Clumsy mending of broken pieces

I think you all read Jim's blogpost 'Broken Pieces'.
I thought about that day and tried to recall it - Jim asked me if I remembered anything 'cause he thought he passed out somewhere down the road after too many beers and whiskey.
No, James. You did not pass out.
But let's begin from the start, right?

It was somewhen in October 2000, around the 15th or 20th as far as I can remember.
The day began fine - a perfect fall day with spider webs glistening in the morning sun, trees boasting off their splendid colors and me looking forward to two days off work.
I was whisteling a tune, percolating coffee and thought about going to the golf course when the phone rang.
"House?", I answered.
"Hello, dear, it's me."
I smiled and poured myself a cup of coffee. "Hey, Stacy!"
I could almost hear her grin. "What was that sound? Coffee? Oh, you don't have to answer. Of course it was coffee, my little junkie!"
"Oh, I confess!", I replied. "You caught me in the act."
She laughed and sighed at the same time. "I told you about the harms of too much coffee, darling."
Glad she could not hear me rolling my eyes I answered: "And I told you about the benefits of coffee, Stacy."
Another sigh. "Right. You are the doctor. I didn't want to talk about coffee anyways."
I sipped said coffee and looked out of the window into the beautiful morning. "About what did you want to talk?"
She hesitated. "Mmm...nothing special."
"So that's the oh so soon end of our conversation?"
Stacy laughed again. "No, not yet. First I'd like to ask you if you'd want to spend the afternoon with me."
"Buy me with a coffee and a dinner and I'm in!"
"I think I can afford this", she said with a soft voice while I watched the neighbor's fat dog fouling another neighbor's lawn.
"Look, I have a client in half an hour. I think I'll be with you around 3 pm, darling. See you then", she continued and I heard her kiss the handset.
"See you then, Stacy", I answered and hung up.

Outside it was beginning to become interesting because neighbor two spotted neighbor one's fat dog now on his lawn relieving himself. He cried something, cussed and grabbed a pitchfork (I always wondered why he had this...) and ran over to Hamish (that was the dog's name).
Hamish for one was so shocked by that sight he vomited out his breakfast on the lawn and took flight.
I watched all this with an amused grin and chuckled into my mug. Good dog...
I took my shopping list, scribbled 'sausage for Hamish' onto it and emptied my mug.
Then I took my key, put on my coat and drove to the mall.

I spent a rather lazy day until Stacy arrived playing the piano, watching TV, reading Indian professional journals and just sitting on my hands.
3 pm sharp the door bell rang and Stacy was outside greeting me with a kiss. "Take your coat and get into my car, darling!", she said and I just obeyed.
She invited me for coffee and fudge cake in a nice and small café and afterwards we had a walk around McCormack Lake, which offered breathtaking views and fresh air.
We talked about this and that, she told me about her client and we were just chit-chatting.
Until she suddenly took my hand.
"Greg?"
"M?"
She smiled at me and kissed me softly. After she had looked into my eyes for some seconds she finally began to talk.
"Hm...Greg...what would you say...I mean...how do you think about marriage?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Marriage? It's a thing people do sooner or later if they love each other and want to spend their lives together."
She nodded. "Exactly."
"That was easy!", I smirked and walked on.
She dropped that and did not mention it again until dinner.

We had dinner at a Spanish restaurant and I was just enjoying a Fino when she began again.
She leaned forward and took my hand.
"So...Gregory...what do you think about engagement?"
I slowly emptied the glass and watched her carefully. "It is the thing people do before getting married."
She sighed. "I didn't ask if you knew what it is. I asked what you think about it."
I began to feel uncomfortable and shrugged. "Well...it's...not too bad. I think it's a fairly nice thing if you want to get married. The smaller promise before the bigger one."
My hand was squeezed and she smiled with sparkling eyes. "Right."
"So...that was it?", I thought and wanted to free my hand and lean back in my chair.
She held my hand and continued. "So...shouldn't we two get engaged?"
Rats! There was it! The dreaded question!
"I'm not sure!", I answered promptly.
She took her and away, leaned back and stared at me.
"You're...not sure?"
I rubbed my chin. "No..."
"But...Greg!"
I shrugged and played with my napkin. "Sorry, Stacy...I'd be biting off more than I can chew with that now..."
"You think it's out of your range?", she asked disbelievingly.
I sighed, shrugged again and looked up into her eyes. "I am sorry...I just...I never thought about that...not yet."
She raised her hand. "Fine, Greg. I won't mention that again. It's your turn now when you thought about it long enough."
Did I want to marry her?
I was really not sure.
It was nice being with her, but would I want to spend the rest of my life with Stacy?
Deep, deep down in my heart there was something else lurking which I did not want to come to light and I denied myself the knowledge of that.
She was pissed off, that could be easily seen.
Her mood seemed to influence the weather because it started to be really rotten outside.

When we left the restaurant the wind was howling down the street, fallen leaves danced in the air and it began to rain.
Arriving at my appartment it was raining heavily and I lit a fire in the fireplace. Stacy had calmed down and we spent a rather pleasant evening talking by the fireside.

I was just searching for a bottle of Aberlour when the door bell rang.
"I'll answer the door, darling", Stacy said and went into the hallway.
With a smile I finally found the bottle and heard her talk to someone at the door.
"Who is it, Stacy?", I asked.
"It is James, darling", she yelled back and my heart made a jump.
James! How nice!

Well...you read it in Jim's post that I sent her home, I suppose.
When I left my bedroom where Jim changed his soaked clothes I switched on the HiFi unit and poured two glasses of Aberlour for us.
"What is this?", Jim asked leaning in the doorframe.
I looked up. "The malt or the music? The malt is Aberlour and the music are the Tindersticks."
I handed him his glass and heard him murmur "Sounds great..."
Inwardly I agreed and raised my glass. "Slaìnte!"

