GRAPEFRUIT

Part One

I hate, hate, hate the bus, thought James Wilson as he shivered and hugged himself, desperately trying to keep warm as the chilly north wind bit him in the face. The wind was especially cold that morning and Wilson thought it was just the warning of soon-to-come snow.

Either that or he was just not used to waiting at a bus stop in the freezing cold.

And he wasn't. He knew that right now, at this very moment, he could be sitting at home enjoying a hot cup of coffee. He wouldn't even have to leave for work for another hour.

But there he was, almost two hours before his shift started, waiting for the damn bus. And then once it got there, he had to sit on the uncomfortable seats, in between a bunch of annoying and chattering passengers for an hour. It took the bus that long to get from Wilson's stop to PPTH. Only because it took the most ridiculous route imaginable.

Besides that, the bus was never on time, so Wilson ended-up waiting outside much longer than he would've liked.

What he would've liked was to get his car back. But he had no car, thanks to Tritter. And he had Tritter on his ass every minute, thanks to House.

Why did everything always begin and end with House? Wilson was starting to get tired of it. He was ready to blame House for just about anything and everything.

Finally the bus arrived, no less than ten minutes late. Wilson reached into his pocket for change. He had enough, but only after searching underneath furniture and in between the couch cushions. Wilson barely ever carried spare change around. He had mostly bills and credit cards. The only change he did have was in his desk drawer at work, in case he had a sudden craving for a can of soda or some chips from the snack machine.

Scowling at the bus driver, Wilson put his money into the collection box and looked for a seat.

Just my luck, thought Wilson. All the regular seats were occupied. He had to sit in the sideway ones, the ones that could be shifted and moved to allow wheelchairs to fit on the bus. Riding sideways for an hour was sure to make him nauseous. He heaved a huge sigh and plopped down on the seat, resting his briefcase beside him, not caring at the moment that he may be required to move it to allow someone else to sit down.

Wilson looked around. The guy on the right, next to him was having a conversation about last night's episode of Survivor with the bus driver. Wilson looked to the left, all the way down to the end. A teenager had an iPod plugged into his ears and it was playing too loudly. A young couple in the very back were stealing kisses from each other, every now and then. A young girl was engrossed in the latest Harry Potter novel. About halfway down, a guy in a suit was typing vigorously on a laptop computer, probably trying to get some work done that was due that very morning. Everyone else was either asleep, half asleep or talking with other people they knew or had come to know by riding the bus on a daily basis. Wilson envied them. His ride would be a long hour, while everyone else's would seem short, since they kept themselves busy.

Wilson's eyes then fell upon a woman sitting directly across from him. She looked to be about his age, with flaming red hair, green eyes and an obviously physically fit figure. She wasn't talking to anybody; she wasn't doing much of anything. She was just sitting there quietly, like Wilson was. Wilson was immediately attracted to her. A pretty face had always been one of his weaknesses. He'd already screwed-up three marriages because of a pretty face and a "funny" feeling. Wilson didn't have enough fingers to be able to count how many affairs he'd had. None of them every amounted to anything. Just a few moments of pleasure and whole lot of problems.

As long as she was sitting there looking so beautiful, Wilson decided to check her out. The long and slender expanse of her neck, her deep, bountiful cleavage, perfectly positioned, round breasts, slim and curvy waistline, long legs and small feet. And then his eyes moved back up again. Their eyes suddenly met and she blushed and smiled at Wilson. Briefly, he smiled back. Then he pretended to be interested in a strange red spot on the floor of the bus.

At that moment, the bus hit a huge bump or pothole in the road, causing several of the passengers to be lifted into the air and just about topple over. A few bags and purses fell on the dusty floor, the business man's laptop computer slipped off of his lap and hit the foot of another passenger. Wilson's briefcase fell and popped open, scattering papers everywhere. He cursed and bent down to collect them. The woman helped. As they picked them up, their hands touched, only briefly and Wilson's face flushed suddenly as the mere touch of her hand sent a warming shiver through him. Awkwardly, he threw the papers into his briefcase half-hazardly, not even bothering to put them in a neat pile. He'd worry about reorganizing them later.

"Hate it when that happens," the woman said as Wilson snapped his case shut and looked back up. She was smiling and was unaware of the captivating picture she made when she did so. Wilson smiled back, shifted in his seat, then decided to introduce himself. He held out his hand and the touch of her hand was suddenly, almost unbearable in its tenderness. His body tingled from the contact.

"James Wilson," he said as they shook, silently thanking God that his voice hadn't cracked.

"I'm Layna Bartlett," she answered. "It's nice to meet you. Always nice to see a new face on the bus." She leaned over and whispered, "The same people doing the same things every day… it gets to be a little tedious after a while."

