"Ignorance is bliss."
I meant every word when I forked over the hundred dollars to House after the cops took the patient's wife into custody.
When I walked out of his office to pick up my things, I felt like celebrating. Come on—I looked into those disconcerting blue eyes of his as I fished the money out of the waistband of my pants and barely blinked—the old Allison wouldn't have been able to hold her own in a staring contest with big bad House.
Oh, what the hell. I dropped by at a 7-Eleven on my way home and splurged on an overpriced Pinot Noir. Since it's my day off tomorrow, I didn't feel the need to be careful with my alcohol intake as I took a nice big swig of the stuff from the bottle as I ate my freshly microwaved TV dinner.
It feels good to ignore decorum for once.
My dearly departed Jason told me on our honeymoon that I looked good in red. I don't know why that suddenly came up last week, but it did.
I planned to skip the Casino Night Fundraiser—it hit Jason's death anniversary, and I always asked for time off on that day. But when I recalled what Jason said to me, I decided to celebrate his memory differently this year.
With some help from my friend Nancy, who knew the store manager at the nearby mall, I found the perfect outfit for Casino Night.
When Foreman and Chase spotted me at the hospital lobby, they asked me if I had a date with me.
"I came alone," I said flippantly. "If I get lucky, I might be able to pick up a rich date who'll spoil me with lots of trinkets and buy me my own hospital."
Foreman and his date chuckled. Chase choked on his drink—it looks suspiciously girly.
As the night progressed, it turned out I was right about being lucky. I didn't bag a rich guy, but I did make House drool openly in front of Foreman and Chase.
I'm not a suspicious person, but I silently thanked Jason for reminding me about my ideal color palette.
Men are pigs—what am I saying? I'm insulting a hapless species for nothing.
First it was House and his crack about hiring me for my looks.
Then it was Chase when he took advantage of me while I was high.
Now it's Foreman stealing my article.
Wilson—Wilson's a notorious flirt and a busybody. I'm surprised he's straight.
After dealing with the lesbian patient and her lover, I junked that alternative and decided that getting into any relationship was pointless.
Oh my God, I'm turning into House…all I need is another oncologist for my very own.
When he's in a drug-induced coma, House looks so vulnerable, almost sweet.
I had an arrangement with the nurses in the ICU while House was in a coma; they would tell me in advance if House is alone and stone-cold so that I could see him without anyone else knowing.
Yeah—I am pathetic, but I'm willing to bet my residency and fellowship that even Cuddy would rather deal with a knocked-out House than the regular House. At least, when he's in a coma, you won't have to suffer his arrogance.
The good things about that time—he was the only patient in that ward, and my position as a doctor gave me an excuse to lift the hem of his hospital gown from time to time…
And he told me he's damaged? With what he's packing under that robe?
Fuck shit!
FIN