House woke to the distant sound of someone vomiting, but all he could think was that he was just grateful it wasn't him. His leg hurt, his head hurt and his mouth felt as if a passing cat had dropped its litter tray in there. Jen had put a glass of water next to the bed, but it was gone in two mouthfuls.
He looked around the dark room, estimating that he hadn't been asleep for more than a couple of hours; it was certainly still the dead of night. Jen was sleeping soundly, turned away from him, and she'd folded his clothes over the back of a chair across the room. His jeans pocket held his Vicodin which meant he was going to have to get up.
Carefully he rose, finding that Jen had left his cane next to the bed. He smiled, shaking his head in wonder at the small touch of kindness. Why she had even bothered to take him home in the first place was a bigger mystery, but one he wasn't prepared to get into – not with his head in the state it was in. He picked up the glass and found the Vicodin, palming a couple of pills until he could get more water.
He headed into the kitchen and filled the glass from the tap a couple of times, draining it and swallowing the pills.
"Avoid Sarah's room, her guy's been puking."
The voice from the sofa in the living room startled him so much he almost dropped the glass. He turned to see the third girl who'd been with Jen and Sarah at the bar sitting up from a temporary bed on the sofa, giving him a thorough look over.
He hadn't turned the light on so it was doubtful she could see much in the shadows, but he moved to hide his right side from her gaze. He hadn't thought to put on any clothes, unused to sharing living space with others, but he suddenly realised that it probably had been unwise to wander around such a female den in his boxer shorts.
"Thanks for the tip."
"You're Doctor Love, aren't you?"
House snorted with disbelief. "Is that what Jen called me?"
"No. That's what we called you after Jen told us what you did to her."
"Right." House was uncharacteristically lost for a witty comeback. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about Jen sharing the details of their sex with her friends. "Well, good night." He hoped that she would lie down on the sofa again so he could walk out of the kitchen.
"Yeah, good night." She didn't lay back. Instead, the woman rose from the sofa and walked towards him. She was wearing a white cotton camisole and white lace thong, her curly dark hair tousled and her long fingernails scarlet. She looked like something from a soft-core men's magazine come to life.
House was frozen in place, just watching as her bra-less breasts swayed as she walked. She walked right up to him, unnecessarily brushing against him to grab a glass from the sink, filling it with water and then leaning back to drink it. She brushed against him again as she sat it back down and then walked back to the sofa, clearly aware that her bare butt cheeks were visible to him.
House sighed, despite what was clearly on offer he was tired and hungover and wanted to go back to bed. And back to Jen. Jen who had scraped his drunken ass out of the bar last night and taken him to her home. And Jen, who, for reasons he still didn't understand considering her lack of confidence, managed to arouse more sexual desire in him with a glance than this woman's mostly naked body had. Eventually he decided that he didn't really care too much about sofa girl getting a look at his scar so he limped out of the kitchen, heading past the living room and back to Jen's room without a word.
"Dr Love?" She called out to him just as he had his hand on Jen's bedroom doorhandle.
"Yeah?" He squinted back into the gloom, instantly swearing under his breath for answering to the ridiculous name.
"When you get tired of Sandra Dee, I can give you a run for your money."
House paused, wondering if he'd actually just heard what he thought he'd heard. He opened Jen's door and closed it behind him without saying anything.
--
Jen woke up with the weight of Greg's arm and leg over her. Once again she was struck by the possessiveness and slight desperation in the gesture. He was part sexual predator, laying claim to his woman; part little boy, clinging to his teddy bear.
Unable to help herself, she twisted in his grasp to plant a light kiss on his forehead. In his sleep he wrinkled his nose in response and shifted in the bed, turning away from her.
Jen took a deep breath, expanding her rib cage after lying with the weight of his arm over her. She was hungry and thirsty, but she could hear Sarah giggling with some guy out in the living room. Jen had a lot to be grateful to her sister for, but putting up with some of the idiots she brought home was not an ideal part of their living arrangements.
She waited in bed until the giggling moved into Sarah's bedroom, the door slamming shut. She looked over to see if the noise had disturbed Greg, but he was still sleeping, snoring gently.
Jen got up and made herself some coffee and toast. She noted the blanket and pillows on the sofa that indicated that Fiona had stayed over, but she must have gone home. It was no wonder Fiona had left, Sarah was obviously busy so wouldn't be any company… and – she thought with a little startle of surprise – with Greg in her bed, so was she.
She hummed a little while she waited for her breakfast to cook, rummaging through a box of her books. For at least the fiftieth time she told herself that she really needed to unpack. Finally she found the book she was looking for and took her breakfast back to bed.
She'd finished both the coffee and toast, gone and poured herself another cup, and was well into the third chapter by the time House roused.
