Chapter 35

"Greg, I'm going to make you happy."

Stacey's voice resonated through his brain, bursting his eyes open from his deep sleep. Damn! It had sounded so real! He felt a chill go down his spine as he sleepily wiped his hand over his stubbled face. He looked around the bedroom as the morning sun filtered through the balcony's door. He looked at his wife of the past two weeks as she slept cuddled against his side with her hand lying across his chest. He pulled it up and kissed it, then hugged her to him a little tighter. She roused slightly to glance at him then kissed his chest and nestled into her favorite spot and went back to sleep. He hoped he could find sleep that easily. He had at least another three hours before his usual rise, even though he knew Cameron would be getting up in an hour or so to feed the baby. Finally, after dry-swallowing two Vicodin, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

House was having an unusually bad day as he worked around Foreman and Chase. Everything irritated him. He was having regrets about his "agreement" with Chase as he glanced into the conference room at the younger doctor's now-crooked nose. It had been decided that Chase would not bring charges against House for breaking into his apartment and physically attacking him, as long as there would be no record in Chase's files about his tampering with hospital equipment, thus not only protecting his future prospects of employment, but also keeping his job at PPTH for now.

"So when are you scheduled for surgery?" Foreman asked Chase as they sat at the conference table.

"Not soon enough. I can't stand looking in the mirror anymore."

"Well," Foreman got to his feet and headed for the doorway. "I can't imagine it will be pleasant. A nose job always sounded rather disagreeable to me."

"I don't care how "disagreeable" it is. It can't be any worse than having it broken in the first place." Chase followed him out of the room and disappeared down the hall as they went to work in the clinic.

House picked up his oversized tennis ball and rolled it between his hands. He didn't expect any more trouble with the little prick, but just to stay on the safe side, he had Cuddy, Wilson and Foreman all keeping keen eyes on him. If he so much as sneezed the wrong way, he would be told about it in a heartbeat. He didn't care if the idiot worked around him anymore. Not since he noticed that he jumped every time House came near him. There was no point hiding his fear of the older doctor, and he made no attempt to. Instead, they worked on the cases as they came, and then would try to ignore one another the rest of the time. Just so he had a full understanding of his lack of a relationship with Cameron, House could almost tolerate the situation–almost. But that didn't mean he was going to make it easy on the wombat. He knew how to antagonize Chase and would use that power without hesitation.

As he rolled the tennis ball back and forth, his eyes moved to the photo on his desk and a peace filled inside of him. She really was a beautiful baby–he had to admit that. And she seemed to have taken to her father immediately. Now, at four months, she was very talented at lifting her head while on her tummy, and if he was in the room with her, she made a point of searching until she found him. All it took was a tiny grunt or squeak and her father lifted her to soothe her temper that she was beginning to show.

He suddenly had an overwhelming urge to talk to Cameron and see what they were doing. It was odd, actually, he never felt the urge this strong before. He leaned back until he was half-sitting on the edge of his desk, facing the conference room. He was just reaching for the telephone when he heard that voice again.

"Hello, Greg."

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He turned away from the telephone and looked at Stacey as she stood in his doorway. He couldn't believe the way she smiled at him, after all that she had done, she looked at him with such smugness–such confidence.

"Stacey," he said dumbly. He never expected to have to face her again. It didn't take long for his shock to turn to irritation. "What are you doing here?"

"I," she said as she came through the door and let it close behind her, then moved closer to him, "was in the area and decided to stop in and see if Lisa wanted to go for lunch. She was busy, so I thought I'd stop down and see James. I saw you as I was passing by. I wanted to see how you were holding up these past few months. You're looking well. Our little spat must not have been too much of an inconvenience."

"Spat? Inconvenience? Our "spat" was no inconvenience to me at all."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Although I thought you were being a bit irrational when you locked me into your bedroom."

"I hope Mark rescued you before you got too hungry."

"Mark was there within the hour. He sped the whole way. But then that's Mark for you; always so eager to please; always–too eager." She took a step toward him. "Not like you. You always had your self-pride."

"Not always. Sometimes too much self-pride can be crippling." He remembered how he had repeatedly begged for Cameron's forgiveness over the weeks after she returned home. "Sometimes a little self-depreciation can make things stronger."

"Greg, I know you're still angry, but that was always when we were at our best, wasn't it?" She moved up until she was standing between his legs and ran her fingers along the front of his shirt as if trying to straighten it for him. "I think we fought most of the time just so we could make up. Didn't we?"

"I think you better go."

"Come on, Greg. Let's not be mad anymore. I can understand if you felt you needed to stay with "her." I know what it means to be tied to someone by guilt." She moved even closer, until her thighs were brushing against the front of his pants. "Please, Greg. Lets go have lunch together. We can talk over old times."

"Stacey." He turned his face away from her.

"Come on, you know you want to." She rested her hands on his waist, then leaned in to whisper. "Mark need never know."

"And what about Allison?"

"What about Allison?" She leaned back and looked at him. "I told you, I forgive you for your fling with her."

"My fling?"

"Mmm-hmmm," she murmured as she reached up and placed her lips against his. "I know it was only your way of getting through the hard times after I went back to Mark. How can I hold that against you?"