Author's Notes: Written for Remix/Redux 7. I remixed Little Miss Mimi's story "Hollow Lies" - for a story just a little bit longer than a drabble, it provided me with a lot of ideas to work with. It's also a bit of a remix of Harold Pinter's play Betrayal, for reasons which may or may not become clear (even if you've seen the play/movie).


January 2008 (Frozen)

When the phone rang, Julie picked up without looking at the call display. That was her first mistake. Her second was not hanging up as soon as she recognized the voice on the other end.

"Julie, Julie, Julie, do you love me?"

She hated that she still found his voice attractive. "I never loved you, House."

"You say 'no' now, but I remember you shouting, 'Yes, yes, yes.'"

"You're delusional. And that was never about anything except sex." That wasn't entirely true. It would take a cartographer to map out all the emotions that were involved in that encounter, but love -- of House, at least -- wasn't one of them. "Why are you calling?"

"Are you sleeping with him?"

Julie didn't bother asking who he was talking about. There was only ever one "him" where House was concerned. "I'm in a relationship with someone else."

"You were in a relationship with someone else when you started seeing this someone else. And since that someone else was Wilson, sleeping him now makes perfect sense."

Only to House. Julie had never understood the way House's mind worked, and she was happier keeping it that way. "I'm not sleeping with James. I haven't seen him in nearly a year," she added, anticipating his next question. "Some of us are capable of moving on."

"Not Wilson," he replied. "Your phone number is still on his speed dial. He didn't take Bonnie off until just before you eloped. That should have tipped me off that he was going to do something stupid."

She didn't know what annoyed her more -- House's opinion of her marriage or the fact that James had kept his ex-wife on speed dial while they were dating. And yet it didn't surprise her. James was loyal, if not faithful. "Then you should be thrilled. He's not sleeping with me and he's not about to elope. You have him all to yourself." Julie hated the way her voice sounded when she talked to House.

"He's sleeping with somebody," House replied. "Who is it?"

When he grunted impatiently, Julie realized he actually expected her to answer. "What part of 'I haven't seen him in nearly a year' didn't you understand?"

"The part where your phone number is also in his outgoing calls log. He's usually better at covering his tracks, but sex makes him careless."

Only with his wedding vows. When it came to sex, James took a great deal of care. Sometimes she wished that it had only been about sex with him. That had been fantastic, until the end. It was the love that had healed and hurt her.

"I never said we hadn't talked. He called to tell me that his cousin had her baby. He knew I'd want to send a card." Another grunt told her that House hadn't known about that. He had always been a specialist, rather than a generalist, when it came to knowing James.

"If he's seeing someone," she continued, "he didn't tell me. But even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. Whoever she is, she deserves not to have you in her life." Fat chance of that happening. James might be hiding a new relationship now, but he couldn't keep it from House indefinitely. "He sounded happy. That's why you're calling, isn't it?" She shook her head, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "He's happy, so you have to find some way to ruin it."

"Call it a pre-emptive strike," House said coolly. "After all, the last person who slipped past my guard seduced his best friend and broke his heart."

Julie had to stop herself from slamming the receiver down, which would only please House and subject her to a second call. "You act as if you were just an observer," she retorted. "You were a willing participant, and James was hardly an innocent victim." She wasn't proud of what she'd done, but she hadn't acted in a vacuum. "He told me about the accountant. God knows how many others there were that he didn't confess."

"He's just a guy who can't say no," House sang. She wondered how many pills he'd taken before he called. "But then he wouldn't have married you otherwise."

It shouldn't surprise her that James had told House she'd been the one to propose. She'd told the story often enough to her friends -- usually as a cautionary tale -- but it still felt like a betrayal. "What are you going to do when you find out who he's seeing?"

"So many excellent options," he said. "Usually meeting me is enough to scare the weak ones off. The stubborn or stupid ones take a little more effort. But what's life without challenge?"

"What about the ones who actually love James?" Her voice wavered, and she hoped House would think it was the connection. Otherwise, she'd just handed him an open invitation to mock her.

But House surprised her. "I leave them alone until they stop loving him," he said, and there was no hint of mocking in his voice.

"And then you sleep with them," she said, half-laughing, half-crying, "so that he'll stop loving them. Even if it means he might stop loving you as well?"

"Even if," House agreed, and she liked him a little more for not denying that James loved him. She liked him a lot more for being willing to lose James to save him.

"You don't have to worry," she said. "I told him, and he still went straight to your doorstep." The stunned silence on the other end of the line was only victory she was ever likely to earn over House. She smiled into the receiver. "I take it he never told you he knew."

"He just said you were having an affair. No wonder the passive-aggressive bastard was blow-drying his hair and clipping his nails at the crack of dawn." She could almost see him shake his head. "Why the hell did you tell him?"

"He was going to forgive me. So I had to tell him something unforgivable. Don't worry," she said. "I told him it was my fault, that you'd had no chance against my feminine wiles. People believe what they need to believe." She was counting on that.

House didn't say anything, and Julie was content just to listen to him breathe.

"Why didn't he say anything?" he asked finally.

"Because you were all he had left. Now don't you think you owe him another chance at happiness?" She'd waited two years to play that card, even if her opponents had long since folded. But it was worth the wait. She owed James another chance at happiness, too.