"Hello." She said quietly, smiling as he cracked one eye open, looking up at her leaning against a pile of pillows with her book.
"Hi." He had the good manners to look slightly ashamed of himself.
"How's the head?"
"Mmm." He made an indeterminate noise and she watched as he carefully took one of his pills from an orange bottle on the nightstand and drank the glass of water next to him. He lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes again, lying still for so long that Jen thought he'd fallen asleep again. She went back to her book.
"Are you really reading Kafka? In bed? On Saturday?" He was leaning up on one elbow so he could read the front cover of her book.
"Ah, philosophy PhD, remember?" she reminded him.
"Yeah, but Metamorphosis?" Jen felt herself blush, but she wasn't quite sure why she was embarrassed. Perhaps it was because the book had popped into her mind that morning and she'd felt a compulsion to read it. Maybe it was just because the main character's name was Gregor, and so she'd been reminded of it. But there was something more too. Something about the agony and anguish of transformation and losing your identity. Some of the things she was trying to work through herself.
Without turning into a giant insect, of course.
"Don't you have any of those chick lit novels everyone's reading these days?"
"Yes, but…" She was interrupted by him sitting up and reaching over her, half lying on her body as he examined the nightstand next to her. He grabbed the small pile of books resting there and flopped back into bed.
Jen was immediately battling warring thoughts: frantically trying to remember which books she had out and also trying to quash the instant arousal the weight of his chest against her breasts had provoked.
House put the pile books on his stomach and held them up one by one for examination.
"Janet Evanovich. Yeah, they seem to sell a lot of this in the hospital gift store. Any good?"
"Well, I like…"
He didn't let her finish, unceremoniously dumping the book onto the floor next to him before picking up the next one.
"Boring." The new linguistics text that a colleague in Oxford had sent her was tossed to the floor after he barely skimmed the back cover.
The next book, another heavy tome, this one about faith and religion in the twenty-first century, joined its predecessors on the floor.
"Also boring."
He picked up the next book between thumb and forefinger as if it was a particularly nasty bug. "Well, well, now we get to the real Jen Edwards. Trashy romance. I love it. The bad boy for love." He read the corny title aloud.
Jen cringed. Yes it was hers. She'd bought it when she was waiting to pick up her parents from the airport the last time they'd visited and their flight had been delayed. And yes, most embarrassingly, she'd really enjoyed it.
He started flicking through the pages, obviously looking for certain words to jump out at him. Jen looked down at the final book in the pile and felt her face flush with heat. The gynaecology guide that Sarah had loaned her was the last book lying on his stomach. She knew it was bookmarked at the chapter about sex which included diagrams of sexual positions. It was too much to ask that he wouldn't notice.
Jen took a deep breath and decided she wouldn't be embarrassed. It wasn't like it was the Karma Sutra. It was an educational book that she had every right to be reading. But still, she didn't want to watch when he picked it up.
"Coffee?" she asked, already getting out of bed. "Toast?"
He was still seemingly engrossed in the pulpy romance novel. "Yeah, that'd be great."
Jen spent a few minutes in the kitchen, loading a tray with coffees for each of them and toast and jelly for him.
When she came back in the room his head was in the dreaded book. Jen put the tray between them on the bed without comment.
"The labelling on the anatomy diagrams in this book is woeful," he said once she was back in bed.
"Well, I don't think it was written for medical practitioners."
He snorted dismissively and picked up the coffee, taking a long drink before putting it on the nightstand. He grabbed the toast and started eating, without looking up from the book or saying thank you.
"Yeah, no problem," Jen muttered in response to his lack of manners, settling back into bed with her coffee and book.
"Oh, don't worry about it. I'll thank you. I just have to wait until my head feels better."
"Oh." Jen wasn't quite sure what he meant. She thought she knew, but…
Abruptly he closed the book and tossed it into her lap, careful to avoid her hot coffee.
"I'm glad you're reading this. You should know more about your body than you do. But, stop when you get up to the menopause chapter. Trust me, that's news you can wait for."
"Right." Jen nodded, as if that was particularly useful advice.
He took another long drink of the coffee and sighed appreciatively. "I'm sure you know about adult learning principles. Adults learn by doing, not just reading?"
"Yeeesss," Jen answered hesitantly.
"So I'd like to do pages thirty-eight, thirty-nine and forty-three. In that order."
Jen swallowed hard. Suddenly nervous again. What if she was bad at them? Would he give her a chance to read the book again before she had to perform?
"And there'll be a pop quiz afterwards to test your understanding."
She laughed loudly, amused and half-wondering if he could read her thoughts. "What about your headache?"
"Well, not right now, obviously."
"Obviously."
He picked up the romance and starting reading again, seemingly engrossed in the chapter he'd found.
Jen watched him for a minute, curious, but he didn't look back at her, reading and munching loudly on the toast.
