Arielle Chapter 4
Elle
After the boys left, I cleaned up the kitchen and changed into my painting clothes. The bedroom was so small that it only took me 2 hours to roll it all.
I tore up the tarp and threw all the trash out. Then I took a shower, dressed and headed out to the grocery store with House's 200 bucks.
Oh, it was nice to be able to buy food. I got all the ingredients for meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Zucchini was on sale so I got some of that to sauté with onions, garlic and peppers for our vegetable tonight. I wanted to make a pot of spaghetti sauce from scratch so I grabbed all the necessary items for that. I'd make that today and keep it in the refrigerator all week to use when needed for spaghetti or chicken Parmesan or whatever. I wasn't sure how often I would eat with House, so I didn't plan too far ahead. I stocked up on the basics and could always grab a few items on my way home from work.
I got the groceries unloaded and started the sauce. It takes a while so I wanted to get it going. While it was simmering, I went through that box looking for all the things I needed for work. I found my pharmacist license and my certifications. Finally, I found my pain questionnaire buried in the bottom of the box. It was a long questionnaire, more comprehensive than most of them. When I interview patients about their pain, I want to know as much as possible to help figure out the best course of treatment for them. It's something I really enjoy doing and I think I'm good at it. It's very rewarding to see patients regain a better quality of life. Most of them will always have chronic pain; the trick is to find the right combination of meds/therapy to keep them as comfortable as possible. I wondered if House would ever let me evaluate him. Surely, he could be on a better plan than just popping Vicodin multiple times a day. Well, I mentioned it to him. The ball was in his court now.
The sauce was simmering nicely, so I decided to take a one-hour nap and then start dinner. I put some soft Mozart on the boom box. I laid down on the futon and set my cell phone alarm. I woke at 5:30, feeling somewhat refreshed. I wandered into the kitchen, grabbed a beer and started on the meatloaf.
HouseThe game was close, but the Red Sox were on a roll. The Phillies ended up losing in the last inning. I tried not to overindulge in hot dogs and beer, knowing that Elle was cooking for me tonight. I had dodged Wilson's questions on the way to Philly by napping, but that wasn't working on the way back. He kept needling me about her and I was rather annoyed. We sniped at each other the whole way back. I dodged the bullet until we got almost back. Then he mentioned that it would make good gossip to spread around: "What cranky old doctor is sleeping with the new pretty young pharmacist?"
I growled at him: "You wouldn't dare. Why would you do that to her? You know what crap she went through on her last job."
He merely shrugged: "You'd do it to me in a heartbeat. All you have to do is tell me what's going on. I swear to keep my mouth shut. You're very protective of her. That means you like her. I know this about you."
I groaned and rubbed my forehead. "You wouldn't really spread gossip about her, would you? You're going to be working with her."
He chuckled: "Yeah, I would. For once, I have you over a barrel. This is payback for all the crappy things you have done to me."
"But you wouldn't be hurting me. You'd be hurting Elle."
"By doing that, indirectly I'd be getting you too."
"You're mean, Wilson. I always thought you were the nice one."
He nodded towards me: "I learned from the master."
Crap. I tried to think of a plausible lie of why Elle would be sleeping in my bed. The only believable reasons were for sex, or the truth. I didn't want to admit to either one. Wilson had a really determined look on his face. I needed to give him something or he would spread gossip. He liked needy women. Maybe if I showed him a needy side of Elle, he would be more sympathetic.
I sighed loudly. "OK. When I got home Friday night, it was late, almost midnight. There was a light on in her place, so I knocked. She had checked out of the motel and was planning on sleeping on the floor. I convinced her to sleep on my couch instead."
I paused. Wilson glanced at me and said: "That doesn't explain how she ended up in your bed on SATURDAY night."
I sighed again: "Let me finish, moron. She went to sleep on the couch and I went to bed to read. After a while, I heard a noise. She was having a nightmare; fell off the couch in the middle of it. She has been having nightmares since the assault. I didn't want her to fall off the couch again, so I convinced her to come sleep in my bed. She was so tired that she fell asleep almost instantly. My leg was bothering me, so I read for a while, and then went to sleep. Like I said, not a big deal."
"OK. That explains Friday night. What about Saturday?"
"Gawd, you're like a dog with a bone, aren't you?"
"Learned from you, buddy."
I groaned inwardly. He was being ridiculously persistent. "OK. Saturday night, we watched movies until late. She was standing up to leave, when I suggested she stay again. I thought she would get better sleep if she wasn't feeling scared by being alone in her apartment."
