TITLE: Memoirs of an Oncology Department Secretary (1/4)
AUTHOR: hwshipper
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Heel and Toe Films, Shore Z Productions and Bad Hat Harry Productions in association with Universal Media Studios.
SUMMARY: This part: Nora sees first Wilson and then House come to work at PPTH.
BETA: the sterling tridunture.

Memoirs of an Oncology Department Secretary - chapter 1

"Nora, I need a favor." Wilson appeared at Nora's desk, grasping a large, narrow object in a case. He looked both entreating and slightly sheepish. "Could you find somewhere to hide this for a while? Not in the hospital."

Nora looked at the object. Even in its case, the size and shape made it unmistakable: it was House's white guitar which he had been playing non-stop for the last few weeks.

She held out a hand. "No problem."

"Thanks." Wilson handed it to her. "Um, he'll probably miss it quite soon, if you could take it somewhere now..."

"Of course." Nora picked up her handbag from underneath her desk, slung the guitar over her shoulder, and headed out the door.

She'd been at Princeton Plainsboro her whole working life. She'd been assistant to various Heads of Oncology for the previous twenty years. She'd had plenty of requests stranger than this one. This one didn't even make the top ten.


She'd first met Dr. Wilson on his first day at Princeton Plainsboro. Of course, Dr. Collins had still been Head of Oncology back then. Wilson had just been employed as an attending, one of the first appointments of the new young female Dean of Medicine who was kicking ass all around the hospital. Plenty of people were just waiting for her to trip up, but Nora was a Dr. Cuddy fan. There were far too many old fools sitting on their laurels at this hospital in Nora's opinion, and a bit of new blood was no bad thing.

Dr. Collins brought Wilson to her office mid-morning. "Nora, this is our new boy, Dr. James Wilson," he boomed. "Wilson, this is Nora, our departmental secretary and my assistant. You'll soon find out she's the one who really runs this place."

Wilson extended a hand, and Nora stood up and shook it. He had a firm handshake, which pleased her; she had a firm handshake herself. He was a lot taller than her, but then most people were, especially as she only wore flats; she'd never gotten on well with heels. She guessed he was over six feet, nearly a foot taller than she was. She was well-proportioned for her size though, so people didn't tend to think of her as small.

"Very pleased to meet you," Wilson said, and sounded sincere. He looked right at her, too. He had large brown eyes, darker than Nora's own hazel eyes.

"I know you've probably had enough of hospital paperwork already, but Nora's got a department form for you to fill in," Collins said to Wilson. "Name, address, vital statistics. Get that out of the way now, then I'll walk you around the wards."

Collins departed, and Wilson sat down in front of Nora's desk. Nora passed him a form. She sat back in her chair, and looked at his name badge. "Are you James Wilson or Jack Wilson? Your badge says Jack."

Wilson smiled, and started to write on the form. "James. I think the security guy couldn't read my writing on his form."

Nora looked down at the form. Wilson's writing really was appalling, and she'd seen hundreds of examples of terrible doctor handwriting over the years. But she also noticed he was left-handed, which she guessed didn't help. Most doctors didn't have that excuse.

"We can get the badge changed," she said, efficient administrator that she was.

"Oh, leave it for now; I'll be interested to see who else notices." Wilson's eyes danced briefly backwards towards the door in amusement, and Nora thought that Dr. Collins obviously hadn't noticed. She hoped Wilson hadn't smelt whiskey on Dr. Collins's breath. It would have been early in the day for that, even for Dr. Collins, but unfortunately not unprecedented.

"My husband's called Jack, that's probably why I noticed," she explained. And because she was proud of it, she brandished her left hand to show off her solid gold wedding band and her precious old-fashioned opal engagment ring, which had belonged to Jack's grandmother, and added, "We've been married twenty-five years this month."

"Really?" Wilson beamed at her. "Congratulations. Though it can't be true. You can't possibly be old enough to have been married twenty-five years."

She had a charmer on her hands. Nora knew she looked every bit of her forty-seven years, knew in fact she'd look much older if she didn't color her hair. She wasn't at all vain for the most part, but she'd found she'd gone grey very quickly after hitting thirty, and unable to cope with this, had dyed her hair. She was careful to make it the exact shade of nondescript brown it should have been. Now she was old enough to start to go grey gracefully, she was working towards lightening it very gradually.

But she couldn't help but smile at Dr. Wilson, who had appealing, puppy-dog eyes and hair that flopped down over his forehead ever so slightly. "Now now, Dr. Wilson, flattery will get you everywhere. Jack and I were childhood sweethearts; we got married on my twenty-second birthday." She glanced down at the form; he'd just written single in the Marital Status box. "You're not married yourself?"

