AN: Please excuse me for the long delay. For some reason, this chapter was hard to write, and, even now, I'm not terribly happy with it. Let me know your thoughts, and thank you for the reviews. As usual, I own nothing related to OTH or House.

Chapter 9

Lucas

When I arrive in the procedure room, Brooke and Rachel are already there, and Rachel is in position, legs on the stirrups, waiting for Dr. Ash. I look at Brooke, and she looks down. Since we talked at the roof of my apartment, and I explained why I wouldn't perform Rachel's termination, she's been avoiding me like the plague. I went over that conversation a hundred times, trying to understand what I did wrong, without success. Now, I'm just giving her space.

I approach the chair, and get a hold of one of Rachel's hands. Clammy and cold. She's putting on a brave, determined face. But I can see a bit behind the front, and it breaks my heart. "Hey, Red. You ready?"

"Yup. Let's get this over, please."

"You're sure, sweetie?"

"Yes."

"Very well. This procedure is done with local anesthetic. Also, the nurse is giving you a sedative, which will make you relaxed and drowsy."

The procedure itself takes just twenty minutes, and afterwards, an orderly takes Rachel to the recovery room, where she will nap for an hour or two, before she can go home. I accompany Brooke to a waiting area, and, for the first time since last week, we're facing each other.

"Brooke..."

"No, Lucas. Don't say anything."

"Allie and I ended things, right before you came back."

"What? Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"You gave up your fuckbuddy because of me?" She sounds annoyed.

"It's not like that. First, Allison and I were more about friendship than sex."

Brooke smirks. "Not that you were complaining about the sex."

"I certainly wasn't. Second, I had no intention of creating, or implying, any expectations."

"Then why did you two break up?"

"Callie suggested it. Allison and I agreed. She said that if I wanted to focus on where we, I mean, you and I, were going, it would be best to avoid this specific complication."

Brooke nods in agreement. "You should have told me."

"This is the first opportunity I've had."

She looks at me silently for a bit. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If you need space and time, take it. The last thing I want is to pressure you in any way. I just wish you'd tell me what I did wrong."

I stand transfixed there, in the middle of a hospital waiting room, while she suddenly bursts into tears. And runs into a restroom.

I wait for about half an hour. She doesn't come out, so I grab a passing nurse and ask her to stand at the door for a few minutes and not let anyone in, while take care of a runaway patient.

She's locked in on one of the stalls. "Brooke?"

Her voice is still a little broken. "Go away. You're not allowed in here."

"I'm a doctor, and this is a hospital. I'm allowed everywhere." I give it a minute. "Please, let me help."

"You can't."

"Rachel will be out of recovery soon. We need to take her home."

"Would you do it?"

"Brooke..."

"Please, Lucas. I can't. I'll come to you, I promise."

"All right, Pretty Girl. I'll wait. You know where to find me. But you need to get out of there."

"I will."

I get out of the restroom, and about five minutes later Brooke comes out and leaves, looking straight to the ground. I bring Rachel to my home, including a five-story bridal carry. I find out how heavy a size zero fashion model can be, after the second floor. I give her a mild sedative and let her sleep in one of the spare bedrooms.

I spend an hour exercising, shower and fix myself dinner. Grilled chicken, tossed salad, strawberries with vanilla ice cream and a glass of Chardonnay.

After dinner I check on my guest. She's still fast asleep. I try to write a bit, but I can't focus. I'm clearly out of depth with the Brooke situation. So, I do what I've been doing most of my life in this situation. I appeal to a higher form of conciousness.

"Nathan?"

"Oh, hi big brother. What's up?"

"I need to pick your wife's brain."

Nathan laughs. "Girl trouble?"

"Oh, yes."

He shouts "Haley! Lucas."

Her voice sounds like she was laughing. "Hey, Luke."

"Hales. Nephew and niece?"

"Jamie is at your mother's. A study date with Lily and a couple of their friends. Lydia was being a goof here."

