"How many people have you told?" Thirteen pushed the glass door shut as she spoke. Her voice was low, hoarse, as if she'd been crying. She didn't even check to see if House was alone in his office, she had just trudged in, needing to talk to him.
Now that she was in House's darkened office she could see that he was alone, tuning his guitar. He looked up at her momentarily then returned his focus to the keys. He didn't act like he cared if she was upset with him. He just kept "working". They had already solved this week's puzzle, the pretty boy actor, and House was just waiting until he could go home without Cuddy giving him crap for leaving early.
Thirteen had been doing clinic duty, just waiting until she could do her boss's paperwork without House giving her crap. She was content to be in the clinic, mostly. Thirteen had complemented a Dr. Cameron on her blouse, and the doctor had pulled Thirteen aside and said "Thank you, but I don't swing that way." When Thirteen tried to explain that "Oh, didn't mean—That's just a cute top." Her voice suddenly jumping a half octave up didn't help her case. Also, that was the fourth person in three days to say something to the degree of 'you're a dyke, fuck off'. And Thirteen was getting tired of it.
Only one way to shut down the rumor mill, go to the source. The source most likely being House. And he was not someone she wanted to talk to right now. Foreman had been the one to id her as bi, lord knows how, but he didn't say anything to anyone other than House. House would rent a fucking billboard if it meant screwing with someone. And that's what he was doing. Screwing with her.
The overall feelings she was having left her sitting on the verge of tears and edge of anger. She was capable of ripping House a new one, and bawling hysterically while doing so. But she didn't care what she did, just so long as she got House to stop. So she really didn't have a choice, just a course of action.
"What are you talking about?" House asked, still ot focusing on her.
"How many people have you been telling that I'm…" She didn't like to say it aloud. "You've been telling people I'm bisexual."
"Why would you think that?" House was being smug, but still trying to avoid a confrontation.
"Because," Thirteen sighed, "Four people have given me some form of a brush off while implying that it's related to sex." She was fuming. "And you are the only son of bitch I could pin this to!"
"Huh." He turned a key and flicked a chord. "And if I was behind said rumor—"
"You are!"
"If I was, would there be any truth to this lesbionic story?" He finally looked up, just long enough to raise an eyebrow.
She shifted her weight, left to right, and clenched in a Cameron-esce fashion. Huffed, then replied "So what if there is?"
"Well. If there isn't than someone is spreding slanderous rumour that they now know to be false." He had gone back to strumming, "If it is true than your dating prefrance has been advertised and you should be thanking me."
Thirteen growled a bit. "House, how the hell does that seem at all helpful?" she wasn't asking, more yelling, really. Since he was ignoring her, playing with his guitar, she tried to go on. "And even if it is true, you shouldn't tell the whole damn hospital." She was still visibly distraught, and House's continuous disregarding of her presence wasn't helping. "House?"
"Does this" her struck a note "sound like a "D minor" or a..?"
He was cut off by Thirteen reaching across his desk, picking up a pair of wire cutters, and cutting his E-string. "Stop obsessing, House." She set the cutters down. Now she had his attention. "Why did you have to tell everyone that I'm bi? And more importantly, what is it going to take for you to stop."
"I told people because I was bored. I will stop when… I'm not bored." He played his response back to himself and decided that it was acceptable.
"Cut the crap, House." Thirteen was totally pissed. "What do you need me to do? Beg? Cry? I don't know how to work with you unless you'll stop jerking me around like this."
"I'm jerking you around?" House had heard enough, and she cut one of his guitar strings. "How the fuck am I jerking you around when you're the one who keeps baiting me?"
"Baiting you? How the fuck am I baiting you?" Two pissed people should never be left alone. "It's not my fault you play it so I have to respond in order to save face. If you stop putting me in that position I wouldn't need to 'bait' you, you ass!"
"Them there are fighting words. You really don't think I'll stop on my own?" he paused then added "in time, mind you."
"No. It honestly doesn't seem like you will." She wasn't sure where he was heading, but she wouldn't back down.