There was no need to call the cops in the morning, because while the protestors were still outside the door someone else had obviously got sick of them, too, and given the police station a ring while everyone upstairs was still fast asleep. Consequently, when their doorbell rang and a cop introduced himself from out on the landing they were somewhat perplexed and not at all ready for him. House was making coffee in his boxers and a t-shirt, bits of him still wet from the shower, and Wilson, in pyjama bottoms and a bathrobe, was helping Gina with her hair while she was debating with herself what she wanted for breakfast, pancakes or waffles. Usually they just shouted at people to come in, but right now they hadn't even unlocked the door yet. "Will you go and let him in?" Wilson asked Gina who was the only one in a presentable state of attire, denim dungarees and a stripy little t-shirt. He fixed her second pony tail to the best of his negligible abilities, mumbling something about the collateral Benefits of chemo under his breath, and she went to let the cop in.
"Are you going to send the mean people away?" She asked him before even saying hello. "They're horrible, they gave me a bad dream and they nearly made uncle Greg fall!" House could see the cop smiling at her through the kitchen door. "I first have to find out if they're really the mean ones here, then we might be able to do something about it, ok?" "But they are!" "We'll see..." He was a young guy, mid-twenties maybe, good-looking in that east coast Irish American cop kind of way. "McCarthy", his name badge said, and House found himself disappointed it wasn't Mariano or Goldstein just for a bit of variety. Still, as long as it wasn't Tritter... "Have a seat", Wilson invited him into the kitchen. "Coffee's not ready yet, sorry. We hadn't expected you quite so early." Officer McCarthy sat down. "So you had expected me?" "Well, we were going to call you straight after breakfast, but obviously someone got there earlier. What can we do for you?" The cop cocked an eyebrow, obviously at his slurred speech. "Are you..." "Yes, he's ok and he's stonecold sober!" House hated these inquiries with a passion and didn't care much if his tone offended. Wilson was, as ever, more conciliatory. "I had a brain haemorrhage. Just ignore the slur, and the limp, too I guess. Well," He looked at House. "Both the limps actually." "Ok!" He took a note. "Well, I came here because your neighbours downstairs called me about the people outside creating a disturbance, and according to the people outside you're the real problem, so obviously I have to investigate." Wilson nodded. "They would say that. The Reverend's been at us ever since he moved into the building three years ago. Pamphlets under the door, our friends being preached at in the lobby, that kind of thing." "And why do you think he'd do that?" "Well you HAVE seen their signs, haven't you?" Now it was House's time to cock an eyebrow. "Boy, are these guys not into same-sex relationships!" "And you think that's the only thing that makes them picket your building?" "Yes, for all I can see." Wilson took over again. "It's not like we're particularly provocative about it either. I mean, we're past the age of frenching each other in the elevator." "Are we?" House grinned. "Well, we sure as hell haven't done it in a very long time..." "Hm yeah, guess so. Anyway, officer, I guess the way they're stepping up the campaign might have to do with our granddaughter here. The Reverend was shouting something about us dragging her down to hell yesterday." Gina nodded vigorously. "That was when they nearly made him fall! And anyway, if these people go to heaven I'd rather be in hell with Grampa and uncle Greg, they're much more fun!" The doorbell rang again. "Come in", House shouted, assuming that mad axe-murderers didn't customarily call at half past eight on Saturday morning. Their neighbour across the landing, Mrs. Kaminski, came straight into the kitchen. "James, are these guys for real?" She demanded. "I mean - Jew fag? What?" The coffee was finally done and everyone helped themselves. Wilson smiled wryly. "Seems like they are. It's good to know you're on our side." "Well of course I am. Geez, the Reverend just told me I'd see his point if I just let Jesus into my life!" "Wow, just the thing to tell a Jewish girl." "That's exactly what I said to him. Dunno about you, but so far I've always been perfectly happy being Jewish and have no intention of changing that." "Yeah, right!" "Huh?" House very much begged to disagree "Happy being Jewish, now there's an oxymoron for you." "WHAT?" Wilson nearly spat out his coffee. "Hate to break the news to you, but you people don't do happy as an ethnicity. If you did Woody Allen would have owned a kosher deli." "Speaks Greg House from a perspective of unrivalled expertise." "Yep! I don't need to be a chicken to know if an egg is good, do I? And Jews and happiness just don't go together. I mean, c'mon, after 5000 years of being bullied by an authoritarian bastard of a father figure who gets pissy if you as much as suggest there might actually be a world out there? I only had 18 years of that, with interruptions, and still get nightmares!" "Ah, that's where that came from, I should have known. And then of course 2000 years of guilt-tripping after a guy had himself killed in the most grotesquely painful way possible on your behalf just makes for absolute bliss, doesn't it?" "Well see? That guy was a Jew. There, gotcha, touchdown!"
