Thanks once again to all of you that have reviewed my story. Special shout-outs to those of you who have reviewed anonymously. I can't reply to them, but I do read them. Usual disclaimers apply..I don't own House, blah, blah, blah.
# # #
When House returned to the conference room, the team was actively discussing the case. He decided to slip in and listen, just to see how they worked without him.
Thirteen turned around immediately when he walked in, and three sets of eyes swiveled to face him. So much for the ninja approach. House leaned against the door, gesturing for them to continue.
Foreman looked a bit uncomfortable as he scribbled symptoms on the board. In times past, when he'd had to play babysitter to House, House had made damn sure to make his life as miserable as he could. This time he seemed to take a different approach, hanging back and allowing the team to take the differential in what they deemed to be the necessary direction, only interjecting when they ventured far off the path.
After much discussion, Thirteen's eyes lit up with an idea. She and Taub ran off to start the test and treatment, once again leaving Foreman alone with House.
House leaned against the glass wall, twirling his cane, deep in thought. Foreman folded his arms across his chest in a defensive pose, waiting for House to berate him or otherwise verbally abuse him.
He finally looked up to catch Foreman's eye, setting the tip of his cane on the floor. "Talked to Cuddy today."
"Is that right?" Foreman was a little nervous, but damned if he'd let House see that.
"Yep. Told her you were an idiot."
"Naturally." Foreman rolled his eyes in response and returned to the whiteboard. "Let me know when this gets interesting."
"It's about to." House pushed himself away from the wall to lean on his cane. "After telling me to suck it up, she told me that she didn't…how did she put it? Oh yeah." He posed like Cuddy, mimicking her vocal style, one hand on his hip. "'I don't give a damn who treats the patient, as long as it's successful.'"
Foreman hid a smirk as he scribbled on the whiteboard. "So what's your point?"
Now it was House's turn to roll his eyes. "Come on, genius. Keep up. My point is…this whole 'keep-me-in-line' thing is just on paper. It's just to keep the board happy. Theoretically…I can run things…without running things."
Foreman turned, his face scrunched up in befuddlement. "So let me get this straight. You do all the usual off-the-wall stuff, and if it works, you get the glory. If it doesn't, I get the blame. Am I right?"
"No, you moron." House glared at Foreman. "You get it all, the glory and the blame. Call me…a silent partner, if you will."
Foreman pondered the idea. He had to admit, it had a bit of merit. It would allow House the freedom to work his way, while giving everyone else the illusion that Foreman was actually running things. "What the hell, it's only for a while, right? Not like I'll be doing this forever."
"Thought you'd see it my way." House grinned slightly. "And…you get to see Cuddy and the twins every time I…I mean…you want to do something crazy like take out a chunk of someone's brain. It's brilliant."
"Yeah…except Cuddy lets you get away with things she'd never let me do."
"That's only because I wasn't around. I'll back you up...most of the time. Unless you want to do something really idiotic."
The extension for the conference room rang, ending their conversation. Foreman hit the speakerphone button. "What's the word?"
Taub's voice carried throughout the room. "It worked. Fever's dropping, latest blood work looks clean."
Foreman and House nodded at each other, a grudging respect passing between the two men. "Nice work. Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't have any reactions, and report back." Foreman called out before finishing the conversation and hanging up.
House scrubbed his hand over his head. "Two cases in one week. Can't speak for you, but I'm beat."
"I'll hang out and finish things up if you want to take off." Foreman offered. "You want to look over the chart before I sign off on it?"
"Yeah, throw it on my desk before you leave. I'll look it over in the morning."
Foreman nodded. "Hey, House?"
"Yeah?"
"It's…good to have you back. The place just wasn't the same without you."
House shrugged, a little uncomfortable with Foreman's words. "Yeah, well…"
"Seriously." Foreman's eyes bored into House. "I'm a little out of my league, you know, running the show."
House rolled his eyes, limping over to Foreman, staring at him with a frightening intensity. "You've got the skills. You just need the balls. Tell Thirteen to give them back to you already." He turned and started to head into his office, stopping as he approached the door. "It's like anything else. The more you do it, chances are…the better you get at it."
