Chapter 11

Billy Idol Lives

Maia was already in surgery when Smithers showed up. She found House in his office laying back in the chair. She thought he looked extremely tired and worried even though she found House handsome with a bad boy attitude, something she loved in a man. What he saw in Maia she wasn't sure, but she thought Maia was a lucky woman.

"Dr. House?"

House looked up at the pretty brunette, wondering if she knew just how pretty she was. "Wow, the Calvary to the rescue. A little late don't you think? When were you going to take her seriously? You should ask Tritter to take this case, at least he's tenacious."

She pulled up a chair, "Look, it's hard to convince my bosses that a famous cocaine shooting attorney who gives lectures in her underwear was forcibly given cocaine as a part of some diabolical plot to kill her. But, you have our attention now; we believe you. What happened this evening?"

He spent the next twenty minutes telling her what happened. Then he asked his own question, "Who is the dead man?"

"He's one of Paul Giovanni's soldiers, part of the Torino family. We need to know why the mob is after Maia?"

House sat up and looked at her, chuckling, "The mob? The mob has been trying to kill her?"

"Well, if Paul Giovanni wanted her dead, they would have shot her right there. They wouldn't have even gotten out of the car. We need to know why he wanted to meet with her. According to the crowd, they weren't trying to hurt her when she was shot. She took the bullet when they shot at you."

House stared with conviction, "I ran."

She could see that he felt guilty, upset. "I know. But like you said, she told you not to be a hero. You did what she told you to do and she was right. Your phone call got the ambulance there in record time. It gave her a better chance to live."

He chuckled, "Don't patronize me. I know what I did. I saved my own ass and let her swing in the wind." He shook his head and snickered, "I had decided that I was going to let her know how I feel about her when we got home."

Smithers could see that he was angry with himself, "You still can."

He stared at her, his blue eyes searching hers, "But do I? I mean, how many people love someone and let them face a bullet?"

"Someone who'd been shot before. We do strange things Dr. House. In this case, rather than be a statistic, you went to get help. There wasn't much you could do up against a gun. Running to get help was the intelligent thing to do."

"Yeah? But how do I face her when she wakes up? If she wakes up?"

"How is she doing?"

"The surgeon didn't look too happy. But then he rarely looks happy around me, I fired him last year."

She stood up. "We have someone ready to guard her. We'll be back to interview her if she wakes up. The FBI is sending someone in."

"FBI?"

Smithers shrugged her shoulders in defeat, "Mob."

House nodded. "Christ, I think she ought to just move into the hospital, she's spent enough time here."

"Yeah, but as you know, she's not safe here either. I feel bad, if my boss had believed both of you earlier, this might not have happened. I'll be in touch."

House watched the news and the interview of the bartender who shot Giovanni's soldier.

"A man came into the bar and said that someone was trying to kidnap a woman outside. I didn't even think; I was special forces in the first Gulf War. I grabbed my gun and went outside. There was a man with her who had gotten free and was getting away. The guy with the gun took aim and shot at him. The woman jumped in front of the gun. The second shot hit her. She dropped and I could see he was going to shoot her again, so I shot him. Dead."

House turned it off just in time to see Wilson walk into the office.

"Are you okay?"

House frowned and nodded, "Yeah."

Wilson furred his brow, "The mafia? What is she doing mixed up with the mafia?"

House stared into space, sat up and leaned forward, "I don't know, but maybe there's someone who does." Walking to his desk, he started searching the internet. Once he found what he needed, he dialed as Wilson watched. The phone rang and House heard someone pick up.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Cole, this is Dr. House. I came out to your house with Maia."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sure you've heard that Maia was shot."

"Yes, how is she?" Michael asked.

"Holding on so far. I need to know if there were any cases Maia handled that you think involved the mafia?"

"She was pretty fearless when it came to prosecuting cases, but I don't remember taking on any Mafiosa or mafia interests."

House was surprised. "What about before you joined the firm?"

"Nah, she would have said something. Besides, we're talking a case that would be older than six years. Why would someone wait that long?"

"Maybe they were in prison?" House suggested.

"The mafia wouldn't wait. They have enough people on the outside to take out their revenge right away."

House had to agree. "Well, if you think of anything, please call me."

