Chapter 14

Rosalyn Mercer could see that Dr. House was not happy about the second break. He hadn't liked the first one either. She expected some form of protest or a smart remark, but in the end, he just got up and left the room. When the door closed behind him – a little louder than strictly necessary, she thought – she breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in her chair.

It was only 11 am, and it had been a long morning already. Only cold dregs were left in the takeout cup he had brought her earlier, and she greedily drank every last drop.

For a while, she just stared at the files before her and went back over the morning's conversations in her mind.

She had done a lot of reading last night to prepare herself for this meeting. What she hadn't been prepared for was the man himself. Dr. Foreman had warned her. He can be difficult, he had said. But he is probably smarter than you and me together – no offence. None taken. He is a pain in the ass as a boss and a nightmare as an employee. I've dealt with him in both capacities. But he's the best in his field. Was and always will be.

She couldn't attest to Dr. House's professional qualities, but the time she had just spent with him had certainly been draining.

Her back was sore from sitting in this horrible chair for hours, so she pushed back from the desk and stood up to stretch out for a bit.

But even while she was trying to relax her mind couldn't stop turning the facts around – as sparse as they were.

She hadn't lied when she said that J.P. Lorimer didn't have much on her. The problem wasn't what he had but what the press would make of it. So she hadn't hesitated when she got his call two days ago. Lorimer was a louse. The press could be a pack of wolves.

What surprised her was that the case genuinely interested her – even more so after Dr. House had walked into her office this morning. Temporary office, as he had immediately figured out.

He was certainly smart. What she hadn't reckoned with was that he'd be so intense. She found him almost inscrutable at times – there was so much more going on in that head of his than he let on.

And so she now asked herself if she was being played. Or maybe the question wasn't if but how much. She didn't think he had lied to her. Over the years, she had developed quite an accurate bullshit detector. But he had also not told her everything, she was certain of that.

But while she guessed that he had only said half of what he thought, if that, she also knew it didn't mean that he was lying or had indeed committed a crime – other than impersonating another person and acquiring a false identity.

If anything, the fact that he hadn't been especially insufferable this morning spoke in his favor. To her, he looked like a man trying his best to keep his temper and impulses under control. All while those bright eyes of his didn't seem to miss a thing. She felt as if she had been under a microscope all morning when, by rights, it should've been the other way around.

She sighed, sat back down at the desk and made a few notes. When she was done, she went to open the door.

He appeared to have been pacing the corridor. The moment she opened the door, he turned and looked at her. She tried to keep her face impassive although she was fully aware that he was trying to read what she had decided.

"Dr. House, if you'd like to come back in…"

She watched him come towards her with a lot more speed she'd thought possible given his uneven gait and stepped aside when there was no indication of him slowing down as he reached the doorway.

"Someone's in a hurry," she joked as she sat back down behind the desk.

He glared at her. "Don't pretend that you aren't. You've probably got a real desk with a mountain of real cases on it somewhere in this town."

Indeed, she had.

"And yet, I'm sure that none of them are as interesting as this morning has been." She allowed herself to smile a little and looked straight at him. Two could play this game. It was fun to see that he didn't look away once their eyes had locked. He could hardly wait to hear what she had decided. In another life, she wouldn't have minded spending some time outside of this office, any office, with this man. He was certain to be anything but boring.

Her eyes still on him, she reached for her notepad.

"We do not always remember the things that do us no credit. We usually cover them in lies or excuses, or we simply forget them. That goes for most people. From what I have seen and heard over the last couple of hours, you are not like most people. I think somewhere along the way you have learned to dissect and evaluate people's actions and motives down to the minutest details. You are a harsh critic, Dr. House. Not surprisingly, people usually don't like someone like that. And from what I've heard, many people don't like you. That doesn't necessarily speak against you. I know many people don't like me either."

He smirked at that but didn't say anything.

She continued. "What I think those people don't know – because you don't want them to see or because they don't look hard enough, maybe a bit of both – is that you are your own harshest critic. As tough as you are on others, you seem to be even harder on yourself. I can't say whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, maybe it just is.

"I can't profess to know you, but I have listened closely to you and to a couple of people who know you. I think you've held your own hearing a long time ago, and you've passed judgment. You're only here today because you have to be - because you want your life back. Or maybe not your life as it was. Just a life."

Here she paused for a moment.

"I work under the premise that justice without the opportunity for redemption is torture, Dr. House. Your friend Dr. Wilson has said something very interesting. He told me that, in his eyes, you have already received your punishment. You spent two years taking care of him. That's longer than your original sentence plus extra time for violating your parole would have been. From what I've learned, looking after another human being isn't really your thing, as they say. And yet, you've done this voluntarily. Nobody forced you. Indeed, you had to work hard to be able to do this. I think this constitutes change, humanity and decency even if you did break the law along the way.

"Now, maybe it's because he is your friend, but Dr. Wilson thinks you don't deserve any more punishment. My task is to decide whether the state would agree with that opinion.

"In light of the fact that you have not actually harmed anyone – the death of Oliver Marsden has been ruled an accidental overdose…" She stopped for a moment. The man opposite her held his breath. They both knew her next words would decide his future. "We will not reopen that case. From what his file tells me he had been on a slippery slope. You may or may not have hastened his demise, that's not for me to say. It is for me to say, however, whether you should stand trial for impersonating another person and acquiring a false identity. Taking into account the extenuating circumstances, no ill will in impersonating someone and no criminal activities over the last two years, I conclude that it wouldn't serve anyone if we sent this to court to try and put you behind bars now."

As expected, there were no tears of joy. In fact, there was no great display of emotion at all. But, for a sliver of a second, she saw something flash in his eyes – so quick that she would later ask herself if she hadn't imagined it. After this, she was pleased to see his face soften just a little and his posture relax. Just a couple more minutes and they could both go back to their everyday lives.

"Dr. House, I've done my part here. If you want to practice again in this state, or any other for that matter, you will have to take this up with the relevant bodies. I'd advise you to tread carefully as it might cause someone to look closer at the case than both you and I would like. This has been an unusual day for me, to say the least. Unusual, but a welcome interruption of my routine."

She now openly smiled at him.

"I wish I could ask you to use this chance to turn over a new leaf but that would be futile. You're free to go, Dr. House. And may you never darken the door of my office again."

"This isn't even your office." The look on his face could only be described as mischievous.

She didn't try to suppress a laugh this time. Instead, she returned his nod, watched him get up, take his coat and turn to leave.

At the door, she thought she saw him hesitate for a second. He didn't turn back, so what he was thinking was anyone's guess.

The moment passed – if it had ever existed – and he quietly closed the door behind himself.