Gina and officer McCarthy looked at each other, the latter asking her something that sounded suspiciously like "Are they always like that?" Gina shrugged and giggled. "They're nice really. They just don't want anyone to know I think." They all went back to the matter at hand. "So is there any other reason why you think it might have to do with your granddaughter?" "The picket seems timed that way", Wilson suggested. "Gina comes to stay with us every four weeks, so I guess that pattern is easy enough to discern. I'm 100% sure they'll be gone by the time we get back from taking her to school on Monday morning and back in four weeks actually." Mrs Kaminski agreed. "I know the Reverend has always harassed Dr House and Dr Wilson, and the danger he thinks they're putting Gina in seems like a good excuse to go public, doesn't it?" "Would you really call it harassment?" "Yes!" She lowered her voice. "Can we leave the room for a moment?" House's and Wilson's jaws dropped in perfect synchronicity, and House was the first to regain the power of speech. "What are you keeping from us?" She blushed. "Nothing you couldn't guess at anyway I suppose. Signs outside the door I've peeled off mostly. They said things like sodomite's den, and I didn't want you to see them because I felt you really get enough shit from the Reverend as it is." Wilson gave her a warm smile and put his arm around her. "Thanks, Ella, but we can take it. And I bet the sodomites' den one had the apostrophe in the wrong place." She chuckled. "It did, actually." "See? So we could have still felt good about our superior brainpower."
Once again it was up to officer McCarthy to drag the debate back to topic. "So we have leaflets, friends being... Talked to, abusive signs and now the picket. Mrs..." "...Kaminski" "Thanks!" Another note. "Would you have kept any of these signs? It would definitely help your neighbours' case against them." She shook her head. "I don't want stuff like that in the House, so I tore them up and chucked them out straightaway." "Ok, the next time you see one I want you to keep it, alright? See, right now we can't really get these guys because all they're doing is exercise their right to free speech, but if we can prove they've been running a campaign of harassment against your neighbours based on sexual orientation it's a quite a different matter." "We're not gay!" "But..." "Call it queer if you need a label", Wilson suggested. "We both had plenty of straight relationships before we got together, and they seemed pretty real at the time." "It would still stand up as harassment for sexual orientation because you're very obviously not straight in the way your harassers down there would like it to be. Still, this way or the other, I need more proof. Have they done anything but stand there and shout?" "Not got out of the way for an old cripple?" House ventured. "I'd call that common courtesy, but they obviously don't agree." "Hm yes, your granddaughter mentioned something like that. What exactly happened?" "They nearly managed to push me over, that's what happened!" House really really wanted some breakfast now and was not in the mood for stating the obvious contests. Once again Wilson poured oil on the waves. "That walker is not exactly a stage prop, officer. Dr House has severe chronic pain in his right leg and an artificial hip joint that hasn't healed in properly on the left, so he's pretty much dependent on people making way for him because there's not much holding him up." "You wouldn't believe what sheer stubbornness can achieve..." Wilson rolled his eyes. "Fine, apart from sheer stubbornness. Anyway, not getting out of the way for an old man with an obvious mobility impairment does seem to go beyond just standing there and shouting." Gina piped up. "It was like they were trying to topple him, I was really scared." "So what did they do to you to make you scared?" "I wasn't scared for myself, silly! I was scared for uncle Greg!" Wilson seemed to see the need to exercise his grandfatherly authority at this point. "You can't call a policeman silly, Gina. Certainly not when he's trying to help us." "But he IS being silly!" "No, he's just trying to make sure he's getting all the facts down correctly..." Officer McCarthy seemed to take the whole exchange in the right spirit, though. "It's ok, you were only worried about your uncle. You like him a lot, do you?" Gina nodded. "Uncle Greg is great! And Grampa, too, and I don't want anyone to be mean to them!" "That makes perfect sense. Right, I think I've got down everything I need to know. Now, I can't promise you you'll get rid of your visitors today, but I think we have a pretty clear case here that they are the problem and not you." He gave them an encouraging smile, took everyone's details and departed.
