I was going to post tomorrow but I finished this chapter tonight, so here ya go...

It is now Saturday, the day after the party at John's old law firm. No House/Cuddy in this chapter I'm afraid.

It's all Wilson/Greene/Stacy. I realize some of my readers do not like the fact that I made Wilson gay but I think it's a nice twist to the character who we have grown to love over the past eight years.

I apologize for the delay in posting. This chapter was difficult for me to write just because there is a lot going on and I wanted to get all my facts right. If I'm wrong, I apologize. I really, really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Chapter 61:

Early Saturday morning in the confines of a one-bedroom apartment in midtown Manhattan, James Wilson stirred sleepily.

He opened his eyes and glanced at the naked body of the man sleeping next to him. He smiled a tiny reminiscent smile as he remembered the night before.

When the two men had arrived at John's apartment after leaving the party early around 11:30 P.M., they were hardly inside the door before they started to rip each other's clothes off one another.

Clothing littered the wooden floors of the hallway and bedroom as the two men assisted each other in removing the other's shirts, ties, pants and the like, while their mouths (and bodies) hungrily yearned for each other, staying within inches of one another.

Wilson smiled as he remembered the feel of his boyfriend's cock against his naked skin. He could still feel his lover's hot breath on his own neckline while John's cock pumped into his anus.

Bringing himself out of his thoughts, Wilson felt himself get hard, and with a small smile on his face, he turned and nuzzled his lips against his partner's bare shoulder.

When John failed to stir, Wilson crawled underneath the beige sheet. As he placed his mouth around the tip of John's limp cock and slowly started to engulf, a tiny smile began to form on John's lips, but his eyes remained closed.

Grinning but not saying a word, Wilson kept his mouth closed around his partner's cock, which was slowly starting to wake up.

"Come here," John demanded, his eyes still shut.

Obeying, Wilson moved his head up to the pillow and captured his partner's lips in a soft and tender kiss.

Opening his eyes, John grinned. "Now what did I do to deserve that early morning present?" Glancing down, he saw Wilson's hard, erect penis and he immediately turned onto his side.

After grabbing the bottle of lubricant off the bedside table and applying it generously, Wilson wrapped his arms around his lover's hips and thrust into his backside.

Grinning, John Greene closed his eyes, grinded his hips against his partner's, and enjoyed the ride.

Ten minutes later, in a tangled mess of sweaty bed sheets, John lay there, exhausted, with one arm around his partner, who was curled up close to his side.

Neither man spoke. They just lay there, enjoying the aftermath of what had just taken place between them.

John's fingers were slowly dancing up and down the length of Wilson's bare arm while Wilson's head rested on John's bare chest.

"That was…" John's voice trailed off, simply and happily exhausted.

His partner unanimously agreed.

"…yeah..." Wilson raised his head off John's chest and gave him a peck on the lips.

John smiled after they broke apart. "Thanks for coming last night, James."

"No," Wilson told him, "thank you." He paused. "…I'm still shocked that you used to work with Stacy."

John gave a soft chuckle. "That's what you're shocked at? Personally, I am a bit mind blown that she used to date House, and that you two know each other!"

"Small world," Wilson replied, grinning.

"I'll say," John agreed, as he moved the arm that wasn't caressing Wilson up behind him to rest underneath the pillow. "So…did she know him after whatever happened to his leg?"

Silence. Wilson didn't answer him for a moment. He hadn't talked about this with anyone. Even he and House hadn't spoken about what happened in quite some time. And quite frankly, he wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about it with the man laying next to him whom he called his 'lover'.

After a moment's pause, he finally decided to answer.

"During..."

John sensed the man's hesitation and said nothing. He did not want to push the issue. After all, it wasn't his place to do so.

"That's when you knew him as well, right?"

"Yeah." Wilson paused, "…I knew him before his leg though. House wasn't easy to get along with, even then. But…I'm even surprised she stayed five years, but what she did… that was the last straw in the relationship…" His voice trailed off as he took a trip down memory lane.

"I'm sorry," John told him, softly. "It's just...curiosity got the best of me..."

