A/N: Here's another chapter. Thanks so much for my first review!! I don't know if I'm happy with the way this story is going. I'm sort of writing it as the ideas come into my head. I'm on spring break now so I'm going to go back over this and maybe rewrite it. Let me know if you like it this way or if you think it should change! Thanks!

No Flashbacks in this chapter but don't worry. Our favorite irate doctor still makes an appearance.

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.

"Rita? Are you coming to lunch or what?" Jack, one of the other virologists, stuck his head into my office and gave me a worried look. Jack was one of those sensitive guys; I guess another word for it is gay. He was great though and, as the only other American in the team of researchers here, he gave me a tiny piece of home to hold on to.

"I just got done dissecting a dead monkey and you're asking me out to lunch? How long have you been doing this job?" I turned away from my computer to look at him, the report could wait, "Is there an ulterior motive here?"

"You've been sad. You need some time away from the bio-hazard. We should go on a trip, you know, sight see a little." Jack leaned against the doorjamb and gave me a pleading look. Who can resist that?

"Fine, I'll go to lunch with you. We'll discuss sightseeing later. We have a lot of work to do here." I pushed back my chair and grabbed my coat, ready to fight the cold rain and wind that never seemed to stop.

We got outside and walked over to a tiny restaurant about a block from the lab. Jack held the door open for me and I walked into the warm room. I picked a table and sat down, not even looking at the menu. I started to relax as I surveyed the room.

"Do you know what you want?" Jack was glancing at the menu, he could speak German.

"Some sort of soup, something that isn't nasty, and a grilled cheese." I didn't make any effort to look at him. I was watching the rain come down in sheets outside. The waitress came over and took our order. Jack did all the ordering, as usual. I had meant to learn German when I'd signed up to go here but I was never motivated.

"Boy Rita, you are in some sort of funk." Jack was putting sugar in his coffee. When had the waitress brought us coffee?

"I guess I just miss home a lot. I left some loose ends and it's been bothering me a lot lately." That was an understatement. Angry abusive boyfriend and dying sister fit the bill better.

"I thought the whole idea of coming here was to escape the average American hospital for a while. Come on Rita, I know where you were working before you came here. Los Angeles General is not something I think you want to go back to." Jack stirred his coffee and took a sip, eying me carefully.

"You're right. I don't want to go back to L.A. but lately, that's the best job I can get; ever since that incident with the Dean of Medicine at Berkley. I haven't been able to shake that." I scowled down at my own coffee, remembering the looks on the faces of the board after I'd lost my temper. Looking back, I'm pretty sure that move was made in a moment of weakness.

"What did you do to the Dean at Berkley?" Oh good, Jack was sticking his nose in my past again.

"I mouthed off after he cut my funding. He accused me of spending more money than I had and I told him to stuff it." I was surprised my coffee wasn't boiling yet, I was staring at it so hard.

"Wow, Rita. If you have any flaws, it's that. You don't know when to shut up." Jack laughed and I moved my scowl from the coffee to him. How dare he laugh at me! He's younger than I am!

"Oh? It's that noticeable, huh?" The waitress picked this moment to bring us our food. Completely ignoring me, she tried to flirt with Jack. I stifled a laugh, knowing that it wouldn't end well for our waitress.

The rest of lunch went on in relative silence. That's something I like about Jack, he can push your buttons but he knows when enough is enough. Maybe he was right. Maybe I didn't know where to draw the line like he did.

As soon as we made it back to the lab I headed for my office. Jack let me go, knowing that I was still brooding about those loose ends. I ran into Ana, our resident Spaniard, and she handed me a pink slip and grinned at me, "It was some rough American man. He wanted me to give him your cell phone number and got angry when I wouldn't. It sounded urgent."

"Thanks Ana. I'll check it out." I took the slip and headed back to my office. At last, I could get some paperwork done in relative peace. Laying the pink slip down on my desk, I didn't even give it a passing glance as I turned on my laptop and got back to work.