We flung ourselves onto my couch and while having several beers James told me the whole story. Thin-mouthed and needle-eyed Karen betraying him with her French teacher, he seeking comfort in the arms of a young nurse ending up in bed with her, Karen kicking him out, he stranding here.
"So Jimmy, how do you feel now?", I asked and looked deep into his eyes.
"Like my world just got a bigger crack though" he mumbled.
"Hmmm... So what now? Divorce?" I said and poured another drink.
"I dunno, Greg, I dunno."
He really seemed devastated.
I sipped my malt. "Perhaps I should think about that marriage thing again though."
A cough made me look up to Jim again who nearly spat out his malt.
"The what?!"
"The marriage thing", I answered and met his eyes.
How would he react if I told him Stacy and me got engaged? Of course it was a lie, but how would he react?
"What marriage thing?", he asked me with a constrained voice.
I sat back, played with my glass and watched him carefully.
"Well, we just got engaged today."
Jim blinked and stammered "To...to..today? Engaged?!!"
"Shocked?"
He definitely looked shocked. And this somehow made me feel brilliant. I just didn't know why.
"Shocked?", he repeated after quite a while. "No ...yes ... no ... I mean" he took a deep breath "I ... geez, TODAY?"
I still watched him and nodded.
"Today and you sent her away? I should go now..." he stammered and got ready to leave.

Blame it on the amount of alcohol I had.
Blame it on his reaction.
Blame it on that thing lurking deep, deep down in my heart and creeping up to light now.
Blame it on whatever you like.
I can't think what came over me.
I don't know why I did what I did.

I softly pushed him back onto the couch and leaned over him.
"I think you won't go anywhere now, Jimmy", I murmured and looked deep into those brown eyes with amber and golden sparkles.
James gazed back, blinked and sighed.
I slightly lowered my head keeping his gaze and his eyes fluttered shut.
For some seconds I hesitated and tried to settle my racing thoughts. I failed when I felt his breath on my lips and his warmth so close to me.
So I gave in and slightly and shyly put my lips on his.
He did not shy away but sighed again.
This encouraged me a lot and I started to kiss him tenderly.
Oh...I can't describe how that felt. My stomach made backflips, I felt the blood rush through my veins, my heart started to slop over and I wrapped my arms around him.
I hardly noticed that he embraced me and suddenly it came to my mind he returned the kiss. In fact I felt the tip of his tongue open my lips and deepened the kiss.
I think I uttered a moan and we parted and stared into each other's eyes.
"Greg...", Jim whispered but I put my finger on his lips.

I did not want to hear that this wasn't right.
I did not want to hear that we should stop.
I did not want to hear he wanted to leave.

"Shh", I said, bent down to kiss him again and nearly fainted when I felt his hands slipping underneath my shirt.
"Oh...okay...maybe he wanted to tell you something else?", was the last clear thought I had.
The night passed by with the sound of rustling clothes, sighs, murmured names and kissing.

When we woke up the other morning we still lay on the couch and it was obvious Jim thought we just got drunk and fell asleep there. So I put that memory aside and...well...managed to 'forget' about it until Jim mentioned that day again.

Stupid quiz

Don't ask...

You have a sexual IQ of 116

When it comes to sex, you are a super genius. You have had a lot of experience, and sex interests you so you know a lot about it. You pride yourself on being a source of information and guidance to all of your friends.

Take this quiz at QuizUniverse.com

A consultation

Jim and me spent an awfully nice evening yesterday and after Aberlour # 6 we started to talk about 'the good old times'.
I then remembered a phone call I received in January 1997.

I was just about to leave my flat (at Baltimore) and buy a fridge pack of Guinnes at the mall when my phone rang.
"House?!", I barked and was annoyed 'cause I really, really wanted that fridge pack. NOW!
"Wilson here", I heard on the other side and wondered why my cheeks suddenly felt so flushed.
"Wilson...", I answered and pretended to think about that.
"You...you...you do remember me?", James stammered into the handset.
I grinned and answered "Not the boring gynecologist from Boston?"
"Okay, okay. I see you do remember me!", he replied and I heard him laugh.
With a snicker I asked him what I could do for him.
"You could do me a favor, House...You could come to Plainsboro and help me with a case I have here."
"You'll pay the ticket, I suppose?"
"I do. And the hotel room. Well...PPTH will pay for it."
"Is there a Four Seasons at Plainsboro?"
"Hm...not Four Seasons...but another place with delicious food and good drinks. Wilson's Place nearby the hospital."
I held my breath for a few seconds and stared out of the window.
"Wilson's Place, hm?"
"Just..in case you.."
"Okay!", I answered before he could say anything else.

So I put the thought of buying that fridge pack aside and started to pack my bag.
I arrived at 9 am and James picked me up at the airport. It was so good to see him again it really surprised me.
We talked on the phone every once in a while and had met two times so far (not counting the congress).
We immediately started mocking each other and the drive to the hospital was rather pleasant. And I was almost sure he gave me one of those I-am-sooo-happy-to-see-you-again-looks.

When we arrived I stuffed my bag somewhere in his office and he showed me around Princeton/Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. It was quite impressive and somewhere deep down inside of me I felt the wish to work there. The conditions were excellent and everything was state of the art.
The case James had was challenging and I have to admit I had a really good time solving it with him and his colleagues. Their dean, Dr. Cuddy, was rather impressed and we talked for a while about John Hopkins and our studies.
Oh, it was flattering to be called a 'legend' by her.