"You can read my writing! And upside down!" Wilson exclaimed, and Nora almost laughed. He looked a little embarrassed as he went on, "I'm afraid you put me to shame with your twenty-five years. I'm not married, and I've got two divorces behind me."

Nora raised her eyebrows. She wouldn't normally have commented on this sort of thing, as it wasn't her business. However the tenor of their conversation so far encouraged her to reply in kind. "Now surely you can't be old enough to have got divorced twice."

"'Fraid so," he said lightly. "Guess I haven't met the right girl yet."

She looked down again at the form; he'd written 31 in the Age box. "Plenty of time for that."

She supposed this lack of a wife meant that she couldn't blame anyone but himself for the hideous choice of tie he was wearing - a dull blue with broad red stripes. Not that she was particularly fashion conscious herself, but she picked out all Jack's ties, and she knew they were in better taste than the one Wilson was wearing.

"And have you worked here for twenty-five years too?" he asked, scribbling away.

"Longer," she said, and because she was proud of this too, she went on, "Twenty-eight years next April."

"Wow. I guess I know who to come to with any Princeton Plainsboro queries." Wilson signed the bottom of the form with a flourish, and handed it back to her. She glanced down it, pausing at the career history; she had a high-flyer here too. Undergrad at McGill, med school at Columbia, residency at Mass Gen, two prestigious fellowships at Penn. She wondered how he'd time to get married twice. Or perhaps it was the career progression that had done for the marriages.

"Thank-you, Dr. Wilson," she said formally. "Dr. Collins will be in his office, through there."

Wilson stood up to go. "Very nice meeting you, Nora." He smiled again, and was gone.


Nora didn't have much to do with Dr. Wilson at first. She saw him around the department and he was always nice to her. He was obviously smart and witty. He got good patient reviews, seemed to get on well with all his colleagues, and generally settled down to be an asset to the department. And since she cared a great deal about the department, she was pleased.

One day she encountered someone who turned out to be a friend of Dr. Wilson's. She found a tall lanky man with a stubbled chin prowling around the Oncology corridors, peering through glass-paned doors. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm looking for Dr. James Wilson," the man said, standing on his toes to scan the corridor. "This is Oncology, right? He must have an office 'round here somewhere. Unless he's been fired in the last week or so."

Nora was amused. "Dr. Wilson's office is the other way as you come out the elevator." The man turned to look at her, and she noticed he had very bright blue eyes. She pointed to show where she meant.

"Hah. Thanks." The man started to walk off down the corridor, and at that moment Wilson appeared in the corridor, coming out of a ward. "Wilson!" the man barked.

"Hey, House." Wilson stopped and waited for House to reach him. "Come to visit my humble abode?"

They started to walk down the corridor towards Wilson's office. Nora was going in the same direction, so followed a few paces behind. She was struck by how closely Wilson and House walked together; they had fallen automatically into step and matched each other stride for stride.

"Why isn't your office with the rest of the Oncology department?" House demanded.

"New boy gets whatever office is empty," Wilson replied laconically. "Actually, it's kinda nice to be tucked out of the way a bit. And I get a balcony."

"Cool," said House.

Nora arrived at the elevator at that point, and so didn't see them arrive at Wilson's office. She had cause to go there later in the afternoon, though, with some mail. She found Wilson working at his desk while House was lounging on the couch. Neither House nor Wilson acted as if there was anything odd about this.


Nora soon discovered that Wilson's friend was also a doctor, Dr. Gregory House, though he wasn't a doctor at Princeton Plainsboro at all, but at Princeton Hospital on the other side of town. He had looked familiar, though, so Nora made some inquiries and discovered from colleagues in other departments that House already had a habit of visiting Princeton Plainsboro. House's girlfriend was a lawyer who did consultancy work both for Princeton Plainsboro and Princeton Hospital.

Once Nora heard that, she remembered a lawsuit a year ago in Oncology, where Stacy had helped out. Nora hadn't been involved much in that, but she did recall Stacy spending some time with Dr. Collins, and House hanging around waiting for her one day. He was a memorable sort of guy, House. Of course Nora had never seen him working as a doctor, but she had a hard time imagining him in a white coat helping patients.

She caught a small glimpse into House and Wilson's friendship one day, maybe six months after Wilson had started work at Princeton Plainsboro. Nora had known Jack would be working late that evening, fulfilling a rush order at the print factory where he worked, so she stayed late herself, catching up on paperwork, and went to the hospital cafeteria to get a bite of dinner before going home. She was sitting at a table drinking coffee afterwards and reading a paperback, when Wilson walked past, saying, "Hi Nora."

