled, "I didn't tell her to fire you. I just told her that the Enquirer said you were a felon." "Oh, Cam, you can't be that naive. You knew Cuddy might fire me if you told her. But it's okay. I think you really are sorry." House was on the phone with a labor attorney who said that Cuddy had a right to fire Reagan. She was an "at will" employee and she could be fired for wearing pink if she wanted to do so. He threw the phone down and went out to Reagan's desk. Foreman and Chase were helping Reagan. Cameron was gone. Reagan looked up at House. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, "You want me to take you home?" "No, I can drive. Thanks." He walked over to her and gave her a hug and a kiss, shocking both Foreman and Chase at this rather sweet display of affection. "Okay, you two, get back to work on the patient." House barked. Reagan went down and picked up her check and took it to the bank. She went and packed out the rest of her things from the studio and went back to the apartment, collapsing in the easy chair. House came home with pizza. "You'll be okay, I'll take care of you until you can find something else." "I'm going to go home." "What do you mean?" "I've tried so hard to get a job here, to find a way to make a living and everything I do falls apart. I'm going to go back to San Diego and see if my friends can help me." "Is that it? What about us?" "I can't take your money. I can't just sit around. You've taken away my night job and now I don't have my day job. I'm back to square one. It's as if I just got out of prison all over again." "Oh boo hoo. Now you can start writing again. You can't complain that you don't have time. Start writing your romance novels." "I don't know. I really don't like the idea of you supporting me until I can get the royalty checks." "Let's watch Jeopardy and you can think about it." For the next few days House would come home and find Reagan either in bed asleep or on the couch asleep. She was severely depressed. He wrote her a prescription for Welbutrin and brought some samples home for her. "I don't want to take drugs. That's what the world expects of a felon." "It's a prescription for anti-depressants. If you don't take it, I'll start making your life a living hell." "Start?" She managed a smile and a hug. That night they were laying in bed, she had her head on his bare chest and he had his arm around her. They were sharing stories about their childhood. "Your father was an assistant in the State Department? How come your Mom was broke when she died?" House started stroking her hair "Dad left us when I was thirteen, had three more kids with the new wife and I never saw him again; except on my birthday he would come over and drop off a gift. He once took me to dinner for my middle school graduation, but that was just a ruse to tell me he was getting married and going overseas again. My mom didn't get much out of the divorce and worked long hours to make ends meet. She never complained so neither did I." She stopped and sighed, "You know she never said a bad word about my Dad, ever." "She sounds too good to be true." "She smoked." "Ah, the tragic flaw." House chuckled. He continued stroking her hair until he was pretty sure she was asleep. Her body was more relaxed and her breathing was deeper. He knew that even though he often found her asleep when he got home, she was only sleeping in dribs and drabs. She didn't sleep for more than an hour at a time and sometimes he would wake up from the leg pain and she would be watching television at 2:00 am. He was worried about her. He could make her sleep with pills and could make things a little easier with anti-depressants but she was losing her self-confidence. He leaned down to her as she slept on his chest, "I love you Reagan." She was drifting off to sleep feeling sleepy now that he was home. His smell, his warmth, the hair on his chest, it all made her feel safe and protected. The last thing she remembered as her mind let go of the day was, "I love you Reagan." She wasn't sure if she said it aloud or just in her head, "I love you too Greg." The next day Cuddy approached House and Wilson as they walked in. House refused to look at her. "House, I had to do it. Her story is all over the paper now. Have you seen it?" He grabbed the paper out of her hand and saw the article, Ex-con Takes on the Bad Guys, Saves Local Doctor Police Take the Knife Wielding Drug Addict's Word over Hers She Stays in Jail until Security Tape Verifies Her Story Reagan Grogan, 37, of Princeton, who served a five year prison sentence for drug smuggling, was released from jail last month after police discovered she was telling the truth about a scuffle she was in on July 2nd. Grogan and her employer, Dr. Gregory House of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, had been walking to their cars when Denis Ottilie, 20, of Trenton, jumped out from an alleyway brandishing a knife and demanding money. Grogan refused to give her money to Ottilie who then attacked her with his knife. Grogan managed to disarm Ottilie and wrestle him to the