Chapter Thirty-six: And Where Would We Be Going?

"And where would we be going, Tiger?" B.E. asked.

I shyly handed him the manila envelope. He opened it, examining the plane tickets.

"New York? Friday?" he asked.

"Yes. We would leave Friday afternoon and return Sunday evening. I have reservations at the Sofitel Hotel for a deluxe suite including a king sized bed." I hesitated. "I thought, since you took me to the hockey game for our first date, I'd take you on our second date." I waited anxiously for his reaction.

He pulled the brochure for the hotel out of the envelope. Next, he pulled out the real tickets. "How'd you get these?"

"Would you go with me?"

"Tiger, I checked into getting these; they're god-awful expensive. And I thought you were going with Ph.D. guy anyway."

I put my hand on his arm. "I was hoping you'd go with me. Please?"

He held the tickets to Coast of Utopia gingerly in his hands. "You sure?"

I nodded.

"How can you afford all this?"

"I can," I answered.

"You haven't been earning extra money giving blow jobs at the student center, have you?"

I laughed. "Of course not. Students don't pay enough. I wait outside the ER."

"How have I missed you?"

"You'd just try to pay me with a bad check," I accused.

"You know me too well." He smiled. "Tell me, seriously, how you've finagled this."

"First, look at the other brochures in the envelope. There are restaurants to choose from. And the museums."

He grimaced. "You're going to make me go to museums?"

"I've never been to New York. So, yes, we have to go to museums, but I'll reward you with some outstanding restaurants. And Madame Tussaud's. Still my treat."

"That does it," he proclaimed. "I want to know how you're funding this."

I gave in. "I sold the truck. I don't need it now I have Mother's convertible."

"But . . ." he began.

"My choice," I interrupted.

He whined, "Tiger."

"Will you go with me?"

"You did all this to entice me?"

"And more," I answered. I opened my coat, revealing the orange gym shorts and navy tank top I had worn the day I had first encountered Blue Eyes in the Princeton-Plainsboro clinic. I bent one knee, posing, then switched knees, angling the other way. He laughed. I was freezing, but I turned around and flipped my coat up so he could read "TIGER" on my ass. I looked over my shoulder at him and wiggled. "So?"

"Wiggle that again, and I might just follow you," he grinned.

"I was counting on it," I lied. My heart was beating so fast I could hear it in my ears. I had never been successful at romantic gestures; I had really taken a risk.

"You didn't have to do all this," he waved his hand at the lights and the CD player, "to seduce me, you know. I'm a much easier target."

I smiled at him as I turned around to look into his happy eyes. "I didn't want to take you for granted. I knew the play wasn't really your idea of a good time, although I'm hoping you'll be as pleasantly surprised as I was at the hockey game."

He moved closer to me and reached out to pull my coat around my chilled body. "But this is a two-night get-away. That implies a certain amount of intimacy."

"Do you mean sex?"

"Yes, please," he answered.

"If I have sex with you, you'll go to the play with me?" I clarified.

"But you're still paying for everything, including five star meals, maybe at Tom Colicchio's place, and a trip to the Algonquin Bar?"

"Of course, Blue Eyes."

"Then I'll be happy to nap during that European play with you. But I do want to go to the wax museum."

"Naturally, sir, your wishes will be accommodated," I acquiesced.

B.E. asked, "Have you told Ph.D. guy yet?"

I shook my head.

He chortled with pleasure. "Oh, let me. Pretty please?"

I laughed insanely. "You are very naughty, Blue Eyes."

He pulled the front of my coat to meet his chest. "But you adore me, my Tiger. I know you do."

I put my arms around his waist and turned my face up to his. "We'll have a good weekend, don't you think?"

He leaned down and kissed me lightly on my lips. "I think we will have a marvelous trip with the possible exceptions of the play and those nasty museums." He waggled his eyebrows at me.

"You might just surprise yourself and enjoy them."

"What about now?" he asked. "What do I get to enjoy up here?"

I giggled as he ran his hands through my hair. "Don't you think it's a tad chilly to enjoy much of anything up here?"

He answered, "You went to a lot of trouble to make this roof an enticing environment."

"Well, I had to do something to persuade you to go with me," I responded.

"I hate to disappoint you, but you didn't have to go to all that trouble; you had me with those orange gym shorts, Tiger."

"You are sooo easy," I purred.

He rested his lips next to my forehead. "Why don't we adjourn to my apartment and discuss, for example, which of the restaurants we will, say, dine at."