She nodded at him and smiled, but didn't take her nose out of her book, not wanting to be interrupted. Wilson was heading past her anyway, carrying a plate of french fries, and then she spotted House sitting a few tables away. Wilson sat down opposite him, his back towards Nora. She wasn't trying to listen, but she could hear them speak quite clearly anyway.

"Bad news," House said to Wilson, and grabbed a handful of the fries. "Stacy's been commandeered by Cuddy for a case. She can't come to the movie tonight."

"Oh. Sorry." Wilson tried to grab some of the fries back. "We could still go?"

"That's what Stacy said. But I know she really wants to see this one, so perhaps we could all go on Saturday instead." House plucked a fry right out of Wilson's fingers and stuck it in his mouth.

"Sure." Wilson looked down at his fast emptying plate, and asked rather ruefully, "Want to go get a drink instead?"

"Sure," said House, and at that moment Cuddy walked past, carrying a can of soda she had obviously just bought. She stopped by their table.

"Dr. House, what a surprise," she said dryly. "Distracting my doctors from their work again, I see?" Wilson looked up at her, alarmed, and Cuddy apparently took pity on him as she added, "Don't worry, Dr. Wilson, I know you're off duty."

"Ah, it's the evil queen who's lured Stacy away from the cinema with a promise of filthy lucre," House growled.

"Stacy is saving this hospital's collective ass, not for the first time," Cuddy retorted.

"Actually, maybe you lured her with a promise of your breasts," House said, his eyes glued to Cuddy's cleavage, which was right in his sight line. Cuddy was wearing a really quite low cut black top with a lace trim. Some people in the hospital said Cuddy dressed like a slut, but Nora always argued that Dr. Cuddy just knew how to use her femininity to get what she wanted. Certainly Nora had noticed that Dr. Collins was helpless to do anything but nod and agree when he was faced with Cuddy's breasts. Nora was, however, a little surprised by House's comment, which implied a greater familiarity than she had previously realized. Hospital scuttlebutt was that House and Cuddy knew each other from way back, although the grapevine was vague as to when and where. Looked like that might have been true.

"Have a fun evening, little boys," Cuddy said, completely ignoring House's comment, and walked on by, out of the cafeteria. House and Wilson both followed her departing figure with their eyes, then turned back to look at each other.

"How can we make it a fun evening?" House said, and stuck the last fry in his mouth.

Wilson dropped his voice and said something Nora couldn't hear. She saw House's reaction, though; a small, slow smile spread across his face. She didn't know House at all, but even so, she was surprised at the intensity of that smile, which was also playful and affectionate. House then laughed, and stood up, and turned to leave.

Wilson stood up too, and turned slightly to grab his jacket off the back of his chair, so Nora saw his face full-on too, just for a few seconds. Wilson also had a grin on his face, and again Nora was startled, because she knew Wilson's smiles much better than House's, and this was animated, intense, vibrantlike no smile of his she'd ever seen before.


"I'm afraid it's cancer," their family doctor said to Jack.

And that was how Nora eventually got to know Wilson much better, for all the wrong reasons. Jack had been ill, and the grim diagnosis came back: lung cancer. People said to her how ironic it was, Jack getting cancer and her working in an oncology department and all. Nora hated this reaction, and invariably retorted that it was all that could be expected, Jack having smoked every day of his life since he was fourteen.

They considered having him treated somewhere other than Princeton Plainsboro, but actually it made no sense not to, financially and otherwise. Nora could see him there any time she wanted. She could make sure he got the best treatment, as far as possible.

She was relieved, however, when Dr. Collins decided it wouldn't be a good idea for him, the department head, to personally treat Jack, the departmental secretary's husband. He delegated it down to his newest doctor instead. This was Wilson, who had by now been working there about a year.

Nora would have been just as happy with several other doctors in Oncology, some of whom she had known for a long time, but she was also pleased to have Wilson, who was clearly bright and still new enough to be keen to impress. She prided herself on her professionalism, though, so was a little worried about what it would be like having one of her doctors treating her husband. It helped that she was naturally stoic, and so was Jack; got cancer, life's a bitch, get used to it. They expressed doubts and hopes and fears to each other, but she managed to keep her cool around Wilson and ask measured, intelligent questions. She wasn't a doctor or a nurse, but she hadn't worked in Oncology as long as she had without gaining some knowledge of the subject.

The closest she came to breaking down was after their first consultation, when she'd left Jack with nurses for a few moments while some tests were carried out, and stepped out of the room with Wilson, and said, "Thank you, Dr. Wilson," and her voice shook ever so slightly.

