Part One

The harsh bark of cherrywood striking oak echoed, especially when chorused with a pitiful howl.

"Wilson! Wilson, open the door! You can't leave cripples out in the cold! Wilson, this is borderline abuse!"

The door suddenly opened leaving House and his cane mid-swing, "you're not Wilson."

She certainly wasn't, not unless Wilson has changed genders and had the most intricate of plastic surgery to look like a drop dead gorgeous woman.

Her brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders, the warm light from the apartment highlighted the blonde undertones that lay within. Her eyes a hue of hazel green, full of warmth and completely enticing. He could feel his jaw slackening, in danger of drooling like an oversexed hound, her fault entirely of course.

"No, no I'm not Wilson but I'm guessing you're House?" She stood to the side welcoming him into the apartment. Not that he needed telling twice, the rubber end of his cane squeak-thumping against the hardwood floors as he hobbled over to the couch, dumping his jacket, helmet and rucksack in an unkempt pile and made himself comfortable.

"So who are you? Not seen you around the hospital so I doubt very much you're a nurse."

"I'm Jo and no I'm not a nurse, I'm a teacher." She bit her tongue at chastising him for cluttering up the floor, he might be a pain in the ass but as Wilson's friend, she wanted to win him over.

"Let me guess… home ec?" He commented whilst she hung up his leather jacket.

"No, music. Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure."

He smirked indulgently when she emerged from the kitchen with two beers, sinking down on the opposite end of the couch she passed one over clinking it with hers, "James has told me a lot about you."

"All bad things I'm guessing?"

A coy smile tugged at the corner of her lips, "some good some bad, you're an interesting guy Greg House."

"You don't know half of it. Where is Wilson anyway?"

"He got a page but he promised to bring back wine and dinner." She leaned over to the coffee table to retrieve her phone unconsciously giving House a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. "Let me text him and tell him to bring back extra, Chinese okay?"

"Yeah, tell him to get my usual."

"Which is?" She asked without her eyes deviating from the phone.

"Duck Lo Mein."

"No way! That's my go-to order too. Wow, we both have great taste."

There was a slight hint of a tease in her tone and House couldn't help smiling back.

He swallowed the last of his beer, pointing the empty bottle in Jo's direction. "Yeah but you're dating Wilson, I'd say you've got very questionable tastes."

Jo giggled knowing that teasing was what House did. She caught hold of the bottle and headed off to the fridge for a couple more fresh beers while House sat on the couch mentally chastising himself for commenting like that.

She was beautiful. He wouldn't deny that, easy to talk to, quick-witted and very smart. She seemed to understand him immediately, didn't fall for his petulant bullshit tactics which is usually how it went and seemed to really enjoy his company.

So much so, that neither of them heard the key in the door and Wilson's entrance, both too busy laughing about a funny anecdote shared.

"I see you two are getting along."

Jo's eyes lit up hearing Wilson's voice, quickly bounding off the couch to help Wilson with his cargo and to eagerly embrace him, House felt an ice-cold shard jab of jealousy looking over his shoulder at the couple.

His mind began formulating a puzzle though many of the pieces were missing. He'd seen Wilson with many a girl, from nurse hook-ups to wives and not once had he felt a shred of jealousy. For years he'd embraced the bachelor lifestyle, having his heartbroken and life turned upside down by Stacy had tarnished his views on relationships and women too somewhat. Hookers and Vicodin were his dalliances, the most romantic gesture House would indulge in was tipping an extra $20 if the girl really knocked his socks off but that was a rarity.

Sex was cold, mechanical, functional. No intimacy, no kissing, no cuddling. Just basic fucking, the women he paid their time for were there to provide a service, to get him off, no questions asked and that was it.

He had no reason to be jealous of Wilson and his newfound romance with Jo, but he couldn't help feeling envious of their closeness.

The rest of the evening was pleasant, dinner was eaten, beers were drunk and conversation flowed. Jo loved seeing a new side of Wilson, he had talked countless times about House and his antics so finally getting to meet him and see his interactions with Wilson was something to behold.

Wilson drained the last of his beer, glancing at the clock on the wall, "oh, jeez! Look at the time, we've got work tomorrow."

House couldn't help but feel disappointed, the night had been brilliant. For the first time in months he had been truly relaxed and at ease, no worries about his mental or physical health, just good company, laughter and good food. He didn't want it to end.

But the clock didn't lie, nor did time standstill, it was rapidly approaching the small hours of the morning, Wilson was right, they had to call it a night.

Jo collected up the plates and empty bottles, clearing them away making one less job for the morning. Wilson wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Goodnight House, it was lovely finally meeting you."

House nodded, "yeah, you too."

Wilson smiled, pleased that the night had gone well, "night House."

House watched them disappear into Wilson's room, his heart longing for that sort of closeness. One lone fortune cookie remained on the coffee table, the metallic blue wrapper caught his eye and drew him in. He took it between his thumbs, snapping the cookie open to reveal the fortune inside.

'You will know it when you see it. It will know you when it sees you.'

