Chapter 14

Too Much of a Good Thing

We got off the subject of friendship and ate our dinners. House remained quiet for most of the dinner. Susan insisted on going to the movies with me whereas House ditched the movie in favor of doing just about anything other than sitting next to me in a dark theater. After the movie, Susan and I sat in my car in the garage of our lofts and talked until midnight. We both had a rough time. Susan was having a hard time getting back out into the world after the attack. For some reason, it had really bothered her that three people she more or less trusted, had tried to kill her. Me, on the other hand, was just plain lonely for company.

It made me think. Perhaps my attraction to House was triggered by my loneliness—the old, 'love the one you're with' syndrome. I needed to start making more of an effort to get out so that Susan didn't think she had to babysit me.

The next day there was a knock on my door. I got up and opened it to find Susan standing in the hall dressed to go outside in the cold, snowy weather. "Come on, get dressed. We're going for a walk."

I looked out my window to see nothing but white obscuring my view of the next building. "Are you joking? It's coming down hard outside."

"I love to walk when it's snowing. Come on Miss California; get your ass in gear."

I moped back inside and started layering my body. Once we got outside I noticed she had a little backpack with her which I was sure contained water, a billfold and other items for a long trek. We started walking through the park, talking about things that women talk about. Eventually the conversation came around to House.

"He confuses me. I don't know from one day to the next what's going on in that brain." Susan said with a hint of exasperation.

"He seems to really care."

"He never tells me anything."

"Has he told you that he loves you?"

"No."

"Oh." I was surprised. Susan is big on knowing just where she stands on a guy's emotional ladder.

"I'll tell you what really bothers me--his attitude towards you. Right after he was cleared of my attack, he said some rather complimentary things about you and then--bam!--he did a 180 degree turn. He was back to making fun of you. I don't know why he doesn't like you."

"Probably because I got him fired."

"That was years ago and he's gone through better hospitals than that and now he's king of the hill at PPTH. He has nothing to complain about. You did him a favor by getting him fired."

"Still, he strikes me as having a long memory."

"Perhaps, but if he'd only get to know you."

I shrugged and then shivered, pulling my scarf around my neck as a mean wind picked up. "You know I'm not exactly sure how I feel about him. I thought we had called a truce too, but obviously I was wrong. It's clear he doesn't want to be around me."

"So you're okay with him?"

I had to lie. In the flattest voice I could manage I said, "I'm ambivalent."

"Well, that's to be better than running into your room and slamming the door every time Greg walks in."

I chuckled. "Yes, I have made progress."

"I'm so sorry I haven't been around. I let my relationship with Greg and my panic attacks after the stabbing keep me from being a good friend to you. I dragged you out—"

"Whoa, did you just say that you had panic attacks?"

She nodded. "I was having them every night before I went to bed. If it wasn't for Greg talking me down, helping me, I don't know what I would have done."

"You could call me!" My voice was a little taut considering I was upset that she didn't think she could talk to me about it.

"When they hit me it was always late at night and Greg was there, he took care of me. But I didn't want to go out in case one hit while I was out. I don't have them as frequently now."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was embarrassed. I've always been so strong, fearless, but this just took the wind out of my sails."

I grabbed her and hugged her. "I'm so sorry. I should have checked in with you." I wanted to tell her the truth. It was Greg I was avoiding, not her. I didn't want to be around a man who could kiss me like that and then call me every cruel thing in the book as if I were gum under his shoe.

"Hey, it's okay; we'll move forward from here."

I looked her in the eye. "I'm glad that Greg was there for you."

"Me too."

"So have you told him you love him?"

She shook her head. My jaw dropped. "What? Why?"

"It's never felt right. I really care about him; sometimes I'm in love with him. But he's such a prickly pear and such a loner sometimes. It's like he's in his own world most of the time and I'm not allowed in. He's always working or reading medical journals or playing piano. And then, when we do socialize, he rubs everyone the wrong way. It's hard to take him anywhere."

I started laughing even though the moment was a serious one. "I'm sorry. It just that it reminds me of the parable of the snake and the turtle—"

She smirked and nodded. "I knew he was a snake when I let him ride on my back."

"Yeah, that one."

"I agree. But I don't know where to go from here. I care too much to break it off, but I don't know how long we can go on like this without making some changes."

"Oh, I don't know Suz, I don't think Greg House does "change" too well."

She started laughing. "Tell me about it. You wouldn't believe what a creature of habit he is."

"I think I would. Suz, my feet are getting cold, can we go back? I'll make you some hot chocolate."

"I brought some in my thermos in the back pack."

"That's really nice, but I'd still like to drink it somewhere warm."

She grinned and nodded.