He looked puzzled at me: "Why are you being so nice to her?"
"She cooks for me. And she's not boring. You, on the other hand, bore me. And when was the last time you cooked for me?"
He smirked: "Is she going to be your new best friend? Are you going to let her sleep with you all the time so that she's not scared?"
I shook my head: "No."
"I asked you two questions."
"Well, they have the same answer, but keep up the 3rd degree and I'll change my answer to the first question. Seriously, I've told you now. I expect you to keep this to yourself. Don't talk to her about it; it would embarrass her. And don't spread any gossip about her. All right?"
"OK. I got my answers. I'm satisfied. Although I want you to promise to tell me when you do start sleeping together AND having sex." He winked at me.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back: "Yeah, I'll tell you. Pigs will fly and hell will freeze over, but I'll tell you when it happens."
We pulled up in front of my building and got out. I glanced at my watch as we headed to the door. It was almost 7PM. Dinner would be ready soon and I wanted to ditch Wilson. I turned to him and asked: "Don't you need to go home to your wife?"
"Naw, she's pissed that I spent my whole Sunday off with you so she's having dinner with her sister tonight. Wanna get Chinese?"
"Nope. I have dinner plans."
"Ooooo, is Elle cooking tonight? Can I join you?"
"Yes, she is. And no, you can't."
"Ah, you want to be alone with her, huh? I understand." He smirked.
"Go home." I knocked on Elle's door with my cane. I could hear B.B. King on the boom box through the door. After a few seconds, Elle opened the door. I paused when I saw her. She was wearing black hip-hugger jeans and another Tweety Bird tank top; this one had black and gray stripes with Tweety in the middle of her chest. There was about 2 inches of tantalizing white skin showing between the tank top and the jeans. She was barefoot and holding a hammer in one hand and rubbing her left shoulder with the other hand. She looked hot, but grimaced in pain. I stepped in and Wilson followed.
Elle shut the door and walked over to turn down the volume on the boom box. She asked: "How was the game?"
I said: "Phillies lost. Why are you rubbing your shoulder?"
"Oh, I've done a bit too much these last couple of days and it's caught up to me. My shoulder still bothers me if I use it too much. And between the painting and moving, I guess I've overdone it. I was hanging some pictures and it kinda went out on me. I was just going to get some ice when you knocked."
That explained why she had a hammer in her hand. I noticed she had hung a couple of framed photographs and there were more leaning up against the wall. She set the hammer down on the coffee table and grimaced with the movement. I knew that look; I felt like that all the time.
I said to her: "Sit down. Let me look at it." Elle sat on the futon and I sat on her left. I asked her what the pain was like.
"When my shoulder was separated, the tendons were overstretched and the joint separated, right? So now it seems like the tendons are loose and don't hold the joint together properly. So it feels like it is trying to separate again. If I ice it down, it seems to tighten up the tendons again and it goes back in place."
I carefully prodded her shoulder while she spoke. I found a couple of tender spots, but nothing else. She really needed an MRI of her shoulder and I told her so. She nodded: "Well, now that I have insurance again, I guess I could get one. Do you want to be my doctor, or am I diagnostically boring?"
Wilson cracked up with that snark. Even I had to smile. "I'd love to be your doctor, but you might be better off with an ortho. I'd suggest Robinson. Tell him I referred you. That will scare him." She giggled, and then moaned in pain. She glanced over at Wilson: "Would you mind going to the freezer? There's this blue ice pack in there. Could you get it for me?"
Wilson nodded and headed into the kitchen.
She looked at me and said: "Dinner's almost ready. But I think you may have to help me a little bit. I'm not sure I can lift the meatloaf out of the oven with my shoulder like this."
"No problem."
Wilson came back with a fancy ice pack that was made to wrap around the shoulder. Elle said that she had just bought it a few days ago and hoped it worked better than the other ice packs she had used. It was a professional ice pack, the type pro athletes use. It would ice the shoulder and limit her motion while it was on. I set it on her left shoulder and secured it by fastening one strap around her upper left arm and then securing the Velcro that went around her chest. Wilson was giving me the eyeball as I was fastening the Velcro around Elle's chest, but she didn't even flinch.
She smiled at me: "Thanks, House." She looked over at Wilson and asked if he was staying for dinner.
"Uh, I'd love to if that's OK."
"Sure. You are elected to help in the kitchen. House, you're in charge of dinner music and setting the table. First, you both should go wash your hands before dinner."
