Chapter 3
House sat at his piano that evening, not really wanting to play, but his fingers seemed to take on a life of their own as they played the melody from that damn song over and over whilst he pondered on events from the night before.
He couldn't, no, wouldn't let her get under his skin. She was a busybody who interfered in his day to day life. Yet, he knew this wasn't true. When he was deep in thought, a coffee would suddenly appear at his side, sometimes even a sandwich, and he knew it had to be from her. These things didn't happen before she came. His notes were always typed up and he knew that he could put his finger on any one of them and know they were as up to date as they could possibly be. She must work for hours after he'd gone home keeping up with the twists and turns of the cases he'd taken on. He'd tried to make her life as difficult as possible but he knew deep down that his team, and ultimately his patients, were the ones that would suffer if they didn't help her out. No wonder she'd got on so well with them, they knew his assistant better than he did.
He walked through the doors the next morning, determined to give Nicky a chance. His beeper going off took him straight to the ward and he walked towards his team noting their grave faces.
"What's up?"
"We tried, but we just couldn't get his heart going," Foreman said. "We've just lost him."
"Did the test results come back?" House asked, looking from one to the other.
"Yep, but there was too much heart disease, the guy didn't stand a chance. He was too weak for surgery, he started shutting down last night and we couldn't do a thing to reverse it."
They looked at him despondently.
"Okay, people, these things happen," House said quietly, "we can't win them all."
His team followed him back to his office to write up their notes.
"Shouldn't the Brit be doing that?" House said irritably, "After all, that's what she's paid for."
"She's got this morning off," Cameron replied, "you authorised it. I'm sure she'll catch up later."
"Probably when you've gone home," Chase muttered under his breath, but loud enough for House to hear, and the truth of it stung.
At the same time, Nicky was in Wilson's Examination Room. He was reading her notes as she sat on the bed waiting patiently until he looked up.
"So you had a mastectomy two years ago," he said.
Nicky nodded.
"How are you feeling, in your general health I mean?" Wilson said.
"Fine," Nicky replied, "listen, would you prefer it if I transferred to another hospital? I mean, when I moved to New Jersey from Philadelphia, I had to register somewhere. I didn't realise that you were an Oncologist at first. Do you want to pass me on to one of your colleagues instead? Maybe that would be easier."
He picked up on her anxiety and squeezed her shoulder gently. "I'm fine with it, if you are?"
Nicky sighed deeply, he couldn't tell if it was relief or nervousness that was going through her. She nodded and gave a ghost of a smile.
"Why don't you pop off that gown, see what's what," Wilson said reassuringly.
She took a deep breath and slowly slid the gown off, unable to meet his eyes.
"Lift your arm up, please," Wilson said pleasantly as he examined the tissue around the scar and under her arms.
She gave him another ghost of a smile. He'd seen the anxiety in her eyes hundreds of times. Women almost pleading to be given the all clear. He could almost hear her praying that he couldn't feel that lump.
"Do you examine yourself regularly?" Wilson asked, as he checked her other breast.
"Yeah," Nicky replied quietly.
"Yes, I see what you mean," he added, pressing a little harder. "And when did you feel this lump?"
"A couple of days ago, this was the earliest appointment I could get," Nicky replied.
"Okay, follow me and we'll get the mammogram sorted out and we'll be all done for now."
Nicky followed him over to the machine and winced a little as he positioned her breast and clamped the slides down on it.
"Sorry," he said apologetically.
"Don't worry, I'm used to it," Nicky smiled.
"Okay, good," he said, pulling her gown back over her shoulders. "You can get dressed now."
"Thanks, Dr Wilson."
"Why not call me James?"
Her head shot from around the screens. "Are you sure?"
He nodded then waited for her to sit down in front of him, "You're young to have breast cancer, how many of your family have had it?"
"Most of the women," she replied, "so the chances of me getting it were pretty high weren't they?"
Wilson nodded. "I'm sorry."
He looked at his watch. "You're my last patient, why don't I buy you lunch?"
She looked at him hesitantly before agreeing, "Okay, but I've got to get back to work soon."
It was such a warm day that they decided to sit outside and soak up the rays.
"Does anyone else know about the cancer?" Wilson asked when they were comfortably seated.
"Here, you mean?" Nicky asked.
Wilson nodded.
"Only Dr Cuddy, and I asked her to keep it quiet," Nicky replied. "I've had enough of everyone pussy footing around me. I've beaten it and now it's time to move on."
"Well, you can count on me not to say anything too," Wilson smiled reassuringly, he loved patients that had the right attitude.
"Thanks."
Nicky noticed House walking towards them, holding a large drink.
"You two look cosy," House said when he reached them. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down opposite them, looking from one to the other.
"I'd better go," Nicky said, getting up. "It doesn't do for the boss to see you sitting around doing nothing." She cringed as she said it, but couldn't help herself, he was so obnoxious sometimes. "Thanks for everything, James. See you later, Dr House."
"So it's James, now is it?" House said when Nicky was out of earshot.
Wilson gave him what he hoped was a withering look, but House took no notice.
"I'm wondering if you're not trying to poach her, young Wilson," House went on sarcastically.
When he realised that he wasn't getting anything, House went for the direct approach. "So was it a lunch date that'll lead to dinner and something else?"
"Nope, I'm married, remember?"
"That hasn't stopped you before," House countered.
Wilson didn't dignify it with an answer. "I've got work to do," he said and got up to leave.
"Hang on, I'm coming with you."
"Okay, but this conversation is over, do you hear me?" Wilson warned.
"Loud and clear," House replied, "God, you're so tetchy at times."