Breakfast, finally. Wilson fired up the iron and made enough waffles to feed an army while House made the second pot of coffee of the day and a hot chocolate for Gina. Mrs Kaminski hung around a bit, too: she had just been on her way to get some breakfast when confronted with the throngs of deranged humanity outside the door and was as fond of Wilson's cooking as anyone.
It was weird, if the nutjobs downstairs had the intention of making the freaks upstairs feel bad about themselves they were failing dismally. Being up against something so utterly ludicrous and embarrassing, AND obviously getting back up from people as normal as Mrs. Kaminski or the cop made House feel good about himself and immune, as close to happy as it got with him. Getting ready for the afternoon's outing he donned a T-shirt saying PSYCHIATRIC GERIATRIC in huge letters to let the world know and dragged the wheelchair from the far corner of the closet as his annual sensible decision. His leg was still behaving itself and there was no point in provoking it needlessly by walking around on it for hours - or 15 minutes probably, by which time he'd have to sit down anyway and wait for the rest to finish their merry way around the zoo without him. No, sitting down to start with and probably having Wilson sweat a bit pushing him every now and then when his wrists started protesting was the far more fun option. He gave it a perfunctory dusting with yesterday's left sock before sitting down in it: avoiding a lecture from Wilson about his housekeeping skills was the far more fun option, too.
They met up with Foreman, Jada and baby Nathan outside the gates of what had been animal kingdom the last time House had been there, how ever many decades ago. It had been pretty tiny back then, but by now had grown into a fairly respectable zoo, certainly for anywhere within half an hour's drive from Princeton. Nathan was now homing in on his first birthday and beginning explore the world around him, babbling and crawling and pulling himself up on all things and anything including other people's wobbly legs to stand up and try walking. His grandparents found it well nigh impossible to get him to stay in his stroller, he fidgeted and squirmed and hollered in protest trying to get as close as possible to the animal enclosures and probably inside. "Look at House!" Foreman remonstrated with him. "He's being good and staying in HIS stroller!" "Stroller..." "Well it's the same thing from his point of view, isn't it?" "And I'd be fidgeting and squirming and hollering just as much if YOU had put me into it." "Well we knew that!" Nathan, in the meantime, had actually taken an interest in that big stroller with the big man in it. "Bib dolla!" He gurgled and stretched out his arms towards House. "Bib mam!" "I think he likes you, House..." "Well, there's the first big mistake of his life." "Wow, it's self-awareness day, is it?" Wilson bent down to share a kiss with his favourite mistake. "Actually..." Jada had an idea. "Would you mind holding him on your lap? He really seems to like you and might actually stay in one place for more than five seconds then." House shrugged. "Fine, as long as he doesn't try to sit on the wrong leg..." He reached over to lift Nathan onto his lap. "Come to Uncle Greg, Nat, your Grampa can push." His Grampa had learned that resistance was futile more than thirty years ago and duly started pushing.
Nathan did indeed calm down in House's care - for whichever reason - and they made a happy enough party going around the zoo, with Gina constantly running fifty yards ahead of everyone else and then shuttling back and forth to tell them what next they really, totally, absolutely HAD to look at, and needing the occasional reminder that they were all a LOT older than her and Wilson in particular wasn't as fast as he used to be. For a moment, she looked sad again being reminded of it; she still seemed to have a hard time dealing with what had after all happened in her presence and still sometimes seemed to think she had played a part in it. "I think someone needs a hug and an ice cream." Wilson gave her a smile and led the way to the cafeteria for ice cream, sodas and coffees. Once seated, he took Gina on his lap and gave her a big hug. "Listen", he said. "This is not. Your. Fault. Ok?" "But how can you be so sure?" "House showed you in the book, didn't he? There's far too much protective covering between you and my brain for you to do any damage to it." "Are you sure?" "Absolutely! On the contrary, you probably saved my life because you were there when it happened and did such a great job telling Foreman what you had seen." Foreman nodded vigorously. "If you hadn't done that your Grampa might be dead now, or a vegetable." "A vegetable?" Gina registered astonishment. "Like a... leek?" House dug the mental image for a moment, that leek in a McGill sweatshirt sure looked interesting. He sniggered. "Haw haw, House." Wilson retorted. "A leek in my sweatshirt. Isn't it hilarious?" "Yep, it actually is!" Wow, they could read each other's thoughts now. Scary stuff. He looked at Gina. "No, not like a leek. When doctors say someone's a vegetable it means their brain is so damaged they... don't know they exist anymore. They can't move, can't think, can't interact, they just lie there for the rest of their lives." "Like a leek." "Like a leek. Not long and green, though." Gina giggled. "Ok." She thought for a moment. "And that's what could have happened to Grampa if I hadn't been there?" "There's a fair chance." Wilson pulled her closer to his chest. "So you're my big life-saving heroine, ok? I might not be sitting here now if you hadn't been there." Gina looked very proud now and delightedly accepted a huge cuddle.