I mugged: "Yes, Mom." I limped into her bathroom, used it and washed my hands. Wilson opted to wash his hands at the kitchen sink. As Elle said, dinner was almost ready. The potatoes were mashed, and the vegetables were cut. Under Elle's instruction, Wilson sautéed the vegetables in a large skillet. When the timer went off, he removed the meatloaf from the oven and placed in on a platter. Meanwhile, I found a Muddy Waters CD and put that on. Elle pointed out the plates and silverware and I set the table. Wilson brought the platters to the table and we all sat down to eat.
It was the best meal I'd had in a long time. I seriously could not remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal. It was delicious. Even the vegetables were good and I'm not much on the green stuff, but these were really tasty. Elle was eating with one hand, but seemed to be doing OK, as nothing really needed cutting with a knife. I did open the beer bottle for her.
We made small talk during dinner. I gave her the highlights of the game. Wilson asked about the photographs on the wall. It turns out that Elle took them. She likes to shoot black-and-white photos. The ones that were hanging were good and I was interested to see the others. She asked if we could guess the location of one of the photos. The photo depicted some gnarled looking trees, just starting to bud with leaves. The ground looked barren like it was in the desert. Wilson guessed Arizona or New Mexico. Elle shook her head and turned to me. I asked for more time to study the photo. She agreed and we chatted about other topics.
I glanced at my watch and then said: "Elle, you've had that cold pack on for more than 30 minutes. You need to take it off before you get frost bite."
She nodded and started undoing the Velcro straps. I helped her take it off and limped over to place it back in the freezer. She moved her shoulder gingerly. "It's still sore, but I think it's better. I'm going to take some ibuprofen." She wandered into the bathroom and quickly returned with a bottle. She handed it to me: "Child-proof top."
I smirked at her: "And you said I was a little kid? You're so little you can't open these bottles, and you're a pharmacist!"
She whined: "My shoulder hurts." I opened the bottle for her and poured a couple of tablets into her hand. "Thanks".
She went looking for her beer to wash them down. I left the open bottle with the lid off on the kitchen counter in case she needed another dose later.
Meanwhile, Wilson started clearing the table. He stacked the dishes and brought them to the sink. Then he started washing them. Elle stared at him in surprise, then glanced at me. I just shrugged. She nodded and started slowly wrapping up the leftovers.
Wilson finished the dishes and dried his hands on a towel. Elle thanked him and asked if he would grab the large pot on the stove and set it in the refrigerator for her.
Wilson lifted the lid of the pot: "What's this? OH, this smells terrific. You make sauce from scratch?" He rummaged in a drawer until he found a spoon and tasted it. The look on his face was pure ecstasy. "Oh, this is fantastic. House, you gotta taste this." He grabbed another spoon and dipped it into the pot again. He handed it to me and I tasted it. He was right. It was excellent. I had some exquisite Italian meal to look forward to in the near future. I licked the spoon clean and made appreciative yummy noises. "Yum. What are you making me with that terrific sauce?"
"I was thinking spaghetti, maybe some chicken cacciatore, lasagna, stuffed shells. Next time I'm off, I could make manicotti, but I need all day for that as it's a long process."
Wilson's jaw dropped: "You make manicotti from scratch?"
Elle nodded and shrugged as if to say: what's the big deal?
Wilson's enthusiasm grew: "Oh, can you show me how? I would love to be able to make that from scratch."
Elle shrugged again: "Sure."
It was fun watching Wilson get all excited about cooking. Maybe he missed his calling. Perhaps he should have been a chef instead of a doctor. He asked Elle: "Where did you learn to make this stuff? You're not Italian, not with a name like Kaplan."
She giggled: "Italian boyfriend who wanted me to cook like Mama."
I was intrigued now. I liked delving into her past. As Wilson grabbed the pot, and set it in the refrigerator under Elle's direction, I asked: "So who was this Italian boyfriend and what happened to him?"
"We broke up amicably. We're still friends. Actually, he's Theresa's second cousin. That's how I met Theresa and Billy and through them, met the boys."
That was not enough information for me. I like details. "Not much of a story. You weren't together very long."
She replied: "Four years."
I looked surprised. She chuckled: "Did you want the whole story or just the highlights?"
Wilson jumped in: "I want to hear about the cooking part."
I scowled at him: "I prefer the juicy details. So go for the whole story."
She laughed: "You guys are incorrigible. Want brownies and ice cream for dessert? There are enough brownies left for the 3 of us."