"You like the PPTH, right?", James asked when we left his office and were heading for the parking lot.
I smirked at him and gave him a side glance. "What if I said yes?"
James shrugged. "Maybe Dr. Cuddy entertains the idea of offering someone a job here..."
I sat down in the passenger seat as he opened the door. "Does she..."
He nodded and started the engine. "She does. And it sounds like a fairly good job. They aim at a Department of Diagnostic Medicine."
I tried to conceal how very, very good that sounded and just uttered something like "Mhm."

James was so thankful I was able to help him he invited me for dinner - so I found myself wearing a suit (and sneakers) in an excellent seafood restaurant drinking fabulous wine and enjoying the conversation with James.
I was dissecting my swordfish and looked up at him.
"You know, Wilson, I'd offer my help any time if I am rewarded this way", I grinned.
"Hm...maybe not always..."
"Aw!"
"But how does 24-years-old Single Malt sound?"
"Heavenly!"

The evening at the restaurant passed ever so pleasant and I was grinning my ass off when Jim parked his car in front of his flat.
I fluttered my eyelashes and turned to him. "Thanks a lot for the wonderful evening, Dr. Wilson!"
He looked at me with a flirty smile. "My pleasure, Dr. House!"
He stepped out of the car,opened the door for me and walked me to the door.
I opened the door with his key and pretended to hesitate.
"What about my goodbye-kiss?"
Jim raised an eyebrow. "You kiss on the first date?"
I put my index finger on my nosetip and pretended to think. "Actually it's our third date. And if you know you'll see someone again after the third date, you are supposed to kiss then."
With a broad grin Jim approached me and suddenly I felt his lips on mine.
He kissed me! HE KISSED ME!!!
(No tongue involved though but he made me melt through the wall...)
"Okay, Greg...it's a joke!", I told myself. "You began that crap and he plays along..."
I think I heard myself utter a silent moan, but I am not sure. If so, he surely thought it was part of mocking him. (Maybe he'll tell you about that evening, too. Who knows?)

When we parted I forced a grin on my face although my heart was racing and I was surely flushed. "Fancy a coffee?"
James suppressed a giggle and looked at me in surprise. "Oh...you mean...I should come in?"
I nodded.
He rubbed his neck. "Mhm...yes...that would be nice."
I beamed at him and asked him to follow me.

That night we had several beers, Single Malts and other stuff and I remember waking up in his bed with a terrible hangover and black and blue marks.
Maybe we watched wrestling and tried it, too.

Well, two months later I moved to Plainsboro and started to work at PPTH.

Dr. Marks and me!

I must have looked a bit blank when I found that 'deviation' of Lascaux at deviantArt.
It is me and Edo.
Now I am wondering who she is.
However...you may visit her site here:
http://lascaux.deviantart.com/

I was asked...

...if I know Kate Bush.
Hmmm...really strange.
No, I don't know her.
This is NOT me.
And I think it is not one of her best songs.

Boston again

Yes.
You got that right.
I'm in Boston again.
This time with Jim attending another boring congress.

The good thing is we were able to meet Eric who lives here as you might remember.
Last night we had dinner and many drinks at a pub downtown and as you can easily see, Jim and Eric had fun.

And who's that?

Me...

Early morning this weekend at Point Pleasant:



And the same day later, in the evening:



Well...just me.

It's Jimmy!

Just some photographs....
Jim in an awfully good mood...can't remember why but maybe he does:



And here he is with his old friend Eric....you know...that guy from Boston:



Hooo boy...look at him! Doesn't he look gorgeous? (Jim of course, not Eric!)

Going to Boston

As you might have read in Jim's blog I had to go to Boston for a consult.
I was not too avid about that when Cuddy told me Massachusetts General Hospital asked for my help and a doctor would phone me in the course of the morning.
So I sighed and went to tell Jim who was busy with a patient and just nodded at my information. I don't think he really heard what I said.

During my first cup of coffee my phone rang and I recognized a number from Boston. The ominous doctor from the Massachusetts General, obviously.
I took another sip of coffee and answered the phone.
"Hello? Dr. Janosz Poha."
"Oh...I'm sorry...I must have dialed the wrong number..."
That drongo (as Chase calls such people) did not seem to know Ghostbusters...
"No problem", I grinned.
A few seconds later the phone rang again and I decided not to fool him again.
"House!", I barked.
"Good morning, Dr. House, my name is Dr. Tristan Calough from Massachusetts General Hospital."
"..."
"Um...yes...we...I would like to ask for your help. We have a strange case here."
"..."
"Are you still there, Dr. House?"
"Yipp! I'm here."
"Erm...okay...we think it might be Ebola, but we're not sure. So please...consider this information as confidential."
"Of course."
"So, is it possible for you to come to Boston? A ticket for you is deposited at the airport."
I sighed and remembered Cuddy's glance when she told me about that. If I would not go this would mean 5 more days of clinic duty. Not very tempting to say no in this case.
"Yes. It's possible."

So I tried to tell James again who absentmindedly nodded while talking to a patient, took a cab home, packed my backpack with a few things and took my motorcycle to the airport.
As Dr. Calough promised there was a ticket deposited for me and the flight would be short.

Short but annoying. The seat behind mine was occupied by a little boy who kicked against my seat all the time.
My glance did not prevent him from his employment, neither did my death stare.
The moment I could not bear this anymore I looked over my shoulder and hissed "Stop it! Otherwise you'll suck your meals through a straw for some weeks!"
Ooooh, the remainder of the flight left me in perfect peace.