ground, bursting one of Ottilie's testicles in doing so. Ottilie, who, until now had a clean record, claimed Grogan and House turned violent when he would not sell them drugs. Because of Grogan's record, the police refused to believe her and placed her under arrest for aggravated assault and possession of a weapon in violation of her probation. Grogan spent a week in jail without bail until a security tape from the local electronics store proved her innocent. Grogan was released but, as a result of the arrest, lost her job at Princeton Plainsboro Hospital. Local civil attorney, Jonathan Belensky said that the actions of the police were grounds for a hefty civil suit and he felt Grogan had a good claim against the city. Grogan, who used to be an English professor contested her original drug smuggling conviction claiming that her boyfriend had snuck the cocaine into her suitcase and that she had been framed. House looked up at Cuddy, "It's pretty accurate for once." Cuddy was wistful and somewhat sad, "I went back and looked at her resume, it was remarkable. She has a doctorate, she wrote one novel and several Harlequin Novels. Her novel was considered well-written by most of the critics. I'm really sorry I had to do what I did. We have received a couple of calls from the public, who apparently like someone crushing a knife wielding druggie's balls, suggesting we take her back. But I can't, the Chairman of the Board is against it." She turned to go and then stopped in her tracks, "Oh! By the way, congratulations on that Grant, I didn't even know you had put in for that. What are you going to do with the extra $80,000?" "Grant?" "The Laeki-Hasbro Grant. We just received notice that you are going to receive it. Didn't you put in for it? I have a copy of the grant application." Wilson looked at House, "Did Cameron submit it?" "Let me see the application." They went to where the business files were kept and Cuddy pulled it. House snickered, "That looks like my signature, but it isn't. It's too good a forgery to be Cameron, it must have been Reagan." House said it right in Cuddy's face, with emphasis on the word "Reagan." "I didn't say she wasn't a good employee. Well, if you see her, tell her thanks." As Wilson and House got on the elevator Wilson turned to House, "Are you seeing her?" "She's living with me." "What? You're living with a woman again? I..I. I don't know what to say!" "Silence would be advisable, anything you could say wouldn't be intelligible anyway." House said as he exited the elevator. "I think it's great! I like Reagan, she's smart and very sassy. She'll keep you on your toes. In fact, I think I feel sorry for you more than her. She won't take your crap and you, my friend will find yourself having to make changes that you've been avoiding." "Yeah, well right now she's so depressed over losing her job I can't get her out of bed. Which normally would be a good thing, but isn't in this case." "Do you love her?" House frowned at his friend and looked away for a second, "What, you worried I won't have enough room in my heart for you? Don't worry Jimmy, you're my one true love." House ducked into his office leaving Wilson with a knowing grin, House was in love. Regan had begun to write again and found it very cathartic. She started to tell her tale of drug smuggling, the trial, the sentence. She fictionalized it so that she could take liberties with the characters, but for the most part, it was based on her own life. She enjoyed writing followed by breaks to do housework or cooking so that she could think about her novel. Reagan was finishing the burritos and putting them in the oven when she heard the doorknob click. A smile appeared across her face automatically, House was home. More often than not when House got home he was grumpy. He wanted to be left alone, but Reagan, who spent most of her day alone, wanted company. Their clash over this issue had been the worst fight since she had started living with him several months ago. It was decided that she could say anything she wanted and solicit any answers she desired during the first five minutes he was home, but then she had to be quiet for an hour, unless he broke the silence or there was something urgent to attend to. It had worked well for them except for the day that House got home and Reagan was indisposed in the bathroom. She kept yelling out, "My five minutes don't start yet!" "Yes, they do...I can hear you out here so talk away." "NO, it's not fair. I shouldn't have to poop and talk at the same time." "Why not, you seem to be good at it." "Greg!" There was a long pause and then a flush. She hurried, washed her hands and came out to the living room. He looked at his watch, "You have two minutes left." "Wait until you're having sex, I'm going to look at my watch and tell you that you have two minutes left." "Well, that's one more than I need." She tilted her head and looked at him,"Tell me about your day...quick." "Cuddy came in this morning and told me that we received a second grant. This one for $50,000. I think she's starting to feel really