"It must," Wilson nodded and, hoping that Layna wouldn't mind, he got up and took the empty space next to her. He placed his briefcase on the floor between his feet. As he sat, a strange and familiar scent filled his nostrils. It was not the stench of the bus, but what was it? Was that… grapefruit? Wilson let out a silent and shuddering sigh. Grapefruit. It was an aphrodisiac for Wilson and the scent enticed his senses. He fought back the urge to move up right against her to take in more of the grapefruit scent but instead slid a little in the opposite direction. He had only known this woman for five minutes and he was already hooked. He had that "funny" feeling. That was his excuse for cheating on all of his wives. He remembered telling House how there was always a woman who gave him that feeling and he couldn't resist. There were far too many interesting and beautiful women around for Wilson to settle down with just one. His affairs lasted longer than his marriages. And after awhile, he'd just get bored and move-on to the next girl. He was a classic womanizer.

It hadn't been that long ago that he had left Julie and stayed at House's apartment for a few days. Now he was shacked up in a hotel room, feeling lonely and pathetic, left to wonder why he had been so stupid. Why did he keep hurting his wives and sabotaging every marriage?

"So where are you headed?" Layna asked, breaking into Wilson's thoughts.

"Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital," he replied.

Layna looked interested.

"Oh really?" she said. "Are you an intern or one of the doctors?"

"I'm Head of Oncology," Wilson said, proudly. It always sounded so impressive to others.

"Well, of course!" Layna exclaimed as if she had just made an incredible discovery. "Dr. James Wilson! I read one of your essays in a medical journal last year. I think it was about the different forms of lymphatic cancer and some of the breakthroughs in finding a cure. Very intriguing." She nodded her approval. Wilson was genuinely impressed.

"Thank you," he said, slightly surprised. "You read medical journals?"

"Oh no," Layna laughed a little. "It was a free issue that came with the morning newspaper." Wilson couldn't help laughing, too. "Sorry to disappoint you." Layna added.

"You read my essay," Wilson said. "That's all that matters." He smiled at her, somewhat affectionately. "So what about you? Where are you going?" he inquired.

"Same place," she answered and Wilson was instantly happy. "Well, almost. The park across the street, actually. I thought I'd try and get some exercise in before it snows."

Wilson knew the park she spoke of. House went there quite often to hide from Cuddy. Well, at least until she found about it. It was there that House had made a connection with a confused and hurt rape victim. It was a jogging park and House said he liked to watch the people running and imagining that he could do it, too.

"It does feel like it could snow any day now," Wilson agreed. "What are you going to do when it does?"

"Go to the gym," Layna replied, simply.

And thus began their hour-long conversation. Layna asked Wilson all about his job and talked about her life and her career. Before he knew it, they had arrived at the stop in front of the hospital. The hour hadn't seemed long at all. Wilson and Layna both bid the driver goodbye and climbed down the stairs and off of the bus, along with a few other people, most of who headed to the hospital.

"I had a nice time," Layna said.

"Me too," said Wilson. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"You bet!" Layna replied as she pulled her gorgeous hair into a ponytail and pushed the button to cross the street.

Go ahead, ask her. Wilson's brain told him. You know you want to. Do it. Don't be stupid. Go on! You'll regret it if you don't.

"Well, bye." Wilson waved and headed for work, feeling like a complete idiot. He knew he should've asked Layna out for dinner. Or something. Now, if it snowed, he'd lost his only chance. Wilson could hardly believe that he was actually looking forward to taking the bus the next day.

"I love the bus!" he exclaimed.

Everyday, every morning, Wilson sat with Layna and they had long, very interesting conversations. And everyday, she smelled like sweet, fresh grapefruit and it was beginning to drive Wilson wild. The scent was becoming a drug and it made his head spin. But yet, he still hadn't asked her out. This was something that usually came easy to Wilson. If he liked someone enough and they gave him that "funny" feeling, he could ask them without a second thought. But he had no vehicle and his accounts were frozen, thanks to Tritter. Wilson was starting to wonder if he should just come clean with the anal cop. He was preventing Wilson from having a life.

Somehow, through their conversations, Wilson had brought up the whole Tritter/House fiasco.

"Don't you think your friend should just tell the truth so the rest of you can have your accounts unfrozen and you can get your car back?" Layna asked.

"Of course," said Wilson. "But he won't admit to anything. House only thinks about himself. He can't see outside the box. He doesn't care about the rest of us." Wilson sighed. Cutting a deal with Tritter was sounding better all the time.

"Well, you do," Layna pointed out. "If you truly think that Dr. House needs help, you should confess everything. I know he's your best friend, but you shouldn't feel that you have to lie to protect him." Layna put her hand over his and Wilson instinctively turned his hand around and intertwined their fingers. A sensuous wave of heat passed between them as they looked at each other. They remained silent for the remainder of the ride and Wilson's heart swelled with a feeling he had thought long since dead.

