A/N: Sorry. I guess I thought this would make sense without me explaining, but I don't think it did. What I'm doing is two parallel storylines, where similar things happen, but there are some things that are very different – e.g. Jess is pregnant in one story line and not in the other. This chapter goes back to the first story, following on from Chapter 1.

I understand that this is quite different to my usual stuff, but I wrote it to kind of test myself, to see if I could do it more than anything. Maybe I've succeeded, maybe I haven't. I wasn't going to post any more, but some people have put alerts and left nice reviews, so for you guys I'll continue with the rest of the story. Besides, I hate it when people leave unfinished fics. :-) If you don't like it, I perfectly understand and you can look forward to my next fic which is on the way and is more of romance in the style of Change of Heart. It will be coming in the next couple of weeks. Thanks! G.


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House loved Charlies' steak and Jess's possible iron deficiency was as good an excuse as any to chow down on enough expensive protein in one sitting to last a week.

They'd both had huge meals and Jess was just stealing some of his key lime pie – being too full to order her own dessert didn't seem to stop her from stealing half of his – when his cell phone rang. He answered it and rapped her smartly across the knuckles with his spoon at the same time.

The simultaneous loud "Ouch!" from Jess and his own curt "House" obviously confused the person on the other end of the call.

"Hello? House? Is that you?"

"Yes, Wilson," he sighed and made a face at Jess. He wondered if Wilson was having another one of those Saturday nights; the ones where he missed Amber and needed company. Most times it was fine, but tonight House wanted it to be just him and Jess. They'd barely seen each other all week and he still hadn't had enough of her body, her luscious lips, soft hair, gentle hands and slick, velvety…

Just as he was thinking erotic thoughts Jess stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation for the smack and rubbed her bruised knuckle with an exaggerated pout.

He couldn't help the genuine smile that lit his face in response. He never thought he'd have genuine, ridiculous, intimate fun like this ever again in his life.

"—so what do you think?" Wilson asked.

House shook his head and looked away from Jess, realising he hadn't heard a word Wilson had said.

"Sorry, bad line. Say that again?"

Wilson repeated himself, stats about a patient, a weird test result that could be nothing, but might not be either. What did House think?

"I think I need to see it," House said. His pronoun choice was purposeful; he meant the test result, not the patient. There could be something – something small – that Wilson had missed. It would only take a minute. "I'm on my way home. I'll drop by on the way past."

Wilson's gratitude was a little embarrassing, House thought as he hung up the phone. And the fact that he was in the hospital on Saturday evening instead of delegating to one of his underlings was a bit pathetic too. He felt sorry for his friend and made a mental note to invite him over to watch a game soon.

They got the bill – Jess paid, as he'd requested – and then stopped by the hospital. For the first time House invited Jess to come inside with him. Given they were on the bike it was pushing even his bad manners to leave her sitting outside in the cold. And, he figured with a mental shrug, if there was a chance she was going to start working there, it was probably good for her to get a feel for the place.

They went straight to his office and, as if Wilson had a sixth sense for the lights being turned on, his head popped around the office door not a minute later.

House was engaged with the test results Wilson handed him, but he also had one eye on Jess. He realised this was the first time she'd ever been in his office and seeing her sitting there at his desk was uncomfortably incongruent, a blending of the personal and professional that he strove to keep separate.

She sat in his desk chair, spinning back and forward slowly like a bored child, flicking herself in the chair with a gentle push against the desk with her foot. She looked for all the world like a thirty-eight year old teenager and House half expected her to blow a big, pink bubblegum bubble. She pulled her hair together in a bunch and stretched her arms, her breasts thrust forward, and then House had to turn all his attention back to the test results or else Wilson was going to have to repeat himself all over again.

"Does he have a rash?" House asked.

"I don't know. Should he?"

House gave him a doubtful look. "Not if it's just cancer, no. But if it's something else, then a rash might mean something."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jess rise from the desk.

"Greg?" she interrupted the two men gently. "I think I'm gonna grab a cab and go home. You might be a while here."

He nodded and sighed, silently cursing Wilson and cursing himself for answering the phone in the first place.

"You take the bike," he said, fishing the keys out of his pocket and tossing them over to her. "I'll get Wilson to drive me home. It's the least he can do."

