They sat across from each other at a diner near the park, looking over their menus and not talking. When the waiter came by, House ordered himself a dry Reuben sandwich with no pickle, fries, and a soda. Stacy ordered a chicken salad and iced tea. The waiter took their menus and left them to continue not talking. House lightly gnawed on the inside of his cheek while looking everywhere but at Stacy. He hated any type of social situations, having to pretend to be nice when he just wanted to be at home. He really didn't need or want anything else. Why do I bother? He wondered. She's just gonna think I'm an ass. He had to admit Stacy looked damned good in those paintball-spattered clothes and stole a glance at her, noticing that she was still looking at him.
Stacy continued to look at Greg, wondering how long it was going to take him to say something. After what seemed like days, she'd finally had enough.
"Do you always talk this much?"
"Did you know that the Colymbosathon Ecplecticos has one of the largest penises relative to its size?" House replied.
Stacy stared at him. This is how the man starts a conversation?!
"And I need to know this why?"
House shrugged. "Because it's interesting."
The conversation went downhill from there. The more Stacy tried to engage Greg in casual dialogue in an effort to learn more about him, the more House deflected with his usual sarcasm. By the time they left the diner almost 2 hours later, Stacy was beside herself. She found Gregory House to be frustrating, arrogant, obviously brilliant, and brutally sarcastic. She was surprised to find herself attracted to him even as her brain screamed, He's such an ass! - an effect which left her mentally exhausted from the effort of merely trying to get him to have a conversation with her. I am not doing this again, she thought as they walked to their cars. It's like trying to talk to an 8 year old.
House found himself stealing glances at Stacy as they walked through the parking lot to their respective cars, his hands shoved into his pockets. Yeah. That went well. She looks pissed, he thought. Besides finding her to be incredibly attractive, Stacy was highly intelligent, quick with smart comebacks to virtually every sarcastic comment he made, and her laugh did something to him deep inside. As much as he would have preferred to be at home, he had to admit that he very much enjoyed her company and wondered how he might get her to see him again.
Stacy unlocked her car door and turned to House with her hand extended. "It was nice to meet you, Greg." She kept her voice neutral, making it clear that she wanted nothing more to do with him.
House shook her hand, and found that he really liked the way her firm grip fit into his. "Good to meet you, Stacy." They stood there looking at each other, each waiting for the other to break contact. Finally House pulled his hand away, looking at the ground with a mumbled, "I should go." He turned away and walked the two spaces to his own car, leaving Stacy to wonder when she had ever had such an odd and frustrating encounter with anyone outside of the courtroom.
Later in the day House was in his apartment at the piano, improvising a slow and soulful blues piece while his mind drifted. He couldn't stop thinking about that disastrous lunch with Stacy, continuously second-guessing himself. A persistent knocking sound shook him from his reverie. House crossed the room and opened the door to reveal his best friend, Dr. James Wilson. Wilson had a 6-pack of beer in hand as he entered the apartment and made a beeline for the couch. He dropped onto the cushions and put his feet up on the coffee table, opening a beer and making himself completely at home. House eyed him with a sardonic grin.
"Another fight with Bonnie?"
"She wants us to take a vacation. To Europe. One of those guided tours she read about in a magazine. I tried to explain that working on an Oncology ward doesn't exactly allow for a lot of vacation time, and she told me I'd rather be at work than spending time with her. She's not wrong." Wilson took a swig from his beer and passed a bottle over to House before setting the 6-pack on the coffee table. "Hey," Wilson continued, changing the subject. "Who won the paintball tournament?"
House dropped down on the sofa next to Wilson and opened his beer. He put his feet up on the coffee table next to Wilson's and took a swig before answering.
"We did. The lawyers didn't stand a chance."
"So, the usual then."
"Yeah. Except for the getting shot in the ass part."
"You got shot in the ass?! You never get shot! Do you know who did it?"
"Some chick named Stacy Collins. Maddening woman. A conversation with her is like being interrogated under a microscope."
"You like her." Wilson looked over at House to gauge his reaction. He had known his friend long enough to know that House only talked about women that way when he was interested.
"What's to like? She's a lawyer. She's annoying. Can barely carry on a conversation in a diner. Let herself get shot by someone on her own team. And did I mention she shot me in the ass?"
Wilson chuckled. Yeah, whatever else he might say, House was well and truly taken with this Stacy person.
Miffed, House sat next to Wilson and nursed his beer. He knew that Wilson was not going to leave well enough alone, that he'd keep nagging and asking his stupid questions about a truly enervating woman that House was never going to see again until he was satisfied he knew everything there was to know about her.
As expected, Wilson grilled House about everything from the moment he got shot in the ass to House and Stacy's final handshake at their cars. It was like pulling teeth to get the information, but Wilson was finally satisfied he had a pretty good idea of what happened. Surprisingly, he had an even better idea about Stacy's looks and personality from offhanded comments House made and thought she sounded like someone who could hold her own against the force of nature that was Gregory House.
"So, are you going to see her again?" Wilson asked as innocently as he could manage with a straight face.
House glared at him. He wasn't about to let Wilson know that he had been trying to figure out a way to do just that. "No. She made it pretty clear she doesn't want anything more to do with me."
"And you're okay with that?"
"I'm fine." House was anything but fine and Wilson knew it, but he also knew better than to push once that statement had been made. House was going to chew on their conversation and the events of the day until he came up with a way for him to see Stacy again.
They ordered pizza, watched TV and finished the beer while talking about whatever came to mind at the moment. Working at different hospitals in different cities, they groused about what was going on in their respective departments. House complained about being threatened with yet another malpractice lawsuit, even though he had diagnosed and treated the patient properly. Wilson went on again about Bonnie wanting to go on this vacation to Europe and dreaded having to continue that discussion with her once he got home. House talked excitedly about the monster truck rally he'd watched on TV the night before, and Wilson pretended as always to be just as enthusiastic. The evening went on into the wee hours, until Wilson reluctantly tore himself away from the comfort of House's apartment and headed back to his own where he would have to deal with the wrath of Bonnie.
