A/N: If anyone is also reading my other current fic you'll know that in that story I invented a sofa in House's office. It's come in handy here too - I think he should just go buy himself one! Thanks for those reviews - keep 'em coming!
Also, just advance notice, I think eventually this fic is going to have to change rating.
--
The plastic chairs in the clinic waiting area were hard and uncomfortable after ten minutes, let alone four hours.
Jen had only been asleep for a couple of hours when she was woken by the noise of Sarah's friends bringing her home. Sarah was obviously very sick but didn't have any insurance, so Jen had brought her into the clinic as soon as it opened. There'd been quite a queue and it had taken over an hour before Sarah had been ushered into an examination room. Since then, Jen had been just been waiting.
She called out to a passing nurse, asking for the tenth time for an update.
"We're really busy this morning. The doctor will be out to see you soon," she said in a rush, hurrying off to something.
Jen tried to say she wasn't waiting to see a doctor, but the nurse had passed before she even got a word out. Jen huffed and sat back, trying hard to wait patiently. She was starting to get really worried.
--
House was never impressed to be called in to the hospital early. Particularly not on a Saturday. Even more particularly not for weekend clinic duty. And especially not when he'd had hardly any sleep. He'd gone home after Jen made her dash from the bar and watched TV because he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Their kisses, her soft skin, the weight of her full breast in his hand kept playing over in his head. He'd ended up going to bed and taking matters into his own hands, feeling like a frustrated teenager whose girlfriend wouldn't go past first base.
"Cuddy!" he called, walking into the clinic and shrugging off his coat, laying it over the hands of a surprised passing nurse. "I hear we have an outbreak of Ebola. Have you called the CDC yet?" His loud voice carried through the busy waiting room causing a few people to cast worrying eyes in his direction. But no one started panicking and House was vaguely disappointed.
Cuddy approached him, palms out, obviously trying to calm him.
"I appreciate you coming in on Saturday, House, but I've called in every doctor who's available; we've got a situation."
"Obviously. I've been telling you for ages that cancer is contagious." He eyed the waiting room, but again, there was no reaction.
Cuddy shushed him and pulled him over toward the nurses station, away from the crowded waiting area.
"Some asshole really wanted to get laid last night. We've already had at least twenty cases of GHB poisoning and more keep coming through the door. And that's on top of our usual Saturday cases. They all need to be tested, rehydrated and – if necessary – rape kits done and counselling arranged."
"You don't need me Cuddy, you know I'm crap at that stuff."
"Don't worry, I won't be sending any of them your way. I don't need to you to do anything more than handle the usual walk-ins, so other clinic staff can deal with these patients. Oh, and they're taking up most of the examination rooms, so we've set up some temporary curtained areas for the non-sensitive cases." Cuddy sighed. "Can you at least please try to keep your voice down?"
"Ooh, this is going to be fun!" House said, his mocking tone clearly conveying exactly how much fun he didn't think it would be.
--
Jen looked around the waiting room again and this time saw Greg, standing conversing with another doctor. Her stomach dropped. Of course, this was just her luck; this would have to be the hospital he worked at.
She'd convinced herself that she would never see him again, and now he was right over there. In some ways it felt as if the hours since she last saw him had never happened. She was breathless and tingling just as she had been when she pulled out of his embrace.
And overwhelmingly embarrassed at the way she'd run out on him.
He must think I'm…
Jen couldn't finish the thought – she couldn't even imagine what he made of her. And the fact that at any minute he could turn around and see her was twisting her stomach in knots.
She started to look around to see if there was an escape route other than the main doors near where he was standing, but then the logical part of her brain kicked in, asserting its authority over her panic.
Sarah.
Sarah was her first priority. Even though the last thing in the world she felt like doing was talking to him again, she needed to find out how her sister was doing. Sarah was a pain and an airhead and completely annoying, but Jen loved her fiercely. And even though Jen was the older sibling it had been Sarah who'd been looking after her for the past year or so. It was her sister who'd offered her spare bedroom when Jen had finally split with Matt. It was Sarah who'd bought her ice cream and listened to her cry.
Screwing up every bit of courage she could muster, Jen rose on shaky feet and headed over to the two doctors.
"Um, excuse me?"
"Just go back to your seat and you'll be seen shortly," Cuddy replied automatically, not even looking away from her conversation with House.
"So can you stay for at least four hours?" Cuddy asked House.
House was about to reply, but stopped and turned as the person who'd tried to interrupt laid a gentle hand on his forearm.
He froze when he saw it was Jen.