She caught the keys deftly and then clapped her hands together. "Yey! I get to ride the bike!"

She grabbed her purse and stood, walking over to him. She put a hand on his cheek and raised herself on tiptoes to press a light kiss to his lips, obviously cognisant of Wilson's proximity. House was annoyed that his weekend had been interrupted this way, and if a kiss was all he was going to get that night, then it was going to be a good one. Ignoring Wilson and any rules around the decency of public displays of affection, he wrapped his arms around Jess, pulled her body into his and heard her sigh as her lips parted and her hand went around the back of his neck to pull herself closer.

The kiss went on for a long moment, both of them seeming reluctant to end it. But eventually they each needed to breathe. They stood, foreheads touching and eyes closed, each sharing the other's breath for a minute. He stroked a hand through her dark, silky curtain of hair. Then Jess stood back, gave him a sexy smile, and walked out.

"Make sure your foot doesn't rest against the brake!" he yelled after her. "And it has enough scratches on it – don't add any more!"

She waved the keys in the air in response to his half-concern-half-warning without turning back, heading straight for the elevators.

House groaned and turned to Wilson. "You'd better be billing this patient big time, because you owe me a bottle of Lagavulin for this."

Wilson cleared his throat and looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Um, yeah."

"Oh for God's sake Wilson." House rolled his eyes. "If a kiss is enough to get you all hot and bothered, you haven't been watching enough porn. Go. Check if he has a rash and then come back and we'll compare notes. In the meantime I'll review the rest of the chart."

House pulled the manila envelope from Wilson's grasp and turned back to his desk as Wilson headed off to do his bidding, no further mention of the kiss.

House quickly scanned the chart, but the very ordinary case of lung cancer was nowhere near interesting enough to keep him focused. Instead he mentally began reviewing the last six months that had lead to this point. He remembered exactly when it had started. On that damn bus.

His memory of events immediately after the bus crash was still fuzzy and patched. Some things he remembered clearly, others were like a perished old film. Unfortunately, even now, some things he wasn't even sure were real. Some he knew weren't. And for some reason, those were the memories that were clearest.

Like sitting on the bus with Amber when she told him he wasn't dead yet. And his confession to her.

I don't want to be miserable.

It was as if the universe had simply been waiting for him to say those words. To admit out loud that he no longer wanted to punish and be punished for whatever crimes he felt required it.

Sure, it had taken time and perseverance, but he'd mended bridges with Wilson. Hadn't been sure it would be possible, and at first it hadn't seemed likely, but time and Wilson's need to be needed – and House's need for Wilson – had won out. Theirs was a perfectly balanced equation that neither of them really had full control of.

Then there'd been the infectious diseases conference Cuddy had forced him to go to – telling him that a trip somewhere sunny would be good for him. He wasn't sure if LA was his idea of a desirable holiday destination, but he'd gone without protesting too much. That was where he'd met Jessica Mitchell, keynote speaker and head of PR and media relations at St Mary's General. Her talk was on managing public interest during an epidemic within the hospital and it had been witty, astute and keenly observed. House had managed to limit himself to two impertinent questions and she'd sought him out afterwards.

House didn't believe in love at first sight, but he did believe in lust at first sight that grew and morphed into something more. That was what had happened with Stacy, after all. Neither he nor Jess saw any further sessions for the rest of the conference and they flew back to the east coast together, causing at least two complaints from fellow passengers along the way. House smiled at the memory.

Since then she'd practically moved in. They hung out together, played together, slept together. Because of her job, she understood his work without needing to be told. And he understood the demands of her career and a schedule even more erratic than his own.

To top it off, then there'd been the new pain specialist who'd joined Princeton Plainsboro and, for the first time in forever, House felt willing to try something new, to see if someone might be able to help. If for no other reason than to improve his stamina in the bedroom. And – wonder of wonders – with a new regime of pills and some physical therapy that he attended with gritted teeth, House wasn't in quite so much pain anymore.

In recent weeks he'd started to get nervous. Life – his life – wasn't supposed to be like this. Easy. Happy. Contented. He just knew something was going to come along and mess it up.

He just hoped this time it wouldn't be him.