I was in the middle of prepping for surgery when my surgical nurse banged on the door. "We've got trouble. House is trying to push his way into our O.R. but we're all set up for our patient."

"What!" I was at the sink scrubbing, holding my hands up as the water ran down to my elbows and dripped off onto the floor. "Damn him." Bumping my butt against the door, it opened and I found my intern with his arms spread across the doors to the O.R. and the resident screaming at House and Chase.

Greg yelled back, "What about -- 'He's dying'-- that you don't understand?"

"My patient's heart could give out any day. He needs this operation." I screamed.

"Yeah, well my patient's appendix just burst and the other three operating rooms already have patients in the middle of operations."

"So the great diagnostician failed to diagnose appendicitis?" I yelled.

House motioned over at Chase, "No, the great surgeon failed to."

"Oy, wait a minute, Thirteen was the last one to –"

I held up a hand to stop Chase. The reality was that House's patient did trump mine, but I hated him for that, he knew I'd give in. "Gary, Luke, back away. Chase, go scrub up and let me know when you're done. Do you want Gary to assist?"

"Sure." Chase nodded, knowing that I was being generous.

My intern looked befuddled.

"Get in there and scrub up, Gary. You need the practice. When he's done, start prepping the O.R. for our surgery. Luke, you notify the surgeons behind us that there's going to be a two hour delay down the line. Greg, you're buying me lunch."

"What?"

"Don't 'what' me…I'm hungry and you're buying me lunch."

He hesitated, but then he nodded. We went down to the cafeteria and I piled up on the most expensive food offered. I waited until he reluctantly pulled out his wallet and paid $16.93 for my lunch.

"You didn't get anything?" I asked.

"I figure I'll share yours."

"Yeah? Well you figured wrong." I took a seat and he sat across from me, staring around the room, avoiding eye contact.

"Greg, why do you hate me so much?"

"Huh? Sorry, wasn't paying attention, I was just pondering why you're so fat, but looking at that plate I think we both know why."

I grabbed a fry and purposefully stuck it in my mouth.

"You want to know why I can't stand you?"

I nodded.

"You're boring, opinionated and sometimes, downright idiotic. I might be nicer if you were smarter, but as it stands, you're a few fries short of a Happy Meal."

House didn't think I was stupid and we both knew it, but he felt a real need to try and hit my buttons if he could and, for most women, making fun of their appearance and their intelligence usually does the trick.

"Oh grow up, Greg. You're just a disappointed narcissist."

The edges of his lips curled involuntarily as he leaned half way across the table. "Well, you're slower than a herd of turtles making their way through chunky peanut butter."

I leaned in, "You have all the maturity of a wine that was bottled yesterday."

He studied my face and for a second I thought he might kiss me, but he pulled back and shook his head. "This is all so exciting, but I have to go wash my hair." Jumping up he took off towards the door.

As he left the cafeteria, I stuffed half a banana in my mouth and pouted. I was confused. He just spent twenty minutes dipping my pigtails in the ink well and then left without inviting me to the school dance. Did he really hate me? Probably.

"Greg says you stiffed him for lunch today."

"I made him buy me lunch for usurping my O.R. I bought a huge lunch just to put a hole in his pocket. Is he mad?"

"I don't think so. He just said he knows why you're so fat."

I rolled my eyes.

"I know. In fact, you look like you've lost weight."

"Only a couple of pounds."

"I found a man for you."

I choked on my Diet Coke. "You did?"

"He's dreamy. He's an Osteopath."

"Really? How interesting."

"He's helping me treat my patient's lymphoma."

"Does he have a name?

"Paul St. John. He's about forty, very handsome, kind and funny. I can't get over how gentle he is with the kids he treats. He's coming over for dinner tomorrow night and so are you." I also invited Wilson and his new girlfriend. Be there at seven."

"Oh, God. I wish you would have checked with me before you did this."

"You would have said no."

"Yeah, you're right."

I spent half an hour picking out what to wear and ended up slipping on my designer jeans and a deep blue silk blouse. I knew Susan would pass out when she saw me, but I just didn't feel like dressing up. Taking a bottle of wine as a hostess gift to Susan is like giving the queen costume jewelry. So, I always take her desert. I had baked a fruit strudel with custard, kiwis, strawberries, blueberries and banana. When I knocked on the door, House opened it, looked down at the strudel, took it from me and closed the door. It happened so quickly I wasn't sure what to do. I knocked again. This time Susan opened the door shaking her head. She was in a very sexy jumpsuit with a draped top that showed plenty of cleavage. Her hair was up on her head with tendrils dripping down delicately in the back. She looked beautiful.