Cole snickered, "Dr. House, the FBI was here just an hour ago. If I remember anything, I'll be calling them. But, take good care of her. She really is a good person inside. Tell her I hope she gets well soon."

House rolled his eyes, "Yeah, well good bye." He sat back, turning to look at Wilson, "Apparently, she wasn't involved with any cases involving the Mafia."

Wilson shook his head, "Then why are they interested in killing her?"

"I don't know. At first they wanted to kill her, now they want to kidnap her. Something happened between yesterday and today."

"Maybe not. Maybe they wanted to kill the two of you after taking you somewhere secluded."

"They had a chance to drive by and kill us without kidnapping us, but they didn't. The only reason he shot at me was that I was expendable and had seen his face. They wanted Maia to believe that they were serious. He wanted to keep me to keep control over Maia. Maia has something they want."

Wilson shook his head and scowled, "But, if she has it now, she had it when they were trying to kill her. It doesn't make sense."

House rubbed his head and stared off, trying to figure out the puzzle. He stood up and went to the white board. He wrote, 'Maia', Pears, shots, cocaine. Kidnap. Mob. Sex talk. Lawyer. Waitress. Broke.

Wilson wrinkled his nose, "Sex talk?"

"Maia is Cali. The woman who I used to phone for sex talk."

Wilson's eyebrows went up, "You're dating the woman who speaks dirty on the phone to men?"

"Yeah. She's good."

"Don't you find that…odd?"

"I found it to be a lot of things, but not odd."

House kept staring. "There's a piece of the history that we don't have."

"Greg! Greg! Greg!" Maia started flailing and screaming. The intensive care nurse came running.

She held Maia's arms down, "Calm down, calm down, you'll rip out your stitches. Be careful."

"Greg, where's Greg? Where?" Maia was inconsolable.

"Do you mean Dr. House?"

She nodded, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Not a scratch. Calm down." The nurse checked her vitals, the IVs and then left to call Chase.

Chase looked through the glass, but didn't see House in his office. He went down to the cafeteria and searched for him. He found him seated with Wilson eating what looked like a steak sandwich. Chase stood, arms crossed, "House, she's awake and asking for you."

House studied Chase and kept on chewing.

Chase was annoyed, raising his voice, "House, she needs to see you. She's been agitated, worried about you. We tell her you're okay, then sedate her and she calms down, but when she comes back up, shegets nervous again, starts asking for you."

House nodded, acknowledging that he heard, but kept eating.

"I don't get it. She took a bullet for you and you're more interested in the sandwich than her health."

"If she's able to ask for me, she must be doing better. I heard you."

Turning abruptly and exiting at a fast clip, Chase went back up to his patient. She was awake and frightened.

Maia's hair was matted, lips chapped, circles around her eyes, "You keep telling me that he's okay, but I don't see him. You're lying to me."

"I'm not lying. He's well and eating a sandwich in the cafeteria."

"No, I'm not. I'm right here."

Chase turned and saw House leaning on his cane and smiling devilishly.

Maia tried to sit up, but Chase held her down. "Maia, you need to stay flat for right now. Stay horizontal."

House walked over and leaned down. He pushed her hair back and kissed her on the lips very softly. "You didn't have to jump in front of the bullet."

"I didn't mean to, I just thought I could stop him from taking another shot at you. What happened?"

"A bartender with a big shotgun intervened. He killed the guy."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "Why? Why me?"

"I don't know, but I need to ask you some questions. The guy who shot you was mafiosa. Can you tell me if you've had any connection to the Mafia at all? Cases, sex talk, waitress?"

"I don't think so. I don't remember anything connected with the mob, except drugs. I'm sure my dealer was Italian."

"Did you stiff him? Not pay your debt?"

"No, I always made sure he got paid, that's how I got into trouble."

"Well, keep thinking."

House sat down in the chair next to the bed. He grabbed the remote control and turned on the television, surfing through the channels while Maia watched. Reading her vitals, he adjusted her saline intake.

"Greg, wait. I want to watch the news. Is there any news about what happened?"

"Lots, but nothing new."

Maia looked up and saw Smithers walk through the door looking glum. Maia tried to raise up, but House pushed her shoulder back down. Maia turned her head to look at House and smiled sheepishly, remembering Chase's admonition.