Wilson looked at her, and said just the sort of thing she needed to hear. "We caught it early. Actually, you caught it early. Most people wouldn't spot symptoms like that until they were much more advanced."

She straightened her back a little. "I guess I've seen enough people coming in and out of here to make a spot when I have to."

"It was a good call," he said gently.

As time went by, Nora realized that she had fallen on her feet. Wilson was good. Good at talking to Jack and herself, soft-voiced, never patronizing, explaining just as much as they wanted explained, giving options and guidance. Good at getting them to the front of queues for treatments or medicine or equipment, never making them wait or doubt. His knowledge was up-to-date, and he really knew his stuff. Nora soon came to trust him implicitly.


Jack responded well to initial treatment, and was soon in remission. Nora was happy. She knew they weren't out of the woods, probably never would be out of the woods, but things were as good for now as she'd hoped they would be.

It was maybe a year and a half after Wilson had started at the hospital that House came to work at Princeton Plainsboro too. He'd been fired from Princeton Hospital; there was no secret about that. Nora arranged to have lunch with one of the administrators she knew over there, and got the gossip. He'd screwed up, a patient had died, and it wasn't his first such mistake.

"He's a risk taker," said her friend. "He's been skating on thin ice for ages, and they've just been waiting for him to make another slip-up. Apparently he's been fired beforesomeone said this was the fourth time."

In return, Nora shared her knowledge of how he'd come to Princeton Plainsboro. Cuddy had hired him, and again there was no secret about it, Cuddy had driven a hard bargain. House wasn't in a position to negotiate. Stacy's successful legal career (really taking off, people said) meant he had a powerful incentive to stay in Princeton; didn't have to move from their apartment where they were both very settled, didn't have to go through the aggravation of interviews elsewhere where his reputation would of course have preceded him. Nora heard from Debbie in Accounting that Cuddy had forced him to take a fifty percent pay cut.

Cuddy put House in Princeton Plainsboro's Infectious Diseases department, and within a month there was a near revolt as the other doctors resented Cuddy putting a cuckoo in their nest, as they saw it.

Nora lunched one day with the Infectious Diseases departmental secretary to hear how things were going.

"The man's a menace," her counterpart said flatly. "Doesn't pull his weight. He's good, when he worksbut often he just isn't working. Everyone thinks he's sleeping with Dr. Cuddy and that's the only reason he's here."

Nora really didn't buy that. She pointed out how close House and Stacy were.

"Used to have a thing with Cuddy, then," the other secretary said peevishly. "There's some sort of history there, didn't you know? I reckon she's still got a torch for him."

Things did eventually settle down. Nora suspected that Wilson and Stacy between them launched a concerted effort to get House to accept his new position and make the most of it. And there was no denying that House at his best was a Good Thing for the hospital. Once he knuckled down, he made a couple of calls on some rare infectious diseases that made the national press, and led to a well-received conference paper and a couple of seminal articles in medical journals. His departmental colleagues continued to grumble at his attitude and working methods, but learned to give him space to do his own thing.


House was well-established at Princeton Plainsboro when Nora saw something, well, heard something, actually, one evening, that stayed with her for a very long time.

It was very lateearly hours of the morning, in factbut she was only just going home. Jack was in the hospital for tests, and one advantage of being on staff was that she didn't have to comply with normal visiting hours. It had been a long week though, and she was exhausted. In fact she'd bumped into Wilson a couple of hours before, and he'd been shocked at how tired she'd looked, and told her to go straight home that minute and get some rest. She had said she would, but she hadn't, not straight away. She'd been distracted, answered a few more emails that seemed urgent, and went and spent some more time with Jack, until she realized she was close to collapse with tiredness.

She was walking through the underground parking garage and fumbling for keys when she pulled a handful of loose change out of her purse instead. Coins rolled on the ground and vanished into the darkness; the garage wasn't well-lit and several coins had gone into a completely dark corner. She knelt down in the corner, groping for the coins, and then heard the sound of voices distantly, from the other side of the car park. She recognized Wilson's voice.

Damn, she didn't want him to see her, didn't want him to know that she hadn't gone home earlier like he'd told her to. She stayed very still, knowing she couldn't be seen.

He was talking to House; she saw them both, briefly illuminated as they walked under a fluorescent light, walking close together. They always walked close together. This part of the underground car park was absolutely deserted, no people and few cars. She could see Wilson's Volvo nearby, and House's motorcycle next to it, and she was relieved they wouldn't have to walk past her to get there.

