Thirteen walked into an empty room. She escaped from the differential diagnostics room right after she bid her welcome to the newest addition to House's collection of weirdos and tried to get some space and time just for her.

She pulled a wobbly white chair from the wall adjacent to the door and sat on it. Her brow was furrowed. She never had to deal with a situation like this. There were guys showing up after an one-night stand which she shooed away, there were people who she met on some other parties and the laughed about the situation, making silly references and allusions for fun. She even handled the situation with her lover showing up at the hospital as a patient. But she never tried to jump somebody she was supposed to work with. She didn't know what on earth should she do, or how to handle it. She felt differently. Normally she would just literally wash him off her in the shower and forget. At least until it would resurface as a funny story on some party. And eventually lead to another session of making out and fumbling with zippers, buttons and clasps.

Lovers were lovers; people she fucked, then just said something like 'That was a mistake' or 'Don't tell anyone' and ridicule the situation. That was what she knew, that was what she did. A definitely didn't see any other way of handling things. There was a never a chance to do anything else.

Why,Remy. Why him?

She kept asking herself questions she didn't want to find an answer for. She shook her head and closed her eyes to focus on what was happening here and now. Her breath deepened and slowed down. She heard all the little footsteps and chatter just outside the room. Patients were wandering through the corridors, nurses pushed the crash carts and yelled to each other for help, doctors shuffled papers they were handling. She managed to concentrate on one pair of feet which clearly headed towards the room she was in. Someone was strolling easily down the hallway. Somebody was trying to find a quiet place to work in. Go away, she prayed. Go away. Or better, come in and talk to me. Talk to me and tell me something constructive.

Door made an ear-drilling sound as Jackson Avery opened it with his arm, balancing a few patient charts, a pager, daily planner and a cup of coffee with both his hands, forming a wobbly pyramid. He went in and tried to close the door with his foot. He grinned goofily when he succeeded and turned on his heel to notice Remy, watching him calmly.

'Oops. Okay, well, I'll just go-.' He looked definitely startled and ready to surrender. Remy liked that look in people. It told her that she won, she dominated someone. But in him… it was just uncomfortable. She felt uneasy with that. She felt bad with causing him to look like this, she felt guilty. And guilt was what Remy Beuregarde Hadley loathed.

-No, it's fine. Stay. I mean, if you want. – Thirteen studied his face expression, clearly a bit confused and full of precaution. He hesitated for a split second and then just moved towards another chair and sat on it. He placed his coffee on the armrest of the next one and opened a chart, massaging his temple with two fingers.

Remy sat in silence, her eyes trailing his figure. He looked absolutely occupied and focused on the chart he was going through, occasionally squinting or wrinkling his nose. His sea foam eyes moved quickly side to side of the sheet he was studying. A large vein on his neck, juts under his ear pulsed rhythmically. He bit on his lip absentmindedly when he found something unusual in the text that caught his attention. He rubbed his thumb against the pointer and cocked his head to analyse something.

'Sorry, um, dr. Hadley?'

Remy jerked in her chair. She realized that for the past ten to fifteen minutes she observed Avery, who now gave her a polite look of question. She combed her hair with her fingers and put a few loose strands behind her ear to buy some time.

'You are staring, dr. Hadley.'

Damn it.

'No, it's just… I must have dozed off or something. Sorry about that.' – She produced her best comforting smile, but felt like she was having a stroke. She stood up and headed towards the door, but when she was just grabbing the door handle she stopped at her tracks. She shook her head and turned her head to face Jackson.

'Don't you have anything to say? Anything at all?'

Jackson looked a bit unfocused.

'Like what?' He asked with sincere interest.

Thirteen felt a bit angry. Guys she felt up were angry at her, tried to pursue further, tracked her down, told her stories about what would they do to her if they could. He didn't. He just sat there. He worked for God's sake, he was able to work in front of her and focus on what he was doing!

'Like for example what do you think about what happened in the condo?

Avery shot her a tired yet polite look and closed the chart he was going through carefully. He placed it on his knees. His eyes met hers and the he hung his head, addressing his lap.

'Look. You obviously don't want people you work with to know. You don't want to talk to me either. I didn't want to bother you so that's why I wanted to leave when I entered.' He spoke calmly but firmly. 'You clearly had a reason to shoo me out of your apartment even though you intended to have sex with me at the first place. I won't try to make you talk about it, it's none of my business until you decide that it is. When it comes to me, we are strangers, you are just my coworker. I won't tell anyone about what happened, and you will do whatever you want. I have no right to try to force you to be silent. If you want to talk, talk with me. If you don't, I'm fine with it.'

He finished his monologue with a little sigh and looked her in the eye.

Thirteen was burning white with emotions. She was angry with him for letting her go, adored his politeness, envied his calmness. She wanted to talk, she wanted to very very badly. But she also feared letting her guard down. He couldn't know. He didn't need to. He shouldn't. She felt challenged, as if he wanted her to express her interest. At the same time she felt it was a bad idea. So bad she didn't even want to think about it. She weighed her options for a second and decided to do what she always did; flee and try to look casual.

'Fine.'

She turned her back towards Jackson and left the room. Jackson stared at the closed door for a few minutes and went back to his charts, tired and confused.