"He's a nuisance. You made my favorite strudel! I love you!" She grabbed me, hugged me and then pushed me back a few feet into the hall to examine me. "You look like crap. Come on, I've put an outfit out on my bed for you."

I followed her into the bedroom.

"Now don't come out until you've put it on…the jewelry is on the dresser." Susan closed the door leaving me alone in the bedroom.

I looked at the outfit and was a little surprised, in the mid of winter she had me in a satin halter top with black palazzo pants. The halter plunged past my breasts making me feel both sexy and embarrassed. My ankle boots weren't the best fit for the pants, but they weren't the worse. The earrings dangled almost to my shoulders and the lipstick that had a post-it on it that read, "Put Me On" was a pretty coral that looked good with the spring green top. I played a little with my hair and when I stepped out of the room I felt like a model--the first time in my life I felt just as hot as Susan. My shoulders were pulled back and I tried to "own" the outfit.

Greg was in the kitchen leaning up against the counter drinking a glass of what must have been a very expensive red wine when I walked out. He took one look at me and burst out laughing, wine coming through his nose.

Susan immediately turned to see what he was laughing at, realized that it was me and then slapped Greg's arm. "Greg? Stop that!"

My heart stopped and I could feel myself blush from head to toe.

"Look at her. She's a Susan wannabe!" He said in his defense.

I guess the look on my face showed just how humiliated and hurt I was because Susan shook her head slowly. "Oh, Greg, that's really cruel."

It was cruel, but even crueler considering it was coming from Greg. I turned and ran back to the bedroom, grabbed my own clothes and hightailed it down the stairs to my flat, locking myself inside. Safe in my home, I vowed that I'd never, ever go out again.

I took off Susan's clothes as fast as I could and even broke a strand of the dangling earrings trying to remove them so quickly. I grabbed a robe and wrapped myself like a cocoon to keep me away from all the predators and cruel assholes.

There was a knock.

I didn't answer.

Susan's muffled voice came through. "Finley, sweetie, please come back, please?"

I didn't answer.

"Honey, he's a jerk sometimes. I'm really sorry. Please let me in."

"Susan, just go away. I'll return your things tomorrow."

"I don't want them, you keep them."

"No. I'm not a Susan wannabe."

"I know you aren't. Please open the door, please."

"Just let me be for now. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"But sweetie, we have a really nice guy coming over to meet you. Come on."

"I'm already undressed and in my pajamas. Just tell him I have a stomach virus or have House explain how I'm a runner-up version of you. I don't care."

"Oh, Fin. I'm really sorry."

Nothing more was said, I heard the footsteps going away from the door. I didn't even feel like eating even though a few minutes ago I was starving. I grabbed a glass of wine and sat down with my laptop in front of the television and started Googling positions in California. I heard something, but I wasn't sure what it was. Turning around, I looked down the hall at the front door and freaked out as I saw it open. I put my laptop on the coffee table and looked around for a weapon only to see the cane come through the door.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Get out of my flat before I call the police."

"Right, then you'll have to explain why I have a key to your place."

I flinched. "How did you get a key to my place?"

"When you gave me one while I was staying here."

"But I got it back—oh, you made a copy?"

He walked over to the couch and sat down, nodding as he did. "Don't feel bad, I have a key to Wilson's too."

"Yes, but I took back my permission for you to use a key when I got the key back!"

"Really, I didn't hear that. I voluntarily gave you that key if you remember."

"But—" It didn't matter, I wasn't going to win. I collapsed on the sofa at the other end away from him. "Just give this one back and leave—now."

"I can't go back without you or my relationship with Susan is over."

"Good." I said with as much contempt as I could muster.

"Maybe good for you, but I need this."

"You're an ass and a jerk, you don't deserve Susan."

"I'm an ass because I told the truth?" He rolled his eyes and tsked at me. Turning on the couch he threw his hands up in exasperation. " Why do you let Susan dress you? You looked hot in your jeans and top when you showed up tonight. It looked like you, not some Barbie Doll. It's just a dinner party. I'm in jeans. Half the people up there are in jeans. Only Susan can get away with looking like she stepped out of a Hollywood studio and that's because we expect it from her. You're real. Just be you."

"I'm not good enough being me. At least, I feel that way. I always lose out to her."

His face softened. "You're going to find someone who wants you because you do wear jeans, you are blunt, pragmatic, loygal and you're fierce when you have a goal. I've never met someone who has so much confidence on her own and so little around her best friend."

"It's because Susan and I can let down our guards around each other. I can't be a rock 24/7…I need to be weak some of the time."

Greg thought about it and gave me the tiniest nod of understanding. "I liked you better when we were in the car running around Philadelphia playing Myrna Loy to my William Powell."