"No, it's okay. I just…I haven't spoken about this with anyone in a very long time. I'm not sure if I want to go into details, you know, to respect every -"

"I understand," John interrupted.

Picking his head up from John's chest, Wilson whispered, "Thank you."

Clearing his throat, he added, "I'm sorry you two didn't really get a chance to talk last night…"

"That's alright," replied John. "You had a lot to fill her in with. I'm glad she knows what's going on. Although… how does she know Lisa? From working at PPTH those years after dating House? I couldn't figure that one out. It sounded as if they knew each other well…"

Hesitating, Wilson sucked in a quiet breath. Did he really want to do this? Did he want to re-live all those years ago?

Letting out that breath, he fixated his gaze on his partner's stomach, letting his thumb and pointer finger absentmindedly trace circles around John's belly button, and started talking.

"When House had surgery on his leg, when he was with Stacy, Lisa was his doctor."

When he failed to get a response, Wilson glanced up and saw his boyfriend's mouth slightly agape.

"What?!"

Wilson nodded and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"House had an aneurysm in his thigh which led to an infarction. Muscle death…It went undiagnosed for days because doctors thought he just wanted drugs. Unfortunately, I couldn't diagnose him. Not my specialty…Because of the infarction, he wanted the muscle bypassed. He didn't want the amputation, but he wanted the use of his leg back."

When he stopped speaking, Wilson stole a glance at John, who was watching him intently, silently stunned at what he was hearing.

Taking another breath, Wilson continued.

"When he was in a coma to be temporarily relieved of the worst part of the pain from the bypass," continued Wilson, "…Stacy, who was his medical proxy and quite within her right, told Lisa she wanted a middle ground. Lisa suggested two choices: removing the muscle instead of performing the bypass, which may have killed him, or amputating the whole leg."

John swallowed hard. "So, Stacy, she… went against him?" he whispered.

"Yes. When House was in the coma, she chose the middle ground, the safer course. So, they went in, removed the dead muscle. When House woke up and found out what Stacy had done, he was furious. He blames her for now living in chronic pain and for the partial loss of use in his right leg. He has no thigh muscle because of her."

"So because of the decision Stacy made," John said, "House lives in chronic pain, is an addict and uses a cane to help him walk."

"Yes."

John was quiet as he stared up at the ceiling. 'It all made sense now.'

Wilson spoke again. "They are a bit more civil towards each other now though," he added. "I think because Stacy knows that he will never forgive her and she accepts that now…she was never mad at Lisa. Lisa was just doing what she had to do."

"Do you think Lisa forgives herself for what she did? I mean, she did agree with Stacy, otherwise she would have talked her out of it."

"Honestly, no, I don't think she forgives herself." Wilson moved his head off Johns chest and up onto the pillow, as he stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know if she necessarily agreed to what she had to do… I do think being together now with House, she knows she has to forgive herself eventually…He knows what she is living with."

Turning his head, John spoke. "You haven't talked about this with anyone?"

"Well," Wilson replied, "after the surgery and the break-up, House stayed with me. I didn't want him to be alone. He slept in my guest bedroom for months. I was there through it all. I was there through the anger and the pain, through the painkiller drug haze…I listened. I cared. I didn't judge him. I knew he had to vent and I was there, and he knew it. We talked about what happened….and then there came a time when he just stopped. Stopped talking. Shut himself out from everybody, including me…he would just stare at the wall in that guest bedroom. Some days he barely said a word. Other days, I don't know it was from the medication or from the physical pain, he would start yelling. Crying. Pissed off at everything because of what Stacy did to him. Hallucinating…I did my best to help him but…sometimes, it just…it just wasn't enough…"

Wilson realized that his voice had gotten hollow and was trembling. He stopped talking and realized his face was wet but didn't reach up with his hand to wipe the tears away. His mind flashed back to his apartment, when, more than a decade earlier and in between his marriages, he let House stay with him after the surgery.

When his voice was steady again, he continued.

