Chapter 9

"I thought you said House was coming," Wilson whispered to Angela as they sat in their private room before the funeral service.

"He said he was. Are you all ready to give the eulogy? Do you know what you're going to say?"

Wilson nodded. "Yeah."

"I would do it," Angela whispered, "but I'm petrified of speaking in public."

"How can you still be? You got up in front of countless schools and did presentations about bullying."

"That's different."

"How is it different? Those were total strangers you talked to."

"They were also kids. Believe me, it's much harder speaking to a group of adult people I know. And don't think for a second that I didn't feel like vomiting every time I had to give a presentation. It took everything in me not to. No matter how many times I do it, it doesn't get any better. So thanks for stepping up. Besides, you're used to this kind of thing. You're an Oncologist."

Wilson shook his head. "It's kind of different when it's your own sister that you're burying."

"It doesn't make it any easier being a daughter either."

The funeral director, a young woman around Angela's age, came into the room. "I think we're ready to start now. Is anyone else coming?"

"Have you seen a tall handsome guy with a three day beard and a cane?" Angela asked her, earning a poke from her uncle.

"No, I'm sorry, I haven't. But if he comes in, I'll help him find a seat. It's pretty crowded in there."

"Thanks."

She led them from their private room to the first row of chairs and Angela scoped the room but didn't see any sign of House. In a way, she really wasn't surprised. He never promised he'd be there, but he didn't say he wouldn't come, either.

The service wasn't very long and was over in thirty minutes. Angela stayed put in her seat as everyone else lined up to pass by her mother's urn on the way out. She wanted to go up there, she really did. But the reality of it all suddenly hit her and she couldn't make her body move.

"Are you coming?" Her dad asked her, once everyone had filed out. The wake and reception was just across the street at a nearby bistro.

"I just...want to sit for a bit. I'll be there soon."

David leaned over and kissed her forehead. "She loved you, you know. She was so proud of you."

"Thanks. I really need to believe that now."

When he left, the tears came so fast, that Angela was unable to stop them. She choked back a sob and covered her mouth with her hand. As she sat by herself, quietly weeping, someone held a box of tissues out for her.

"Thank-you," she sniffed as she took one, not bothering to look up.

"You're welcome," a familiar, yet soft voice spoke quietly. It was House.

She turned to look at him. "You came."

He winced. "Only because I'd never hear the end of it from Wilson if I didn't. I made it just in time."

"They said they'd tell you where we were sitting," she sniffed again as she blew her nose quietly.

"I'm not the type of guy who sits up front."

House looked at her. Her eyes were rimmed with tears but they looked strikingly blue. He didn't know why he hadn't noticed before. In his mind, she was still the fifteen year old tomboy from Baltimore. Wilson's pain in the ass niece who was always around. And yet, he never paid her much attention, or noticed that she was really quite pretty. Striking, was probably a better description. With her brown streaked hair, tanned skin and bright blue eyes, she was truly a vision. She had a small nose and a mouth with the nicest lips he'd ever seen.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked her, placing an arm across the back of her chair as he offered her another tissue.

"Yeah. I just...needed a good cry. I'll be fine. Are you going to the reception across the street?"

"Just for a little while. I can't stay too long. I have to get back to the hospital by three or the Wicked Witch of the West will have me in the clinic."

Angela giggled and sniffed again. "You mean Dr. Cuddy? She's nice."

"To you, she's nice. To me, she's a screeching harpy."

"Gee, tell me how you really feel." She got up and stood in front of her mother's urn. Beside it were two pictures of Jennifer, young and old. One of them had her holding Angela as a baby.

"Nice pictures. You're going to look a lot like her when you're older."

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's good."

Angela looked at the pictures one more time and then burst into tears. This time, House actually wrapped his arms around her as she cried all over his suit jacket.

"Go ahead, ruin my favourite jacket," he murmured, pretending to be put out, but he was merely trying to hold himself together. Crying females were his weakness and he was never good at showing his vulnerability. Not that he ever wanted to.

"S-sorry."

"Come on. Let's get across the street before all the good food is gone."

"Okay."

At the wake, David and Wilson were both wondering what happened to Angela when she and House arrived together. He made a beeline for the refreshments while Angela held onto her dad for dear life.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered as he stroked his daughter's hair.

"I know. It just hurts."

"It will for awhile. But like anything else, you get through it."

"Here, drink this," House interrupted as he handed Angela a drink from the bar.

"What is it?"

House rolled his eyes. "It's not Hemlock. Just drink it."

Angela hesitated and sniffed the clear liquid. It smelled like Gin so she drank it and it tasted heavenly. She really needed it.

"Thanks, House."

"Want another?"

She handed him her empty glass with a smile. "Please."