Still, with all the bonhomie and the good time he was having, House still couldn't help noticing that Wilson seemed pre-occupied about something. He did his short checkover looks on him that he thought he didn't know about far more often than usual and seemed to keep trying to get sneak peeks at his eyes. When Foreman and Jada had gone to take the short ones to the bathroom he took the opportunity. "Ok, what are you worried about?" "Me? Nothing! Having a great time, actually!" "Wilson, there's a reason why your acting ambitions in high school came to nothing. Just tell me!" "There's nothing to tell, ok?" "Yes there is. And no, my eyes are neither glazed nor are my pupils any size they shouldn't be. I'm stone cold sober. I have been for the past ten years. I have no intention to ever take narcotics of any kind again. They'd kill me, for fuck's sake!" "And what would you care? You might have been sober for the past ten years, but you've been ready to go for more than 40!" Oh shit... Of all the times he could have picked for a meltdown Wilson had to settle for this one? House couldn't help but gasp. Wilson had been scared he might deliberately try to top himself - as opposed to accidentally overdosing, experimentally electrocuting himself to see what it would feel like or risk having his brain fried for diagnostic purposes - for more than 40 years? Holy crap... The sarcastic retort he'd had ready died on his lips. Locking his reason for living in a tight embrace almost came naturally. He knocked his coffee over in the process but didn't care shit. Wilson returned the embrace and he could feel a tear or two on his shoulder. He gently moved his hands up and down his back. "I'm not ready to go, I promise." He found that he was talking in a low murmur, soothingly, and he meant it, too. "I never have been, idiot. I'd miss you too much." Wilson chuckled softly. "So you think you'd actually go somewhere where you could miss me?" "Not really, but being with you is sure as hell better than being without you and I want to get as much of it as I possibly can. As long as you're alive, I want to be, too, ok?" He could feel Wilson's embrace tightening around him and savoured it. "I think that might be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me" A voice murmured somewhere near his neck. "You're welcome! Just don't get too used to it, cos you're gonna be disappointed." Wilson chuckled again. "That's better... I thought you'd gone weird there for a moment." "Uhu... I was beginning to scare myself actually. And the next time you have a serious concern about me, kindly take less than 40 years to tell, asshole!" "Ok..." "Honestly, PLEASE stop trying to protect me all the time, there's no point. I always find out anyway, ok? And I'm tougher than you think, or I WOULD have topped myself a couple of decades ago. You've gotta be tough to survive being in pain 24/7." Wilson nodded. "Makes sense... So..." "I'm just having a really good day, ok? Let's enjoy it while it lasts, cos the crash is gonna be hard." Suddenly they seemed to feel a gaze on them simultaneously and broke apart. The others had obviously been back for a while. "So... You've seen... how much of this performance?" Foreman smiled. "Not much I think. And it seems to have done you good, you look a lot more relaxed now." Wilson nodded. "I am. Are we going to see the bonobos?"
With all the new people and things to see, Nathan had gone calm and sleepy and Foreman bustled him back into the stroller where he fell asleep almost immediately. He then handed House his backpack to get out the wheelchair mitts. "Exercise time, House, I need to look after my grandson." "Jada could do that", House sulked. "If you ever really need her help I'm sure she'll be there for you. And now get going and wheel your own ass around!" "What a way to talk to your old boss..." "Yep, OLD boss!" "Chase would have started pushing already." "Oh my God, Wilson! You gotta take him to Mayfield again! He thinks I'm a white Australian lick-spittle!" Wilson was grinning from ear to ear. Actually, even Gina was grinning from ear to ear. Oh great, he was about to have the piss taken out of him by a seven-year-old. House rolled his eyes and pulled on the mitts.
