THis is the longest chapter yet...enjoy !!

Crazy busy this week...but I'll post as soon as I can!

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Chapter 25

His eyes darted to Lisa's peaceful face, assuring him that the woman in his arms was the woman he wanted in his arms. He had forgotten about his last dream, pushed it as far back into his mind as he could, hoping it had fallen out the other side. Apparently, it hadn't, and now he had another one to deal with.

Lisa was on her back, because her cast prohibited much movement, so Greg rolled to his side and pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply. There were plenty of anomalies in his dream that he both wanted and didn't want to figure out. He feared that if he figured it all out, he would fall for Stacy again, or some other weird thing would happen. He didn't want to screw this up.

So he began to think about the song he had written for Lisa days before, on the night of the accident. He wanted to play it for her, but he didn't want it to turn into some sappy moment. Just the thought of another sappy moment made him literally cringe. Lisa stirred slightly, a hand wandering to his back, but she didn't actually wake. In her slumber, she tried to roll over and woke when unsuccessful.

"Shit," she whispered into the dark, night air. One hand still on Greg's back, her other hand wandered down to her cast. Underneath, her leg itched like hell.

"Are you okay?" House whispered, pulling his face from her neck.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, babe, I didn't mean to wake you. I'm just not used to the cast."

"I was already awake." Greg laid his head on her upper chest, just below the base of her neck. They lay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth from each other. They both knew neither of them were asleep, but the silence was nice and they didn't want to break it.

"I love you," Lisa said into the night air.

He didn't want to say it, not again; he had said it too recently. He knew if he said it too much, it would become a chore, habit; it would lose meaning. He lifted his head and pressed his lips to hers instead.

*****

The next time he woke, the sun poured through He had shimmied higher up on the bed and Lisa's face was turned into his chest. He slid back down, his face millimeters from hers. Her smooth face, marred only by a scabbing gash on her forehead, filled him with a feeling he'd felt a lot lately, but never before that. It was amazing, freaky and scary all at the same time. He couldn't put words to it.

Lisa's lips contorted into a smile. "I can feel you staring at me." Her eyelids flickered open and her steely blue eyes met his. "Good morning."

"Good morning. How are you feeling?"

"My stitches itch. My leg itches. I'm itchy," she said with a laugh.

"Here, let me see," Greg pulled the hem of her tank top up her taught abdomen and revealed the white gauze covering her stitches. He carefully pulled the scotch tape and gauze off and examined the healing wound. "One sec," House said, rolling off the bed and limping out into the living room. He returned, walking with his cane now, and holding a roll of tape and a Ziploc he had snagged from the hospital.

"Thank you, Doctor," Lisa said with a laugh, once he was finished replacing the bandage.

"Anytime," House said, kissing her cheek, "anytime."

******

"So, for breakfast, we have cereal and, well, I think, not sure, but I think we also have some cereal," Greg said, leaning over the back of the couch next to where Lisa was sitting.

"That's a tough decision," Lisa said, "I think I'm gonna have to go with…cereal?"

"Good decision," Greg laughed and limped into the kitchen. Determined to not have to make two trips, he limped back into the living room with two bowls on his head, the cereal box under his arm, two spoons in the hand with his cane and the milk in the other hand.

"Eh? I'll wear this to the next hospital function," he said, motioning to the bowls on his head.

"You'll be the sexiest one there," Lisa said, leaning to help him put the stuff on the coffee table.

"You know it."

******

The days passed slower while Lisa was on rest, but neither of them complained. The time was nice, and though she didn't think it possible, Greg loosened up even more while they were alone together. At work, around his ducklings, he seemed pretty close to the same. Long before their relationship ever started, she always quickly dismissed any thoughts of the possibility because she figured he would be as big a jerk as always and she didn't want to have to deal with that. But this was different, way different; he was smiling, even happy, all the time. He didn't seem to hurt as much, proving that his pain really was psychological. She refrained from calling him out on it. He was doing favors for her, bringing her a blanket when she was cold, food when she was hungry; he wanted to do things for her. All was going much better than she ever expected it to.

She started getting worried on Friday. His cell phone rang early in the morning. He was still in bed, his arms wrapped around Lisa, so he chose to ignore it.

"Just answer it, it's probably important," Lisa muttered when it rang for the third time. House rubbed his eyes and grabbed the phone off the bedside table. "Ducklings" blared from the LED screen and he groaned as he rolled out of bed.

"What?" he barked into the phone as he closed over the door to the extra bedroom and headed into the kitchen.

"We need you to come in," Thirteen said.

"I'm off, probably for another week. I have Cuddy's permission," he grumbled.

"Yeah, but this is an important case. And it's your job. Put Cuddy on the phone, I'm sure she'd make you come in."

"Handle it yourself."

"House, we're talking about James Dreivon here. He gave the hospital two hundred million dollars last year and made a pledge to match it again this year."

"I don't really care. You guys can solve it," he said.

"But-" Thirteen started, but House had already hung up the phone.

Greg stumbled back into the extra bedroom to find Lisa sitting against the headboard.

"What's wrong?"

"They got a case, I told them to solve it themselves. Foreman's got the reins, it'll do him good. Maybe he'll start to appreciate how hard I work."

"You don't work hard!" Lisa said with a laugh.