Wilson and I responded affirmatively. Elle placed brownies into 3 bowls, heated them in the microwave for a short time and Wilson scooped vanilla ice cream on top of each one. We sat back down at the table to hear Elle's tale. Elle glanced between the two of us as we sat there eagerly awaiting her story.
"You guys are hysterical. Nosy, but hysterical. I met Tony at pharmacy school. We started dating in our 4th year of the 6-year program. He taught me how to cook his favorite dishes. When they didn't come out quite right, he'd call Mama and she would talk me through it over the phone. I was never as good as Mama, but I think I came close. Tony's the only boy in a family of 6 kids. So Mama wanted to be sure he was eating right. We flew up for Christmas during our last year at school and I got hands-on kitchen time with Mama. I helped her and all the sisters with Christmas dinner. It was nice, being a part of such a big family for a while. He's the reason I moved to New Jersey, you know. This is where he's from. So after college, he had always planned on moving back. So I came with him. Our relationship lasted about a year longer, and then we broke up. I liked my job and I had met the boys. We hadn't started playing at Satchel's yet, but we were rehearsing together. I really didn't have anyone back in Florida to return to, so I stayed here. Stop that!"
That last part was addressed to me. I had finished my brownie and was trying to steal some of hers. She hugged the bowl closer to her chest and growled: "Mine."
I grinned and raised my left eyebrow at her. She sure was cute, but I still wanted more brownie and I wanted to hear the rest of the story. I put on the sad puppy-dog face and said 'please' in a very whiny voice. She ate a couple more bites staring right at me. Then she handed the rest of her bowl to me and wiped her face with a napkin. I stared at the bowl incredulously. There was half of it left. I tried to hand it back to her, but she shook her head. "I'm full." I looked at her eyes to see if she really meant it. Her gaze softened and she nodded. I nodded my thanks and finished her dessert.
In between bites, I asked: "So why did you break up?"
"He comes from a very traditional family. Singing in a bar with a band was not their idea of what a woman does, especially a married woman. He wanted me to convert to Catholicism and stay home to raise the kids. I was 26 years old and I wasn't ready for that. I wanted to work and I wanted to sing. I hadn't just spent 6 tough years working my way through college to just stay home. We knew we wouldn't be able to compromise on certain things, especially religion, so we decided to end it before it got ugly. We stayed friends. He met Nancy and married her about a year later. I went to their wedding. I've been to the babies' christenings. They have 2 boys and another baby on the way. They send me a Christmas card every year and Theresa keeps me up to date on the family happenings."
She looked down for a minute and then continued: "They all came to see me when I was in the hospital, the whole family. Mama brought me food. She'd actually feed me when I was in too much pain to feed myself. She made me baby food, orzo and stuff that were easy to digest. It was really nice of them."
She looked back up at us and said in a faux Italian accent: "So, dat's the story of me and Tony. Youse two heard enough?"
Just then Wilson's cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and groaned. He looked at me and just said: "Julie."
I shrugged: "Probably time to go home and face the music."
He stood up: "Yeah. Elle, thank you very much for dinner. It was terrific."
"No problem. You're a great guest. You do dishes. I like that in a guest."
She grinned at him. "Actually, you could do me one favor before you go. Could you set this box in my car? I'm afraid I won't be able to carry it and I need to take all this stuff to work tomorrow."
He replied: "Sure, but how will you get it into the hospital in the morning?"
"I'm sure I'll find someone to help me out, or I'll grab a wheelchair and push it in. Oh, and here's a copy of the pain questionnaire. You could just take that with you." Elle grabbed some papers out of the box and handed them to Wilson. He glanced at it quickly, and then rolled it up and shoved it into his back pocket. He picked up the box and they walked outside. Her car was parked right out front. I watched him set the box in the back of her car. He gave her a peck on the cheek and then he walked off to his car. I was staring at the tree photo when Elle walked back in.
"Have you figured it out yet?"
"No, but give me some time." My eyes roamed over the photo, taking it in. Then I turned to her and asked how she was feeling.
She sighed: "It hurts. Do you think it could have separated again?"
"Probably not. When it's separated, you can usually feel a bump on the tip of your collarbone. Let me check for that again. I didn't feel it before."
I probed her shoulder gently. It was tender, but there was no bump.
"You may have just aggravated the tendons. I don't think you did anything so strenuous this weekend to cause it to separate again. Let's get it X-rayed tomorrow and check it out. I'll try to set up an MRI too."
