CHAPTER SIX – One of the Lucky Ones

He looked her over for a brief moment, making a mental note of her name tag on her left shirt collar, 'Kathi.'

"Uh, hi," she said as she approached and stood at the end of the booth table. "What can I get you to drink?" she asked, pretending she didn't recognize him from earlier that morning.

House noticed she was a bit unsteady on her feet, although she looked well, but he arrogantly attributed it to her being nervous in his presence. "Raspberry tea."

She nodded her head and jotted it down on her pad. "Is that your phone number?"

She looked up at him, brushed her long bangs aside and said, "Depends."

"Depends on what?" House asked, highly intrigued.

"Depends on how much you tip me." She then turned and walked away from him.

House blankly looked out the window and felt a little giddy inside. Even after the horrible morning he'd had things were looking up for him. At least she wasn't a 17 year old with a disease that made her throw herself at him. That was the most crushingly thing that had ever happened to him, aside from Stacy leaving him. He'd finally felt sexy and a man again without his cane, even though his limp was there it wasn't as bad as it had been.

She quickly returned with his tea and sat down across from him. House's eyes flew open at her aggressiveness, or was it stupidity? He anxiously looked around the room looking for an excuse for her to leave with the other patrons, but there were only three other tables occupied. He cleared his throat and sipped his tea, returning his stare back at her.

"I never caught your name," she said.

"House."

"Ah. I assume your parents gave you a first name?"

"Greg."

"I'm Kathi. Did you realize you are pathetically failing the flirting quiz?"

House couldn't help but grin. "I didn't know I was being tested."

"Always," she said sexily. "So, what do you want?"

House didn't skip a beat. "World peace."

"Very admirable. But what do you want for lunch?"

"To end hunger."

Kathi sighed but never lost the curiosity of this man in her eyes, then stood up. "Well, if you're running for Ms America, I think you passed. Let me be more specific: what do you want to eat for lunch -- chicken, steak, hamburger or shrimp? Baked potato or fries? A salad?"

"I'll take the 9-oz Rib eye, medium rare, no seasoning, baked potato with lots of butter and sour cream, garden salad with honey-mustard dressing and another tea."

"Just what I like -- a man that knows what he wants." As she finished writing down all he'd ordered, she looked up at him and froze, just froze. House didn't know if he had a booger hanging from his nose or if she had gone into a catatonic state, but it was starting to make him feel uncomfortable.

"Uh, did you forget to write something down?" he asked nervously.

"No, I didn't notice your eyes earlier. Wow. Uh, I'll go place your order." She turned and walked away.

Again, House couldn't resist watching her walk away: the curve of her hips, the sexy sway back and forth, her long, well-defined calves. He thirstily downed his tea and it suddenly grew hot in the restaurant.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Several weeks passed anxiously for House and he had just forgotten all about the jury selection when he stepped into his office that Monday morning and faced his three Muskateers, who were busy fighting crime – or in their case, diseases.

As usual, and pathetically, Cameron was opening House's mail and frowned when she came across another envelope from Mercer County Courthouse. She followed him into his office but he ignored her, as usual.

"You got another one," she said as she handed him the envelope.

He simply looked at it, looked her right in the eyes, reached for his iPod, put on the headphones and sat back in his chair smugly. She kept eye contact with him, threw the envelope on his desk and walked out without saying a word.

Several minutes passed and he finally opened his eyes, reached for the envelope and opened it.

"No…no…no…no way!" House said out loud, so loud that the three ducklings looked at him with confused faces, even though he didn't look in their direction.

The letter read:

'Dr. Gregory House,

You have been selected as a panel for jury duty. Please arrive at the Mercer County…'

"No…no…NO!"