--
They spent at least another half an hour in bed, each reading their respective books and drinking their coffee. The apartment was peaceful until rhythmic banging started in the room across the hall. A loud, female, pleasurable sigh was clearly audible.
House looked over at Jen and raised an eyebrow.
Jen rolled her eyes. "Welcome to my weekend."
"This happens every weekend?"
"Just about."
"It all feels a bit like being in college. People sleeping on the sofa, listening to other people have sex…" House recalled the midnight conversation with the woman in the living room. He hoped she wasn't someone Jen counted as a close friend.
Another loud moan came through the walls.
"Sarah's a screamer," Jen confided.
"Surely that's something you don't want to know about your sister."
Jen shrugged. "I've got a lot to be grateful to Sarah for. If I have to put up with listening to her having sex, then I guess that's the price I have to pay."
"How long have you been living here?" House had seen the boxes around the place and even Jen's bedroom had an impermanent feel.
"Almost twelve months."
House was surprised. If he'd been asked to guess he would have said a few weeks, maybe a couple of months at a stretch.
"Why haven't you unpacked?"
He saw a confused look cross Jen's face and wasn't quite sure what to make of it. His question obviously unsettled her.
"Not enough storage in this place," she said finally.
He decided to let her get away with that for now.
"The girl sleeping on the sofa – she a friend of yours?" He saw her frown at him, obviously wondering how he knew about their guest. "I got up to get a drink during the night and saw her there."
"Oh." Jen nodded. "Fiona? Well, sort of. She's more Sarah's friend. But she's been nice to me."
"Right." House's tone was appropriately disbelieving, but he wasn't going to tell Jen Fiona had tried to pick him up. Besides, Fiona was a stunning-looking woman and he couldn't quite believe that it had really happened. Women like that did not go for old, crippled doctors, despite his fantasies.
Jen took a half a breath as if she wasn't sure whether or not to speak, but then she sighed and spoke, somewhat reluctantly. "I guess I lost a lot of my old friends in the 'divorce'. The friends I had were all friends that Matt and I had, as a couple."
"But he was the cheater. Don't the friends usually side with the wronged party?"
"Yeah, but he wasn't the one who changed his life as a result. I left academia, moved away from the campus, got a very practical, very hands-on job."
"And your friends didn't like that?"
Jen sighed. "It wasn't as clear-cut as that. When we'd get together our conversation was different. I had a different frame of reference. I was – I kind of hate to use these words – but I was more in the real world than they were."
"So you didn't have the same interests any more."
"Yeah. And Sarah has been great. Not many sisters would not only share their apartment but their friends and their social life."
"What does Sarah do?"
"She's the manager of a fashion store at the mall."
House shook his head wondering how two so completely different individuals could come from the same family.
"Either of you adopted?"
"What?" She looked offended.
"Nothing."
Jen paused and seemed lost in her thoughts. Her next comments sounded more like she was thinking aloud than information she actually meant to share. "But I can't hang off Sarah's life forever. She's great and her friends are nice, but I miss…" she trailed off.
"Intellectual stimulation?" House guessed.
Jen looked sheepish. "Yeah, I think so."
"That's fair enough. You've gone from circulating with PhDs to shop girls. I can imagine that's quite a come down."
Jen looked uncertain as if she didn't want to admit what House could clearly see was true.
"I think that's why I like…" She suddenly stopped herself from talking, turning away to check if there was any coffee left in her cup, despite obviously knowing it was empty and had been for a long time.
"Why you like what?" House pressed. "Me? Is that what you were going to say?"
Jen nodded slowly as if the admission was a struggle. House felt a sudden surge of something he could only describe as pride. It was bizarre.
"You're intellectual, but real. What you do is in the real world. But you can talk concepts too. That's what I like."
She turned and smiled at him and the honesty in her eyes made House nervous. He suddenly remembered his original purpose. He'd decided to seek out Jen again so he could rid himself of this little obsession he seemed to have with her. To slake his thirst for her sex and her sweetness.
The look they were sharing was broken by a loud male grunt from the room across the hall. Jen laughed and turned away.
"What's the time?" House asked.
"Almost noon."
"Come to my place for the weekend." He thought she'd jump at the offer and was surprised by her tentatively indrawn breath.
"Greg, about last night…" she said eventually.
Whatever she wanted to ask he knew he didn't want to answer, so he interrupted abruptly. "I know, I wasn't at my best. I'll make it up to you."
"It's not that." She shook her head. "It's just…"
She paused and House wondered what she was thinking. At that moment he couldn't read her at all.
Finally she smiled at him.
"Sure. Give me a minute to have a quick shower and get my things together."
--
A/N: Pages thirty-eight, thirty-nine and forty-three in the next instalment…