"Women," he snarked as he rolled his eyes and headed back to the bar for another round.

"Did House see the whole service?" Wilson asked her.

"I don't know. I didn't see him in the crowd at first. But then once everyone left, he was suddenly there. He has to get back to the hospital by three."

Wilson glanced at his watch. "So do I."

House returned with a refill for her and a scotch for himself. Then he raised his glass. "To Jennifer Sorentis."

"Here, here," David nodded as they all clinked their glasses together and took one long drink.

"Well that was fun," House sighed. "Gotta go."

"I'm assuming you need a ride," Wilson glared at his friend.

"Well duh. I might've cabbed it here but I knew my loyal old pal would also be returning to the hospital."

"Wow, you really are a freeloader, aren't you?" Angela said, turning to House.

"I'm not a freeloader..."

"He's the freeloader," Wilson laughed. "Come on, House. We gotta head back." He gave Angela and David a hug and then went out to bring the car around.

"Feel better?" House inquired of her as he finished the rest of his drink and placed the empty glass on a nearby bus tray.

"Yes. Thanks. We should do this again."

He nodded. "But without all the crying next time. Crying females aren't my thang. Anyhow, there's Wilson pulling up. Gotta run. See ya around, Dave."

Angela and her father watched him limp out of the restaurant and David shook his head. "I can't believe you just asked him out. At your Mother's funeral, no less."

She rolled her eyes. "I was being polite. He was sweet to me today. I doubt I'll hear from him again."

Once House got into the car and buckled up, he braced himself for what would surely be a re-enactment of the Board of Inquiry.

"So where were you?" Wilson demanded.

"I was there. I heard your Eulogy. It was truly moving. Who picked the song?"

"Angela did."

"Good choices. But then you can't go wrong with a kid's choir."

"That wasn't a kid's choir. That was a song by Moby."

House looked shocked. "No way. Moby at a funeral?"

"It's called 'My Weakness'. Very moving. I don't think there was a dry eye in the place after that song ended."

"Didn't seem to be. So why did everyone desert her?"

"She wanted to stay behind and have a few minutes to herself. What amuses me is that you two arrived at the wake together."

"So?"

"You like her."

"That's a relative term. She's still your pain in the ass niece. It feels weird to think of her as anything else. And she's half my age."

"What could you possibly have in common with each other?"

"I have no idea. I don't plan on finding out."

"Why not?"

House narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, why not? Just a few weeks ago you were against the very idea of my interest in her."

Wilson laughed. "Ah-ha! So you are interested in her!"

Crap!

"So what next? Gonna send her flowers?"

"She doesn't strike me as the kind of girl who likes flowers."

"Hmm, good point. What then? Angela is...hard to please. If you want to get her attention, you need to put the effort in."

"I don't know about that," House chuckled.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"She kind of...asked me out. Uh...the light is going to turn red any second."

Wilson slammed on the brakes and managed to stop the car just in time. "What did you say?"

"I said, she asked me out."

"She did? What exactly did she say?"

"She just said we should have a drink again sometime. Pretty simple."

"What did you say?"

"Just that I could do that, as long as she didn't cry."

Wilson rolled his eyes, and the light turned green.

The clickety-clack of Cuddy's heels made House wince as soon as he entered the front doors of the lobby. "House! Clinic! Now!"

"Geesh! I was just at a funeral. Have some respect for the dead!"

Cuddy stood close and then took a whiff. "Have you been drinking?"

"Those Irish...they love their wakes," House grinned. "I might be of better use upstairs. In my office. Doing a differential."

"You have a patient?"

"If my underlings have done what I asked before I left, then yes."

Then, as if by magic, his pager went off. "Wow! How cool was that? People dying! Gotta go."

"You still owe me three clinic hours. I want them done first thing in the morning. Before you do anything else."

House gave her his best submissive stare. "Yes, Mistress."

X X X

Wilson stepped into the elevator and held it open for House. When the doors closed, Wilson turned to him. "So, have you thought about it?"

"About what?"

"Your date with Angela."

"Who said it was going to be a date? She asked me out, remember? Shouldn't she come up with something?"

"Traditionally, yes. But when have you ever done anything by tradition?"

"Good point. I'll give her three days to call me. If she doesn't, it was obviously not an invite and I'm off the hook."

The elevator doors opened and they headed down the hall to his office. "Think about it, House. It's not the end of the world."

"What's not the end of the world?" Cameron asked him, overhearing the end of the conversation.

"Nothing. What's up? Did you find us a patient?"

"Actually, the patient found us."

"Great. Symptoms. On the board. Go."

A/N: Tee hee! I guess you could call this a transitional chapter :) More to come. I might be persuaded to post another chapter tonight. We'll see.