Cuddy frowned at the navy blue scarf around my neck. "Is it that cold in here?"
"I think I might be coming down with something," I lied. "Better to be safe than sorry."
"Yes, Dr. Wilson is so delicate," Greg smirked as he limped down the corridor with me.
"Is that a rash?" She stared at the right side of my face.
"Just a reaction to some new aftershave. It'll go away."
"We'll see about that," said Greg with a short laugh.
"And how about you, Dr. House," the Dean of Medicine thankfully shifted her attention away from me. "How are you feeling today?"
"I am utterly fantastic, thank you," he answered with a smile that was one hundred percent genuine.
"That's nice to hear," she said. "Just be careful you don't catch whatever your friend here seems to be coming down with."
"I gave it to him to begin with," he responded, looking right at me. "Maybe if I'm lucky I'll get it back."
The three of us stopped dead in the corridor. I desperately tried to disguise my laughing fit as a coughing fit while Greg pasted an expression of idiotic casualness on his face. Our boss split her crystal-blue gaze between us as if Greg and I had suddenly grown two heads each.
"Are you two okay?" Cuddy asked, furrowing her brow.
"We're just fine," Greg answered flatly. I stood behind him, trying to stifle my laughter. Easier said than done.
"If you're really sick I need to know."
"Dr. Wilson and I are fine, Dr. Cuddy."
"You said you gave him something. Do I even want to know what you really meant by that?"
"Probably not."
"Fine. I'm not going to ask."
"Your prerogative," Greg said in the same remarkably casual tone, still as a statue.
"Thank you for reminding me," Cuddy sighed, exasperated.
"You're welcome, Dr. Cuddy. This conversation has been stimulating, but I need to see if Tom's tox screen has come back yet."
"Tom?" she puzzled.
"Yeah, my patient, Thomas Lang." Greg reminded her, then started towards the elevator.
"You actually know the name of your patient?" She was stunned, or at least pretended to be.
"It makes it easier to keep track of them, don't you think? I usually try to keep the male and female ones separate. Or should we give them all a number and set it up like the Dewey Decimal System?" he spoke over his shoulder as Cuddy shook her head and continued down the corridor.
"That was subtle," I said, joining my friend at the elevator. "Are you going to write our names on the bathroom wall now?"
"Got a magic marker?"
"Greg..."
"You forget, Jimmy, I have no shame. Besides, you were the one cracking up over there."
"Yeah, well, what you said was funny and Cuddy's reaction was hilarious. I couldn't help it."
"So what exactly are you complaining about?" he asked as we stepped on the elevator.
"Well, if you don't mind, can we keep this low-key for a while? I kept waiting for you to tell Cuddy we were going to get married."
"Would that make you James House or me Greg Wilson?" he chuckled, and I had to laugh right along with him. "Jimmy, it's not like I'm going to jump you in the one of the operating rooms."
"I know that."
"Not unless you want me to, and there's not a heart transplant going on in there..."
"Greg, for crying out loud..."
The elevator dinged and we got out, heading towards his office. Mercifully, the halls were relatively empty.
"You going to wear that scarf all day?" Greg asked in that damnable casual tone.
"No, and since there were no turtlenecks to be found or borrowed, I guess I'll have to put a band-aid on my neck," I said, trying to sound impassive and completely failing at that simple little task. The apathy just couldn't flow out me the way it did out of Greg, especially when I really needed it to.
"Why don't you just wear a sandwich board with 'I Have A Hickey' emblazoned on it and get it over with."
"Just wait," I said as we stopped at his office door. "Your turn will come soon enough."
"Is that a threat?" he asked.
"It's a promise."
"I'm holding you to it," Greg smiled, then took the scarf from my neck and wrapped it around his. He turned my head to the side and admired his handiwork. "What's it going to be?"
"What do you mean?"
"Would you like me to continue to be 'too much', or would you rather settle for 'not enough'?"