He barked out a harsh sarcastic laugh, they were always full of shit. He drained the last of his beer before following suit and headed into the guest room. With the grace of a drunken ballerina, he fell back onto the bed in an ungainly fashion. He closed his eyes, willing blessed sleep to claim him when the sounds of Jo giggling permeated through the wall.

"James! House is in the other room!"

"Stop worrying, did you see how many beers he had? C'mon, an orgasm will help you sleep…"

House rolled his eyes, he would never be able to sleep with them two going at it in the next room.

"Yeah, but I left my vibrator at my place." Came Jo's sassy reply, House struggled to contain his laughter which ended up making him snort instead.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that!"

"I already did, 75 bucks if memory serves me right."

Her giggles turned into passionate moans and the subtle jostling of bedsprings became louder and more frequent. House grabbed the spare pillow and cupped it around his head, muffling the sounds but they were still there, haunting him.

He'd only known her for a matter of hours but he was already craving her like how he used to crave his next Vicodin fix.

-x-x-x-

House lay staring up at the ceiling watching the colour change as the murky blue of the night gave way to the vibrant hues of violet and yellow of a new dawn breaking. He hadn't slept a wink, his mind completely fixated on Jo, the seeds of a newly forming addiction were firmly planted and already spreading their roots. He hated it, hated that he felt like a lovestruck teenager, but most of all he hated wanting what he couldn't have.

His ears pricked to the sound of a door opening and footsteps heading towards the kitchen, his carefully attuned ears and attention to detail told him the pattern and delicacy couldn't belong to Wilson, he may have an air of poise and professionalism at work but at home, Wilson pathered around the place with the grace of a disoriented bear.

Driven by an overwhelming need of a fix and his natural curiosity, House headed out of bed. He peered around the open doorway of Wilson's room who was still fast asleep, sprawled out the span of the bed with his mouth slightly agape.

That was the confirmation he needed and with a grin tugging at the corner of his lips he headed towards the kitchen. She had her back to him, completely unaware she had a one-man audience as she hummed a vaguely familiar tuneful tune and prepped ingredients for breakfast. House was completely fixated on her, like a siren her voice had him entranced as did her beauty.

"Oh! I didn't see you there! Good morning Greg."

House startled too but quickly found his voice, "sorry, I didn't want to disturb you. What were you humming?"

"That's alright. Oh it's I Gorni by Einaudi, are you familiar with his work?"

"The name rings a bell."

"Well if you enjoy piano music you really must listen to his work, he plays so beautifully. If I was in my apartment now I'd have the stereo on and annoy my neighbours, even if it is six am."

House nodded, clutching at the golden nugget of information and carefully stored it away. Piano music, she loved piano music.

"Bet they love you."

"Eh, couldn't care less really. They only emerge when they get a whiff of gossip, worse than sharks once they've had a taste of blood."

"Hmm, I know the sort." He craned his head, sniffing loudly, "what's for breakfast?"

Jo turned around showing him the mixing bowl filled with a delicious smelling concoction, "French toast, is that okay or would you prefer something else?"

His eyebrow quirked, "I'll let you know once I've tried it."

The smile she gave in response was enchanting, coy and endearing, he longed to suckle and nibble at her lips…

"Little early for you to be up and about, isn't it House?" Chimed in Wilson as he entered the kitchen and immediately sidled up behind Jo, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

Seeing their open display of affection made the hackle on the back of House's neck rise, he swallowed down his searing jealousy with a swig of hot coffee letting the physical burn take the sting away.

Jo placed her palm against Wilson's chest to get him to back up a little so she could place a generously portioned plate in front of House. His blue eyes lit up and a deep, burbling purr emitted from his chest on the first tantalising mouthful.

"If breakfast is always this good, I may never go back home." House purred, wrapping his lips around another bite.

"I think he likes it, Jo. Oh, speaking of home, any idea when you'll be able to move back?" House's eyes flashed full of concern and disappointment which made Wilson backtrack sharply, fearing he'd offended and potentially sent House into a spiral. "Not that I'm kicking you out or anything! I just wondered it was a fire after all, did they say how much damage was caused?"

"It's mainly smoke damage in my place but the apartment where it started has been completely destroyed. So until the building is structurally safe I'm kinda homeless."

Jo's hand covered House's that lay on the breakfast counter, "you're not homeless Greg, I'm sure James will have you stay as long as you need."

Her hand seemed to linger a few moments too long to be just that of a friendly gesture, but when she finally pulled away it left behind a burning mark where it once was.

"Right, I've gotta go. Have a great day in work, save lives." Jo kissed Wilson firmly which made House grimace, "I will see you later. Bye Greg."

"Yeah, bye."

He sounded distant but inside he was pining. Pining for a woman he barely knew. He watched with thinly veiled jealousy as Wilson passionately kissed her at the door, barely able to keep his hands off her as he waved her off to work.

Wilson wore a stupid dopey grin as he lolloped back over to the breakfast bar noting the very obvious shift in House's mood.

"So, what do you think of her?"

"Who?" House mumbled, not taking his attention from his rapidly vanishing breakfast.

"The patient in room 202… I'm talking about Jo! C'mon, what do you think of her?"

"Oh. Nice."

