House had "borrowed" a remote-controlled car from the Paediatric Ward and was constructing an obstacle course for it on the long table in his outer office. He used office supplies, textbooks, and cutlery to create a circuit that would have challenged Mario Andretti. Taub and Foreman watched him wordlessly. Taub looked bored, as if such juvenile games had no interest for him, but Kutner was excited and eager to try his skill.

The sound made by the stiletto heels of an angry woman is unmistakeable. House looked out the clear glass walls of the office, expecting to see Cuddy. She would be furious, he thought, because he had charged the hospital for the "massage therapy" session that he had ordered for his last patient – a dying seventeen-year-old who had never experienced sex. The angry woman in heels wasn't Cuddy, however. It was Wilson's second ex-wife, Bonnie. She directed a single venomous glance at House, and then strode past his office. She opened the closed door to Wilson's office without knocking or even pausing. Curious, House got up from the table and went out into the corridor.

"How long have you been sleeping with him?" Bonnie demanded, "Were you sleeping with him while we were married? Did you cheat on me with House?"

Wilson and his patient were sitting on either side of his desk. They both looked up.

"I'm with a patient now, Bonnie. If you can wait a few minutes, we can discuss this later."

"I've been waiting long enough to find out the truth. Don't you think you should have told me that you were gay before we got married? It wasn't fair to hide that from me! I had to find out from strangers!"

Realizing that Bonnie wouldn't wait, Wilson tried to conclude his patient's visit as quickly as possible.

"You're newest test results look good, and I'm glad that the new medication is helping with your nausea. I think we've covered about everything. I'd like you to schedule another appointment with my receptionist for next week, please. I'm very sorry for this interruption."

"It's okay," said the patient, who seemed reluctant to leave.

Wilson stood up from his desk, and held out his hand, compelling the patient to get out of his seat to take it. He ushered him to the door. The patient had to squeeze past Bonnie, who was standing in the doorway and didn't move an inch.

"Good bye, Mr. Shawcross. I'll see you again next week."

"Are you ashamed that everyone will find out that nice Dr. Wilson was screwing another man behind his wife's back? You should be ashamed!" Bonnie's voice was loud and carried down the hallway. People turned their heads to stare. Wilson turned pink.

"I'm not ashamed of my relationship with House. It's just not appropriate to discuss my private life in front of patients and staff. It's none of their business." Wilson spoke quietly.

"It's none of your business either," House pointed out. "You're not married any more. I always told Wilson he could better than you, and I was right. You're the worst real estate agent in New Jersey, and you snore like a walrus with sinusitis. At least, Wilson doesn't have to wear earplugs when he's sleeping with me."

Bonnie ignored House's interruption, but Wilson glared at him, not appreciating his interference.

House disliked Bonnie, who telephoned Wilson to tell him her troubles and asked him to do her favours. Wilson could have used the time he wasted on Bonnie making House happy. Just a few weeks ago, for example, Wilson had spent the better part of a Sunday morning putting up Bonnie's storm windows, when he could have been at home making House macadamia nut pancakes. House would much prefer it if Bonnie behaved like a typical ex-wife and avoided her ex-husband.

"The whole time, every time you said you were out bowling, or watching movies and eating pizza, you two were ... it's too disgusting. I can't even say the words. How could you betray me like that?"

"I didn't betray you with House. We were doing exactly what I said we were doing. I only cheated on you once. You already know about it, and it wasn't with House. Come into my office, and we can talk privately."

Bonnie looked at her ex-husband, wondering whether he was lying to her. He seemed sincere, but how could she trust him? He had demonstrated quite conclusively that he was not who he seemed to be. He had pretended to be one kind of person and had turned out to be quite another.

""Even when you were married, Wilson preferred eating cold pizza with me in my apartment to going home and having sex with you," House called out.

The office door slammed behind Bonnie, and silence briefly descended. Then the staff and patients who had been listening to the argument went back to their regular activities.

-----

House had run the remote-controlled car through the circuit a couple of times, but he was too distracted to enjoy himself. He had then passed the remote-controlled car over to Kutner, who was proving surprisingly adept at motor sports.