"How can you make that sound so suggestive?" I marveled.

"I am a man of definite talents. I think it's high time I demonstrate some of my lesser known talents to you," he leered as he slipped his arms inside my coat and cupped my ass cheeks with his hands, pulling them against him. "Do we need to call Wilson and tell him not to expect us for dinner?"

I told him, "That would be the polite thing to do," as I rubbed my face against his grizzled chin.

"Come on, then, Tiger," he said as he pulled me towards the door. "He was still in his office when I headed up here. Let's go by there on our way to bid the princess good night."

I paused to unplug the lights and the CD player. I saw no reason not to leave everything where it was; I could retrieve my decorations the next morning. My heart was still pulsating with the excitement of a weekend in New York with Blue Eyes when we found Jim hunched over his desk.

"What are you cooking for supper?" Blue Eyes demanded.

Jim's head snapped up, a guilty look on his face. "Oh, I hadn't, but, well, since you're both here, we can stop by that Ethiopian restaurant on McNally Road. It's just a hole-in-the-wall, but a very good one."

Blue Eyes grinned evilly. "Although Tiger's attire is certainly in keeping with that of a third world country, I don't think she's fitting for even a hole-in-the-wall."

"Argghh," I groaned as I pulled my coat tightly around me and covered my face with my free hand.

Jim angled his head quizzically and asked, "What?"

B.E. puffed out his chest. "Tiger's invited me to New York for the weekend. She got tickets to the theater for us. Her treat."

I uncovered my face long enough to elbow him. "Stop gloating."

"Wow," Jim said. "Coast of Utopia? How did you get them?"

"Troy, my T.A., managed it. And I sold the truck," I confessed.

"And you're taking that uncultured neophyte? What a waste," Jim clucked.

"Hey," Blue Eyes objected, "I'm not a neophyte."

"Do you even know what that means, House?" Jim asked.

B.E. stuttered, "Well, of course I do. Well, anyway, Tiger, here, has been courting me so I'll accompany her to the Big Apple, and I thought we'd spend the evening at my apartment. Alone."

"But, Jim," I said, anxiously, when I saw the crestfallen look on his face.

"No, no," he interjected, shaking his hand and waving his hands, "I have a ton of paperwork to catch up with here. You two go on and enjoy your evening. Maybe we can eat Ethiopian tomorrow night."

I hurriedly answered, "Of course we can."

Simultaneously, B.E. said, "Why the hell would we ever want to eat Ethiopian?"

I stopped, looked at Blue Eyes, and said, "Just shut up. Geez!"

He leaned next to me and asked, "You really want to eat wheat and beans with your fingers?" He shuddered indelicately. "Eewww!"

I turned to Jim. "I would love to go to the Ethiopian restaurant tomorrow evening, Jim."

"We'll figure something out, Audra," Jim politely replied.

Blue Eyes pulled on my arm. "Nothing personal, Wilson, but we have some anticipation sex to get to. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Actually, we have to go see Zelda," I corrected B.E. as I was dragged through the doorway. "Bye, Jim." I heard Jim chuckle as I tripped into the hallway. "We are going to see Zelda, right?"

"Of course."

We did stop by the NICU. Blue Eyes insisted on feeding her. She was completely comfortable in his arms, smiling around the bottle's nipple as he sang, "Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog."

"I think her eyes are going to be green – don't you?" I asked.

He stopped singing briefly to answer. "You have green eyes – that would make sense, Tiger."

He resumed singing, and she wrapped her tiny fingers around his index finger. When she finished eating, I took her and changed her diaper. He stood beside me, leaning heavily on his cane, and watched.

"You're pretty good at that," he commented.

"The more I practice, the faster I'll get," I laughed.

"Are you ready for her to move in with you?"

I placed her back into her climate-controlled crib and turned to stare into his startlingly blue eyes. "I'm nervous about it, but I'm tired of these momentary visits. I'm ready to become her full-time mother. I know I'll make a lot of mistakes, but I really want the chance to give it my best effort, Blue Eyes. How do you feel about it?"

He looked away for an instant, and that break in his gaze would, later, haunt me. "I have no doubt that you'll be a fantastic mother. You'll be the best."

We settled for Chinese take-out at Blue Eyes' apartment. Since it was a hands-on food, and we were in a hands-on mood, we both ended up with more on us than in us. We fell asleep, smelling of garlic and soy sauce, on his couch, thrown over each other, until his leg began to ache, and I felt him move out from under me. "Huh?" I yelled when I felt myself suddenly drop.