"I haven't talked about this with House in a very long time. When I knew about him and Lisa getting together, I talked to him to see if what had happened in the past was going to get in the way of their relationship…I had hoped it wasn't…He didn't give me a straight answer. Big surprise." He chuckled softly and then continued.
"Him and Lisa, they just…they seem to "fit". They were meant for each other. Throughout all the crap, then and now…I didn't even know if they could work…but now, they seem stronger than ever."

As he stared at his partner open up to him like this, John had a deep, new admiration for the man lying next to him.

"Thank you," he whispered, after a few moments of silence.

"For?"

"For being so open," John relied, "So honest."

"You're welcome," Wilson told him, bending his head forward and kissing John softly on the lips.

Ten minutes later, John walked out of the foyer of the apartment after throwing on a dark blue t-shirt, a gray sweatshirt, a pair of jeans and loafers. For almost nearing the end of January, it was surprisingly warm enough not to wear a heavy jacket but it was brisk.

As he was locking the door behind him, he heard a voice call his name.

"John!"

John turned around. Stacy Warner was standing there in jeans and a black jacket.

"Stacy, hey!" He tried not to think it was a coincidence that she was the topic of conversation just moments ago and now here she was. John temporarily put it out of his mind as he made his way down his steps.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"Oh I just wanted to say bye before you and James headed back to Princeton."

"I was just running out to get coffee for James and myself. Walk with me?"

John and Stacy set out on 50th Street, making small talk as they turned onto Lexington Avenue. As they approached Starbucks, John brought up a topic that he had wanted to discuss with her the previous night but didn't get the chance to.

"Ever hear of a 'Steven Savoy'?"

"The lawyer?"

"Yeah," John replied as they walked into the coffee shop.

"I've dealt with him more than a few times," Stacy told him as they walked over to the line of people at the not-quite-so-busy-yet coffee shop franchise. "Why?"

Ignoring her question, John asked, 'What do you think of him?"

Surprised at the bluntness and specificity of the question, Stacy replied, "Steve is… aggressive. He stops at nothing. He … it's his way or no way."

Saying nothing, John looked up at the massive drink board up on the wall behind the counter and contemplated his drink options, just to give his brain something to focus on.

He had suspected that about the lawyer, and Stacy had indeed confirmed it.

"…John?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, John turned.

"Sorry, I was just…thinking." He quickly turned to the barista and ordered two medium house-blend coffees, black.

He stepped aside to let Stacy order. Once they paid, Stacy and John stepped off to the side to wait for their coffees.

"What's going on, John?"

"Nothing," he lied. "I just wanted to know what you thought of him."

Glancing at his warily, Stacy cocked an eyebrow. "John, when one lawyer lies to another lawyer…"

"You got me there…"

"Hypothetically," he continued, as he grabbed the two coffees sitting on the countertop, "if I had a case against a client he was defending, how likely is it that Savoy would go all in for his client, even if he knew he didn't have a chance? You know, make it seem like his client just made a mistake and make light of it..."

"And this is all 'hypothetical'?" Stacy asked warily as she too grabbed her small coffee.

"In a manner of speaking," replied John.

"Hypothetically," Stacy stressed, "very likely. He's all about the money. He's a good lawyer but sleazy. He gives all the 'scum of the earth' lawyers a name…"

Walking out of Starbucks, they sat down at a table in front.

"But he works in Trenton, mainly in the prison system, doing criminal law. Why would you be concerned with him?

As an afterthought, she added, "Unless he isn't doing criminal anymore, which is news to me..."

John took a sip of his coffee and chose his words very carefully.

"I would be concerned with him if he represented the defendant in a case that involved me."

"John, you work in a hospital! What can possibly concern you with Steven representing someone in the Trenton prison system? When I was in your job, I don't think I had any cases that dealt with that area."

Leaning back in the metal chair, John folded his arms across his chest.

"He's representing Robert Chase."

Stacy thought she had misheard him. "What?"

"Steven is representing Chase," John repeated.

"What for?"

Taking a sip of his coffee, John didn't answer her. He silently observed her wheels turning.

"How do you know -" And then she understood.

"Savoy's defending Chase, and you're….this is about the accident, isn't it?" she asked, quietly.

