James flew towards the floor falling hard and cracking his knee. "What the hell?"
Cuddy barely managed to stop herself from falling on top of Wilson who had taken a very hard slam into the floor. Cuddy heard a familiar voice and looked up quickly. Her mouth fell open at the sight of a very angry, red-faced Gregory House.
"Get up, you bastard!" House snarled at Wilson.
Wilson tried to stand but his knee wouldn't allow it. "Did you trip me?" James accused House. "And what the hell are you doing here?"
"Get up or I'll cane your ass right now!" House growled.
Cuddy couldn't move. She found herself staring at two men locked in angry words while trying to comprehend what was happening.
"I fucking saw what you did!" House snarled through gritted teeth. "I ought to kill you, you backstabbing son-of-a-bitch!"
"What are you going to do about it?" Wilson taunted. "I kissed her, so what? She liked it! Cuddy's not your property, House."
Cuddy was stupefied. These two idiots were fighting over her and she felt fear seeping into her bones. Her knees felt like they would give out and her hands began shaking. She wanted this yelling match to stop. She did what immediately came to mind. Cuddy ran. She ran out the door and down the street and flagged the first cab she could find leaving the two men to finish their fight or whatever idiots did in situations like this.
Cuddy heaved herself into the back of the cab and slid down for no apparent reason other than to hide herself from view. The cab driver glanced back at her through the rearview mirror. "Where to, lady?
"Just drive! Fast!" Cuddy began hyperventilating.
"You okay?"
"No, floor it! Cuddy snapped. She began to shake. The cabby eyed her and frowned but he did what he was told.
"You kissed Cuddy, you son-of-a-bitch!" House grabbed Wilson by the collar and yanked him up. For a crippled guy, House was surprisingly strong. Wilson howled, "My knee, you bastard!"
"Sucks, doesn't it, prick!" House laughed with a hard look. "Want to make it permanent?"
Wilson raised his hands in subservience. "I understand you're angry but you screwed up!" Wilson defended himself. "You had 'til 9 pm to make a move and you didn't!"
House glanced at his watch, "It's 9:11! What was I supposed to do? Propose? Tackle you? Steal her?"
"Where is she?" Wilson asked.
"What?" House replied.
"Cuddy? Where is she?" The pair of idiots glanced around looking for their boss and meeting the eyes of everyone in the gallery who'd stopped to watch the fisticuffs. The gallery was oddly silent.
"Dude, she booked outta here!" A grunge-looking artist type guy offered up, pointing to the door. "She's gone!"
House glared at the do-gooder and let go of Wilson in his trek to the door. "Wait just a damn minute, asshole!" Wilson hollered. "You tripped me!"
"You're lucky you're not dead!" House shot back and left the gallery. Wilson dusted himself off, rearranged his tie and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as he limped out of the gallery. He speed dialed Cuddy. No answer. He hung up and dialed again. Still no answer. Wilson popped the locks on his car and got in gingerly, careful of his banged-up knee. Putting the car into drive, James headed directly to Cuddy's home, just a few minutes behind a cranky House already speeding to the same location on a sleek motorcycle.
Showdown at Cuddy's cul-de-sac? Who Knows but it'll get juicy!