Chapter N°8
'It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife…'
Everyone would think you are the 'Pride & Prejudice' sort of girl, the one that dreams of a dashing and brooding hero that will sweep you off your feet.
You're not.
If for no other reason that the one you're interested in can't even walk on his own and he is more immature then brooding.
And the strangest thing is that the tattered copy now in your hands, is not yours.
It's House's.
It's weird. And weirder.
You've found on his desk, artfully concealed under piles of junk and magazines. And you ponder if this could be used as blackmailing material. How would you pose your request? Something among the lines of 'Let me on the case or I'll ruin your reputation?'…no, that wouldn't work, would it? But right now you would sleep with Cuddy if it could get you to work on your father.
Work on your father.
It's a poor way to express the need to do something. To help the most important man in your life.
But the other one, the one that is a close second, is having none of it, and has bribed the janitor to page him if you so much look at the board. And the creeping man is actually across the room, looking amused and with a bucket full of soap ready to land on you at the first wrong move.
The staring context between you is interrupted by the ringing of the phone, and you are strangely grateful to hear your mother voice on the other line.
"…you wouldn't believe what happened before!!! Really, I thought I raised you better than that: giving your keys to the first man …"
You tune her out. It's ridiculous the way she can pay attention to the silliest things, while your father is dying alone in his room.
"…and your dog…eating …shoes that nice…what…brothers"
Your mind is spinning and your vision is hazy, and the creepy janitor seems to shout something at you and you can't grasp it but someone grasps you. Horrendous aftershave…Wilson? Cuddy? The voice on the phone is becoming strange and panicky, but you can't understand why. The floor, the walls, everything close around you, and you think that you're fainting but you're not.
And just as a familiar head of red curls reach your vision, the room stops spinning, the voices stop harassing you, and you close your eyes just for a moment, really, but when you open them again you're not in your boss' office. You're in Wilson's. And the look he is giving you is the same one Charles used when he was caught doing something Really Bad. Then you notice that his hand is on your left breast and your torso is basically naked and House is just arrived in the room.
The silence is deafening and Wilson blurts out that one sentence that should never be said
"It's not what you think"
In the next second two things happen: you slap his ears.
And House is still staring at your chest.
Good thing that Daniel is with him. Who would have slapped him otherwise?
"So sis…is there something you'd like to tell me?"
He has that mischievous look in his eyes, the one that promises you that mom will hear of this. But his black eyes are so familiar and comforting, that you can't help but feel six again, when a scraped knee, could guarantee you a piggy ride on the broad back of your favourite brother.
Your knee is not bruised, and your brother can't lift you with the same easy way of your younger years, but he is here, and you can't help but feel that everything is going to be ok now.
The fact that House is still staring at your chest is just a plus, really.