John nodded. "Yes."

"And you're representing Lisa," Stacy confirmed.

John didn't answer her right away and took another sip of his coffee.

"That's why you asked me about Savoy and about that scenario," she deduced again.

"Correct. I wanted to get an idea of how he operated. I mean, at the pre-trial yesterday morning, we, ah, had our disagreements. I had my misgivings about the guy."

"Does Greg know?"

"No."

Stacy's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"She came to me in confidence…"

"And James?"

John shook his head. "Not yet."

Observing Stacy's look of surprise, he continued. "I told Lisa to wait because I wasn't sure what was going to happen."

"Do you think that was smart?"

"Yes. Lisa has enough on her plate. I didn't want House worrying; especially if it came that there is no need."

"So when is she going to tell him?" Stacy asked, as she leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest. "She's going to have to, isn't she? It seems as though Greg was the only witness."

"The subpoena is being sent to him early next week, so I'll expect him to know soon enough."

"So, the two of you are keeping this from everybody until one day, presumably next week, this goes public?" she asked him.

"Yes."

Stacy shook her head in pure disbelief. "When's the trial date?"

"In three weeks," he replied. "I got it moved up. Lisa doesn't want to go on the stand near the end of her pregnancy and frankly, I don't blame her. However, time is working against us."

"I'm sure you'll do fine. You're a smart lawyer, John. Savoy is… how can I put this lightly, a piece of shit."

John raised an eyebrow, intrigued at Stacy's choice of words. "That was blunt," he observed, casually. He was going to ask about her relationship with House but he held his tongue.

Stacy shrugged. "You're honest with me. I'll be honest with you. Steven will probably play up the 'alcohol' thing and his reasoning for having that high of a BAC. Be prepared for questioning Chase about it."

"Thoroughly," she added, stressing the fact.

John was just about to speak but then, his phone rang. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he fished out his cell phone and glanced at the caller I.D.

"Sorry," he said, turning to Stacy, who nonchalantly waved her hand.

"Hi Lisa," he said, after bringing the phone up to his ear and spoke into the mouthpiece.

He noticed Stacy's immediate look of surprise and grinned across the table at her.

"Hi John. I hope I didn't call you at a bad time."

"Not at all. I was just out grabbing coffee and about to head back to the apartment. What's up?"

"How was the party?"

"It was great. James seems to have been enjoying himself." He glanced at Stacy, who shook her head, signaling to him not to tell Cuddy who he was in fact sitting with.

"What's up?"

"I was wondering what you and James were up to tonight. Thought you might want to come over and have dinner later."

"I'll talk with James and let you know. It shouldn't be a problem. You cooking?"

"Of course." She paused then added softly, "And John, I can't thank you enough for what you are doing for me."

"Let's not thank me until after the trial, okay?" he replied, chucking. But he appreciated nonetheless.

"Bad luck, eh?" Cuddy asked.

"I just don't want to get ahead of ourselves. We still have a lot to cover in less than three weeks…just don't be hard on yourself. We'll get through it."

After he finished reassuring Cuddy, John disconnected the call, slipped his cell phone back into his jeans pocket and then turned to Stacy.

"Sorry. I didn't know if I should have mentioned I knew you and dropped the bombshell on her."

"That's alright. I didn't want you to," replied Stacy. "But definitely let me know the details of when and where the trial is and all that stuff. I think it would be nice to support them through this ordeal."

Agreeing, John let her know that he would text her with the details.

They both made small talk for about five more minutes and then parted ways. After getting a re-fill on his and Wilson's coffees, John began his walk back to the apartment. Texting Wilson, he let him know he was on his way back and that Cuddy called and wanted to do dinner that night.

As he reminisced on what Stacy had said to him during their little chat, John couldn't help but think that she may in fact be able to help him understand Chase a little better and also maybe then to understand how to deal effectively with going head-to-head with 'Sleazy Steve', while still having the upper hand, to help his client understand her feelings a little better while being one step closer to overcoming her lurking demons within.

TBC... I have A LOT of ideas flowing for this story. So it's not going to be ending ANYTIME SOON!