"Thanks. Could you help me lower the back of the futon? I don't think I can do it with one arm."
"Why don't you sleep at my place again? Then you won't have to mess with the futon."
She laughed: "I'm beginning to think you like me sleeping with you." She had a mischievous glint in her eyes. Shaking her head, she said: "Seriously, I don't want to bother you. I'm sure I get up a lot earlier than you do. I have to be at work at 8AM."
"That's OK. Your little cell phone alarm doesn't wake me up. I don't want you to risk rolling off this little futon and hurting your arm. That's the arm you landed on Friday night when you fell off my couch."
"Oh, yeah. You're right." She bit her lower lip in concentration. "OK, if you're sure I'm not bothering you."
I groaned: "You're not except for this repetitive question of 'are you bothering me'. Go put on your pajamas and put on a t-shirt. You shouldn't have the ice on your bare skin. There should be a layer of cloth between the ice and your skin."
She nodded and headed to the bedroom. I was checking out her other photos when I hear a cry of pain from the bedroom.
I hurried over to the door and asked: "Elle, are you OK?"
She choked out: "No-o-o. I can't lift my arm to get my shirt off. It's really hurting."
"Can I come in?"
She replied in a shaky voice: "Ye-es." I opened the door. She had her back to me and I could see that she was wiping her face. She was crying and trying to hide it from me.
"Let me help you. Where's the t-shirt?" She pointed to a cardboard box next to the closet.
"Do you have a big shirt? It would be easier to get on and off."
She nodded and pawed through the pile of t-shirts until she found what she was looking for. It was a Jackson Browne concert t-shirt, size X-L. Perfect.
"OK, Elle. Turn around and face away from me." She did as I asked.
I'm going to take off your top on the right side first, then I'll get the left side". She nodded. I grabbed the hem of her top under her right arm and gently lifted it up. Her right arm slipped out easily, then I pulled it off her head. I carefully eased it off her left arm. I didn't know where to put it so I just dropped it on the floor. I grabbed the t-shirt and reversed the process. I slipped her left arm in first. Then I pulled in over her head and she slipped her right arm in. I tugged it down in the back and she took care of the front. All covered up again, she turned around and shyly thanked me. She looked so small and vulnerable in that huge t-shirt that I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and hold her. I don't know where that thought came from. Maybe Wilson was right. I was feeling very protective of her.
I cleared my throat: "Can you manage your jeans or do you need help?"
She smirked at me: "Trying to get in my pants already, Dr House?"
I chuckled: "Just trying to be neighborly and help. I'm going to go get your ice pack. Call me if you need me."
I strode out of the room and went into the kitchen. I took the ice pack out of the freezer and waited for her. I thought of her naked torso and placed the ice pack over my groin to cool off.
Elle's turnI can't believe I have messed up my arm again. The boys will just kill me if I can't play this weekend after I promised them that I would. Shit, it hurt so bad right now I couldn't even get my top off. House had to help me. That was kinda embarrassing, although I must say he was a real gentleman about it. He had me turn my back and there was no funny stuff. I don't understand why he's so nice to me.
I managed to get my jeans off, no small feat with only one hand and pull on my yoga pants. House was waiting for me in the kitchen with the ice pack. He helped me put it on and fastened the Velcro for me.
"Come on, Elle. Grab your keys and cell and let's go to my place."
I did as requested and in a few minutes we were sitting on his couch, sipping scotch and watching some more Monty Python. When the show finished, he helped me take the ice pack off and he placed it in his freezer. When he returned, he asked me how it felt. I reluctantly told him that the ice helps, but it was still fairly painful. He looked concerned.
"Do you want me to take you to the hospital tonight for an X-ray?"
I shook my head almost in tears. "No, I don't want to bother you."
"God, you have to stop saying that. You're not bothering me. Maybe you don't know me very well, but everyone at PPTH will tell you I'm a rat bastard and I don't do ANYTHING that I don't want to do. Well, except for clinic duty that is forced upon me by Cuddy."
He lifted my chin and made me look him in the eye. "You know I've got this bum leg. If I was hurting and needed something, would you help me?"
"Of course, I would." I felt a tear slid down the side of my face. He caught it with his fingertip and wiped it away.
"Then let me help you. Look, it's only 10PM. We could go to the hospital now and get the X-ray. Or I can fasten a sling, immobilize it for tonight, and see how you are in the morning."
I took a deep breath. "Let's immobilize it tonight and see how it is in the morning. If I can't get dressed in the morning and have to wake you up to help me, then I'll know it's really bad."