"We had a common goal; it was easy to like each other then. Not so easy now."

"Bull. Look at you. I walked in here and your entire body was tense, ready to pounce. Your jaw was locked, eyes razor sharp. In less than five minutes you've relaxed, your body language has changed completely. You feel at ease around me."

"You do too!" I said defensively.

He threw his head back and laughed. "Yeah, I admit it. We're better together one on one. Whenever we're in a crowd I just feel the need to go for your throat."

"Why?"

He looked intently at me. "I don't know. I just don't know. From day one when you were a resident there was something about you that made me want to take you down a few notches."

I shook my head. He was being honest with me, but I still didn't have any answers. I did feel a connection with him. It felt like when we were back running around trying to prove him innocent. I think he felt it too because we both just sat there for a minute without saying anything, sadly enjoying just being in the same room with each other.

"You said you need this. Why?"

"Need what?"

"Your relationship with Susan."

"I'm fifty, I don't want…" He ran out of steam.

"To end up alone? I know what you mean. I thought by now I'd be running around with a couple of kids in the backseat. Instead I'm still relying on Susan to pull someone for me."

House shook his head. "Susan is gorgeous, smart, she's a nine. But not every man out there wants a Susan. There's lots of guys who want someone who isn't high maintenance and Susan is high maintenance."

I chuckled. "Yeah, she is. But she knows she's high maintenance and she's trying hard not to make you her maintenance man…so to speak."

"You aren't high maintenance and there's lots of guys out there who are going to find that more attractive than being a nine on the looks scale. Are you feeling it girlfriend?" He said in his best Monique accent.

I nodded.

"Now I don't mind if you come up in your robe as long as I get to pull on the belt, but you might want to change. I'll see you in five?"

I took a deep breath. "I guess."

He got up and pocketed the key covertly as he walked by the end table. I was going to say something, but it didn't really matter. I had a feeling he'd just poach Susan's key to my flat from her key ring if he wanted to get back into my flat.

I went into the bedroom and started to put the palazzo pants back on, but I heard Greg's voice and the genuine feeling behind the words. "You looked hot in your jeans and top when you showed up tonight. It looked like you, not some Barbie Doll." I grabbed the jeans and put them on with Susan's halter top…because, well, I really liked the top and felt hot in it.

I squared my shoulders and made my way back up to the flat. Susan practically flew into my arms to welcome me. "I didn't believe he could do it! I never thought you'd ever come back for Greg!" She pulled back and looked at me. "Oh? You wore the jeans."

"Yeah, I wore the jeans because I rock them."

She tilted her head as if she didn't understand me, but then her smile popped back on her lips and she nodded. "You do… you really do. That outfit looks much more like you."

She dragged me into the living room and standing there was the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. Imagine Louis Jordan when he was young with crystal blue eyes and an incredible physique. He was probably forty and when he smiled…everything in my groin lit up. I didn't even know if he sounded like Donald Duck and I was ready to run off with him to the nearest bedroom. The man dripped sex appeal.

"Finley Doyle, this is Paul St. John."

And then he opened his mouth and the most delicious British accent came out. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. Susan can't say enough good things about you."

"Oh, as long as she says good things and not that I'm a good girl." I said with a slightly naughty grin.

I saw Greg's eyebrows go up and his head pull back in surprise. A slightly appreciative grin crossed his face and…he winked at me!

I guess Susan thought that Greg and I were the best of friends now because she sat him next to me and Paul on my right. Wilson, Cuddy and their guests lined the opposite side of the table. All night long Greg made rude comments about me and just about everyone else secretly in my ear so that only I could hear them. I kept suppressing laughs all night. I felt like we were in a bunker together.

After several glasses of wine, I was no longer suppressing my laughs. I just giggled for the next fifteen minutes until I felt a hand on my back, and not just a hand on my back, but a finger drawing along my shoulder blade. I was hoping it was Paul, but I couldn't be sure so I looked around and discovered that it was Paul. When I looked back at House he was watching Paul doodle on my back and giving me a look that seemed to say he was amused.

When my gaze met Paul's he stopped, pulled his arm from around the back of my chair and blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't even realize I was doing that."

I giggled, "It felt good."

He grinned and then leaned in. "Would you like to go out next Friday?"

I don't know why I blushed, but I did. "Sure."

"Give me your number and address; I'll pick you up at seven."

Eventually we all made our way to the living room where Paul and I spent most of our time on the sofa talking about movies and politics. I don't think either of us lost any respect for the other even though our opinions differed on several subjects. Greg went off in the corner and played piano. When it was all over I floated home, happy that Greg had talked me into going back to the party.