Foreman watched House push his way through the door, surprised by House's almost kindly behavior. It wasn't like House to give advice, support, whatever the hell it was. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not. It was different, that was for damn sure. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. Clearly he still had a lot to learn from House.
# # #
House briefly considered going home, but it was kind of early yet, and he still didn't know whether his patient was going to recover for sure. He finally decided to pull some clinic duty, killing a couple of birds with one stone. Not only would he clear some of his backlog of hours, but it would keep Cuddy guessing as to his reasons.
He rode the elevator down and signed in, running into Thirteen at the desk. Clearly she had the same idea he did. House nodded to her as he signed in.
"Where's the Lollipop Guild president?" House asked with a smirk. "Thought he'd find his way down here, too."
"He's with the patient." Thirteen replied, a smile playing around her feline features. "What are you doing here? I figured you'd be the first to fly out of here."
House rolled his eyes. "I've got years of clinic hours to make up. That, and it's a great excuse to screw with Cuddy."
"I'm sure she missed that when you were gone."
"Damn straight." House grinned as he took a file. "Someone's got to keep that woman on her toes. Might as well be me."
Thirteen shook her head, amused by House's comments. It was good to see House get back in his groove. Whatever was happening outside of work, it was clearly helping. It was a hell of a lot better than he had been months ago, when he seemed like a man haunted by something no one could define.
They passed each other in the clinic, commenting on the never ending parade of freaks and idiots that passed through. Finally there was a break in the action, and House took the opportunity to sign out.
Thirteen watched him go, and noticed him run into a young man in the lobby. The two started chatting, the other man setting down a portable massage table. House seemed to know him, and he was…smiling, even touching the other man.
When the other man gave him a quick hug, everything clicked for Thirteen. She broke into a wide grin, picking up another file and calling her next patient. Whatever works for you, House. Who the hell am I to judge? It was about damn time he had someone in his life, even if it was someone no one expected. Thirteen vowed to keep her newfound knowledge to herself. She was certain that this was something House would want to keep private until he was ready to tell it, if he ever was. If not…who the hell cared? As long as House was happy, it was all good.
# # #
House left the clinic, having logged a few hours to the good. He had actually enjoyed the experience for a change, and he was pretty sure sharing the time with Thirteen had a lot to do with it.
He had always liked Thirteen, even very early on in the hiring process. There was something in her that he understood, now more than ever. His eyes crinkled in amusement at the notion, considering all the hell he had given her for her bisexuality over the last couple of years.
As he crossed the lobby to the elevators, he noticed a vaguely familiar figure hauling a large object around. When the figure shoved his bangs out of his face, he smirked and casually wandered over.
"What brings you out this way?"
Anthony turned at the sound of House's voice, smiling as he approached. "Doing some work for a pain relief study." He set down his portable table to give House a quick hug, not sure how he'd take the extremely public display of affection.
Surprisingly enough, House reached out to touch him briefly. Not exactly a full hug, but then again, Anthony didn't really expect one. "So…keeping busy?"
"Just about to wrap things up. Patient's on the mend, I've knocked out some clinic duty…life's good."
"Cool." Anthony smiled. "I should be done in an hour or so if you want to get together."
House nodded. "Swing by my place when you're done. I should be there before too long."
"I will. Mind if I bring something to cook?"
"Not at all." House's eyes lit up at the idea. The elevator dinged, indicating its arrival. "My ride's here. See you when you get there."
Anthony nodded, watching House step onto the elevator with the crowd. He was tickled by the idea of cooking for the two of them. It had been ages since he'd done so, since it hardly seemed worth the effort just for himself. He occasionally cooked for friends, but that was different. This was much more intimate, and a little more nervewracking. On the other hand, it seemed like a perfect way to spend an evening. Anthony hoped that House would feel the same way.
# # #
House sat at his piano in a vain attempt to calm his nerves before Anthony's arrival. Running into him in the lobby had been an unexpected and pleasant surprise, the impromptu dinner invitation even more so.