He grinned: "If you have to wake me before 8AM, you better be prepared to owe me about 20 more dinners." He kissed the top of my head and let his lips linger there for a minute. I was surprised, and then he hurriedly got up saying he was going to look for something to make the sling with.
I watched him limp down the hall and thought that popped into my head and temporarily drove away the pain was: "Nice ass".
House's turnWhat was I thinking, kissing the top of her head like that? The smell of her hair, ohmygawd, I could have lingered there for a long time. It smelled of oranges, so fresh and citrus-y. Gawd, she's gorgeous. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to just sleep with her without wanting more.
I tried to push those thoughts of Elle out of my mind as I searched for what I needed to make the sling. Finally I found the cloth I was searching for. I returned to the living room and make the sling. I eased her arm into it gently. She assured me that it was OK. I poured us each a scotch and we settled back and watched some more TV. Elle wanted to go to bed at 11, so we wandered down the hall together. It was way too early for me to sleep, but I climbed in with her to make sure she was comfortable. I propped her arm up with an extra pillow and she said she felt comfortable enough to sleep.
"It's early for me to go to bed, so I'm going to sit up for awhile. Call me if you need anything."
She smiled and said thanks.
I couldn't resist brushing a few stray hairs away from her face. Her skin was so smooth and soft. Her big blue eyes were sleepy and starting to close, but she gave me a small smile. I leaned down and kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear: "Night, Elle."
She turned her head, kissed my cheek and said: "Night, House."
I watched her close her eyes. Then I got up and headed quietly out to the living room.
I went to bed around 2AM. After two Vicodin and a couple of scotches, I figured I could sleep now. I left the light on in the bathroom to be a night light for Elle. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully. She was laying on her right side, with her left arm propped up on the pillow. She faced my side of the bed and was laying right smack in the middle of the bed. I chuckled, but there was still plenty of room left for me in the king-sized bed. After I climbed into bed, I switched off the bedside lamp. I rolled over to face her and could just see her face with the dim light coming from the bathroom. She looked peaceful and angelic. I found my body responding, desiring her. I rolled away, onto my back. I had to put these thoughts out of my mind. We had a nice thing going and I didn't want to ruin it. She may have her damaged bits, but she was young and beautiful. There was no way she would want to be with a cranky old cripple like me. She could find someone better than me. I scrubbed my hands over my face in frustration and started counting sheep. I was up to 430 little lambs before I finally dozed off.
Elle's turnMy alarm woke me at 6AM. I rolled over and quickly flicked it off before it could wake up House. I lay on my back assessing my shoulder. It didn't feel too bad at the moment. The test would come when I took off the sling and tried to get my shirt off. I was about to roll out of bed when I felt a large hand on my tummy.
A sleepy voice said: "Hey. How's the shoulder?"
"Sorry I woke you. It seems OK at the moment; it's not hurting."
"Good." He seemed to doze off again, but then his eyes opened halfway. "Call me if you need something."
"I will." I watched his eyes droop until they closed and his breathing settled into a peaceful rhythm. I tentatively caressed his cheek with the back of my right hand. I like the way his scruffy beard felt against my skin.
I didn't want to leave this lovely warm cocoon but I knew I needed to get going. I kissed his forehead and rolled gently out of bed. Grabbing my keys and cell phone, I headed to my place and started the coffeepot. Then it was the moment of truth. I eased the sling off, so far, so good. I slowly pulled the t-shirt off. The shoulder ached some, but not too badly. I breathed a sigh of relief. I moved my arm gingerly and realized it was not as bad as last night. So I hopped in the shower and washed up. I put on a loose comfortable shirt that would not feel binding against my shoulder. Dressed for work, I headed to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee. I made a fried-egg sandwich and had it along with 2 cups of coffee. I poured the rest of the coffee into a carafe and walked it over to House's apartment. I left it on the kitchen counter for him to find when he woke up. He seemed to really like my coffee. I still had about 15 minutes before I needed to leave for work, so I grabbed my ice pack from his freezer and took it back to my place. I sat down and put it on as best I could. I couldn't get the chest strap fastened with just one hand. I let it sit for 10 minutes, and then stuck it back in the freezer. Even sitting partially on my shoulder, the ice pack helped. Hopefully, I would get through the day OK.