crappy for firing you." Reagan's eyes flew open and a smile flew across her face, "Grant? Which one?" "Sorry, your time is up." "AHHHHHHHHHHHH" Reagan screamed, "That's not fair." House put his finger to his mouth and sat down on the couch, turned on the television and began to unwind. Reagan brought him a beer and a plate of spaghetti and meatballs, homemade. He ate and then laid down on the sofa like Caesar reclining back. He motioned for her to come over. She climbed up between his legs and relaxed, laying back on his chest. He leaned forward and belched in her ear. She frowned at him and he laughed. "Men are so disgusting sometimes." "The Aura Grant." "Oh yeah, I remember that. You have to submit a report in six months about your work on infectious diseases. You should assign it to Cameron, she'd be anal about it." House pulled her hair and told her to shut up. She laid back again and relaxed. ************** Reagan straightened up after putting the burritos in the over. She watched House put his knapsack down by the front door. His cane was hanging from the molding by the front door. He came over and gave her a passionate kiss, so passionate that he was getting aroused. "What's for dinner?" "Burritos. Hey you can't kiss me and then claim I only have four minutes." He kissed her again, feeling her breast through her t-shirt. She didn't have a bra on and she felt so soft and round in his fingers. He put his hand down the back of her sweatpants and felt her ass. It was so smooth, like a baby's butt. He pulled her into his groin and finished the kiss. He took her top off and pushed her up against the wall, sucking and kissing her nipples. He pulled her sweatpants and panties off to her ankles, unzipped his pants and, knowing his leg couldn't support a "knee trembler" standing up against the wall, pulled her down to the floor and penetrated her, her eyes wide with alarm. "Greg, a condom, where's your condom?" "You just had your period, we're okay." He leaned on his left elbow to take most of the weight off of her and guided himself to the opening and then used the tip of his penis, began stimulating her cl1toris while sucking her breasts. He wanted to make sure she was wet. He pushed her legs open even further and entered her. She pulled her right leg out of her sweat pants and wrapped her legs around the back of him, pointing her pelvis up to take all of him inside of her. She rotated her hips a little as he danced inside her. This felt incredible to him. Then she tightened down on him as he started thrusting faster. It was hard work, she was tight but by clenching her muscles she was even tighter. The feel of her vagina without a condom was incredible. It was hard for him not to come quickly. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and could smell the shampoo and body lotion, a mixture of coconut, citrus and woodsy smells. He was hunched over penetrating her faster and faster until the smells, the sensations, the feel of her flesh was too much. He came, ejaculating over and over and making short grunts. While he was still in her he looked down in her eyes and said, "I love you." "I love you too, but I still have five minutes." He smiled and shook his head as he pulled out as gently as he could. He put his fingers inside and rubbed her with his thumb and he felt up for her G spot. It didn't take much manipulation before she started clutching at him and turning her body towards his hand to continue the orgasm that was rocking through her. "Oh, oh...oh. Yes, that's it, that's it, oh, God, faster, yeah, yeah..." she let out a short scream and then it was over. House rubbed his bad leg, "I have to get up, I'm dying down here." He looked at his watch. "Your five minutes are up." He got up to his feet using the furniture to pull up on. He looked at her and chuckled mischievously. She was laying there with no top and her sweat pants down around her left ankle. She looked so small and sweet. He shook his head and went into the bathroom to clean up. Reagan thought of the wet semen on her thigh and inside of her and wondered what it would be like to have a child with Greg House. Odd, that's for sure. She yelled, "The least you could do would be to bring me a Kleenex." "Bad leg." He yelled from the bathroom as she heard him pee. She growled as she stood up and felt the semen drip out into her panties and down her leg. "Great, now I have to take a shower." She went in, got her clean underwear and went in to take her shower. He climbed in with her. Reagan turned to face him, "So, tell me about your day." "You're on my time." She gave him a look of disapproval, "That's not fair." "You could have talked to me while we were screwing." "Just tell me what put you in such a good mood that you came home and attacked me." "Seduced, I seduced you." He stepped out using the chair as an aid, "Cameron French kissed me again." Reagan felt her blood pressure go up and her body flush, "What? Doesn't she know you and I are living together?" "The only one who knows is Wilson and that's because we wanted to keep it a secret, remember?" "That