Yeah, it had all sounded great an hour ago. Sitting here by himself, House found himself wracked with doubt. He huffed in irritation. It shouldn't be such a big deal, except that…it was. His first possible relationship in years, and it was with a guy. House's father would roll over in his grave if he knew.
A knock on the door interrupted his dark thoughts. He pushed himself off the piano bench and limped heavily to the door, throwing it open to reveal Anthony, who was holding two grocery bags, his messenger bag slung across his chest.
"Come on in. Kitchen's that way." House stepped away from the door to let Anthony in.
"Thanks." Anthony greeted House with a quick smile and the briefest kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen. House felt himself relax, most of his doubts evaporating in that small moment. He smiled slightly and followed Anthony into the kitchen.
Anthony was puttering around, unpacking groceries and searching for kitchen equipment. House's kitchen was surprising well-equipped, considering that the man didn't seem to cook. Most of it seemed almost new, and Anthony was sure it was simply because it hadn't been used much.
He opened up his bag, pulling out an I Pod and speakers, setting them up on the counter. Soon the sounds of Chicago spilled out into the kitchen, and House limped over to scroll through the playlist. It was mostly classic rock, with some newer music that House didn't recognize.
"What, no show tunes?"
Anthony rolled his eyes. "Not a big fan of musicals."
House shook his head in mock sadness. "You're losing points, boy."
Anthony laughed as he cut up chicken and vegetables and tossed them in a pan. "Here, make yourself useful. Fill this pot instead of standing around making fun of me."
"But making fun of you is useful." House countered as he filled the pot and handed it to Anthony to set to boil on the stove. "It amuses me, amuses you…how is that useless?"
"Good point, I guess." Anthony returned to the stove, singing along with the song that was playing. "When I'm with you…I feel a thousand different feelings…"
House smirked as he reached into the fridge for a pair of beers. "You choose that song on purpose?"
"Nope." Anthony's green eyes crinkled in amusement as he took the beer that House offered. "That thing has a mind of its own."
"Interesting." House limped over to the island, leaning against it as he watched Anthony work. The whole scene stirred something deep inside House, something he didn't even know existed until…now.
House felt a mixture of fear and desire build inside him as he approached Anthony, limping up behind him to place a hand at his waist, closing his eyes as he inhaled Anthony's crisp scent.
"Easy there, big guy." Anthony chuckled softly at House's sudden show of affection.
"What?" House was all wide-eyed innocence as he set his chin on Anthony's shoulder. "It's smelling good."
"Me or the food?" Anthony teased.
"Both." House smirked. "Can't decide what I want first."
"Oh, you're all talk."
"Maybe so, maybe not." House planted a couple of soft kisses on Anthony's neck. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"
Anthony turned off the stove and turned to face House, leaning against the counter and placing his hands on House's waist. "What's gotten into you?"
"Don't know." House studied Anthony's face before reaching up to brush Anthony's bangs from his eyes. The bruising around his eye was fading to a dull yellow, and his lip was far less swollen than it had been the night before. "How are you…"
"Fine." Anthony spoke roughly, pulling House to him for a fierce, searing kiss, completely catching him off guard.
Good to know…House grinned to himself as he pressed further, his cane falling out of his hand to brace himself against the counter. Their tongues tangled as Anthony's hands moved to the small of House's back, drifting further to his backside, pulling him closer.
House pulled back, brushing his lips along Anthony's jaw, the stubble scraping his lips as he moved toward his ear. "What did I tell you about that…" He growled in Anthony's ear.
"Sorry." Anthony's words came out as a rough whisper. "Guess the hands have a mind…of their own…too…" He could barely think, let alone speak, with the way House's hands and mouth roamed over him. A soft groan escaped him as House's hands found their way under his shirt, exploring everywhere he could reach.
The feel of soft skin combined with rough hair triggered something that had long lain dormant in House, and it felt like a set of floodgates opening. Thoughts, feelings, emotions…they rushed through House's brain, crashing into each other, want and need becoming one.
The intensity scared Anthony a little, and his first instinct was to pull back, slow things down. House was having none of it, and he pushed on, capturing Anthony's lips once again, rolling his tongue around in his mouth, that rough hand moving up to stroke his chest.