Wilson did at last, confess everything to Tritter. House was beyond pissed. But Wilson rode on the hope that one day, House would understand and maybe even thank him. In his own sarcastic and roundabout way, of course. At the very least, Wilson once again had control over his own bank accounts and renewed access to his vehicle.

But he took the bus again. And all because of Layna. He simply couldn't tear himself away. He knew he was falling and falling hard.

On the bus, Wilson sat next to Layna whose fingers drummed distractedly on her crossed knee. Wilson reached out and laced her fingers with his own. The personal contact warmed him and again he took in the fresh, sensual scent of pink grapefruit. He had a sudden urge to place soft kisses along her jaw line, all the way to her chin then up to her lips. She was staring out the window as Wilson reveled in her beauty. Her face was well-molded and feminine. She had soft green eyes and long lashes that swept down across her high, exotic cheekbones. Her hair was flaming red and practically begged Wilson to weave his hands through it and feel the fire.

Layna felt his eyes on her and she turned to gaze back at him. Reflected light glimmered over his handsome face like beams of icy radiance. He looked over her, seductively and she could feel the sexual magnetism that made him so self-confident.

Without breaking eye contact, Wilson reached over to pull the wire that would alert the driver to stop. His arm brushed lightly against Layna's face and she flushed instantaneously as her heart jolted and her pulse pounded.

They got off the bus, their hands still entwined and watched the bus leave. Wilson moved his hands to her waist and pulled her closer, gently, but with an air of command that she had to obey. He radiated a vitality that drew her in like a magnet.

"I have my car," Wilson declared, unable to say anything else at the moment.

"And you still took the bus!" Layna said in surprise.

Wilson nodded and drew her in closer so that both of his arms were around her waist. Her nearness was overwhelming and kindled feelings of fire. He projected an energy and power that undeniably attracted her. A strange, faintly eager look flashed in his intense, brown eyes.

"Yes," he replied. "I wondered… would you have dinner with me?"

"I'd love to." Layna said, breathlessly. Her arms were on his shoulders, her fingers slightly grasping at his trench coat. They shared an intense physical awareness of one another before separating, reluctantly.

"How does about seven o'clock sound?" Wilson suggested and she nodded, unable to speak. He was so very good-looking and she was surprised at how strongly she reacted to him.

Wilson pulled a pen and a blank sheet of paper from out of his briefcase, tore it in two and handed one piece to Layna. She jotted down her address and phone number and Wilson did the same. Well, he only wrote down his phone number since he had decided not to tell Layna that his home was currently a hotel room.

Wilson gazed at the piece of paper with her curvy handwriting on it as though it were a priceless treasure. She did the same before folding it up and tucking it safely in her pocket.

"I'll see you at seven then." Wilson said and then hurried away so he could get to work and get the day over with.

Wilson had made reservations at a very posh, very expensive restaurant. It was the same restaurant that he took all of his women to. It was almost ceremonial. Take them to a lavish restaurant, sip wine and eat curious food, then take them home and sleep with them. And not call the next day. Or ever again, for that matter. It was callous of him, Wilson knew all too well. It sounded more like something House would do. But it really was Wilson's way. The first time was always the most incredible. He knew it would never feel the same the second, third and fourth time. It would get boring, dull and repetitive. So he'd leave, anyway.

Then there were his ex-wives. He had stayed long enough to get engaged and marry them. But he had stayed too long. They expected too much of him, he thought. They wanted a Knight in Shining Armour. But he was always working late and coming home in the wee small hours of morning, too tired to do much of anything except sleep. Lack of intimacy was very frustrating, so Wilson found times during the day to sneak away and see other women; to get satisfaction elsewhere. To cheat on his current wife. And when he did manage to come home early, he had no desire whatsoever to be with his wife.

Maybe that was why the tables had turned and Julie cheated on him. It hadn't hurt as much as Wilson thought it would, mainly because he had been cheating as well. He wasn't stupid, he knew women had their sexual frustrations, too. They'd have to, with the way Wilson treated them. Maybe theirs were even greater than his own.

Wilson wondered what would happen between him and Layna. He really liked her, more than he had any other woman. She challenged him. She intrigued him. She was an ever-changing mystery. And somehow, she was above all the other women Wilson had ever been with. They had all been wrong for him. Because they were all below him. At least Layna seemed to be on the same level, or maybe a little bit above. But would she end up like all the others? Would he sleep with her and then discard her like and old shoe? Or maybe he would marry her. Things would be great for a while, then he'd run off and have an affair to fill some unknown void or desire. Would the vicious cycle ever end?

Wilson decided right then and there that this time, things would be different.

Different. Right.

The minute Wilson saw Layna in her figure-hugging, black silk dress with diamond-studded spaghetti straps (fake, of course) and dainty black heels, he wanted to take her right there at the front door. He could barely muster up a compliment.