"I need to move," he whispered.

I heard the swallow as he gulped down two of his pain pills. I followed him to his bed. Being so comfortably cuddled beside him, lulled to sleep with his humming, I overslept. I groaned and stretched, finally, and saw the bedside clock read eight-twenty. "Oh, my god," I screamed.

"Wha?" Blue Eyes grumbled. He rubbed his face. I started to get up, but he grabbed me and pulled me back within the circle of his arm. "It's early. Kiss me."

"It is most definitely not early, and your breath reeks of scotch and Szechuan. Let met go, you letch," I giggled as I struggled to escape.

I made it out of bed, into and out of the shower, and into the university with little interference from Blue Eyes. I had no spare clean clothes, but, fortunately, I had no lectures scheduled, so I borrowed navy sweats and a plain, navy sweatshirt from Blue Eyes. I breezed into the offices, ignoring Cindy's flapping arms, and rushed into my private office to find David parked behind my desk. I stopped, startled.

"David. What are you doing?" I asked.

He looked up from my computer, hastily clicking off the screen. "I was waiting on you, Audra. I wanted to talk about the upcoming weekend. Coast of Utopia, you know." He smiled slimily, his insincere smile.

I stood, awkwardly, in front of my desk; I refused, on principle, to sit in the visitor's chair in front of my desk, but he seemed to have settled in behind my desk in my chair. "I'm glad you brought that up because I need to talk with you about it. I owe you a huge apology, but I can't go with you after all."

"You can't go? Has something come up?" He stared at me, stupidly, from behind my desk without making the slightest effort to move.

"Actually," I began, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, "I am going this weekend, but I've made arrangements to go with someone else. I know this is terribly rude of me, and I apologize again . . . look, I've just gotten in. Do you think you could let me get to my desk?"

He stared at me as if I had told him I was spending my Saturday feeding bananas to my fiancé, the orangutan. I moved towards my chair, and he made a choking sound and haltingly scooted back. "Did you say you are going to the play – just not with me?" he gulped. The notion was, obviously, a difficult one for him to grasp.

I waited while he vacated my seat. I clicked on my computer screen, but all it brought up was eBay; somehow, I didn't really believe he had been researching Madam Alexander dolls on which to bid. He stood just inside my office door, unmoving. Finally, I looked up at him. "Yes, David, I have tickets to Saturday's performance."

He began tapping his foot in a nervous manner. "It's a marathon performance, you know; all three plays of the trilogy. Nine hours. Surely you're not going to see it alone?"

I exhaled slowly and frustratingly. Couldn't he just let me reject him and be done with it? "I know it's a trilogy, David. Remember, I've been studying Stoppard. In fact, I've read all three of the plays. And, no, I'm not going alone. Greg House is going with me. Are you satisfied now?" My tone was harsh, I knew.

"You're taking that obnoxious doctor? The one with the limp? You'd rather go with him than with . . . Well, all right then. I'd better be going." And he turned quickly and left.

Of course, he had made a valid point. I hadn't told Blue Eyes the play we were going to see began at eleven in the morning and lasted until nine in the evening. Nor had I warned him it was about a bunch of Russian intellectuals in the nineteenth century. He was going to murder me before the first of the three plays was half finished. I made a note to see if we would have time to visit Madame Tussaud's first. I also elected not to tell him about the length of the play until Saturday morning. Perhaps, if we had a fabulous meal Friday evening, and if I promised him a marvelous after-theater meal Saturday evening, and if I relinquished any trips to museums, he wouldn't grumble enough to drown out the entire play. I also made a note to hit the nearest adult bookstore to get ideas for unique but unforgettable Friday-night-in-New-York sex in order to lull him into a too-tired-to-care stupor by Saturday morning. I had an enormous amount of money invested in the weekend; however, the money had no significance when compared with the opportunity to see Stoppard's newest trio of plays; and, ultimately, all of it was insignificant if Blue Eyes and I were unable to find ways to enjoy ourselves and each other. I wasn't unrealistic enough to think he was going to be enthralled with a serious, cerebral play of an unusually butt-numbing length, but I was willing to make other sacrifices to keep him happy. Perhaps it was a sign of my naïveté I still thought a healthy, good-natured give-and-take could get a couple through conflicts; of course, part of my naïveté was to think Blue Eyes and I were a typical couple.