At Boston Airport there was a man in his thirties awaiting me, darkhaired and rather handsome.
"Welcome to Boston, Dr.House", he said. "I'm Dr. Calough. Thanks very, very much!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Don't thank me so soon. I didn't do anything at all so far."
"But you're here and offer your help", he smiled and guided me to a black Chevy.
He babbled and babbled and babbled on our way to the hospital and I contented myself with uttering some social noises but was not really listening to what he said.
What I understood was that they were really concerned about that patient and had no clue so far.
This promised to be rather challenging and I hoped for some good work for my brain.

When we arrived everyone was ever so happy to see me (I'm really not used to this) and there were even some doctors who heard me lecture at Baltimore Hospital.
(And some of them knew that youtube video Cuddy had deleted...but this is another story...)

The first part of the day passed by with several cups of coffee and the discussion and explanation of symptoms which was not as satisfying as I had hoped. (The coffee was good though.)
The patient had fever, headache and muscle pain, maculopapular rash, diarrhea, chest and abdominal pain and he kept vomiting. Besides that he responded poorly to fluid infusions and rapidly developped pulmonary edema.
So far, so bad.

The next part was more interesting...Jaundice, delirium, organ failure, and extensive hemorrhage told me it was Marburg virus. (It was the severe bleeding from bodily orifices which made them think it was Ebola.) Helpful for the staff of Massachusetts General Hospital but not too good for the patient, 'cause the treatment options for Marburg are limited...
There is no cure or vaccine for this deadly and infectious virus. Victims usually die within a week.
Okay, that was not my problem though - I packed my things and wanted to leave.

Dr. Calough turned out to be very thankful and invited me to dinner first.
A nice Chinese restaurant, me very hungry, a good saté...
This sounded tempting.
I sent a text message to James telling him I'd come home in the late evening and off we were to the restaurant. (I did not know that my cell crossed Jordan. It did not send the message.)
It all began fairly nice. Dr. Calough was not as annoying as I first thought and we had a quite interesting conversation during the first course (Wan-Tan Soup).
The second course proved my undoing...

I ordered spicy chicken with a saté sauce and was very looking forward to it. The first three bites I chowed were delicious and I went "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmh" with a broad smile.
That smile vanished oh too soon when I began to feel odd and had respiratory problems accompanied by an increasing heart rate and fear.
"I....mnm...I...", I began to stammer and Dr. Calough looked at me in concern.
"Is everything okay?", he asked and grabbed my hand over the table.
I managed to shake my head and whisper "anaphylactic shock" and "please phone Dr. Wilson at PPTH" before I passed out.
Who had thought that they made saté with cashews instead of peanuts?

The next thing I can remember was waking up in a hospital bed nearly a whole day later. I was told I got rescue breathing as a first aid measure by Dr. Calough (ukk!) and epinephrine and intubation later during transport to hospital.
I felt really crappy but insisted on going home.
Finally they let me leave and at home it became perfectly clear that no one had phoned James. They just told him I was 'indisposed'.
Well, because of that (and the fact my cell refused to send him the text message) my first welcome at home was a bit icy...

Fishing trip

Isn't it strange how easy a song or some words can remind you of things long forgotten?
Even things that never really came to your mind because you did them totally drunk and had a tear in the film afterwards?

It was yesterday evening.
Jim and me mocked each other and I teased him until he said "Ah, shut up, babes!" and silenced me with a kiss.
I frowned because I had a deja-vue feeling.
"You...said that before...It is such a familiar situation..."
James thought a few seconds and then blushed deeply.
"Um..I...I...did I? Well...maybe...."

Suddenly an evening in August 1997 was very present before my inner eye.
Now it was my turn to blush and I flung myself onto the couch and downed a glass of Single Malt.
"Remember our fishing trip? '97? With no fishing at all?", I then asked.
James cleared his throat. "Erm...yah..I think I do remember...."
I rubbed my temples and shook my head. "You knew that all those years? And despite of that knowledge we had to behave like this for more than 10 years?"
"I...I thought it was an accident...you didn't remember anything..."
"Until now", I sighed, "isn't that strange?"

James was 28 then and I just had turned 38 in June.
We decided to spend our few days off on a fishing trip.
Well, that trip didn't include fishing but camping at a lakeside, many beers, silly talks and fun.
We took my old and shabby black pickup car, deeply laden with camping utensils, beer, food, beer, beer, clothes, beer, beer and beer,drove to that lake amidst the woods and pitched camp there.
The cellphones were left at home and we had some really good music with us and candles for the evenings. Jim's female wooers didn't have the slightest clue where he was and we were looking forward to 4 days in perfect peace.

Our first day began really, really silly when we set up the tent and I grabbed a tent peg and yelled "Your number's up, Dracula! It's me, Van Helsing!" James hissed and stretched his hands out in defence.
We spent nearly one hour running through the woods and yelling stupid stuff, me threatening him with the tent peg.
No one who saw us would have wanted to be treated by such crazy doctors, believe me.

Totally out of breath we fell down on the grass before our tent and tried to stop laughing.
James wiped the tears from his face. "God...House....Why is it only me who knows you like that? Unbelievable...this was the same man like that grumpy and slightly arrogant doctor who left clinic yesterday evening!"
I sniggered and shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe it's like Dr. Jekkyl and Mr. Hyde..."
James grinned broadly. "Or that Monsieur Opale from that crappy horror movie we watched last week."
I put that off. "Ah...same story. Apart from the fact that Monsieur Opale limps and has a cane. So...I ought to be Mr. Hyde then."
(Yes...no cane, no limpy then.)
"Why not just stay Dr. Jekkyl?"
"C'mon Wilson, that would be boring..."
James shrugged and laid back to watch the sky. "Maybe you're right. Hmmm...I'm a bit honored it's me who knows Dr. Jekkyl."
I grinned and poked his side. "Not to forget I am a genius!"
"Right!"
I laid back, too and for a while we just watched the clouds and told each other what we saw in them.