Breathless girl voice on the other side. "Hi Uncle Lucas! I miss you!"

"Miss you too, pumpkin." Eleven-year-old Lydia is a near copy of her mother, and a favorite of mine.

"What's up, doc?"

"Well, Bugs... I'm a little over my head here. Need some advice."

"Talk to me."

"You know about Brooke."

"Your eighteen-year-old. I heard."

"We met about a month ago, went on a couple of dates, and spent a couple of days together. Let me just say we made a strong impression in each other, despite the age difference. She went back to California, and we spent three weeks communicating by text."

"How many texts?"

"About a dozen a day. She was never far from my thoughts, and I suspect the same is true for her. She got back to New York about a week ago. She and her friend Rachel are moving to an apartment below mine. We greeted each other with an amazing kiss in the middle of the street, our first and only. We went through something complicated, that ended with a conversation at my place. I can't share details. We parted in what I thought were good terms, but she's been avoiding me for a week. We met again today, I told her I had ended a "friends with benefits" arrangement I had right before she arrived. She questioned why I hadn't told her, and I called attention that today was the first opportunity I had to tell her. She apologized, and I told her she had nothing to apologize for, and that I just wanted to know what I had done wrong. Then she burst into tears and hid in a girl's bathroom. I went in after a while and she told me she couldn't deal with me, that I couldn't help her and she promised she would come to me later. And that's all, folks."

"You're being vague on the circumstances."

"Confidentiality. Not hers."

"Ah." Haley hums a bit to herself. A sign the little wheels in her mind are spinning like mad. "Did she seem mad or angry, today?"

"No. More sad and scared. The sadness part was warranted by the undisclosed circumstances."

"I see. I don't know your girl, but think I can offer a guess."

"What? Anything, please."

"I think she's scared. Maybe terrified."

"Of what?"

"Of falling for you. Let me remind you of something. Junior year, Dan's beach house. You're about to have sex with the girl you've been crushing on forever. You open yourself, pour your heart out. What happens?"

"She freaks out, runs away." It's like a light is turned on in a dark room. "Damn!"

"Let me add one little thing. You were just a sixteen-year-old boy, then. Still, you were pretty intense, and you scared her. Now, you're a grown man, accomplished, a hundred times more intimidating. Add to the fear of falling for you the fear that she is just not enough, that you'll get bored."

"How do I handle this?" I'm probably asking myself, not Haley.

She snorts. "Find a playmate closer to your own age."

"Not an option. I'm not letting this one go. Not without a fight."

She laughs "Oh, boy! You've got it bad. I gotta meet this girl."

"I think you'll like her."

"I'm a high school teacher and a mom. I like teenagers."

"I hate you, Hales."

"You'll need patience. Let her come to you. Make no sudden moves."

I laugh a bit. "She's a girl, not a mountain lion. Still, patience is always sound advice."

"Unless you're trying to escape from a mountain lion."

I laugh some more. "All right, Hales, thanks. This really helped."

"You're welcome. Always here for you, as you know."

"Likewise. See ya."

"Bye."

Brooke

What the hell is wrong with me? I know I'm hurting him. I keep looking for a safe place, some kind of balance, but every time I think of him, my balance, my sense of safety goes out the window. I'm afraid. Afraid of what will happen to me if he leaves, or gives up. I'm afraid of losing myself on him. I'm afraid I'm not enough, that he will find someone smarter, or more put together, or less damaged. I hate him for my fear and for how much I need him.

My best friend, hell, my only friend not only out of commission but, even at her best, useless. Rachel would just tell me to grow a pair, and get naked in his bed. The thing is, I have a pair of big brass ones. But I'm so outside my comfort zone it's not even funny. And I have the feeling that if I got naked in his bed, he would scold me, kiss me in the forehead and send me to my room. I need a fucking mother, or a big sister. Hell, even an older cousin would do. I have none of these things. I mean, I do have a mother of sorts, but I'd be better off talking to a rottweiler.