"You look… amazing!" he finally blurted out and she smiled her thanks.

All through dinner, Layna talked and sipped champagne while Wilson mostly just stared. Her make-up was done to perfection, only to enhance, not overly done. The sides of her luscious red hair were pulled back with barrettes and a few soft wisps of hair delicately framed her face. His eyes fell to the creamy expanse of her neck and he thought about placing his lips there, breathing in that glorious, titillating scent. Even across the table, Wilson could smell the grapefruit.

"James, are you all right?" Layna asked, noticing that Wilson had only nibbled distractedly at his food. "You barely touched your meal."

Wilson poked at the baked potato on his plate with his fork.

"Is it Dr. House?" she inquired. "Is he upset with you?"

Wilson was mainly distracted by Layna and the way she looked. House was the furthest thing from his mind. But at least he could use that as an excuse.

"Yea, he's pissed," Wilson told her, sighing and putting down his fork. "He just thinks I'm a spineless rat. A tattle-tale."

Layna looked sympathetic.

"Well, I think it took a lot of courage to come clean," she declared, sincerely. "Especially when your best friend's freedom is at risk."

Wilson didn't feel courageous at all. Yes, he wanted to help House but his main reason for confession was to get his car and bank account back again so he could finally take Layna out. He didn't want to lie to her, either.

"I really only did it to get my car back," Wilson admitted, sheepishly.

"You really hate the bus that much?" she laughed and gave him an incredulous smile.

"Not since I met you," Wilson said and her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "I wanted to take you out properly." he added. "I mean, how classy would it look for me to come and pick you up in a cab? Plus, I couldn't even pay for one."

They both laughed. What had started out as a misfortune for Wilson ended up being the beginning of something new and exciting. He never thought he'd meet anyone on the bus. And certainly not someone as amazing as Layna.

By the time they finished dinner, dessert and coffee, it was too late to do much of anything else. A movie would have been nice, but they had already missed the late show and there really wasn't anything interesting playing anyway. So, Wilson took Layna home. The moment they had been anticipating was now upon them. They were at her front door, gazing into each other's eyes and holding both hands. It was a perilous attraction. The want and need they had for one another was unbearable. Only a short time and one dinner and Layna dared to wonder what it would be like to be crushed within Wilson's embrace. Wilson was struggling with similar feelings of his own. He wanted to feel every part of her pressed against him. Her lips on his, her breasts against his chest, her hands in his hair, her softness against his hardness… so much of everything.

"Layna," He pulled her closer and she tingled as he said her name. He wove his fingers through her hair, taking his time, memorizing the softness of it. Her hands went around his neck, their faces only inches apart. Her closeness was like a drug, lulling Wilson to sweet euphoria. Layna couldn't miss the musky smell of him as he pressed her closer. The warmth of his arms was so male, so bracing. She felt her toes curl in anticipation. Wilson's fingertips traced the outline of Layna's face and she wound her arms inside his jacket and around his back. And then, his lips slowly descended to meet hers. He smothered them with demanding mastery and the feeling sent a shock wave through her entire body. She returned the kiss with reckless abandon. As Wilson roused her passion, his own grew stronger and he felt his pants tighten around his waist. He moved his lips to her jaw line, her ear and her neck, at last entirely taking in the sweet, intoxicating scent of grapefruit. Wilson's pants tightened even more and he realized they were quickly approaching the point of no return.

It was too soon, too fast.

Wilson hurtled back to earth as reality struck and at last, reluctantly, they parted a few inches.

"Layna, you're wonderful," Wilson whispered into her hair. He loved everything about her. How she looked, how she felt and how she tasted. "Can we… have dinner again?"

Layna nodded and tried to pull her drifting thoughts together. Without looking away, she backed out of his grasp.

"Tomorrow night, six o'clock?" Wilson asked.

"Perfect," Layna replied as she unlocked her front door. "Good night, James. Pleasant dreams."

"Pleasant dreams," Wilson repeated as she closed the door.

He headed for his car, got in and sat there for a very long time, thinking. He had felt the strong passion within himself and had almost completely lost control. Normally, he would have succumbed to the sexual desire but somehow, this time, he wanted to wait. With Layna, everything had to be perfect.

Layna was laying in the drowsy warmth of her bed, thinking. She was astonished at the sense of fulfillment she felt. James Wilson had taken her so far from there, only with his kiss. She recalled the ecstasy of being held against his strong body and she hungered from the memory of his mouth on hers. When was the last time she had truly enjoyed herself with a man? She couldn't recall. Maybe never, never this much. Wilson was her Knight in Shining Armour, as he had been to every other women he'd ever been with. The only question was, how long it would it last? Because Layna had a secret.

End Part One