Sequel III

As the others were gone the day began to dawn, but I planned to go back to bed for an hour or so. Wilson refused to, but when I crept under the blanket it only took half an hour and he silently stepped into the room. I heard him change his clothes and pretended to be fast asleep when he laid down.
"No need to pretend, Greg, I know you're awake."
I did not reply but tried for a steady and deep breathing.
"You are thinking of how to convince me I just need to tell you who I'm thinking about, aren't you?" he continued.
Still no answer from me - of course.
He sighed. "Okay. But I really know you're just pretending. And there's something I'd like to talk about."
I perked up my ears. Maybe he would tell me when he was unsure if I'm asleep or not? So he could claim he had done so. I prefered to go on pretending.
Suddenly he leaned over me and fondled my hair. Again there was this unfamiliar prickle deep down in my stomach and my eyes flashed open.
"What are you doing?!" I barked and sat up quickly.
James chuckled. "I told you I knew you're awake. I just found a way to press you to confess it."
"Moron", I muttered and laid down again.
"No, Greg, don't close your eyes again. I told you there's something I want to talk about."
"Maybe I just don't want to talk", I grunted. "But keep on stroking my hair, it's quite soothing and I'll soon be sound asleep."
"I don't think so. You'd run away", he insisted.
I opened my eyes again and stared at him. "Everything okay with you?", I asked.
He turned towards me and nodded. "Yes, but how about you?"
"Huh?"
"You ran from me!"
"I'm not really able to run", I reminded him.
He wheezed. "Don't try to harass me. You won't succeed. I am earnest about that and I want to know why."
I shrugged. "I have not the slightest idea what you're talking about."
"You ran from me this morning", he repeated.
"Did I? I was pissed 'cause you didn't tell me you have a crush on someone."
And I was pissed I did not find it out myself. Otherwise I notice almost everything James is thinking.
James blushed again, but shook his head. "No, I mean earlier this morning. When I was examining your bruise."
I stared at him and didn't know what to answer.
"You know, I'm really terribly sorry about that. I didn't know I was actually hurting you, it was just an attempt to antagonize you."
"What are we up to?", I asked. "Family therapy?"
James kept gazing at me.
I shrugged. "I didn't run from you."
"Yes, you did!"
"No, I didn't!", I insisted.
"Yes, you did", he said again. "And I had the impression it was because I touched you."
"Don't be silly, you often touch me!"
"But no bruises I am responsible for", he continued. "I was afraid you'd be absolutely angry about that."
"Listen, James, I was just hungry and eager to get breakfast", I told him.
"I still have the impression you ran from me", he stubbornly said.
I laid down again and closed my eyes. "I didn't. For sure I didn't."
"But..."
"Ah, cut it out!", I gnarled and terminated the conversation.
A few minutes later I fell asleep and woke up again at 10:30 AM. Wilson was already awake and gazed at the ceiling. I wonder if he had slept, too, or if he was gazing at the ceiling for hours.

After our second breakfast we headed for Point Pleasant, which turned out to be a fairly nice city. Thank God Caplan left his keys so we didn't have to take Allenby's car.
We were strolling along the streets and Wilson still was close-lipped and in a brown study. Was it really that important I hurried to the breakfast table when he was "examining" my black and blue mark?
I tried to brighten him up and poked in his side. "Hey, Jim, stop brooding. You know, I still love you, honey."
He tried to conceal a smile. I mocked him by singing "Stand by my maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan" (instead of "your man") and patted him on the shoulder. The smile was becoming broader and soon he laughed.
"Okay, Greg, stop this song. People are already glancing our way."
I grinned. "Let them glance."
We entered a small café and sat down at the windows. I ordered Latte Macchiato while Wilson took Cappucchino. "Latte?", he teased. "How girlish." "Not more than your Cappu", I retorted, happy that his spirits had lifted again and there was the well known Wilson sitting in front of me.
"I'm sorry", he grinned. "I'm silly of time, I know. I should have known you would not run from me." He shrugged and smiled at me.
"It's fine, Jim. Let us just drop the subject and make a plan what to do with all that fish in the evening."
He grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Maybe gefillte Fisch?"
"Sounds good, but I don't think they'll come back witch carp", I answered.
I sipped at my latte. "What about barbecue?"
Wilson nodded. "Sounds good to me!"

We relished the day off from all hospital duty and away from Plainsboro. The weather was fine and we had a really good time. At the local market Jim spotted a pumpkin and insisted we'd make a pumpkin soup today. I gave in and we took the monster home.

The rest of the weekend was absolutely pleasant apart from Louis later that evening. I smoked a cigar outside when he came and sat down next to me.
I didn't say anything, so he began.
"You're hurt..."
"Huh?", I said, glancing his way.
"I saw the bruise. How did that happen? It looked severe."
"Ah, the bruise. It's my own fault. I teased Wilson to such an extent, he bashed me."
Louis stared unbelievingly in my eyes. "He did what?"
I shrugged. "Of course he didn't! It was just a silly accident. I hurt myself", I answered to avoid further investigation.
Allenby remained silent for a while. Then he took a deep breath and turned to me again.
"Did you think about it?"
I looked blank. "About what?"
He sighed. "If....if you...like me."
Damn! He didn't forget about it!
I pondered. "Well, not really...."
"You still don't know?" He looked at me like a puppy.
I sighed. "I read your essay. It's good. You're talented."
"I do not want to know if you think I'm talented. I know I am."
I was surprised.
"I just want to know if you like me, Gregory", he continued.
There was no way out of it and I knew I had to think about it now. I brooded over it a few minutes and Louis kept watching me.
"Okay", I sighed. "Yes. I think I like you." Surprisingly this was true. He was a sport apart from the fact he was in love with me. He still didn't tell me so, so it wasn't dangerous to admit that.
He was beaming and hugged me. "Great! This is so...sooo fine!", he exclaimed. I was irritated and he hugged me again, this time a bit closer. When he stepped back he said :"This is important to me, you know? I'm...I'm really...fond of you."
I stared at him. "Fond of me? Why? Most people hate me. I'm an asshole."
He shook his head and gave me a warm smile. "No, you're not. You're brilliant, you're handsome and you're...just House."
I panicked as I noticed the wistful look on his face and cut the conversation off. "How flattering", I grinned. "But let's go back inside, I think the fish is ready."

Well, as I said the rest of the weekend was absolutely pleasant. Monday was rotten, tuesday, too. I was out with Cameron and told her some things she would rather have avoided. This morning I almost feared she'd leave again, but she's still here.