It was a perfectly good time we had there.
Lazy days with quiet talks, silly talks, long nights with many beers and so on.

The third night I was really drunk.
I remember that in the middle of the night - or at 3 am to be precise - I arose, crawled out of the tent, took off my clothes and jumped into the lake.
After swimming for a while I turned towards the brink again.
Shortly before I reached it suddenly my arm was grabbed by someone and I was dragged under water.
God, I was shocked and fairly close to a heart attack - nearly sober all over sudden.
I waved about and kicked around and tried to free myself from whatever it was.
When I caught breath and realised it was James who had been lurking underwater for me I got hopping mad and railed against him.
"Wilson!!! Who do you think you are?! Swamp Thing??? I nearly got a heartattack! I almost drowned!"

I clamoured, tiraded, grumbled, bickered and complained.
Suddenly Jim said "Ah, shut up, babes!" and silenced my tirade by pressing his lips hard against mine.
I held my tongue immediately, my stomach made backflips and I noticed his lips getting softer and really kissing me. (That was the second it came to my mind that all my clothes lay on the brink...together with his.)
Far, far away I heard someone moan.
Ten minutes later I discovered that this was me.
Jim took me by my hips, lifted me up and lowered me onto his...erm...okay, you know what.
"Wilsoooon?", I managed to ask with a quivering voice and my hands clung to his shoulders.
My answer was another kiss and a "Mmmmmmmmmmh" which made me embrace him with my legs.
My head dropped back and the last thing I saw before I had my head in the clouds was the full moon and some stars.

In the morning I awoke with a terrible hangover and not the slightest memory. I wondered why James behaved so odd, blushed all the time and asked me about the last night but forgot about it when he stopped that.
Okay...now I know he only had one beer that night and I had one beer too many.
But I still can't believe I totally forgot about that.
And he - he carried that knowledge with him all these years and never told me anything.
Isn't that strange?

I'm sorry, it's late....so you'll have to wait for my post about Boston once more.
Good night!
Or good morning.

Such a beautiful song

I am back from Boston (yes, of course I will write about it), feel ill and crappy and am incredibly happy to be back with James.
And I found that song again....
It's so beautiful I just had to share it:

What was THAT?!

Our visitor this morning was a bit strange and had the perfect EEK!-effect.
This beautiful and cuddly little pet sat at the balcony door and made me screw up my nose.
Buah!
Disgusting!
Did I say little pet?
It was as big as the palm of my hand.
Uakk!

Hmmmm....we could watch Tarantula tonight.

A week I'd like to forget

Mood: more than rotten
Weather: I don't care
Eating: wonderbar
Drinking: coffee
Listening to: Another night in - Tindersticks

The last week consisted of a row of days I'd like to delete from my calendar.
From every calendar in the whole wide world.
More awful than clinic duty.
The most awful week a sick brain can imagine.
A very sick brain.
A very, very,very sick brain.
A very, very, very, very...

Ah, let's drop that.

The whole mess started with Cuddy's spring festival - I already told you it was embarassing, right?
Well, Foreman and Jim wrote about it.
I won't do that.
No.
You won't read anything about it here.
I wrote about Sunday morning. This should be enough.

Monday morning I was cranky and thought about calling in sick.
"Darling...you can't call in sick until the whole thing is forgotten", Jim said and took me by my shoulders.
I avoided his glance and sighed deeply. "Yes...I know that...But a last respite before facing the enemy would be helpful...."
"I don't think so. You'd be grumpy all day and think about tomorrow."
I knew he was right and that it was better to face it now.
"But...", I began.
James silenced me by placing a kiss upon my pouting lips. "No but, babes. We will both show up at work. And laugh in the faces of those who stare at us. Or ignore them."
I opened my eyes again and tried to grin. "I'm in! Let's ignore them!"

Okay.
Easier said than done.
Of course.
After Saturday's scandal Monday resembled running the gauntlet.
Those who had been prevented for any reason that Saturday had been told by the others who had been there.
So the whole staff of the PPTH knew about our ill luck, our grave misfortune, our painfulness...
You know that scene from western movies.
The saloon door opens and everyone falls silent.
Okay...we were no gunslingers and the PPTH was no saloon...
But - we came in and everyone seemed to freeze in their movements and fell silent.
I forced myself to limp on and check in. Debbie smiled at us as if nothing ever happened and wished us a good morning.
"Morn'", I just said and turned to head for the elevator. Jim at my side took my arm which made them even gaze and stare at us more.
Fortunately we both were the only ones in the elevator and so we were able to reach our offices without being stared at again.

Cameron greeted my with a smugly smile. "Good morning, Dr. House!"
"Morning, Cameron", I muttered and disappeared into my office.
Foreman and Chase skulked by and raised a greeting hand when I looked up and out of the glass walls.
Five minutes later two men wearing fatigues knocked at my door and came in after i nodded. They deinstalled the security cameras and left after their work was done.
I sighed and turned my attention to the files on my desk.
A man with flaking, dry skin, small, red papules on the area of the soft palate (yes, Forchheimer's sign!), fever (just 100.4 °F) and swollen glands.
Boring.
Rubella.
He's treated with paracetamol until the disease has run its course.

The second file didn't promise anything more spectacular.
A child with tender regional lymphadenopathy, sterile suppurative papules at the site of inoculation, slight fever, headache, chills, backache, abdominal pain, malaise, alteration of mental status, and convulsions.
Boring again.
Cat scratch fever...usually resolves spontaneously, with or without treatment, in one month.

Isn't it wonderful and exciting sometimes to be an infectiologist?
Say yes!

