The Gauntlet

Chapter 10

House leaned back in Wilson's desk chair. "I have to give Cuddy a decision by Friday or she'll take my parking spot."

Wilson continued to examine his patient's x-ray films on the light box hanging on his wall across from his desk. "Have you decided who you're going to pick?"

"Nope," he said popping the 'p'. Distractedly he fiddled with a pen rolling it between his thumb and forefingers.

"You haven't narrowed it down even a little bit?"

"Nope," he repeated.

"You've assigned them points I've heard," Wilson placed his hands on his hips and looked at him.

"A little blackbird tell you that?" he raised an eyebrow at him. Foreman and his righteous attitude.

"Yeah, something about you playing games with a patient's life," Wilson said in mock horror. "I said, 'I couldn't believe you would stoop to such irresponsibility'."

"I'm not being irresponsible, I know every move they're making," he argued tossing the pen onto the desk. "I'm exercising the spirit of competition."

"So who's in first?" Wilson asked curiously bringing his attention back to the x-rays.

House frowned and ran his hand over his forehead. "Thirteen."

Wilson arched an eyebrow at him over his shoulder. "Oh?"

"Oh nothing. Taub's next, but tat's because he's keeping Foreman off my ass," he said. "Kutner then CB."

Wilson flicked off the light and pulled the films down replacing them into their folder. He peered at him from under his dubiously raised eyebrows. "Is Thirteen really in first or do you just want her to be there so you don't have to fire her?"

"She's the only one who's been right so far," he stated, albeit a little defensively. "She has the eyeball right now."

Wilson's brows furrowed in confusion. "I don't even know what that means."

"It's not important," he waved his hand at him dismissively. He breathed in a sigh. "Do you think my judgment is skewed?"

Wilson shrugged. "Do you think your judgment is skewed?"

"I'm asking you," he ground out frustratedly as he picked up the pen again and tapped it in a syncopated rhythm on the edge of the desk.

Wilson placed the films on his desk and took the seat that House normally sat in. "Well, how do you feel about her?"

House pursed his lips together and took in a long breath. He let it out slowly wiggling the corners of his lips side to side in thought. Now there was a question he'd been mulling around his brain for the last five days. How did he feel about Thirteen?

Hmm… she was intelligent, beautiful, sarcastic, funny, sexy, mysterious and…

… possibly dying.

House didn't quite know how he felt about that. It confused him, tied him up in knots and made him want to hold her and tell it was all going to be ok; all of which were so very not him. Yet every ounce of who he was felt the desperate need to close himself off to her so he wouldn't become invested because inevitably she was only going to leave, by death or by choice before her disease ravaged her body. That was of course, if she were positive, which he didn't know because he'd thrown out the results like a lovesick idiot.

So, instead of all of those very convoluted things, he said, "She's a good doctor, not afraid to take risks, cares about doing a good job, about doing the right thing."

"I didn't ask you how you felt about her as a doctor, I asked how you felt about her, Remy Hadley, the woman."

"Who?"

"Thirteen, you ass," Wilson grumbled.

"I know her name," he muttered. "I just don't…"

There was a faint knock on the door and then it opened. Surprise, surprise, her ears must have been ringing.

Wilson turned toward the door and then brought his eyes back to toss a knowing glance at him.

He ignored Wilson and tipped his head at her and Taub who was now standing in the doorway with her. "Results of the malaria test back so soon?"

Thirteen opened her mouth and then closed it on a hesitant, yet frustrated sigh.

Taub inched forward. "We were wondering if you had the patient sent for any additional tests in the meantime?"

House started at them for a minute as they gaped expectantly at him for confirmation. He huffed a little chuckle. "You lost the patient."

"Well… we… um," she stammered, her neck flushing pink with embarrassment.

"Yes," Taub stated matter-of-factly.

House flung a glance at Wilson and picked up his cane. "Taub, you go check lost and found." He rose from the chair and limped around the large wooden desk. "Thirteen, you come with me…"

Wilson shook his head, his hands still on his hips. Avoiding his friend's reproof in his eyes, he escorted her out of the office and down the hall to his own.

He was curious about her insistence that Punk Rocker Dude's symptoms had nothing to do with the drugs. Maybe it was just to be the Anti-Cut-throat Bitch or maybe it was to get on his good side, though he didn't really think that was the case. If it were, she wouldn't have engaged in that verbal catfight with Amber the other day. No, there was something more. There always was with her.

"Why do you love drug addicts?" he asked sharply as he pushed the glass door open.

"I won't pigeonhole the patients, so that means I'm..."

"I'm perfectly capable of drawing my own conclusions," he cut her off and turned to look at her pointedly. "Are you capable of answering a question?"

She rolled her pretty gray-blue eyes at him and he thought back to the last time they stood like this when those eyes were stormy and full of hate directed at him. He pushed that regretful memory down and raised his eyebrows at her prompting her to answer his question.

"I think there's more to him than the drugs" she defended her position.

Casually, he leaned on his cane and stared at her. "Admirable. Why?"

She laughed a little under her breath. "I need a reason for doing something admirable?"

"There's always a reason," he countered. "He's a patient, you don't know him. Why do you like him?" He pressed curious to see how far he could go before she pushed back. "The alcoholic parent? Druggie youth? There's no such thing as a saint without a past."

"Or a sinner without a future," she fired back with a smirk. Wait… Were they still talking about the patient now? Because with the little smile she was giving him, he wasn't sure.

He shifted a little, noticing that he was standing very close to her once more. He could smell the faint cinnamon warmth of her perfume again. It was nice; he hadn't realized that he'd missed it.

"What makes you so sure that drugs are a mask for something else?" he questioned.

"Drugs are always a mask for something else," she declared confidently keeping her eyes trained on his, lifting her chin a little in a challenge.

He stared down at her. They were definitely not talking about the patient anymore…

"That's the dumbest thing I've heard in my life," he stated dumbly, only afterwards realizing that he sounded like an eight year old with that lame retort. He might as well have just pulled her saucy little ponytail. Dumbass…

She arched a finely sculpted eyebrow at him skeptically and gave him an unconvinced little smirk. He wriggled a little under her gaze however as he fought to maintain his ground. Smiling at him, she crossed her arms before leaving the office to go in search of Taub and their Druggie patient.

She had made him dizzy in 2.5 seconds flat.

Chuckling as he shook his head, he was continually surprised by her. Limping into the DDX room, he went over to the white board and picked up his favorite marker. He paused for a second, his marker hovering over the smooth surface of the board and then he changed her points to 102. She was right about the drugs. Drugs were not the root cause of what his guy had. Her instincts were good, though maybe a little Pollyanna. He smiled then to himself for some reason pleased with the outcome of that ridiculous conversation. As with all conversations with her, he got no real answers out of it, only double talk. But, he supposed he got a little bit of her personal take on him. Maybe she was right about that too…

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

A/N: Hey everyone…. Hope you are still enjoying the journey. I have a request. After the next few chapters, I'm going to be going off cannon to spin the growing romance between theses two and I'm going to need a beta to keep me on my toes. If you've got strong grammar skills and dig the relationship between House and Thirteen, and keeping it in character then you might be a big help to me. If you're interested, PM me. I'd love to talk more with you.