I pulled into the parking garage at PPTH, looking around for another person. I needed someone to carry the box for me. Starting at 8AM put me at a disadvantage. Most of the medical staff started their morning shifts at 7AM; the office staff started at 9AM. It looked like I would need to go into the hospital and grab a wheelchair and come back for the box. Then I saw a guy drive in. He was in a rather expensive-looking car, which meant he was probably a doctor. I shouldn't ask a doctor I didn't know to help me. Too bad it wasn't Wilson. I watched him get out of his car. He looked very young to be a doctor, but maybe he was just blessed with good genes. I decided to go for it anyway; the worst that could happen would be that he would tell me 'no'.
I called over to him: "Excuse me".
He turned around and flashed a nice smile at me. He walked over and said: "Hi. Did you need something?"
I gave him a big smile. "Yes. I was wondering if you could help me. I'm new here and I've got this box of things I need to carry in. I hurt my shoulder over the weekend moving into my new place and well; I don't think I can carry it in. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind could you bring it into the hospital for me? Then I could set it in a wheelchair and push it up to my floor."
"It's no trouble. I can carry it to your floor. Where are you?"
"I'm up on 6. I'm Arielle Kaplan, the new oncology pharmacist."
"I'm Robert Chase. I'm a fellow here."
He stuck out his hand and we shook. So he was a doctor. Well, he had a nice smile and he was being very kind about carrying the box. I unlocked the back of my car and he picked up the box. We walked towards the hospital.
I floundered for some small talk: "I couldn't help noticing your accent. Where are you from?"
Again the smile: "Australia. My boss is always ragging on me for being British, but there is a difference."
"Wow, Australia. That's a long way off. How did you end up here?"
"My father wanted me to go to medical school here. He's also a doctor. So I came for med school and stayed for my internship and residency. Now I'm doing a 3 year fellowship."
"Will you go back to Australia when you've finished your fellowship?"
"I don't know. I haven't decided yet. My mum's passed away, but my sister is there. I've been away so long that the States almost feels like home. How long have you been in Princeton? Oh, wait, you said you just moved."
"Yeah, but I just moved into a new apartment. I lived here for about 10 years. I'm originally from Florida."
"How did you end up here from sunny Florida? The one thing I really hate about New Jersey is the crappy winter weather."
"Yeah, sometimes it's pretty bad. I moved up here with my college boyfriend. We lasted about a year after the move, but I decided to stay. There wasn't really anything in Florida to go back to."
"You don't have any family there?"
I shook my head: "No, my parents died when I was 10."
He nodded: "Yeah, I was 18 when my mum died. It still sucks."
We reached the elevator and I punched the 'up' button. We stood in silence waiting for the elevator.
Then I heard a familiar voice say: "Good morning, Elle. Morning, Chase."
I turned to see who was standing next to us and was pleased to see it was Wilson. "Good morning, Dr Wilson. Dr Chase was nice enough to help me with bringing my box in from the car."
He had a wary look in his eyes: "Yes, that was nice of Chase. Um, I'm going up to 6 now; I could take it the rest of the way for you. I know it's out of your way, Chase."
Chase replied: "Oh, I don't mind. I'm early anyway. Got plenty of time."
Wilson blew out a puff of air and spoke rather insistently: "I can take it, Chase. I need to talk to Elle anyway about some work issues."
Chase got the hint and handed him the box. He looked at me and said: "Nice meeting you. Hope to see you around. I'm going to go to the cafe for some coffee before I head upstairs. See you later, Wilson."
The elevator arrived and we entered. We were alone for the ride up.
I looked at Wilson and said: "So, what was that? You obviously didn't want him to come up to my office."
He sighed: "Sorry. I didn't mean to come across so rudely. You should know that Chase is one of House's fellows."
I shrugged: "OK. So what does that mean?"
"House probably won't like it if you hang out with Chase. He gets rather protective at times."
"Do I need to be protected from Chase? He seems harmless. Is he a closet pervert?"
"No, I'm sure he's fairly harmless. But I think House would be miffed if you were to go out with Chase."
"Why? Does House want to date me? He hasn't given me any indication that he wants something other than food from me." But there are the kisses and the concern about my arm. And he strokes my hair. I've slept in his bed for 3 nights now. What does that mean?
"House isn't very verbal when it comes to his feelings. He may be letting you know in other ways. Just keep it in mind."
I nodded slowly, my mind running off in 10 different directions. We reached the 6th floor and headed to my little office. Wilson set down the box.
"I didn't mean to come across so harshly. You haven't seen him when he is in one of his tiffs and I don't want Chase to be an innocent victim because he was nice enough to help you out."