So much to work this Monday...
Anything else was exciting...or more annoying.
The whole week was annoying as I told you.
All those grinning faces, all the whispering, all the glances...
Horrible!
I hate being the center of attention.
And I hate it even more if it is because of some embarassing incident.

You won't believe how many women cried in front of me.
Nurses who still had been unaware of the fact James was married to me.
Nurses who had been some of his affaires during his marriages.
Nurses who sobbed "I wish he had treated me like that!"
Nurses who tore at my nerves.

Then there were those who just made me angry with their silly tough-talking.
"Hey, Dr. House! Who had thought that grumpy old cripple could be so cuddly, begging and yielding!"
A sarcastic smile was all they got from me.

Others grabbed my ass in the elevator and when I turned around everyone looked innocent. Haha! Very funny!

Well...and I was really surprised by the amount of doctors making overtures. I wasn't aware of the fact that there were so many gay or at least bi-sexual employees here. And I have to admit I was slightly shocked they tried to hit on me altough to my mind it was perfectly clear I'm with James.
Even "Playboy Jones", the heartthrob from cardiology was one of them.

My mind keeps racing around the fact that I don't want to think about what might have happened to Jim if they behaved like that towards me, the hunchback of Notredame.

Some wit thought it was a great joke to put a sign on my door reading Babes Darling MD.
A case for 6th floor, I'm sure.
And I heard "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze!" more than once.
One of the buffoons even uploaded the video to youtube...
Cuddy had it deleted though - thank God!
They all calmed down a bit until Friday and I hope this week will be pretty normal again.

Tindersticks

Yes!
I found it!
The CD was buried somewhere in my wardrobe for years and I was looking for it everywhere.

Atoning for my sins

Mood: crappy and upset
Weather: dunno...full moon!
Listening to: Holding back the years - Simply Red

Such a crappy weekend!
As if someone yelled 'Repent!!!' out of the clouds and pointed at me.
Okay, okay...I know I overdid with Foreman and Chase.
No need to remind me of that.
But do I deserve what I got that weekend?
The answer is NO!
A very definite 'no'.

It all started this Saturday...one week after that evening with Chase and Foreman.
Cuddy's Spring Festival...doesn't that sound nice?
It sounds like drinks, cigarettes, cigars, torturing fellow doctors...

Okay.
Fine.
It actually began with drinks, cigarettes, a Cohiba and torturing Danby.
So far it was the beginning of a perfect evening.
No, I won't write about the disastrous rest of that evening.
Foreman told me he wanted to tell the world.
And his laugh was an evil snigger.
Reminded me of Chucky.
Well...I hope he just does not dare.

James made me forget that embarassing moment and Sunday morning my mood was better again. I woke up and looked at Jim's sleeping figure with a fond smile. He had been very sweet, indeed, trying to make me forget that dreadful evening.
Although he got embarassed, too.
But it was me who made a complete fool of himself by all that begging and...being...fluffy.
Well, I told you he made me forget about it.
So I hopped out of bed, had a shower and decided to prepare breakfast.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my hips.
One glance into the bedroom showed me that Jim was still fast asleep and I tiptoed into the kitchen to percolate coffee.
I got the pan out of the cupboard and looked out of the window - the morning newspaper did just arrive.
So I went to fetch it.
And that proved my undoing...
The door swung close behind me, the towel got stuck in it and I was outside.
Outside on the steps.
No towel anymore.
Door closed.

YES!
Of course this was embarassing.
At first I did not realize what just happened.
And when I did I went crimson and knocked hysterically at the door.
"Moses!", I thought. "No! Noooooo! NO! FUCK!!!"
No, James did not awake then.
Further hysterical knocking.
"God almighty, pleeeeeeeeeze!"
I rang the bell several times.
No effect on anything or anyone.

So...what to do now?
I tried the window, but it was closed. (Of course.)
"Fuck!", I cussed and knocked at the window.
Jim was still sound asleep.
I took a handful of tiny stones and threw them against the window.
More than once!
Not very successful though.
"Please, God...or Goddess or whatever...if you're up there..."

It was my luck I got up early...not many people were around.
But our elderly neighbor saw me and her eyes nearly popped out.
I still hope she now thinks it was a nightmare or something.
The second one who saw me was the milkman.
He whistled through his teeth and grinned.
"Alluring...but I'd rather be payed with money..."
I decided to answer nothing at all.
Third person was the man who brings the newspaper on his way back.
He stopped and shook his head.
"I didn't think he was so mean...Brawls are no reason to do things like that to your husband..."
"He didn't...", I began, but off he was.

After those little episodes I rang the doorbell frantically and knocked at the door the same time.
It took 10 minutes for James to hear the doorbell and open the door....

Being an asshole....

...and luring James into being one, too.
Oh...I had that idea in my mind for so very, very, very long now.
I just could not wait - as always when I feel slightly pissed off by work (dreadful clinic duty!) and my leg hurts too much.

It was last Friday in the afternoon.
The thought of realizing my sick minded plan bugged me for the whole day now and around 4 pm I finally met Foreman in the lab where he did some blood tests for an obese patient we had.
"Yo, Foreman!", I greeted him with a smirk.
Foreman looked up. "Up to no good again?"
I played the insulted. "Just in a good mood. It's Friday!"
Foreman turned to the screen again. "Yes...and duty this weekend..."
I shrugged. "Just a few hours." (In fact I planned to call in sick.)
The Beep! announced that the test was finished and I closed my eyes and swirled my index finger through the air like a mad magician.
"Epsteiiiiiin-Barrrrrrrr!"
A sigh confirmed that I was right.
I snatched Foreman's mug after checking that he did not drink from it yet, took a sip of his coffee and sat down on the desk.
"Any plans for the weekend?"
He was stuffing away the test result into the patient's file and gave me a surprised look. "Um..no? Was that...?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Was that what?"
Foreman contemplated over the file.
After a while he answered: "An attempt to ask me if we'd spend some time together this weekend?"
I grinned. "In fact it was just a try to be polite and make conversation."
"Oh..." His teint darkened, so I think he blushed.
"But, hey, why not? We could go and have some drinks with our cuddly-wuddlies."
Foreman snickered. "Don't let him hear that..."
After flipping through the file again he nodded. "Mhm...we could do that. Sounds good, actually."
Yes! Strike!