House growled, "Jesus Christ, Maia, don't you know when to stay down?"

"Good afternoon Ms. Connelly. We have a few questions. First, how are you?" Smithers turned to House for a response.

"She'll pull through unless you guys screw up again and they get in here."

Smithers smiled at Maia, "That isn't going to happen. We have two men on guard inside the hospital and one man on each entrance." She paused and took out a tape recorder, sat it on the tray and turned it on. "Ms. Connelly, can you tell us what happened?"

Maia looked at House who said nothing, but stared straight ahead. She told her all she could remember before blanking out.

"Maia, did you ever represent or have a case against someone in the mafia or connected to the mafia?"

She shook her head. "The closest I ever got was my case against the 186, but they aren't Mafia, are they?"

Smithers shook her head. "If it helps, we've ruled out Michael Cole as having anything to do with this. He didn't send you the pears."

"I already knew that. Mike's an upright guy." Maia's eyes followed Smithers as she packed her stuff to leave.

"Well, thanks for your time Ms. Connelly. The FBI will be by tomorrow to talk to you. Oh, by the way, you were friends with Phil Otterlie, right?"

Maia nodded, "Phil more or less lived with me most of last year. We broke up six months ago. Why?"

Smithers gave Maia a look of understanding. Well, he and his pregnant girlfriend were found murdered in their bed this morning." Smithers watched Maia wince and start to cry, "Their house had been ransacked. Any idea why?"

Maia reached her hand out to House who didn't take it at first, but saw such sorrow in her eyes he couldn't help but console her. He took her hand and squeezed it. "For God's sake Maia, this is the guy who dumped you on Christmas and took all your possessions."

"He also loaned me money to rent my apartment, found odd jobs to feed me and got me through my withdrawal from coke. He did a lot for me."

Smithers walked back over, "Maia, I didn't realize you and Phil were close. This means that there's probably a connection."

"So whoever is doing this to me, did it to Phil?" '

House smiled, "They didn't like him taking their microwave."

Maia started crying. "So, whatever I did or know got Phil killed?"

"Maybe, we'll have to look at it a little closer." Quietly crossing the room to the sliding doors, Smithers nodded to House and left.

House tried to ignore the whimpering Maia, but couldn't. He couldn't stand that she was crying for the asshole that had gotten her pregnant, left her and took the pillow. He got up and went over to her.

House looked down at her and yelled, "Stop crying over that jerk."

Maia gasped air and looked horrified, "How can you be so mean?"

"Mean? That guy knocked you up and dumped you on the day you had a miscarriage. Get a grip!"

She burst out sobbing. House shook his head and watched as her blood pressure began to rise and her wound started seeping blood. He looked around, leaned down and kissed her. She hit him on his shoulders and back, but he didn't budge.

She started to calm down. He lifted up a little, looked into her eyes and then kissed her again. This time she kissed back. She could feel his tongue pushing into her mouth, barely touching the tip of hers. He smelled like a man, part aftershave, part musk. She reached around his head and pulled him in even closer.

He felt so many strange and disturbing things. House was so happy to feel her again, to smell and touch her soft skin. But part of him was angry; angry at himself for letting her get shot, not protecting her. His failure to keep her safe embarrassed him for some reason. Maia seemed oblivious to the idea that he should have done more. House was frightened and worried. Who wants her dead? Who wanted to kidnap her and why? Is she going to get me killed too?

House pulled up, "You have to stay calm right now. Your wound is fragile and you need to get some rest. I'll be back in the morning. You sleep."

Maia reached up to touch his face as he bent over, "Greg, I'm so sorry to have dragged you into this. You should get out now. Once we figure out what's going on, then maybe we could try again. But I don't want you hurt. If I thought for one moment my actions hurt another person again, hurt you, I don't think I could take it."

He didn't smile, "Look I ran once; I'm not doing it again. Get some sleep and I'll be back in the morning."

She tried to search his face for some confirmation of how he felt. Was he doing this out of pity or because he cared? She couldn't tell and he wasn't saying. She thought back to the restaurant and his backtracking, telling her it was too soon to talk about love.

He grabbed his cane and made his way out the door without looking back. He knew she was watching him, but he didn't want her to make eye contact, to know that he still felt guilty.