Gina ran ahead again and almost immediately came back with eyes the size of saucers. "Grampa, Uncle Greg, you've got to see these monkeys up ahead! They're... They're..." She shook her head in amazement and tried to pull Wilson along with her. "Easy, I'm sure they're not gonna run away" He smiled. "But I might trip and break something and not be able to make you pizza for months." "Oh..." She slowed down for a moment, before he amazement carried her away again. About 100 yards ahead she stopped and waved. "Here! Look! They're..." "They're making out", House dryly observed when the rest of them arrived at the enclosure. "And they're apes, not monkeys." The bonobos were indeed happily occupied with what they were best at, slobbering each other off, penis fencing, penetrating each other left, right and centre and generally having the kind of good time that members of allegedly more advanced species usually had to go to Vegas to get. "They're what?" "They're having sex. It's the way they socialise." "You mean they're making babies?" "Hm yeah, kind of. Though I think they're more doing this for fun." "For fun? EW!" "You'll learn to enjoy it when you're older, believe me." Wilson was watching two males jerking each other off and flashed a grin at House. "Who said that was unnatural again?" "Not me..." "Maybe we should bring the Reverend and his little play friends here?" "They'd say all bonobos are possessed by the devil and sue the zoo for corrupting innocent children." "The Reverend? Your neighbour? What's he done now?" Foreman knew they weren't exactly high up on the Reverend's Christmas card list. "You'll see when we get there", House said darkly. He didn't want thoughts of the picket to intrude in the afternoon's pleasure. "Well, they might already be gone when we get home", Wilson suggested a tad overoptimistic. "Yeah, right!" Gina was too busy having the intricacies of bonobo family life explained to her by Jada to pay the conversation any heed. Thank goodness, too. House really didn't want to discuss the matter right here, right now.
Still, he hadn't realised how soon he would have to discuss the matter anyway - with the perpetrators. They had obviously posted a look-out on the corner, and by the time Wilson was about to pull the Volvo back into its accustomed space outside their apartment building it had been taken. Alright, so it wasn't unusual to see perfectly able-bodied people occupying the cripple space, but they usually did it by parking a car there. Those guys had chosen to stage a sit-in instead. House closed his eyes and opened them again. Still the same. "Wilson, pinch me!" Wilson pinched. Still the same. House blinked again. "Wilson, what are you seeing there?" "About a dozen religious nutjobs staging a sit-in in our parking space." "So I'm not ready for Mayfield again." "Well, not in that way at any rate." House leant out of the window. "Alright, boys and girls, the head-cripple is back, so everyone who doesn't have a handicap plate on their ass, go home to Mom now and have your milk and cookies! I wanna get upstairs and get a beer from the fridge!" They didn't move. Foreman and Jada were coming up the street with Nathan in his stroller and House was treated to seeing their jaws drop in perfect synchronicity. Foreman came over and stuck his head into the window. "Who are these people?" "Just your brothers in Christ making their point about same sex relationships. I think they might not like the idea." Foreman rolled his eyes at the jibe. "Just make for pulling in carefully, Wilson", he suggested. "They'll have to move eventually to get away." "And give them the chance to find a lawyer who construes that as aggression? No way in hell! I'm parking up the road!" House couldn't say much against that, he didn't have to walk it today after all, and so Wilson found them a space 50 yards away.
By the time they got back to the entrance, Foreman was inquiring from the Reverend which version of the bible exactly he had got his ideas from because it couldn't be the one featuring Jesus. "The lord said not to lie with a man as with a woman." "Y'know, I don't think they do. It involves different orifices. And if I remember correctly the lord also preached tolerance and respect. That was in season two, though, you might have missed that. Look, just leave two old men alone! They've done more good for the human race in their wretched, sinful lives than you ever will." "I would if they didn't extend their bad influence to everyone in the house and an innocent child." "Which bad influence exactly?" "Secularism, atheism, sodomy, tolerance of sin..." Foreman looked up at the placard saying Jew fag: "You know what? Jesus was a Jew who chose to spend his time with cripples and sinners. I think I'm a pretty good company with these two." "There will be a time when you hear the message of the lord but by then it may be too late for you." "I heard the message of the lord before you were even born, and it spoke of love. And now pack up and go home, before he cops get serious with you." The Reverend obviously made an effort to give a dignified reply. "Should the police try to remove us we will resist peacefully and continue to make our point." "Wow..." Foreman was obviously dumbstruck. House and Wilson looked at each other, and House found his speech again first. "It's civil disobedience, Jim, but not as we know it."
