CHAPTER 3

The next day had been a daze for House. He'd gone back and forth with Lime Green Boots for two hours, posting messages every ten or fifteen minutes. It was rather scary for him; he'd never experienced such an attraction to a woman so quickly and in such a non-verbal way. House woke up thinking about her that next day.

That morning, as he was heading toward the elevators, House had been so distracted by his previous night's missives that he didn't notice he was walking straight into someone until that person grunted and fell to the hallway floor with a 'Humfff'.

He realized immediately it was Eileen Simons, and Eileen realized it was him the minute she saw his sneakers and cane. She took a moment to gaze at his black Vans skateboarders before she looked up and narrowed her eyes into his. "Watch what you're doing you oaf!"

"Oh is that the best you can do? I'm surprised I could knock you over… Fatty."

"Who are you calling 'Fatty', Forrest Gimp? 'Run Gimpy Run!'!" She was quite agile, standing up quickly, picking up her belongings, and straightening her red sweater twinset and mid-calf gray pencil skirt that hugged her naked legs. Expensive black platform pumps grazed her feet. She held her ground, staring him down and pulling herself up her entire 5'10"… well, more like 6' with her heels… height. She made quite an impressive sight, if House was honest with himself.

Of course, he wasn't. He never was.

House stared her down, quietly admiring her straightforward, ballsy approach to his clearly mean-spirited taunting. "At least when I run I don't cause an earthquake."

"You can run?"

"When I walk by a bakery the baker doesn't know me by my first name."

"And I don't make everyone run in terror when I walk into a room."

The hallway was quiet as everybody had stopped around them to stare at the spectacle. While most spectators to a catfight would've chosen a side by then, since House started this there was no other but Eileen's to choose. He stepped closer, his blue eyes roaming her face. "Do you want a piece of me?" He held up his hands, flexing his fingers in a taunting fashion. "Let's go, right now."

Eileen looked startled by the juvenility of the conversation but was saved by the intervention of the Boy-Wonder Oncologist. "What the hell is going on here?" Wilson's loud voice, louder than Eileen had remembered it ever being, startled everybody back to reality and they hustled away, leaving only the three doctors standing in the hallway.

"I was walking down the hall, minding my own business, when the Stay-Pufft Marshmallow Woman stepped in front of me and I knocked her down."

Eileen's eyes widened. "I don't believe this! One-Legged Jack here ran right into me. I was talking with someone here in the hall. He knocked me down then proceeded to verbally abuse me. I was just defending myself."

"No way! You called me an oaf!!"

"Awww…pooooor baby. My heart bleeds for you!"

"ENOUGH!" Wilson held up his hands, effectively shushing both parties. Of course, Wilson believed Eileen; to believe House would've been utter foolishness. "House, what is wrong with you? What did you tell her?"

"He told me…" She jumped in so as to make sure the story was told correctly. "…that he was surprised he could knock me over then called me 'Fatty'."

Wilson's eyebrow rose as he looked at House. "Well?"

"Well what?" House waved at the woman. He really didn't believe what he was about to say but he had his pride after all. "The woman's fat, a pig, huge, gynormous. Shall I continue?"

Wilson shushed House then looked at him as if he were insane. "Eileen Simons? Fat?" Wilson took his time examining her, clearly liking what he saw. "She is anything but fat. She's a tall, gorgeous woman."

House rolled his eyes. "Oh get off it. You just haven't plucked anyone in so long you think anyone's hot. Hell, I bet you think Mrs. Butterworth's got it goin' on."

"HOUSE!!!"

"What??"

"Apologize."

"To who? You, the Fatso or Mrs. Butterworth? I'm sure she could do better than you."

"Are we in grade school now?"

"Yeah and this is the lunchroom." House looked at Eileen who nonchalantly watched the conversation unfold.

Wilson was getting really upset now. "When you insult someone you apologize."

"Even if I don't mean it?"

"HOUSE!!!"

"No Dr. Wilson…" Eileen shook her head, her gaze blank as she watched House. "…don't waste your breath. I don't want him doing something he doesn't know how to do." She smirked wickedly at House. "I'm sure all his sexual partners feel the same." With that she twirled on her heel and marched down the hallway, leaving Wilson grinning and House fuming at her smooth lines, his neck craning to take in the beautiful curves that were hugged by her clothes, distracting both men more than either were prepared to admit.

*****

When Eileen got back to her office she shut and locked her door, leaned against it and battled a combination of angry, hurt and sadness. She knew she wasn't Cindy Crawford but to have to gall to say such a thing in public was beyond contemptible.

The silver lining of the situation was how she was handling House. She was quite proud of herself.

And her spirits continued to lift as she suddenly thought of the man she had met the previous night. Eileen pursed her lips to keep her giggling to herself. Well… 'met' was too specific. More like someone she flirted… shamelessly… with; someone she could be another form of herself with. Ok, flirt was the wrong word. They more like cyberfondled. She couldn't help it; she was swept up in the moment and in him. He was funny and intelligent and sexy as hell. She was free and sexy and someone she wasn't normally when she talked to him. It was incredible.

"What possessed me to join that board in the first place? And shoes, of all things? Tell me, do I look like a cowboy boot person to you?" She wasn't going to get an answer as she was talking to the thin air.

Maybe it was the pride she held in her lime green cowboy boots, the same ones she and her friends had found on a recent trip to Oklahoma City. She'd met these friends on another forum, and they all met each other in person for the first time in Oklahoma City. On their first day they stumbled into a huge country-western apparel store and took great fun in pointing out the obnoxious apparel and footwear. After giggling over a pair of exceptionally bright lime green leather cowboy boots, she bought the clearance footwear and now proudly displayed them on a shelf in her living room, if only to remind of her of the wonderful time she had with those friends. As if she needed any reminding; they talked every day and were planning another trip in the near future.

It was one of these friends that turned her on to The Shoe Board. Now Eileen was taking great fun in being someone completely different… yet really not different either… on the Shoe Board. Sure, she liked shoes but she hadn't been adventurous with them or with sex. Ok, yes, she'd had sex in stilettos and ballet slippers but those had been rush jobs, when her late husband had unconstrained sexual energy he needed to dispense of.

Eileen suddenly had the urge to visit the board. She hoped Orange Nike Runners was on. Pulling her personal laptop from her bag she powered it up and clicked over to the Shoe Board and, sure enough, there was ONR, as he liked to be called. Smiling broadly she clicked on his profile, then clicked 'Request private chat'. With a sigh she sat back, hoping he would come on…

*****