"It's been over half an hour," House said. "What do they have to talk about anyway? 'I'm with House now. Get over it.' Should take thirty seconds."

"It's only been twenty minutes," Taub said. "Shall we discuss finding another case? Dr. Fisher referred one of his patients to us."

"He's in Gerontology. Why waste our time trying to figure out what's wrong with a ninety-eight year old? We'll cure her and then she'll just pop her clogs anyway."

House brooded, and then threw a ball at the office wall he shared with Wilson. He knew the thumping noise could be heard on the other side of the wall, despite the sound-proofing.

"How about the referral from Neurology?"

"Bo-o-oring!"

"I thought that case sounded pretty interesting," Kutner said.

"That because you're a moron," House replied, "and you're easily entertained. I bet you spend your evenings watching paint dry. Or watching CSI Miami, which has the same entertainment value.

I think I should phone Cuddy, for the sake of the hospital. She should know that Wilson is spending so much of the hospital's time socializing with his ex-wives."

"You were spending the hospital's time building an obstacle course out of boxes of paperclips," Taub pointed out.

"Yes," House said, "but as part of my brilliant diagnostic process. Loosens up all my creativity and makes my synapses snap. It's productive, whereas what's Wilson is doing is just time theft. At the very least, Cuddy should assign him extra clinic hours."

"Wilson doesn't mind clinic hours," Kutner said.

Taub gave up his attempt to be business-like and professional. It was hopeless while Kutner was playing with toys and House was obsessed with whatever was happening on the other side of his office wall.

"Are you going to let me have a turn?" he asked Kutner, holding out his hand for the remote control.

House got up and headed for the balcony. He scaled the low dividing wall which separated his part of the balcony from Wilson's and tried to peer in the glass doors. Wilson had one of Bonnie's hands in his own, and was leaning forward, talking earnestly to her. All he could see of Bonnie was the back of her head. Wilson looked up, spotted House, casually got out of seat and strolled toward the balcony. He clearly mouthed the words, "Go away, House" and closed the blinds.

------

At noon, Wilson and Bonnie finally left his office. Bonnie seemed composed and Wilson was actually smiling. He walked her to the elevator and pressed the down button. House expected him to kiss her on the cheek, say goodbye, and head back to his office, but he didn't. When House realized that Wilson meant to go with Bonnie, he headed for the elevator. He was able to wedge himself into the same crowded elevator that they were taking just before the doors closed.

"So where are you taking us for lunch?" he asked Wilson.

-------

The lunch was a disaster of course. House and Bonnie had never gotten along, and now Bonnie had more reason than ever to hate him. House had seemed so smug, so triumphant. Why shouldn't he be? If he and Bonnie had been in competition for James, he had definitely won.

The more Bonnie thought about House's relationship with James the angrier she became. It wasn't enough for House to destroy her marriage; he had to turn her husband queer as well! Wilson had seemed normal enough when she married him, and their sex life had been satisfying, at least for her. Maybe all the time he had been so concerned about giving her pleasure because he felt guilty about being gay. Maybe every time he had made love to her, he had been thinking of House.

Although she had been divorced from Wilson for years, the pain of this revelation was fresh and new. It made her see entire marriage in a new and disturbing light. She had been fully committed to their life together, but for Wilson it must have been a sham all along. She been an unwitting performer in an elaborate masquerade; she'd mistaken a canvas and paint backdrop for real life.

There was only one person she knew who could understand what she was feeling – Stacy Warner. She too must have been deceived. Bonnie had never much liked Stacy. Part of her dislike was because of Wilson's open admiration for Stacy and Greg. He had thought they were the perfect couple, and that had stung. Stacy had also seemed to be making fun of Bonnie and laughing at her, but in so subtle a way that Bonnie had never found the words to object. To tell the absolute truth, Stacy was a condescending bitch, but at least she would be as humiliated, angry and confused as Bonnie was once she knew the truth.

Bonnie found Stacy's phone number easily enough in an online legal directory.

"Hello, this is Bonnie, Bonnie Wilson."

"Bonnie Wilson?" Stacy didn't recognize the name. "My secretary said my realtor was calling. Are you from Mike's office?"