The first thing that hit him was how different she looked. Wearing jeans and a worn, tight t-shirt, her curvy body hit him between the eyes. Her wavy blonde hair flowed to just below her shoulders and her skin looked just as velvety as it had felt last night. She'd obviously not slept well and the skin on her chin and around her mouth was reddened slightly. He couldn't help one side of his mouth dragging up at that.
Jen shivered as he looked at her. She swore he could see straight through her and knew that he was making her stomach convulse. His mouth curved up in a mocking smile and she was convinced he somehow knew what she'd done last night. Knew that at home, in bed, after lying awake for hours she'd finally crept her hands into her underpants, giving herself sweet relief, all the while wishing it was his hands on her.
"Well, if it isn't Cinderella," House said, finally.
Jen was confused for a moment, but then decided to leave it – she needed to focus on her sister.
"Sarah – my sister – I brought her in about four hours ago – and I haven't heard anything about how she's doing. Could you find out? Please? I'm really worried."
"Was she vomiting? Dizzy?" House asked.
Jen nodded.
He exchanged a grim look with Cuddy. He didn't want to get involved if her sister had been drugged and raped. He'd bargain with Cuddy and get her to find out what had happened and do the dealing with Jen in exchange for more clinic time. Even if it cost him another two hours of his Saturday.
"Go, sit," he directed Jen. "I'll see what I can find out. What's the last name?"
The look of relief on Jen's face immediately made him feel guilty for his thoughts of handballing her. It didn't change his mind, though.
"Edwards."
Jen made her way back to the waiting room as House turned back to Cuddy.
"Friend of yours?" Cuddy asked suspiciously.
"One of many," House answered curtly. "Now, do we know if Sarah Edwards was one of our lucky jackpot winners last night?"
Cuddy reached over to the stack of files on the counter and flicked through them.
"Sarah Edwards. Positive for GHB, but no rape. Her friends took her home when she started acting strangely," Cuddy read. "She's probably just still being rehydrated. Will be a couple more hours yet until we're sure the drug has cleared her system enough to let her go."
"Right." House was relieved. That was easy news to deliver, well within his capacity.
Without waiting to discuss anything further with Cuddy, he made his way over to where Jen was perched, and sat heavily into the chair next to her.
"She's fine. Someone gave her GHB – you know, the date-rape drug. But she's fine, her friends got her home before anything else happened. Once she's had some fluids and a rest, the drug will be out of her system and she'll be right as rain."
Jen was shocked by the news, but relieved that Sarah would be okay.
"God, I thought that kind of thing only happened on TV," she said.
"Nup. Happens all the time. Got to be careful of those cocktails. And men in bars trying to buy you drinks," he added, giving her a sideways look.
"Except for you I suppose?" Jen replied.
"Except for me," he agreed.
"House!" Cuddy marched over and stood in front of him. "You're needed over there. Waiting times are already over an hour and we can't wait for you to chit chat."
She stormed off.
"Can't wait for you to chit chat," House mimicked childishly.
"That's not a very nice way to talk to your boss," Jen said.
"Well, she's used to it."
"Oh." Jen realised she'd put her foot in it. Yet again. She thought he was the boss.
House took in her expression.
"Oh wait, you though I was…and she was…" he grinned. "Priceless."
Jen was suddenly overcome again by the awkwardness of the situation between them. She hadn't expected to see him again, and now he'd helped her out. Her panic about what to say and how to act returned.
"Well, thanks, I guess. Sounds like you better get to work…" she said, fidgeting with her purse.
House looked at her, realising how tired and worried she was. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her and at the fact she was going to have to spend at least another couple of hours on the hellish plastic chairs of the waiting room. Suddenly he had a thought.
"You didn't get much sleep last night," he said and suppressed a grin at her blush. Maybe she'd had much the same night as he'd had? He wondered.
"Why don't you go lie down on the sofa in my office while you wait for your sister? She's going to be another couple of hours at least, so you might as well get some rest."
Jen was surprised and moved by his offer. But she didn't know whether she should accept. Logic told her she should be distancing herself from this man that had kissed her until her knees melted – that is until she'd made a complete fool out of herself by running away from him. But her exhaustion and the kindness in his eyes won out.
"That would be so nice of you. I'm beat."
"Come on."
House was back in the clinic about twenty minutes later, Cuddy thankfully not seeming to have noticed his disappearance. He'd stolen a cotton blanket from the clinic and shown Jen up to his office, unlocking the door and showing her to the sofa. He then left, promising to call her cell phone once her sister was ready to go home. He was proud of himself for his small act of charity and also for not pushing her down on the sofa and taking up where they'd left off last night. After copping a look at her breasts in that t-shirt, he still really, really wanted to do that.