They went through the crowd in single file, Wilson pushing the wheelchair because it gave him more support than the cane, should the pushing and shoving business start again. When they finally got to the safe haven of the apartment they were out of breath. Wilson almost slipped on the message that had been slipped under the door and groaned. "Can't he even leave them when he's out on the sidewalk annoying most of Princeton?" Foreman picked it up. "I don't think it's one of his." He passed it to Wilson. "Here, have a look." House and Wilson read it on the sofa.
"Just to let you know I've contacted the rental agency and if I have anything to do with it the Reverend will be out on his ear. Don't let this get you down, we're all on your side.
All the best,
Tom Garrison"
Wilson smiled. "That's good of him." "And totally pointless." "Still good of him. And I don't think pointless, either. As the janitor he has a lot more say who can rent here and who can't than the rest of us." "I hope you're right. Foreman, get your old boss and his special friend a beer from the fridge! And if you ask nicely you can get yourself one, too." Foreman, however, turned out of be very busy with Nathan all of a sudden, so Jada answered for him. "I think Eric and me are both more in a wine frame of mind, mind if we open a bottle?" Wilson pointed vaguely towards the kitchen. "There's a pretty good Merlot in the cupboard above the fridge, help yourselves!" "Grampa, is there pineapple juice in the fridge?" "There always is when you come. You can help Jada with all the drinks, and I'm sure she'll pour you one then." "Of course I will, honey. And if you want you can help with Nathan later, too." "Really?" Gina was delighted. "Thank you!" "What are you thanking me for, I'll have less work of it after all" Jada winked. But Gina had already run out of the kitchen to watch the fascinating process of Nathan being changed.
Eventually they all settled down around the coffee table and discussed the obvious choice of topic. "So how do you think you'll get rid of these guys?" "THESE GUYS?" House raised his eye-brows. "You'll want to give your brothers in faith a bit more respect than that!" "You needed that, didn't you?" "Just making a point that might actually be important here. They essentially believe in the same stuff as you." "If by 'the same stuff' you mean a triune good who sacrificed himself on the cross for the good of the humane race and redemption of the morally good, yes. If you mean their definition of 'morally good', no. And you fucking well know that!" "That's not up for debate! What's up for debate is that you believe in an ideology that makes both ideas of what is morally good perfectly justified!" Foreman rolled his eyes. "And which ideology doesn't? I hear the Nazis weren't one bit into Christianity. Listen, House, it's not about ideology and beliefs, it's about being a decent person or being an asshole." "And what defines that, if not your belief system? Their belief system tells them I'm an asshole. Well, I am, but not the way they think. My belief system tells me they're assholes." "Anyone feel like cooking dinner?" Wilson exchanged a wry grin with Jada and Gina and the three of them retired to the kitchen, leaving little Nathan to get his first taste of pointless ideological debate.
Two large portions of coq au vin, a generous half a bottle of vin sans coq and any amount of cock jokes later, House was in a much more conciliatory mood and actually ready to discuss God's own headcases in a pragmatic way. "The Garrisons got the cops in this morning, only of course they can't do anything as long as our friends there just hang around and don't do anything aggressive. You gotta love freedom of speech..." "What does freedom of speech mean?" "It means that any old asshole can say about me and your Grampa whatever the hell they like in whichever place they want to and will probably get away with it as long as they don't accuse me of breaking the law." "Wow, that'll really teach her to appreciate the first amendment..." "Fuck the first amendment!" Wilson shrugged. "It's an opinion I guess..." "Seriously, fuck it! It's just another excuse for people to act like assholes!" "Like every other belief system." "Right, get yourself a lollypop, Foreman, you win..." "Anyway", Wilson brought the conversation back to topic. "The cops came and talked to them, and were of course told we're the problem, so one of them came up to us and left with the impression that we're not." "We hope..." House suddenly realised they were holding hands. "Yes, we hope. But it's pretty realistic I think. Ella from across the landing came in and told him a couple of things about the Reverend's behaviour we hadn't even been aware of, so I guess that might help." "And why the hell did he choose this point in time to start his little campaign after three years of annoying you without involving the entire neighbourhood?" Wilson shrugged. "My guess is that it's got to do with Gina." "So will they stay away and leave you alone if I stop coming? Cos then I will..." Gina looked sad and concerned. "You most certainly will NOT!" Wilson was uncharacteristically passionate. "We'll fight this, and you come here for as long and as often as you want! Just don't listen to anything they tell you, ok?" She nodded. "Ok!" "Their excuse seems to be that they have to protect her from our evil influence. Basically, I bet anything they'll be gone on Monday morning and back in four weeks." Foreman nodded. "Why stop Rachel in the lobby and have a discreet chat with her the next time she comes if they can be a public nuisance instead?" "Exactly!" "Well, fingers crossed here the cops will find a way of getting rid of them for you. Have they done anything that wouldn't be covered by the first amendment yet?" "Nearly shoved me over yesterday. But it would take a pretty good lawyer to make the way they did it a steadfast case of threatening behaviour." "Yeah well, they're not stupid..." "Yes they ARE!" "Ok, they are. But cunning with it..." "HENRY!" House shoved the cat off the table in the last moment, he had been just about to try the leftovers. "Aw, can't he have any?" Wilson pulled some meat off the chicken carcass. "Here, you can feed him that." "And then you can help me take Nathan to bed. Do you want to?" Jada gestured towards Nathan in his highchair who was getting very drowsy indeed. "Oh yes!" "Off you go then! And then maybe..." "No, I'm NOT tired!" "We'll see about that." Wilson left her to it.