Of course, having run out of smart things to do, I do something totally stupid. I look for the ER. I approach the charge nurse and ask for Dr. Cameron, identifying myself as a friend. She looks me up and down and shrugs, pointing to the attending's lounge.

I knock, and hearing no reply, I walk in. Allie is lying down on a sofa, eyes closed. I stand next to the door, uncertain how to proceed. She opens her eyes "What is it... Brooke?" She sits up in a sudden motion.

I walk in and close the door. I give her an embarrassed smile. "Hi."

"What are you doing here, girl? Anything wrong?"

Suddenly I realize an ER is not usually a place you go if nothing physical is wrong. "No, no. Oh god, sorry. There's nothing wrong."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. What are you doing here?"

I feel tears coming. I speak in a small voice. "I need to talk."

"With me?"

I shrug. "There's nobody else."

"What about Lucas? Or Rachel?"

"Rachel is in good hands. I need to talk about myself. Maybe Lucas too, a little."

"I don't think I'm the right person, sweetie."

I stand, arms rigid against my side, ten feet from where she's sitting. "I'm an eighteen-year-old college freshman. I'm a slut, who's slept with a hundred guys. I like to party, to dance, and I like fashion. I'm vain and superficial. I'm a neglected child with serious abandonment issues. I have no family and very few friends. I don't like to read, I don't like depressing music and movies with subtitles. And I make no apology for any of that. I'm exactly who I want to be. And I'm head-over-heels in love for the first time. I know he likes me. But how long is it going to take for him to find out exactly what I am and turn his back, bored or disappointed? I'm scared. No. I'm terrified, paralized." I end the idiotic speech looking at the ground, mortally embarrassed and in tears.

She giggles. I lift my eyes, feeling something between surprised and annoyed. "Oh, Brooke. I'm sorry!"

"What? Anything funny in what I said?"

She looks a little embarrassed. "No, of course not. It's me, not what you said. I'm not the right person. You should say it to Lucas."

"I don't think I could do that." Maybe after half a dozen shots of tequila...

She shrugs. "I get that.. But remember, he can be trusted. Not many men can."

Is trust the issue? I do trust him. Probably more than anyone I've ever known. It's pure instinct, but I rely on my instincts much more than on my cheerleader brainpower. I don't really know him enough, and I'm not sure even Allie does. I just left him taking care of my only real family, recovering after a deeply traumatic experience. I trust him with Rachel, more than I trust myself. Do I trust him with me? The answer may be irrational, but it is completely obvious. I trust him a lot more than I trust myself.

She waits, as the silence stretches. "I'm not going to be talking about Lucas to you. You need to get to know him and make up your own mind."

Right. "That can't be the reason you laughed."

She smiles. "True. I also caught a glimpse of some of what he sees in you." I just look at her. "You know who you are, warts and all, and you are comfortable with it .That's unusual in women three times your age."

"Thanks, I guess." It's a flattering picture, if a little unexpected. "I'll take your word for it."

"But the reason I laughed is the similarity between your situation and my own."

"Your situation?"

"It's a long story, that I wouldn't mind sharing. Want to go for dinner after my shift?" She looks at the wall clock. "I'll be done in forty minutes."

It's a hard question. I need to get back to Rachel's side, but I'm not ready to face Lucas. Do I really want Allie as a friend? She is looking at me patiently, a small inscrutable smile in her face, waiting for a reply. My gut tells me to trust her, that she is one of the good guys. "All right."

Allie leads me to a small Italian joint on Second. She orders some antipasto and a bottle of Chianti. The artichokes the hard crust bread calm my stomach, while the red wine takes some of the edge off my nerves. We choose entrees, a mushroom risotto for her and spaghetti putanesca for me.