"Oh," Greg said with another one of those smiles that had been popping up so much, "well maybe he'll start to think I do." He grabbed the Ziploc with the bandages, which were starting to dwindle, and was taping down the gauze as he did every morning when Lisa's cell phone went off from the bedside table on her side of the bed. "Diagnostic" shone from the screen and with a raised eyebrow towards Greg she flipped the razr open.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dr. Cuddy, sorry to bother you, but James Dreivon is sick and House refused to come in to work," Taub explained through the speakerphone.

"James Dreivon?!" Cuddy gasped with a stern look towards House.

"Oh, way to go, tattletale," House growled. Taub suppressed a laugh as he heard what House said. He'd always found House and his antics hilarious.

"We don't know what's wrong, so Wilson told us to call House."

"He'll be in ASAP. Thank you for calling me, Dr. Taub," she said into the phone. After she hung up, she turned to Greg, "do you know who James Dreivon is?"

"Vaguely," he groaned.

"He gave the hospital two hundred million dollars last year for a new radiology wing! And he promised to match it again this year if all was going well!"

"Sooooo?"

"So, you already cost us one hundred million. Go cure this guy and you better not mess it up!"

"Fiiiiiine," he said, sliding his arms around her waist, "but you owe me, big."

"Yeah," she said, stroking his scruffy cheek, "I owe you, but not for this." She guided his head until his lips met hers.

*

Ten minutes later, (there was a little procrastination), House was pulling on a Rolling Stones T and jeans. Once he was dressed, he popped some Vicodin and helped Lisa into the wheelchair. On Monday she would get her stitches taken out, and on Friday they should be healed enough for her to start using crutches. She was stuck in the wheelchair until then so her ribs had time to heal.

He left once he was sure she was comfortable and able to get around without too much trouble. Grumpy, he road his motorcycle through the warm summer air to the hospital.

**

At first, Greg answered her texts immediately. After about an hour, the replies stopped coming and he wouldn't answer his phone. After her third "call me and let me know how it's going" voicemail, she gave up trying.

She spent the day flipping through the channels. It took her twenty minutes just to get to the bathroom, so she didn't do much moving around. Although she tried not to, she found herself glancing at her phone every few minutes. She should've known this was what would happen. This was what how Greg House worked; he was nice when they were alone, but whenever work interfered he would get more distant. Probably for the better, considering the previous times when he was a jerk, it was usually during a stressful case. How would he act when they went out in public? She had all too much time to think about all this while she mindlessly flipped through channels.

On the other side of Princeton, House slammed his fist into his desk as Foreman presented another false test. He knew his phone had been going off in his office, but he didn't have time to deal with that now. They needed new ideas.

***

Thirty-six hours, three failed diagnoses and one successful one later, House was standing next to his motorcycle and was listening to his nine voicemails. Knowing she would be upset, he mounted his motorcycle and headed to headed to the nearest floral shop.

**

"C'mon," House argued with the proprietor.

"Sorry, we're closing up shop for the night," the guy replied.

"C'mon, I need twelve roses, it can't be that hard!"

"Sorry, we're closed."

"It's 7:59, you close at eight," House argued, getting more aggravated.

"Sorry."

"Listen, bud, sell me twelve roses before I let myself in and just take them!"

"If you did that, I'd call the cops," the guy growled. He tried to close the door but House's foot was in the way.

"Are heart problems in your family?" House asked, seemingly concerned.

"What?"

"I'm a doctor. You are showing signs of clubbing on your fingers, which is a sign of heart disease and ultimately heart failure."

"I don't buy it."

"This is serious, if you don't get checked out you will die!" Machiavellian ideas were floating through House's head.

"Well…" The guy was starting to give in.

"Look, get checked out real soon, but in the meantime, I've got these pills in the car that should get you better in no time. If you get the roses, I'll get the pills."

"Well…"

"I'm trying to save your life here."

"Fine. Go get the pills." House turned and limped back to his motorcycle, chuckling when he realized he had told the guy he had the pills in his car when he didn't even drive a car. He reached into the items compartment under the seat and found a half-empty box of tic tacs. He dumped his Vicodin in his pocket, ripped the label off and dumped the tic tacs into the orange bottle. When he returned to the doorway, the man was holding just one rose.

"I'm sorry, we only have one left."

"It'll do, I guess. Here." House tossed him the bottle, took the rose and started limping back to his bike.

"That'll be $2.49."

House turned around; he was already halfway to his bike. "No it won't be. I just saved your life." He mounted the bike, slid the stem of the rose down the front of his jacket for lack of a better place to put it and broke the speed limit the whole way home.

**

He made no effort to quiet his entrance into the house. He pulled off his jacket and hung it on the banister as he made his way into the living room, where he found Lisa fast asleep to the sound of the TV. He turned the TV off and sat down next to her; she had somehow managed to get from the wheelchair to the couch. He almost didn't want to wake her, but he knew he owed her an apology and he would probably chicken out if he waited for the morning. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her hard, grinning through the kiss when her lips started moving too. When they parted, Greg showed her the rose.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you back." All the anger she'd had before, all the worries: gone.

And from that moment on she knew that House was no longer a moping, miserable jackass, and that everything was gonna be okay.

*****

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