was when I was working there." "I figure you're going to be working there again soon." "Why?" "We just got a $500,000 grant for my department. I get that big LCD television I wanted. Cuddy came up and talked to me. She looked like a nun in a strip club. She pulled all the grants that you applied for, there were five right?" Reagan nodded yes. "Well, each one has been awarded in the order they were submitted. You're 3 for 5 so far and the other two haven't stopped accepting applications. She wanted to know if you held a grudge against her. I told her that of course you did. You had been a good employee, a model ex-con and she fired your butt. She asked if I knew where you lived because she drove by your apartment and someone else lived there." "Well, what did you say?" "I said I didn't know if you wanted her to know. I'd have to get your permission to tell her. She's really anxious. Where's my burrito?" Reagan went in and got it out of the oven, put it on a plate and handed it to him along with a beer. He went over to the couch and sat down to eat. "You know grant writers, if they're good, work for a percentage of whatever they bring in. Most of them make between 5-15 per cent on a sliding scale. Ten percent of what you just brought into my department would be $63,000. You might want to think "Oh my God! That's great, just great. I could do that...I'm good at it." "No joke. Does the burrito have jalapenos in it?" "Or course." "How about another one?" "Give me your plate." "No, I mean another go at it. That last one felt good and we haven't done a two-fer in a long time." "Yeah, we haven't. Our sex life has slowed down a lot. Are you getting bored with me?" "No, but if you have any little fantasy things we can play..." "Well stay right there and don't come in the bedroom." Reagan ran into the back and rummaged through one of the unpacked boxes by the wardrobe. She pulled it out, it was a very sexy police woman outfit with cuffs. The shirt was too small revealing most of the breasts, the skirt too short, revealing her garters along with the lace top of the black stockings. No panties. She had a hat and a fake night stick. She put on some three inch black heels. Next she ran some mascara over her eyes and red lipstick over her lips. She was ready for her close up. What Reagan didn't know was that while she was behind closed doors, there had been a rap at the front door and both Cuddy and Cameron were standing in the living room talking to House about two separate subjects. Cameron had come about a patient's diagnosis and Cuddy had tagged along to see if House would relay to Reagan a job offer. "We'll pay her minimum wage, plus 5 percent and benefits, all retroactive to when she was let go." "You mean, fired. And she won't do it for anything less than 15 percent." "15 percent? Only the guys who have been doing it forever get 15 percent. 10. I'll go 10 percent" House bent over and said firmly in her face, "15!" "Who are you, her manager?" Just then they heard the bedroom door opened and a voice rang out, "Alright buddy, up against the wall and spread those legs. I need to cuff you and pat you down." Reagan turned into the living room and stopped dead. She wasn't embarrassed at all. In fact, she felt a little somewhat superior to the two women. She had her nightstick in her hand, "I guess you can relax Greg, I'll have to search and cuff you later." House had a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. The idea that he had been caught in sex play was hot. Cuddy and Cameron couldn't move, couldn't speak. They couldn't even close their mouths. Cuddy could barely get any words out. "So, Reagan, did House tell you about the grants?" Reagan stood slamming the night stick into her hand over and over, "He mentioned something to me. Are you here to offer me a job?" House broke in, "You get minimum wage plus 15 percent and benefits. Right?" Cuddy looked at Reagan, she could tell that Reagan was hot and that being hot would certainly be a plus when she had to pitch her grant submittals. Besides 15 percent of something was better than 0 percent of nothing. "Yes, that's right. What do you say Officer Grogan?" Reagan grinned and walked over to House, put her arm around his waist and asked him, "What do you think honey?" "Why not?" "Okay, you have a deal." I said. "Cameron, run another cat scan but this time scan the liver and do another blood workup, I think it's going to show up now. I'll come in..." he looked at Reagan, smiled and shook his head like she was too hot, "I'll be in in about an hour or so." Cameron just nodded and the two ladies left. House and Reagan fell on the couch in a heap, laughing and crying at the look on their faces. "You know Cameron will tell everyone." "Thank God, I'll be envied by every guy in the place. Now, did you want to cuff me from behind or in front." "Behind, behind..."   Please post a comment on this story. Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the 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 no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.