Hope this is soon enuf!! lol Ok..that's it for tonight.

I'm also kind of writing a juicy fic that I would rate an R...somewhat of MA (mature audiences only). It's basically about four of the staff get snowed in (based on this weekend's weather) and what they end up doing. You'll have to email me because it won't take the link. I'm only up to Chapter 3 and it's just the set-up...the action REALLY starts in Chapter 4. Let me know if you are interested. Steph

CHAPTER TWENTY – NINE

House walked into the bathroom and opened the cabinet over the sink, looking over the three prescription bottles. He read them over carefully: one was in the name of Martha Adkinson – Dilaudid; one was in Harry Potter's name – he sniggered at the name; his name really was Harry Potter! – which was morphine in pill form; and the last was …ah, who cared. House was only looking for the morphine.

He slowly reached into his left pant pocket (out of Jerry's view), took out his bottle of vicodin, set all ten or so of the morphine pills onto the edge of the sink, poured the vicodin into the morphine bottle (except two vicodin), and put the remaining pills of morphine into the vicodin bottle, including the two loose vicodin. He then replaced the morphine bottle with the vicodin in it in the cabinet.

"Hey! What's taking so long?!" Jerry snapped as he stood at the end of the hall facing the bathroom.

"Sorry," House said as he turned to look at him. "I'm a cripple, I do everything slowly…wait, I told you that already. Do you have short term memory loss? I think you should see a doctor for…"

"SHUT UP and get out here!" Jerry ordered.

House wasn't ready to leave; Foreman should be knocking on the door any minute. Well, as long House was away from the door, Jerry would still be able to answer it without injury to him. House walked out carrying the bottle of 'vicodin' and walked to his liquor tray.

"You want a shot of something?" House asked as he poured himself a Scotch. "Oh, guess I chose the wrong words, there, huh? I mean liquor." He turned, looked at Jerry, uncapped the bottle of 'vicodin', let the two real vicodin pop out onto his palm then downed them with the Scotch, never taking his eyes off of Jerry.

"No."

"Water, tea, milk…" House suggested.

House's plan was to hope his drinking diversion would kill time before Foreman showed up, although he had no clue what Foreman's plan was.

"I DON'T WANT NOTHING TO DRINK!" Jerry shouted.

House knew Jerry's patience was wearing thin but he didn't let that panic him – at least not yet. He took his drink to the chair against the wall by the piano, the farthest from the front door, and sat down.

"Don't get comfortable," Jerry told him.

House just frowned at him without responding.

"Make a phone call for me."

"To whom?"

"Your hospital. And I want it on speaker phone."

"Fine."

The two stared at each other without saying a word. Jerry said something about House getting the phone but he didn't make a quick effort out of it; he just simply took another sip of the Scotch and stared him down.

"Why?" House asked, again, a stalling effort.

"Find out if Debra is really dead," Jerry told him, he face becoming as evil as satan himself.

House flinched when he heard the words '…Debra…dead.' He wanted to kill the man with every fiber of his being, but he didn't dare; not if it meant losing Cameron in the process.

"Fine, bring me the phone," House finally consented.

House's heart skipped a beat when he heard the doorbell ring. Jerry looked at House and asked if he was expecting anyone; House answered no but that he'd better get the door anyway.

"No! It's a trick! Probably one of your 'lackeys' coming to the rescue. Nope, it ain't gonna work on me, no sir," Jerry said as he stepped away from the door. "Prob'ly means Debra ain't really dead, I suppose? Is that her…at the door?"

"No, you're getting paranoid. You won't know who it is until you answer it, right?" House said.

"No, you get it," Jerry told him.

The doorbell rang again.

"No, you get it," House answered.

This infuriated Jerry. He rushed over to House, shoved the gun into his right temple and said, "I said YOU get the door!"

"Fine! Fine. Calm down," House said as he stood and approached the door, Jerry walking behind him with the gun pointed to the back of his head.

He didn't know what Foreman was going to do and he didn't want to find out. But right now, at that moment, House really didn't have a choice.

Jerry pressed the gun deeper into House's flesh and twisted, making him squirm in mild pain. Jerry stood behind the door while House reached for the doorknob to open it.

"Who is i…" he called out right before he opened the door…

Suddenly, a crowbar flew in the air toward House and it landed below his right rib cage. He bent over in pain but didn't collapse to the foyer.

"What the fff…" House started to say but the pain shot through his body and made him speechless.

Suddenly, House felt someone pull him by the back of his shirt and pull him inside the apartment then slammed the door; he did catch Foreman standing there in horror at what he just did.

Great! First I didn't listen to House by leaving Debra's room and she almost dies. NOW I've probably just fractured a couple of my boss's ribs. Shit!!