I always wonder why Foreman and Chase seem to like hanging around with us 'cause that includes being with me. But they do and this gave me the chance to be an evildoer once again.
I shrugged again and emptied Foreman's mug. "Well, we could go to that new bar tomorrow evening. What was it called? Habana?"
A nod confirmed that. "Yes. I'll ask Chase if he hasn't planned anything else and call you tonight."
I suppressed a snicker and hopped off the desk. "Fine then. I'm off home now!"
(Isn't it odd he calls him Chase still? I could not imagine calling Jim Wilson now.)

With a whistle I went into my office, put on my coat and grabbed my backpack.
I was just about to leave the room when Jim came in ready to go home.
"Perfect timing, hm?", he smiled and kissed my cheek.
"Perfect!", I smiled and off we went.
On our way to the parking lot I told him about my conversation with Foreman.
Jim opened the driver's door and raised his eyebrows. "You do that just for the sake of being polite and playing a good boss who's interested in his team?"
I sat down in the passenger's seat and my grin told him a clear no.
"Would I want to know?", he asked and started the engine.
I raised my shoulders and pretended to think about it. "Mmmmmmm...."
Silence.
"Hmmmmm....."
Pause.
"Yes. Yes, I think you would want to know."
James gave me a side glance. "Would I want to know now or would I chicken out if I knew too soon?"
I closed my eyes and put my finger on my lip. "Hmmm...let me think about that..."
Pause.
...
Silence.
...
Faux thinking.
"No. You would not want to know now. You...would want to know tomorrow on our way to the bar."
James shook his head. "You..."
"I?"
We had to wait at the traffic light and he thumped the driving wheel with his fingers. "You... Ah! Drop it."
He did not have to explicitly tell me he thought I sometimes was impossible and too mean to bear. As if I didn't know that!
"That's part of my charm, honey. And you love me for that, too", I smirked and Jim just sighed 'cause he knew it was true.


I did not call in sick on Saturday.
James told me off when I tried to do so.
"There are patients, you know that? These people need our help and they will still need it if there is no Dr. House doing his clinic duty! The world is no paradise with just challenging cases! There is also your beloved clinic duty. Go, move your ass and do it!"
I tried to pout but immediately stopped after a harsh and warning gesture he made.
No - I don't know why he was in such a mood.
And I decided not to ask and just have my breakfast in peace.
"You are pouting into your mug....STOP IT!", James growled.
I slowly put the mug on the table again. "I was not."
"You are!"
I raised an eyebrow and just stared at him.
James sighed and blushed a bit. "I'm sorry...I just fear to give in again when I see your cute pout..."
"Oh..."
Inwardly I smiled. It was a broad and happy and beaming and anticipating smile.
Outwardly I just looked blank.
He pointed at me. "You!"
I blinked. "Me?"
Another sigh, a shake of his head and he came around the table.
He stood before me and looked down at me. "We'll be late and it will be your fault!"

Um...we were late. Half an hour or so.
No severe I-thought-about-calling-in-sick-but-dropped-the-thought being late.
More a We've-been-stuck-in-a-traffic-jam being late.
Foreman didn't call us Friday night, so I thought he had just been to busy serving Chase's needs, getting him food and so on.
Before I could ponder about that Cuddy greeted me at my office tapping her heel to the ground.
"You are late, House!"
I did not answer and sat down. I knew I was late - so what?
She rolled her eyes and slammed a file onto my desk. I gave her a smile and off she was again.
Five minutes later on my way to the coffee machine a tired looking Foreman crossed my way.
(I'm sure Chase got hungry at five in the morning and he had to go and buy him roast chicken again....)
"YO, Foreman!!!"
My grin was almost too revealing, but he was too tired to recognize that.
"Mooooorn', House..."
I poured coffee into my red mug and handed it to him.
His expression changed from tired to surprised to shocked. No black mug in the early PPTH-morning can cause some person's worlds to crumble into pieces.
I pretended not to notice and relished my coffee from his black mug.
He stared a few moments into the black liquid and I turned to leave the common room.
"Um...House?"
I looked over my shoulder. "M?"
(Would he ask for his mug now?)
"I'm sorry, I was busy yesterday night (Oh, I bet he was busy...) and forgot to phone you."
I shrugged. "I noticed that. No...wait...In fact I did not notice 'cause I forgot you wanted to call."
"Rmpf..."
I opened the door and was about to leave.
"Er...well...we would really like to go to that bar with you and Dr. Wilson."
"Fine", I nodded. "8 pm at our place, you'll pick us up."
"Rmpf..." And the door swung closed behind me.

The day was not worth mentioning. So...just think what you want to.
It was work.
Clinic duty.
Dreadful clinic duty with dumbasses, puke and other unpleasant things.
So let's forget about it.