Instead, he found his way into the temporary curtained exam area, calling forward his first patient, praying it wasn't an STD.
--
House wondered if he'd entered an alternate universe since going to sleep last night. This was his second, unpremeditated, totally altruistic gesture of the day. Well, maybe not totally altruistic, he admitted, as he glanced over at Jen's tight t-shirt for about the tenth time in the last five minutes.
Sarah Edwards was slumped in the backseat of his car, half asleep from the drugs still working their way out of her system. Jen was in the passenger seat, thanking him profusely for the ride home, still annoyingly fidgeting with her purse strap and babbling away, trying too hard to explain herself. They'd arrived at the clinic in a cab, Jen said, because she didn't have a car and she couldn't find Sarah's keys.
When Sarah had been discharged about the same time as House had knocked off – having got through more clinic patients in three hours than most other doctors saw in a day – he'd called Jen to let her know. But then on his way home he'd seen the two girls out the front of the hospital in the rain, trying vainly to hail a cab. With a sigh for his long-suffering kindness and vague calculations about just how grateful Jen might be, he'd pulled the car up and offered them a lift. Just as well he hadn't brought the bike, he considered.
When they arrived at the girls' apartment, he not-very-helpfully helped Jen get Sarah out of the car and into their place. He hung around in the living room while Jen led Sarah up a corridor and into a bedroom.
"Might want to give her a bucket," he called out cheerfully.
Jen muffled thanks over her shoulder and an instruction to make himself at home.
House looked around. It was a typical woman's house, lots of stuff everywhere. A white sofa – who on earth had a white sofa, he thought – with far too many throw pillows and a shelf with antique cups and saucers displayed on it. But there were interesting prints on the walls: Chagall, Picasso, Matisse.
There were also lots of boxes lying around the place, as if they hadn't quite finished moving in. House walked over and started flicking through one that had stacks of frames in it. On the top were a couple of studio family portraits; mom, dad, and the two daughters, all smiles and loving looks. House felt both contemptuous and a little jealous.
The next frame was a certificate which at first glance House assumed was some quaint mock-up of a qualification from some crack-pot childhood education institution that had given Jen her kindergarten teaching certification. In House's mind it was like the Ponds Institute giving certificates to beauty therapists.
He saw "Jennifer Edwards" written in script and leant in closer. He let out a low whistle in surprise to discover it was an undergraduate degree from Yale and nodded his head, impressed.
He flicked over and actually did a double-take at the masters degree certificate from Oxford, England.
The quick look he had at the next certificate almost made him choke, but just then Jen re-entered the lounge.
"Would you like a coffee? I mean, it's the least I can do…" She was embarrassed by his kindness, and as nervous as hell about him being in her house, but hadn't felt able to refuse his offer of a lift when she'd seen how tired and sick Sarah was feeling.
She was also undeniably aware that he was taking up a lot of space in her lounge room. In fact, it felt a little like he was taking up all the oxygen too…
"You have a PhD?" House demanded.
Jen took a look at the box he was standing next to. It contained all the stuff that used to hang on her study wall at Matt's place. Well, back then it had been hers and Matt's place, but she couldn't think of it that way any more.
"Yes," she said simply.
"And you teach kindergarten?" House asked, amazed.
Jen was confused by his question. Her puzzlement showed on her face and momentarily distracted her from her panic.
"No. What made you think I taught kindergarten?" she asked.
Then House realised she'd never said she was a kindergarten teacher. That had just been Wilson's guess and when she said she worked with children, House had made the assumption that Wilson had been right. He was cross with himself; he didn't normally make mistaken assumptions like that.
"You work with children," he said, not admitting that he'd been wrong.
"Yes."
"So what is your PhD in?"
"Actually it's in philosophy."
"Philosophy." House's voice had a yeah, right tone to it.
Jen didn't miss his tone. It wasn't the first time she'd had to defend her qualifications.
"Yes, philosophy. My thesis was on the influence of language on meaning and thought. Basically the impact that the vocabulary we use has on our thoughts and creativity." She could see House was still looking at her doubtfully. "I compared the theories of Wittgenstein with more modern cultural references like George Orwell's 1984. You know, newspeak."
House nodded. He was slightly ashamed to admit that his impression of Jen had just gone up. He hadn't realised he was that much of a snob. But knowing she was educated made her a little more in his eyes than just a potential conquest.
