"Nolan," he said under his breath after the pills went down. It might have been a curse. It could have been a prayer. House refused to dwell on why he did certain things. It didn't feel good to think and he was on a mission to give himself pleasure any way he could. He swallowed against the aftertaste, which was as unpleasant as he remembered. Acrid, harsh and biting. But in a few moments, when the bliss hit him hard, it was difficult to remember why he had wanted to stop using in the first place.
One palm pressed against the wall, the other against the tile as he pushed himself up off the bathroom floor and stumbled to his feet. After gaining his balance, he swayed slightly, one hip bumping the toilet tank as he stared into the tub. He drifted a bit as his lips parted into a slow grin. Cuddy was in the bath, slick, soap fragrant and glowing from the heat.
"No, she's not, Greg."
"Nolan?" He swerved round and met the therapist's dark, probing gaze.
"Greg?" The therapist gave him a small grin and a curt nod.
"What are you doing here?"
"You need me. I came."
"I don't. Need you."
Nolan sat on closed lid of the toilet, hands loose in his lap. "Anything you'd like to talk about?"
"Not to you."
"Then who?"
Wilson came immediately to mind but...no. House didn't want an intervention; he wanted to feel good. Failing to come up with any other reasonable response, he stated a fact. "It started after the crane collapsed. After my patient died."
"What did?"
"Me and Cuddy doing the deed. Really. I. Hit. That!" With a heft of his chin, he indicated the object of his ardor languishing in the tub. "That!" His voice was way too loud, bouncing off the porcelain and tile but he liked the sound of it. "She left me but not before I nailed her more times than you'd think possible". He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. "She wanted it and I rose to the occasion." He snickered. "Every time."
"I see. So it was just sex."
Cuddy In The Tub threw House a look. His smile faded but the corners of his lips twitched when he remembered he was free again. Free. He blinked and Cuddy was gone.
"It's never just anything," House said.
"So what was it?"
"I'm free. What does it matter?
"You were always free, Greg."
Not like this...
Actions spoke louder. Time to put up or shut up. "I'll prove that I am now truly a free man," he said, ambling into the living room, "Looky, looky what we have here." Like a carnival barker displaying his wares to the rubes, he bowed slightly, extending one hand toward the laptop sitting at the ready on the coffee table. He smiled at the silence, knowing Nolan was taking everything in, allowing House to peel back a few more of those psychic layers.
Yes, of course!
But soon Nolan would stick him with one prying question after another to make House feel like, well, maybe this former inhabitant of a psych ward wasn't such a genius after all. Of course, House was not about to admit such a blatant insecurity to Nolan. The few times he did was because he had to. Anything to get out of that hole they'd put him in. That was a bi-ig mistake letting Wilson take him to the asylum. See where it got him?
"Back to square one," House said aloud.
That's your choice. Nobody else's.
"Smarmy, know-it-all bastard". House sat on the sofa and let the room settle around him like a down quilt. Dust motes drifted over two half-full scotch bottles and three amber Vicodin vials waiting for him beside the computer. These were his pals, his good buddies who would see him through anything. Why else would he run back to them time and time again?
"I need some serious fun in my life, Nolan." He ran his finger over the trackpad and the screen came to life. Before opening the browser, he lifted the mouth of one of the scotch bottles to his lips and took three long pulls.
"You'll kill yourself, you know. All that time you put in is going to waste."
House squinted at Nolan who was becoming more annoying by the minute. "I'm trying to plan this right." He set the bottle down on the table with the utmost care. "It's ve-r-r-y important. And you are not helping."
Silence again. Well, fuck that. If Nolan didn't have anything productive to contribute he could stay mute forever. "Time's a-wastin'. Got a suitcase full of cash and it needs to get put to good use."
Marissa's Escorts. On the screen, the familiar magenta letters waggled before him like hula hula dancers. "I haven't been here for...like...ever." A light giggle escaped him as he clicked on the entrance to the site. "You think they missed me, Nolan?"
"Your money could be better spent on more worthwhile pursuits."
"What, like another stay at your hospitable haven?" He shook his head, his eyes never leaving the screen. "That would sure as hell make your day, wouldn't it?"
He typed his password (gr8ballzofF1re) into the special secret login for platinum members and a scarlet curtain parted revealing a bevy of beauties. "Woah, new blood." The five women on the screen wore nothing except smiles and the occasional pair of stiletto heels (fiercer than Cuddy would ever think to set her tootsies in). They strutted their stuff to a jazz-pop motif, ample behinds writhing, 38-Ds jiggling. "There's one for you, Nolan."the negress, the woman of the darker persuasion". As if she could hear, the woman pursed her full purple-pink lips and blew a kiss toward the camera. "Whaddya say, Nolan? My treat."
Silence.
"Good for what ails you." House looked over the bounty. If he was going to have a party he needed an able partner. He rubbed his stubble with two fingers. Names appeared above each possibility. She would have to be deserving. Who would be his queen for the five days of luxurious debauchery he had planned? Would it be Dolora, the feisty looking redhead with the baby blue eyes and impossibly huge nips? Or how about Mitsuki, the exotic looking Asian with the glowing smile and a tongue that showed much promise. Or-
"Pick one for me, Nolan." He turned to the therapist, but he, like Cuddy, had vanished.
"Shit." House glared at the empty space, then reached for the bottle again. But his hand had a mind of his own, shifting a few inches to the right and grabbing a pill vial instead. He could deal with that."Good for what ails you." He flicked off the cap, tilted two pills into his waiting palm and dry swallowed. Just like old times.
The girls were still dancing, although Dolora and Mitsuki had discovered each other and were now in a clinch. He watched them for a long time. Dolora didn't look anything like Cuddy, did she? Mitsuki had the same dark hair but that was where the similarities ended. The others were either taller or more voluptuous or fair skinned.
He would take them all. One for each day of his hotel stay. "One a day, like the vitamin." This particular idea was funny enough to make him guffaw. Leaning over, he laughed until his breaths were silent wheezes and tears stung his eyes. When he managed to compose himself, his typed in his order. A tinkly sound told him the his credit card was approved and his order confirmed.
"Nolan." He whispered as the booze and pills continued to work their magic. "To hell with you." The scotch bottles shimmered; the vials seemed to breathe in the stillness.
It was good to be in the company of friends.