"It's OK. Don't worry about it."
By the way, I really like the pain questionnaire. I'll take it to Cuddy and have it printed up with the PPTH logo on it. In the meantime, just take some whiteout and cover up the PMMC logo and use it. I have 2 patients this afternoon that I want you to see. I'll get you their files later. I want to sit in with you today to see what you do. After that, you'll handle them on your own, OK?"
"OK. Thanks. I'd better get to work. Susan will be wondering where I am. Oh, and if you see House, you could let him know that my shoulder feels better today."
He gave me one of his nice smiles: "I'll tell him. I'm glad it's doing better. I'll see you later. The first patient is at 2:00." He left and I walked down to the pharmacy satellite, thinking about what he had said about House.
HouseMy alarm went off at 9AM. I slapped it and rolled back over. She was gone, but I could still smell her on the sheets. It was a nice citrus-y scent and something else, something distinctively her. It is a good thing, really, that she wasn't here. I woke up with a huge boner that was tenting my pj's. She would not have been able to miss it. I got up and hit the shower right away taking care of all my needs while I was in there. I imagined her soaping me all over and I came with a quick fury. Lathering myself after that was rather boring, but I washed up and headed out to the kitchen with a towel around my waist. I discovered the coffee right away and sent thanks through the airwaves for her. I sat and had a cup right away, savoring it slowly. I dressed and poured the rest in a to-go cup and headed out to work.
My morning was uneventful. Wilson came by around 11:45 for lunch. We headed out to the cafe. Wilson grabbed his usual salad and I had my usual Reuben. We nabbed a booth back in the corner and sat down to eat.
Wilson said: "I saw Elle this morning. She said to tell you that her shoulder is better today."
"That's good. Did she get the box inside all right?"
"Yeah, CHASE carried it in for here."
I sputtered incredulously: "Chase was here at 8AM? How bizarre. Did he hit on her?" I tried to act nonchalant about that. I didn't want Jimmy to think too much about that.
Wilson chuckled: "I headed him off before he could try. I took the box from him at the elevator and sent him on his way."
"Good man, Jimmy. Can't have the wombat making time with my neighbor." I frowned. "She might stop cooking for me. That would be really bad."
He smirked: "Yeah. That would be. I warned her to stay away from him."
"You did? Why?"
"I figured you wouldn't like it if he hung out with her."
"Well, I wouldn't. But I don't have the right to tell her who to see."
"How very noble of you. But considering that this woman has actually slept in your bed, I figured you might be feeling a tad possessive of her."
I smirked: "Maybe a tad. She is beautiful and a great cook. She won't be alone for long."
"It could be you if you put a little effort into it."
I slowly shook my head. "Naw, Jimmy. I can't go down that road. It only brings pain. Besides she deserves someone who is not a old cranky cripple."
"Yeah, go on and feel sorry for yourself. Moron."
"Idiot."
"Self-absorbed nutcase."
I pulled myself up to my full height: "Hey, that hurt. I'm not a nutcase."
He chuckled.
Ready to change the subject, I asked: "So are you watching General Hospital with me in Coma Guy's room at 2PM?"
"I can't. Got patients to see. In fact, I have 2 pain patients for Elle to see today. First appointment is at 2PM and the other is at 3PM. Today, I'm going to observe how she handles the patients, and then I'll let her see them on her own, and report back to me. Have you seen her pain questionnaire?"
I shook my head.
"It's really comprehensive, much better than others I've seen. Here's a copy. See what you think." He removed some papers that were rolled up in his back pocket and handed them to me. "Maybe you should go see her. I'll let you know what I think of her interviewing techniques after today's patients. Maybe she could help you get off of the Vicodin."
"Right, I'll just control my leg pain with sunshine and puppy love. Thanks, Wilson, but it's just not enough."
"There are other meds, House."
"Yeah, Jimmy, there are. But if the pain is barely controlled with the Vicodin, what makes you think I can handle it with non-narcotic meds? You should actually be afraid that after she evaluates me, that she might suggest something stronger than Vicodin."
He snorted: "I doubt that would happen."
"We'll see after your patients today. What does Guskiewicz think of her? He used to work with her at PMMC, right?"
"He thinks she's great. But we have not talked in detail about her drug recommendations."
I stood up and grabbed my tray to bus it. "Come see me later this afternoon and let me know what you think of her recommendations."
"If I like her ideas, would you go see her?"
I shrugged. "Maybe. I hope to see her for dinner, anyway." With that last smirk, I walked off.