"Coffee?" Jen asked again. She could see that knowing about her education had changed his impression of her. Generally most men were scared of it. Scared that she might somehow outshine them, even if they were fellow academics. She didn't get that sense from him.
She turned away from him and moved into the kitchen, putting on water to boil and pulling coffee grounds from the cupboard.
House followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the tiny table in the corner without waiting to be asked.
"So you teach philosophy to children," he said, mockingly.
"Yes. I find that eight-year olds are very interested in Nietzsche's concept of eternal return," she replied cuttingly, surprised at her own sassiness. But when the topic was her work she felt more confident, more at ease with herself.
House grinned at her.
Jen blushed and looked away, wondering if she'd ever be able to meet that smile without feeling her knees go weak. She busied herself with coffee preparations, making it European style with a coffee pot on the stove.
"I hope you like your coffee strong," she said.
House thought about making a joke about liking his coffee like he liked his women, but decided it would be too clichéd.
"So, seriously, what do you do?" he asked.
Jen pulled small espresso cups from a cupboard and put them onto a tray.
"Well, you'd be surprised, but a PhD in philosophy doesn't exactly qualify you for much," she explained with a rueful smile at the joke. "Mostly they expect you to become a lecturer. But by the time I finished, I was over academia."
She didn't bother to explain that her reluctance to take up a lecturer's position had been one of the contributing factors to her break up with Matt. She'd met him at college and they had spent the next thirteen years more or less still at college. They'd even moved to London together where they had both completed masters degrees. Then they'd returned home to do PhDs, hers in philosophy, his in English literature. It was all part of Matt's plan for them, to end up academics at an Ivy League institution, working side-by-side, perhaps even authoring a few articles together. Sometimes Jen had been so trapped by her life with Matt she didn't know where his life finished and hers began. In contrast to the wishes of romance novelists, it wasn't a pleasant feeling.
"I used my knowledge of linguistics to get a job helping people who need speech therapy." Jen picked up the tray with the brewed coffee and moved over the table, setting down the tray and taking a seat. She reached over to pour them both cups from the coffee pot.
"I'm not a speech therapist," she quickly added, remembering that he was a doctor and would know what that speciality entailed. "I just help people with language difficulties. Sometimes with talking, sometimes reading, sometimes writing. Whatever needs they have. I'm kind of like a coach."
"So you work with disabled kids," House said. Silently he added, God, could Wilson have picked a more Wilson-like chick for me even if he'd tried?
"Yeah, often they're disabled. Other times they've been in accidents." She shivered. "Sometimes it's worse than that. There's a twelve-year-old boy I'm working with now who was beaten so badly by his father that he was brain damaged. He managed to read a full sentence aloud this week." She smiled proudly at the memory.
House looked down at his coffee. He picked up the cup and downed a mouthful of the steaming, bitter drink.
"Good coffee," he said.
"Glad you like it. And glad you like it black. Sarah and I say 'creaming's cheating'," she giggled.
House gave her a funny look.
"How's your sister?" he asked.
"She pretty much fell asleep as soon as I got her into bed. I think she'll be out for a while."
Jen took a sip of her coffee and put it down on the table. Just as she looked up, about to say more about her work, she saw House lean in closer to her.
"So she'll be asleep for a while then," he said with a flirty tone. His hand reached out and touched her shoulder, running his fingers lightly down her arm.
Jen swallowed hard. She had lost that feeling of helplessness and inadequacy while they were talking about her work, while she was on safe ground. Suddenly she felt all off-balance again. She was instantly conscious of how ragged and tight her t-shirt was – no doubt it was clinging unattractively to the spare tyre round her middle.
"What…what did you have in mind?" she asked nervously, pulling on her t-shirt hem, trying vainly to stretch it out.
He smiled at her, a slow, suggestive smile. Jen didn't know whether to giggle or run away.
"Well, Doctor Edwards, I thought we might discuss existentialism," he said, stressing her title. "Like Jean-Paul and Simone would have."
Jen laughed at his joke about the French philosophers and lovers.
She looked into his eyes and knew she wanted more of what she'd had last night. But she wanted it at her own pace. She took a deep breath and decided to be bold.
"Tell you what," she suggested. "I'm not sure whether or not I got that kissing thing just right. Care to give me a little more coaching?"
House raised an eyebrow. He interpreted her comment as a 'no' to sex. Although perhaps, if he played his cards right, it might turn into a 'maybe'. He didn't want to go home frustrated again, but maybe she'd at least let him get to second base. Which wasn't too bad a way to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon…