The beginning of the evening in fact is worth mentioning.
So I mention it: It was NICE!
And now think what you want.
After we did what we did I had a shower and whistled a happy little tune.
"Greg?" The sound of the hairdryer was interrupted by Jim's call.
The sound of my whistling was interrupted, too.
"Aye?"
The glass door to the shower was opened and Jim peeped in.
"Are you MAD?", I yelled. "Want to kill me with that hairdryer???"
"Oh..."
"PAH!"
"I..."
The door closed again.
I continued whisteling and the hairdryer continued with it's noise.
When I stepped out of the shower and fetched my towel there it was again.
"Greg?"
"What now? A razor blade?"
Jim rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "God...could you just stop it?"
I bowed. "God promises to stop it."
Another roll of his eyes. "I have the strange impression you're in an awfully good mood. Which usually means doom to your fellow humans."
"I won't tell you now...it's too early", I smiled at him as sweet as chocolate and went off to dress.
A sigh was the only thing I heard.
And guess what?
The hairdryer again.

Right on time at 8 pm Chase honked the horn of his silver my-penis-is-longer-than-yours and we locked the door behind us to make ourselves comfortable in this spermblaster car. (I have the impression that I now know who bought the black yammies Jim mentioned...)
"Awfully nice to pick us up, Chasey", I broadly smiled and noticed the worried glance Foreman shot over his shoulder.
Chase made a face and decided not to answer but to say "Evening!"
James was as always the politer one and made conversation on our way to Habana.
Miracle-like we found a parking space right in front of the entrance and I hopped out.
"Is he high?", I heard Foreman whisper to James.
"Erm...no. NO!"
Pretending not to hear anything I opened the door and was greeted by fairly good music, the sound of stupid babbling, a cloud of cigar smoke and the smell of Havana Club and other high percentage beverages. THE place to be when you planned what I planned.
I stopped at the bar and let my eyes wander over the rows of bottles.
"Foreman, Chase...why not go ahead and search a nice place?"
The two just raised their eyebrows simultanously but did as they were told.
I rubbed my hands. "SO, Jimmy...."
He looked blank for a few seconds.
1...2...3....4....
"Ah! You wanted to tell me something. Right!"
"Right...here we go..." And I told him of my evil masterplan....

With sugary smiles we then joined the two victims at their table.
"And? Already decided to drink a Caipirinha?"
They both shrugged and Foreman played the daredevil. "Mhm! Right!"
Chase's facial expression was more the but-I-know-where-this-will-lead-to thing but he did not complain.
Jim smiled into the menu and we ordered our special cocktails when the waiter arrived.
Oh, pleasant anticipation!
Chase searched the other tables for crisps, peanuts and other stuff to fulfill his perpetual needs and snatched the bowl from the young couple next to us. Those two were too absorbed in eating each other than bothering to guard their peanuts.
He happily munched and I was promptly annoyed by the noise he made.
But the smile was still there on my face.
"Had....um...some pills tonight?", Foreman asked me and took his Caipirinha out of the waiter's hand.
"I am just in a good mood, Foreman..."
Jim looked up and frowned at him which caused him to change the color of his face again.
Our little conversation was interrupted by a man from India who smashed a bunch of roses into Chase's face.
"Wonna buay rrroses? Beauttifful rrrred rrrroses?"
"Did anyone understand what that gentleman said?", he asked with his snobbish accent.
I leaned back in my chair. "He asked you if you want to buy beautiful red roses..."
Chase smiled up to the "gentleman". "Nnnno."
(Sometimes he's too snobbish to be true.)
I decided to buy a beauttiffull rrred rrrrose for James and the man toddled off to another table.
I noticed that Foreman seemed to wish to be somewhere else by then. And of course he was contemplating about the question why Chase did not have any sense for romantic.
But I managed to keep up a fairly plesant conversation and Jim managed to order new cocktails for all of us again and again and again.
Special ones for us (Virgin Colada) and Caipirinhas for Chase and Foreman.

Soon the point of no return was reached for both of them - their tongues refused to form the words they wanted to express and they clung more and more to each other.
It was my turn now to change the talk to more...delicate topics.
No one seemed to wonder why Jim and me were perfectly sober and the topic showed it's effect. The space between the two shrunk more and more and soon Foreman's hand disappeared underneath the table. The longer it stayed there, the more pleased Chase's facial expression became until he finally abruptly arose and ran to the gent's rooms.
James winked at me and secretly raised his thumb. I waggled my eyebrows and grinned back.
My plan seemed to work.
The evening went by and I was more than disappointed about the fact no one payed attention to Foreman and Chase obviously making out at the table.
Five Caipirinha later and at 2 in the morning Jim sadly shrugged and we decided to leave.
Foreman stumbled to his feet and leered at Chase.
"Wanto take a cab withem or prefer to have a walk now?", he asked Chase who now grinned and arose, too.
"Waaaaaaalk", he managed to say and now it was my turn to secretly raise a thumb.

Our ways parted at the door.
At least they seemed to part.
In fact we just pretended to call a cab and then followed the two victims close behind.
Two streets ahead they stopped and Chase pressed Foreman to a wall. Jim and me hid behind a corner and watched them.
Jesus Christ...they really had one over the eight and I should blush now writing this down. But who knows me knows, too, I don't blush but chuckle.
Yeas, as Chase would say, he went down on him on the boulevard.
Oh, this was bound to get noticed.
I don't know who called them, but a few minutes later they were dragged into a police car.
Jim and me burst into laughter at first but then looked at each other and said "Ooooops" simultanously.
What we wanted was to make them drunk and misbehave in public.
We did not want them to spend the night in jail.
Not even I wanted that.

Okay...we decided we could not do anything about it now and hailed a cab to have a few drinks at home and spend an awfully pleasant night sometimes interrupted by eruptions of laughter.
The look upon their faces was really priceless!

And yes - of course we got them out of jail the other morning.
And yes - of course we both promised not to tell anyone.
Well... I just write about it. I do not explicitly tell it someone, right?