It wasn't until three hours later when I realized I'd forgotten to call the "rough American man" back. I glanced down at the name and felt all the blood rush to my face. What did he want? Five minutes later I realized I was staring at the piece of pink paper in my hand, expecting an answer. I looked at my clock and sighed, it was late in America. The call would have to wait.

I did my paperwork and, just as I was finishing up, my phone rang. I couldn't imagine who would be calling me, but I answered anyway.

"Dr. Johnson."

"Is this Dr. Rita Johnson?" Okay, the voice was familiar, and male, and American. I knew this person but clearly I hadn't heard their voice in a long time.

"Yes it is. Can I help you?" I was confused, honestly. Who would be calling me from America at this time of night?

"You don't recognize my voice? I'm upset. I thought all that time we spent talking would have made my voice impossible for you to forget. We wouldn't have spent all that time together if it wasn't for those awesome chocolate chip cookies your sister always made."

"Greg?" I could feel my heart in my throat and I had to clear it before I could say his name. It hurt to say it.

"Absolutely, Rita May." He sounded amused.

"Why are you calling me?" Just breathe. Focus on breathing, and blinking. Breathing and blinking.

"You didn't call me back. Someone has to lecture you for being irresponsible." Finally, I could respond without worrying about a self-inflicted heart attack.

"Irresponsible? Why'd you call me the first time?" That was better than the grunt I had planned.

"I need you to fly to Princeton, tomorrow." Suddenly he was serious and I found myself leaning forward, as if he was in the room with me and we were having a serious discussion.

"What's going on?"

"I'm getting married."

"What? What!" I had to say it twice before it hit me. He was what?

"I'm kidding Johnson, take a joke." I knew how I was to respond.

"I'll take a joke if you'll get a clue." I was a tradition. He'd say one thing and I'd say another. If I didn't say my line he'd point it out. I heard him laugh on the other end and then he sighed.

"I'm going to say something that I've only said to you twice since we met." Was he apologizing for something?

"I'm listening." I couldn't think of anything else to say. I was barely coming to terms with the fact that I was talking to Gregory House, let alone coming up with any witty comebacks. He was just as witty as ever though.

There was a long silence and I thought maybe we'd lost the connection and then I heard him take a deep breath, "I need your help."

Oh, he was right. He had only said this twice since we'd met. He wasn't used to asking anyone for help, "With what? Last time I checked, you were pretty self reliant. Unless you're talking about woman problems, in which case, I don't want to be involved."

"Very funny; I have a case here that I think you'd be interested to see." Of course it had to do with work. From what I'd heard, Greg didn't do anything else. Ever since Stacy and the infarction, he just stopped functioning.

"Is that all you're going to say? I'm in Germany, Greg; you'll have to do more convincing than that." I leaned back in my chair and tried to get comfortable, it was a difficult task.

"Yep, I think that's just about it."

"Greg."

"I'm faxing you the file. Read it and buy the damn plane ticket. I expect to see you here on Wednesday." He was getting ready to hang up, I could tell. I had to get the next words out quickly and carefully or he'd hang up on me.

"Is this the only reason you want me to come to Princeton? Is there something else you want from me?" I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't hang up. Wait. Was a seriously wanting to talk to him more?

He let out a big sigh and I let out a silent cheer, "I've missed you Rita. It's been a long time. Get your ass to Jersey."

He hung up and I tried to breathe again. When my fax machine started to beep I realized I was still holding the phone to my ear. I put the phone back in its cradle and took a minute to wonder where he got my phone number and fax number. Somehow, I don't think Ana was the only one he'd talked to.

I grabbed the print out from the fax machine and read the cover letter. It didn't say much:

Rita,

I won't ask twice.

- Greg

I glanced through the file and had to start coaching myself to breathe again; I was getting excited. Was he serious? A case of hemorrhagic in America? He had to be insane.