House and Wilson stopped by Wilson's car, standing close together. Nora thought she could see House touching Wilson's arm, but she could have been mistaken. Suddenly, for no reason Nora could see, Wilson stepped sideways and backwards out of the light, into a dark corner. House hesitated for a second, then stepped after him. Nora squinted, but it was pitch black just there and she couldn't make them out at all.

They were only about twenty feet away though, and she could hear some murmurs, then House let out a small sigh, and then she heard Wilson say quite distinctly, "Stacy expecting you back?"

House replied in a low growl, "Yeah. Is that going to make anyJesus fucking Christ, Wilson."

Nora knew it was none of her business but she couldn't help straining the hell out of her eyes trying to see what was happening. It was no good, it was just too dark. She resolved to send a memo to Cuddy about inadequate lighting in the garage.

"Wilson, fuck, Jesus," House gasped, and let out a short, strangled moan; and then there was a short silence.

Then very softly, so soft Nora could hardly make it out, Wilson's voice: "My turn."

"You'll have to give me a minute." House's voice came out between pants.

There was another short silence, then Nora heard a tiny clinking sound, like a belt buckle. She thought that Wilson had been wearing a belt, but not House. Then Wilson's voice, suddenly tense: "God, House."

"That's me," House muttered, his voice echoing against the concrete.

Wilson drew in a sharp intake of breath, and there wasn't any more talking for the next minute or so, no sound at all from House and just stifled gasps and exclamations from Wilson, and then silence again.

Then the belt buckle clink, and suddenly there was picture to go with the sound, as Wilson stepped out of the dark corner back under the light again. He looked as cool as a cucumber, pretty much the same as he had done a few minutes before. His expression was nonchalant as he glanced swiftly around the garage, making sure nobody was around. House appeared a minute later, and he did look different; his hair was tousled, his T-shirt rumpled, and he was wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. Nora thought she could also see oil stains on the knees of his jeans.

"Wilson, you bastard, I can't go home like this," House rasped, as Wilson unlocked his car door.

Wilson looked at him, and said, matter-of-fact, "Phone Stacy and tell her you're crashing on my couch tonight. Leave the bike."

House hesitated for a second, then nodded, and got in the passenger side door. Wilson started the engine and drove away.

Nora stood up, relieved, her legs aching from several minutes kneeling on the concrete floor. She wondered if House was feeling the same. Of course he hadn't been kneeling as long as she just had.


That night Nora thought long and hard about what she'd seen (well, heard) trying to make sense of it all. She kept thinking about Wilson's two divorces. She knew nothing about the circumstancesit wasn't her businessbut she felt she had some inkling as to a reason for them now. She also kept thinking about House and Stacy. She'd seen enough of House and Stacy together to know they were a good couple, a great couple. She'd swear to anyone she knew that they were in love. And yet, and yet... there was something about House and Wilson. Nora knew she had the benefit of hindsight, but she really thought she'd seen something there now from the start. She wasn't entirely sure what.

Next day Nora was in her office when Wilson dropped by with some files. "Hey Nora, how are you?" he asked, putting the files down on her desk.

"I'm fine, thank you, Dr. Wilson," Nora said, looking at Wilson, trying not to make it look like she was staring, trying to see any trace, any hint at all of the Wilson she had seenwell, heardlast night. She couldn't see a thing. Nothing was different. It was just Wilson, just like he'd been yesterday, just like he'd be tomorrow.

He looked at her in concern, then sat down in front of her desk. "Are you sure? You look a little pale."

"No I'm fine, just didn't sleep much last night," Nora said truthfully.

Wilson still looked concerned. "You're not worrying about Jack, are you? Because he's getting on so well, as well as we could hope for. Test results are really good. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, I know that." Thanks to you, Nora added silently.

"Well, OK then." Wilson nodded, and smiled encouragingly at her. It was a nice smile, a genuine smile, and it made Nora remember those intense smiles she'd seen House and Wilson exchange over the cafeteria table that one time. And suddenly she understood, not that she could have explained anything rationally, but she saw that House made Wilson feel funny, and good, and Wilson made House feel funny, and good. And that would be the case no matter what else was going on in each of their lives.

"I'll have that funding bid typed up for you this afternoon," she said to Wilson, remembering to be the consummate professional.

He beamed back at her, and said, "I'm so glad you can read my writing."

Nora watched him go. Later she thought it was perhaps strange that it was at this particular moment that she decided Dr. Wilson could do no wrong, and she became the fiercest, most staunch supporter at Princeton Plainsboro that Wilson could have.

She remembered this very clearly a couple of years later, when that terrible thing happened with House's leg.

TBC