Something about this suddenly felt wrong, and Anthony felt a wave of panic wash over him, his brain flashing back to events at the club. His breathing shortened, and his body tensed under House's touch.
"Greg…" Anthony's voice came out as a tense squeak. "Stop…please…"
House detected the note of panic in Anthony's voice, and he immediately pulled back. Anthony's eyes were round with fear, even as they were still slightly hooded with desire. "What's wrong?"
"I…I don't even know where to start." Anthony averted his eyes, embarrassed by his reaction to House's touch.
"Try me." House lightly stroked Anthony's face, brushing his hair.
Anthony crossed his arms over his chest in a classic protective pose, looking at the floor. He took a deep breath and started. "When I went to the club the other night…I kind of met a couple of guys."
House frowned slightly, but otherwise didn't react. "Go on…"
"Well…one thing kind of led to another, and I…walked out with one of them." Anthony's mouth twisted as the memory came rushing back. "Turns out they were just toying with me. One of them got me in the eye and the lip, the other knocked me down and kicked me in the ribs. It all just happened so damned fast…" Anthony was shaking, not daring to look House in the eye.
House tilted his head at him, his hands still on the counter on either side of Anthony. "How did Miss Thing get involved?"
"She wasn't far behind me when I left with the guy." Anthony smirked slightly. "When the…action started, she started raising all kinds of hell. Scared the shit out of them, and they ran off. I don't even remember what happened after that…it was all a blur. Next thing I know, you showed up."
"So…that's it? That's the whole story?" House was puzzled.
"Isn't that enough?" Anthony looked incredulous. "Jesus, Greg…this…this is my life. This is what happens to men who like men." He could feel his anger rising. "I don't have the option of just running back to dating women if things get tough. You do."
House groaned and dropped his head. So that's what this was really all about. "Tony…" He stepped forward, planting a kiss on the younger man's forehead. "Right now…you're who I want. And you don't have to tell me how tough it is out there. I already knew."
"I figured you'd have forgotten." Anthony felt a little shamed after his self-righteous outburst.
"Know this about me…I don't forget shit." House felt a little of his own anger rising as old memories bubbled to the surface. "So, anyway…where were we?"
Anthony was completely confused. "What…that's it? I confess to being a man-whore and getting my ass whooped for it…and you just want to…"
"Move on? Yep." House leaned in, laying small kisses on Anthony's face. "It's not like you knew how things would work out between us."
"Yeah, but…we'd already had a date…" Anthony could sense that he was losing the argument, but wasn't quite ready to give up yet.
"So you were keeping your options open. Nothing wrong with that." House glared at Anthony, but there was no anger behind it. "Are you done trying to be rational now?"
"I suppose." Anthony reached out to touch the back of House's neck as House pressed his lips to his, his tongue gently seeking entrance.
"Good." House murmured, running a rough hand through Anthony's feather soft hair, settling on the back of his neck.
A sudden growl from House's stomach broke the moment, and both men burst out into laughter. "Guess I'll take that food now." House stepped back and brushed Anthony's cheek with his thumb. "We can always pick this up…later."
"Right." Anthony leaned against the counter, watching House as he grabbed a plate, peeking in the pot of boiling water.
"Uh…I'm no expert, but I think we're missing something here." House wrinkled his brow in mock confusion.
Anthony smacked his forehead with his palm. He'd been so…distracted that he had forgotten all about the pasta. Laughing, he gently nudged House away from the stove. "Go on…I'll let you know when it's ready. Obviously I have a hard time cooking with you around."
House grinned, a full grin that lit up his face. "Not my fault I'm so damned distracting."
"Out, out, out." Anthony firmly shoved House toward the doorway. "We'll never eat at this rate."
"I'm kind of okay with that." House hollered as he limped into the living room.
Anthony sighed as he dumped pasta in the water. So much for moving slowly. It looked like things were going to move faster with House than he had intended. Like House, he was kind of okay with it, too.
# # #
It's that time again. Read and review. :)