"No, I'm James Wilson's ex-wife. I'm a realtor now. You must remember me."

"Frankly, Bonnie, I don't think calling up old acquaintances and trying to sell them real estate is very professional behaviour. It's desperate and cheap, and I'm a busy woman and don't have time to waste on telephone solicitations. Besides I already have a realtor and I don't think he'd appreciate your trying to poach his client."

"I'm not calling about real estate," Bonnie said. "I just mentioned realty to get past your assistant. She didn't seem all that impressed when I said I was an old friend wanting to get back in touch with you. Sorry about that. So how are you and Mark?"

"I'm fine and I have no idea how Mark is. We're divorced now."

It is customary to offer regrets when you hear that a friend has been divorced, but Stacy did not sound at all perturbed or unhappy about the failure of her marriage, so Bonnie didn't bother.

"I'm actually calling you about Greg and James."

"Greg hasn't been in accident, has he?"

"No, nothing like that. James is living with Greg now."

"So he's staying with Greg. Did James get his heart broken again, and go to House's apartment for sanctuary?" Stacy sounded impatient. "I'm not sure why you're calling me, Bonnie. If it's just to pass on the latest gossip, you can leave me out of the loop."

"I didn't say "staying with", I said living with. James and Greg are living together. As in, they're a couple. They have sex. " Bonnie almost whispered the last three words.

Bonnie had hoped for a gasp of surprise or at least an expression of dismay, but Stacy seemed unconcerned.

"Greg and I used to joke about the possibility of a three-way with Wilson. We didn't think Wilson would go for it because he was such a straight-arrow. I guess Greg went ahead without me."

"You aren't in the least upset? You don't care that while he was with you, Greg was probably sleeping with my husband?"

"What makes you say that?"

"All the time that they spent together. James said they were watching old movies and talking, but we can guess what was really going on."

"Bonnie, I was there. Sometimes I was sitting on the couch between them. James wasn't spending all that time in our apartment because he was in love with Greg; he was there because he wasn't in love with you. He'd get drunk and say how sorry he was for ever marrying you because he didn't love you enough. He'd say how he ruined both of your lives.

I wasn't just trying to brush you off when I said I was busy. I'm wrapping up my practice here and moving back to Princeton, and I really can't afford to spend any more time gossiping. Thanks for letting me know about Greg. I'll have to phone him up and congratulate him. Bye."

Stacy hung up without waiting for Bonnie to reply.

---------------------

Stacy was packing up her office. She wore jeans and an old sweatshirt, her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and there was a dirty smudge on her forehead that she didn't know about. She'd been going through boxes and files all day. Her throat was irritated by paper dust, her back was sore, and she thought she could feel a cold coming on. Maybe her physical discomfort made her brusque with Bonnie, but honestly the woman had always tried her patience. When Wilson had first married Bonnie, he had described her as "charmingly naive", but Stacy preferred the term wilfully ignorant. Bonnie had a simplistic black-or-white view of the world, and she became distressed and hysterical whenever the complexity and ambiguity of real life threatened her perspective. For her, people were either straight (normal) or gay (abnormal), just as they were either tall or short, fat or thin.

Stacy had always liked James Wilson though. He'd been so encouraging to her after House's infarction. He'd steadfastly believed that Stacy and Greg could get past their difficulties and reconcile. She'd since realized that Wilson's belief in their future had kept them together for those last difficult months. It was only when Wilson finally gave up that Stacy knew that reconciliation was hopeless and that it was time for her to leave House. If even part of Bonnie's supposition was correct – if , for example, Wilson had loved House but had never told House or acted on his feelings – that made Wilson's efforts to keep House and Stacy together even more admirable. Perhaps he could even be described as altruistic in valuing House's happiness more than his own. Stacy knew that she herself was not capable of altruism. When she wanted someone or something, she went after it whole-heartedly and damn the consequences to anyone else.

There were only a couple more boxes to go before she could leave. She picked up her framed law school diploma, wrapped it in bubble wrap, and put it in the box. The next item was a photograph of Mark in a silver frame. Mark, she thought, had been such a comedown after Greg. She took the photograph out of its frame, ripped it two and tossed it in the wastepaper basket.