"Nice? That's it? You're giving me 'nice'? That's not like you House, you've spent several hours in her company, I'm surprised you've not got a notepad full of character traits and flaws and reasons to hate her."

House dropped his cutlery with a harsh sigh and turned to Wilson, "Should I hate her? Is that what you want?"

"No! I just- you're not being all 'House' about her, it's kind of off-putting."

"Being drugged up in a psychiatric hospital does that to a person. Look, she seems nice, she makes you happy. Nothing else to it."

"Okay." Wilson held up his hands placating House, "Okay, I'm gonna go and get ready for work."

Wilson pathered off towards his bedroom to shower and get dressed when he emerged some twenty minutes later, House had already left.

-x-x-x-

Prior to his stint in Mayfield, his team were already pussyfooting, walking on eggshells in his presence. His delusional outbursts and erratic behaviour had made him truly unnerving to be around, even more so than usual. Since his return, the team had been even more cautious, scared of unintentionally triggering him and sending him into either a spiralling mess or potentially a relapse.

It was a meticulous balancing act for the team but touch wood, it had been working so far. That was until House limped into his office with a face like thunder and his whole aura and body language screaming 'back the fuck off.'

Even after a few hours of him wearing his headphones, blasting music loudly and throwing his red ball at the wall, House's mood hadn't lightened at all. His low moods were nothing new, part and parcel of being a diagnostic genius with an addiction to narcotics and chronic pain. But that was what was worrying the team, could his low mood be due to the pain overwhelming him and could he be on the verge of a relapse? No one wanted to be the one to step into the lion's cage, not willingly at least, but they were stuck fast on their current patient and as much as they hated to admit it, they needed House's input.

All eyes immediately fell on Taub who was quick to throw in his excuses, "no way. He loves torturing me even when he's in a good mood, I'm not getting killed to help you out."

Chase went to throw his two cents in but Cuddy unexpectedly came to their rescue walking past the office. Chase was quickly on his feet and accosting her in the corridor, almost spilling her coffee as he did.

"We need you."

"If it's a risky test, House can ask for permission himself, he's a big boy."

"No, not that. We think House has relapsed or is going to relapse."

Cuddy's eyes widened as the sinking feeling of dread consumed her. A cursory glance in the DDX room had the team glaring back with pleading eyes.

"Let me talk to him."

Completely unaware of the ticking time bomb lying in wait, she walked straight into House's office. It was as though she had walked into a freezer, the atmosphere icy and uninviting as was the cold blue glare coming from House.

Putting on her most placating smile that she hoped would feign her displeasure of the welcome and approached House's desk.

"What?"

"This is just a social call I assure you. I-"

"Social!" House barked harshly, "pull the other one, Cuddy, it has bells on it."

"I mean it, House. As Dean of Medicine, I have a duty of care to my staff, you've not long returned to work and I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine. Now go away."

"House-"

He was up and standing, staring her down with the coldest eyes she'd ever seen. "What did Chase say to you, huh? Did he go crying to mommy because I didn't pat him on the head when I walked in this morning?"

"Don't patronise me House. There's clearly something wrong with you, you've been held up in here for hours doing god knows what-"

He cut across her, "You think I'm using again!"

"Well, are you? You've given the team enough cause for concern."

"Oh, that's nice. Can't a guy have a shitty day and everyone not automatically jump to conclusions?" He moved back around his desk and wrenched the drawers open, tipping the contents out all over the floor, "look for yourself. Piss test me, blood test me, do whatever you want! The hardest drug you'll find is Ibuprofen and that piss-weak beer Wilson buys."

Cuddy's shoulders shrank with the burden of guilt now resting upon them. The team couldn't bear to look up from the tabletop, too terrified to make eye contact with House fearing the retribution.

"I'm going home."

-x-x-x-

He carelessly let himself into the apartment, rucksack, jacket and helmet left in a haphazard pile in his wake as he hobbled to the kitchen grabbing a beer and bag of chips before meandering to the guest room. His six-foot frame fell ungainly onto the unmade bed with a resounding whump. The memory foam mattress cradled and held his aching body in supreme comfort but did little to ease the woes raging within.

Fumbling awkwardly at the switches and buttons of the alarm-cum-radio on the bedside table, scrolling through the static and tinny music, he soon landed on a station playing classic rock songs that took him back to a happier time.

At some point he made himself more comfortable, opening the chips and beer, slumming it like a teenager. He barely registered the song playing, the opening chords not striking one with him but the lyrics soon did.

Jessie is a friend

Yeah, I know he's been a good friend of mine

But lately something's changed, it ain't hard to define

Jessie's got himself a girl and I want to make her mine

Shit, that struck a nerve. A gaping, raw, exposed nerve that had him staring up at the ceiling looking for respite.

And she's watching him with those eyes

Those beautiful hazel-green eyes…

And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it

He'd heard them, the thought alone made his stomach churn violently with simmering jealousy...

Yeah, and he's holding her in his arms late, late at night

His arms itched to be around her, to be the one to hold her close...

You know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl

I wish that I had Jessie's girl

Why can't I find a woman like that?

The truth was he'd found her, the problem was she was Wilson's girl.