But actually no one stayed awake much longer; they'd all had a long day and after bidding their good-byes to the assembled Foremans and bungling Gina into bed - who fell asleep the moment she hit the pillow - House and Wilson shared out the leftovers of the wine out between them and then retired bedwards themselves. Wilson put on Neil Young on a low volume, harvest moon. It just seemed like that kind of night. Wilson smiled. "Nice to think they're cold and tired out there, isn't it?" "Just as long as they get cold and tired enough to catch pneumonia and die..." "Only they wouldn't." "Wouldn't what?" "Die if they caught pneumonia. They could come up and we'd have to help them." "Fine, I'll tell them all they have terminal cancer. You can prescribe the pointless meds. Got something nice and puke-inducing?" "And then they'll find out we were lying and sue our pants off." "Who cares, I'll have had my fun." "And will fly cattle class for the rest of your life after the pay-out." "Ok, point taken." They didn't even fly much these days, but House still liked being able to afford things like flat seats and sufficient legroom when they did. He sighed. "I wish I could hurt them..." "They're not hurting you, are they?" "Course not, duh!" But Wilson didn't seem to believe him, there was doubt in his eyes. Soon they drifted off to sleep.
House woke up, he didn't know how much later. All he knew was that the feeling in bad leg had nothing to do with Wilson feeling sexy this time. It was tingling and burning, and a throb was building up in the background. He grabbed for his painkillers in the dark but they weren't in their usual place on the nightstand. Oh great, the cleaner had tidied them away again. He had lost count of the times they'd both told her not to. The last time she had put them in the drawer right underneath, hadn't she? House tested that theory, but no such luck this time. He grabbed around the open shelf at the bottom. Two books, yesterday's paper, a dirty mug... No tablets. Fuck... In the mean time his thigh was beginning to feel like someone was running a hammer drill through it. He groaned slightly louder than the pain dictated to wake Wilson without making it seem deliberate. Thank goodness Wilson was used to being risen that way. "How bad is it?" "Unbearable in 30, 29, 28..." "Ok, ok..." Wilson got up. "Do you think there are some in the bathroom cabinet?" "Should be..." He was beginning to sweat; this was bad. It seemed like hours till Wilson came back with the tablets and a glass of bourbon to help them down. "You shouldn't really, but..." That gesture of love made House smile despite the pain. "Thanks!" He planted a kiss of Wilson's cheek and gulped down the lot. "And now for waiting..." House turned onto his back and folded his arms behind his head, he was expecting to lie awake for at least half an hour before the meds would kick in. "You're welcome." Wilson lay down in bed again, obviously lowering himself down as gently as he could. Seeing him go to such lengths to avoid causing him further pain made House feel sad for a moment. "Just crash down, you sissy! It hardly matters now, does it?" "Guess so." Wilson came closer and put his arms around House from behind. They were spooning. "That ok with you?" House didn't answer, just snuggled himself into that warm, reassuring body behind him. He felt Wilson's thick hair on his neck and his little paunch in the small of his back. There was warmth and compassion emanating from him. "I love you." House meant it from the bottom of his heart. Almost immediately the pain seemed more bearable as his body started to relax. As long as Wilson was standing between himself and the world out there House knew he was going to be fine.