"It was almost seven years ago. I was about a year younger than Lucas is now, when I came to Princeton for a very prestigious fellowship on diagnostic medicine. Working under a world-class diagnostician named Gregory House."

"I'm guessing he's the guy. Your boss and teacher."

"That's right. He's twelve years older than me. Drop-dead gorgeous, in a scruffy sort of way. A couple of inches shorter than Lucas, large blue-gray eyes that see right through you. In good shape, but physically damaged. A permanent limp, a cane, cronic pain that he self-medicates with heavy painkillers. The smartest man I've ever known. Childish, self-centered behavior, huge defensive walls hiding a tender heart. After one week I was done, wrapped up and tied with a pink bow."

I can't avoid smiling. "So?"

"At first, I was just a naive kid. I know that sounds weird. I had done college, medical school and a three-year residence in endocrinology. I was a widow."

My eyes open wide. "A widow?"

"I fell in love during medical school. Robert. He was under treatment for cancer. He died two years later."

"Why do you say you were a kid?"

"Because I was! Nerds that become doctors can be pretty sheltered. You convince yourself it's all high ideals, you know, saving lives using your intelligence and skill. You buy into a ton of naive crap. When I met House it was a revolution. Not only I was incredibly attracted to him, he turned my well-ordered, carefully built professional personna inside out. You'll never believe what is the first lesson in House's training school."

"What is it?"

"Everybody lies."

I laugh. "I know that."

We only saw what people call medical puzzles. Patients with conditions nobody can figure out. Nobody but bad boy genius Dr. House and his team of trained monkeys. In these cases, you have to distrust everything. The patient, the family, the history, the labs, the other doctors, and yourself."

"So, he teaches distrust, and you learn it."

"Not a good starting point."

"And you say I can trust Lucas... never mind. Time passes, and, at the end?"

"He respects me, all right. I think he is afraid he is not enough. Too old, too damaged."

She brightens when talking about him. "How does he really feel about you?"

She preens a bit. She knows she's hot, the slut. I picture an understated, sexy outfit that would suit her, to turn the head of her bad boy genius. "He is not oblivious. As I said, at first, he had no respect for me. I was just kid he had to teach. After a couple of years, things begun to change, but it got complicated. He pushed me away. An ex-wife showed up. He got into trouble with his pain pill addiction. I got married to a co-worker..."

"Wait a second. You did what?"

"I know. It was stupid. It didn't last."

"Shit, Allie. Why did you do it?"

"At one point I had just given up. This stupid guy was really in love with me, and it begun to feel good to the ego, to have him around. Also, it drove House crazy."

"And then divorce. And you left."

"That's right. That was about a year ago."

"Do you think you guys still have a shot? After all this time?"

This time the smile is sad. "He's sniffing around. He wants me back in Princeton. In other words, maybe."

"Wow. Good luck."

"Thanks. The tricky thing is that he is broken. He cannot be trusted. I don't know if it can work. And I have no idea if I can ever be enough for him."

I touch her arm. "I can't imagine you not being enough. For anybody. He's a lucky guy."

She smiles again at me. "I'm beginning to get the same impression about you."

We skip dessert, and she pays for the meal. We stand outside the restaurant.

"Thanks. This really helped."

She gives me a kiss in the cheek. "Look, I here for you. If you need a friend..."

"We should do this again. And I'd love to meet your bad boy genius someday."

She laughs. "I'm not so sure you'd enjoy the experience. He's not housebroken."

"I don't frighten easily."

"I'm sure you don't. Good luck, Brooke."

"You too."

I get home to an empty apartment. It's close to nine. I climb up the stairs two steps at a time and knock. Lucas answers, a serious look in his face, but a slightly ironic tone in his voice. "Hello, Miss Davis."

"Mr. Scott. How's your patient?"

"Crampy, sad and medicated. I've just served us some soup. Care to join us?"

"Thanks, but I had dinner with your ex."

