Chapter Two:
Anali pulled her black plastic hair clip from her hair and shook her head, her long brown tendrils falling around her shoulders. Sighing, she tossed the clip onto the nearby kitchen table and walked over to a cupboard, opened it, and pulled out a package of plain bagels. She was reaching for a clean plate when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the microwave's clock and groaned. It was nearly midnight. She set her plate down and begrudgingly went to the front door of the apartment she usually shared with her currently absent husband. She had hoped that it was Chase who was ringing the bell incessantly because he had lost his key, but she discovered it was a man she was not expecting in the least little bit. "Dr. House," she said. "What are you doing here?"
"Beating Wilson to the punch," he muttered, pushing past her into the apartment. He saw her confused expression as she closed the door. "Dr. James Wilson has a fetish for people in need. If he overhears Chase say something to Cameron about his 'failing' marriage, you can believe me, he'll work insanely hard to find you, behind you and convince you to let him take care of you."
"And is it bad to have a supportive friend?" she asked, following him as he limped into her kitchen. "Would you like something to eat?"
"Do you have any cold cereal?" he asked. She pointed him toward the cereal cupboard, then got him a bowl and a spoon. She set them on the counter then got the milk from the refrigerator as he said, "In answer to your question: no, it isn't. But Wilson will get attached to you. The last thing you need when trying to save your marriage is Wilson hanging around your apartment when he's not at work."
"So, you're better?" she asked. "Either way, I don't think Robert would be too thrilled with the idea."
"True," he said, munching on a spoonful of Lucky Charms. "But I'm less of a threat to Chase. Unless you dig older men who are addicted to Vicodin." Another spoonful. "You don't, do you?"
She spread some margarine on her bagel then put it in the microwave and set it to warm for thirty-five seconds. "If your manners were more pleasant, perhaps I could learn to love older men with an addiction to Vicodin," she said, pulling a glass from the cupboard by the microwave and pouring a glass of milk. The microwave beeped. "A suitable answer?" she asked, retrieving her bagel.
"You'll have to learn to deal with my manners," he said. "You'll be seeing a lot of me."
"So, tell me, Anali," House said over breakfast the next morning. "How does a good little Mormon girl like you marry a good little Catholic boy like Chase? How does that happen?"
"How does a grouchy, limping man like you end up all alone?" she countered. "Tell me, how does that happen? It just does, House."
"So you're saying it's your nature to be married to him?" he asked. "There's got to be a deeper meaning behind your marriage. Did you do it to get back at someone? Your dad? Mom?"
"Mum's dead," she said shortly. "Since my first Christmas."
"What happened?"
"Uterine cancer," she replied softly. "She was diagnosed when I was six months old. She deteriorated from there."
"When's your birthday?"
"April."
"So she was diagnosed in October and was dead by Christmas," House mused. "Aren't you worried about getting it?"
"No."
"Then who did you get back at by marrying Chase?" he pressed.
"No one."
"Are you sure you didn't prove anything to anyone?" he asked. "Because it doesn't fit with the stereotypical Mormon girl that I've come to believe you've grown up as."
"My dad loves him," Anali said. "My stepmother doesn't. But she doesn't even like me." She sighed and put her breakfast dishes in the sink along with House's. She looked at the clock. "Don't you need to get to the hospital?"
"No, not really," he said, leaning back in his chair.
"Come on, get up," she said, pulling on his arm. "I'll drive you."
In Anali's black Aveo, she turned on the CD player. "What are we listening to?" House asked, pulling a face.
"The International Cast Soundtrack of Les Miserables," she said lightly, turning it up a little. "Had you been there that night, you might know how it feels," she sang with the CD, unconsciously altering the lyrics slightly. "To be struck to the bone in a moment of breathless delight. Had you been there that night, you might also have known, how your world may be changed in just one burst of light. And what was right seems wrong. And what was wrong seems right."
Red!
"I feel my soul on fire."
Black!
"My world if he's not there!"
Red!
"The colour of desire."
Black!
"The colour of despair!" She sighed and sank into her seat as she focused on driving. House looked at her sideways. She noticed. "What?" she asked.
"Do you do that purposely?" he asked. "Change the lyrics of a song to fit your life better?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, House," she said. "I sing what's written. I've never changed any song's lyrics. It doesn't seem right."
"Right or wrong, you did it," he said. "So, what's so special about that night?" She gently pulled over and turned off the car and gazed out the window, lost in thought.
It was a brisk December night. Chase and Anali had just come out of a movie and were casually walking down the street to the park. Hey had a sudden thought to go ice skating even though the hour was growing late.
The park was breathtakingly beautiful. A light blanket of snow covered the ground. There were strings of white lights strung through the trees around the frozen over pond.
Once their skates were laced, he took her hand and led her out onto the ice where he pulled her to him and they waltzed on the ice. A happy smile was carved on both their faces. Anali giggled happily as he spun her away from him, then back into his arms. "Thank you," she said, her accent a purer British-American one.
"For what?" he asked as they returned to the shore. He helped her out of the skates and into her converse.
"For a wonderful night," she said. "Everything's been so lovely. I wish it would never end." They walked from the pond to the snow-glazed gazebo.
"It doesn't have to," he murmured. He took her hand and knelt before her. "Ana, I may not be perfect and I may not deserve you, but I love you. And I would be deeply honoured if you would agree to be my wife." He opened the blue velvet box in his other hand, revealing the simple ring she had always wanted: a silver band with a three karat diamond.
"That is so sweet," she said. "And you realise our parents would never approve."
"Ana, you're torturing me," he said. "Please just answer the question."
"Of course, I'll marry you, you prat," she said, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe you would think I wouldn't."
He sighed and slipped the ring onto her finger. "It's just," he said. "I was afraid you wouldn't because of your church and your parents don't particularly care you to have a civil marriage—" He got to his feet. "Or that you didn't love me."
"Why would you think that last bit?" she asked.
He blushed a little. "You never said you did," he mumbled.
"Robert, look me in the eyes and listen to me," she said. "I love you and I may be a good, little Mormon girl, but I'm not stupid. I'm not going to let some weird factors like my parents stop me from being with the only man I know I will ever love." He pulled her into a warm hug. She looked up at him and said, "But still no kiss until our wedding."
He smiled. "I think I can handle the wait," he said. He kissed her forehead gently.
"Anali?"
"Actually, House," she said, starting the car again. "That's rather personal."
"Chase, get in here," House said from his office door. Chase followed him into the room. "I want to talk to you about your wife."
"Why?"
House put a small, digital audio recorder on his desk and pressed 'play'. Anali's voice floated from it:
Time and time again,
I say that I don't care,
I'm immune to gloom,
That I'm strong through and through.
But every time it matters,
All my words desert me.
So anyone can hurt me.
And they do.
So what happens now?
So what happens now?
Where am I going to?
Where am I going to?
Chase lifted an eyebrow. "And the point of showing me that was?" he asked.
"I told her to sing anything," House said. "That's what she sang. Whatever you've done that makes you feel so incredibly guilty that you can't go home, won't be as bad to a woman who feels completely vulnerable without you. Now. What have you done?"
"During the 'All in' case," Chase mumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "We were separated. And I dated Angela a couple times…"
"Angela the nurse?" House asked. Chase nodded. "Did you sleep with her?" Another nod. "And now she's pregnant."
"How did you know?" Chase asked.
"Hm?" House asked, being pulled back from his thoughts. "She came to see me about a pregnancy test." He sighed. "That's it? You're afraid to go back to your wife because you're going to be the father of another woman's baby?" He laughed. "You're such a wuss." He stood and began to walk out of the office. "Go home. Tell her the truth. Or I will."