He seems surprised. "Really?" A small smile floats around his lips. "Should I be worried?"

I laugh. "No. We mostly talked about her. No details about your dirty sex life."

His eyes flash and latch onto mine. "I'm sorry to hear that. Her reviews should be..."

"Good?"

A satisfied smile. "Rave."

"Ego, much?"

"Just a fact."

I touch his chest with the tips of my fingers, seeking his warmth and his heartbeat. "I can hardly wait to sample the goods."

He breaks eye contact and steps back a bit. "I'm glad you went to her. She's one of the good guys, and you both can use a friend."

"True." I grab his arm and pull him to the kitchen area. Rachel is sitting at the table, wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts. Her hair tied in a simple ponytail, and her eyes look glazed. She is focused on the soup in front of her.

"Hey, girl."

She turns to me and manages a weak smile. "Hey."

"How are things?"

"Lucas has been taking good care of me. Where have you been?"

"Out and about. I needed a little time to think."

"And?"

I smile. "We'll see. We should focus on you, though."

"I'm finishing this soup and I'm going back to bed. I think I'm staying here tonight." She looks at Lucas.

"That's fine, Red. Stay as long as you want."

"When do you go back to work?"

"Next week. Lucas says that in two or three days I should be good as new. At least physically. Well, almost. Two weeks without intercourse."

Lucas puts his arm on her shoulders, in a half hug, and she leans on him. "I'm trying to convince her to see a therapist. Talk about things."

"He is right, you know. It couldn't hurt."

"This is not really my thing."

I glare at her. "I could always call Mountain to come for a visit."

She looks panicked. "Brooke!"

Lucas turns to me. "The father?"

I nod. "They love each other. But I think he would never forgive her."

"All right, you whore!" She turns to Lucas. "Will you set up an appointment?"

"Of course."

I turn to Lucas. "Do you have any fruit?"

"A ripe mango, strawberries and a cantaloupe. Serve yourself."

"Do you guys want some?" They both nod.

I prepare three bowls of fruit while they finish their soup and I sit with them.

We distract ourselves talking nonsense while we eat the fruit. Rachel shuffles to her room. Lucas gives her some medicine and tucks her in, while I put the dishes in the dishwasher and clean up. Lucas comes back into the kitchen. "I gave her a sedative. If you want to say goodnight, I'll finish cleaning up."

I enter her bedroom and her eyes are already half closed. "Good night, slut."

"He's a great guy, whore. Get your head out of your ass."

I pass my hand through her hair, and I give her a kiss in the forehead. "I'll try. Sweet dreams." Her eyes close.

When I get back to the kitchen, Lucas is putting away the rest of the soup. "She's asleep. Thank you."

"Nothing to thank."

"She's the only family I have. Thank you."

He shrugs. "You're welcome."

We get out of the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of scotch from his bookcase. "A nightcap?"

I shake my head. I need a clear head for what comes next. He serves himself and sips, staring straight at me with a kind smile on his face. I try to get a hold of the desperate longing I have for him, and put it all in a box, and tuck it away, in the back of my head.

"Do you want to fuck me? I'm yours if you do."

A concerned crease appears between his eyes, and his smile disappears. "Of course I want to fuck you."

I begin to undo the buttons of my blouse. "Let's do it, then."

He comes close and grabs my hands, still looking straight into my eyes. "I want a lot more than fucking, Brooke."

"I'm a slut, Lucas. I fuck boys. That's all I have to offer right now."

His lips turn into a thin slash, as the crease between his eyes deepens. "I'd rather wait, then. Until you have more to offer."

I pout, and I can see the struggle with his own desire. Oh, he wants me. I know he does. "It may never happen, you know."

"I'll take that chance."

I nod, and I allow my heart to soar a bit. This is going to follow my timing, at least for now. "I'd like to take you out on a date."

His face relaxes. "I'd like that."

"Friday. Seven. Dress casual."