Pissing Contests

Cindy fumbled at the door until Wilson opened it, taking the more bulkier items out of her hands. "Thanks. From the lack of the sound of things I take it you found the meds." She pulled the duffle bag of piping through the door."

"He's finally resting comfortably. All this stuff's going to take the place of pain killers?" James couldn't fathom it.

"Some of the pain is from the fractures. A good portion from the infarction damage. Although I'm sure you're already aware of that."

Wilson nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd admit he was ready to fill a script for Vicodin.

Cindy removed her winter garment and headed straight for the bedroom. She was relieved to find Greg looking rather relaxed. His gaze was curiously disconnected. "How ya doing?"

He laughed. "Loopy."

She spied the prescription vial on the bedside table. "Uh huh. Wilson gave you one, then you helped yourself to another."

"Yeah," he smiled broadly, enwrapped by the movements his hands were making.

"Lovely, you're stoned. Wilson, I want you to see something!"

He rushed to her side, afraid by the tone of her voice. "What's wrong?"

She picked up the bottle. "There's a reason this doesn't stay within reach."

"Hi Jimmy," House giggled, drooling a bit.

"Once an addict, always an addict."

"I didn't-"

"No, you didn't think. Anything that relieves pain - alcohol, muscle relaxants, aspirin - becomes candy. That's why I didn't leave it in plain sight."

"What do we do, have him stomach pumped?"

"Nah, he'll be fine. Watch his vitals for the next few hours. He might pee the bed. Other than that, he should be okay - as long as he doesn't do that again." She wasn't sure if she should be mad at the guy. On the other hand, he was a doctor and should have known better; but then he wasn't much of a strong handed authority figure, able to take control of the situation. At least not when it came to Greg House.

"Now would be a good time to get the frame together. He'll still be relaxed when we put him in it. When it wears off, he won't feel crappy."

It took a while to erect the aluminum poles into something resembling the skeleton for a canopy bed. Building IKEA furniture would have been easier. As it was, Cindy held piping while Wilson used the wrenches and hex drivers.

"That was a pain in the ass. How often do you put these things together?" Wilson stared at his handiwork.

"As little as possible. I try to pawn it off on unsuspecting lower grade techs."

"I can understand why. What should we do next?"

"Potty break."

"Oh, okay. I assume you know where the bathroom is."

"Not me, him." Cindy pointed to House.

"How do you propose we do it?"

"Not we, you."

"Great." Wilson nudged House awake. "Let's go."

Greg was a little more coherent than before. "Huh?"

"Bathroom break. Then a trip back to la la land." Wilson wasn't sure how to get Greg to his feet. "How do you want to do this?"

"I was thinking you could start by getting my legs over the side of the bed."

While the two of them struggled, Cindy readied the bed. She put a spare sheet over the foam wedge and positioned it on the bed once the boys were out of the way. Then she measured two lengths of rope that would serve as the main pulley lines. The rest she'd have to work with Greg in the bed. But first, she and Wilson had to move the bed away from the wall to make room for one the sand bags to hang.

"You might as well take his pants off while you have him up," she called out. "Leave his jockeys on."

"Are you almost ready for us?"

"We just need to pull the bed forward a bit."

Wilson eased House into the bedside chair. Together he and Cindy moved the bed, then got Greg situated.

It was late before anybody thought about eating. Wilson took charge and ordered a pizza. By the time it arrived House was dead to the world. Cindy wanted nothing more than to get home and drop into her own bed.

"He can be a handful," Wilson said sheepishly; an attempt at apologizing for taking up her time.

"You'd be too, if you were in his position. It's not easy being a slave to pain." Cindy grabbed a slice out of the box and took a seat.

Wilson now understood why House was smitten with her. She had some of the same philosophies.

"I can stop in and check on him before I go off to work in the morning." She waited for the so-called friend to offer his assistance.

"I'll see if one of his Fellows can drop by around lunchtime."

"Fair enough. If you could, have that person call me with any questions or concerns."

"I'll have them call his doctor," James interjected.

Cindy sat back, choosing to ignore the territorial pissing contest Dr. Wilson tried to initiate.

Greg was still sleeping when Wilson left. He checked in on his friend before heading out. No sense in disturbing the slumbering bear. As he gathered his things, Cindy was in the kitchen. He wondered how much longer she intended on staying.

"I'm just going to leave him a few slices on his bedside table in case he wakes up hungry," she explained as she fought with the plastic wrap.

"Good idea."

"And something to drink. Although I'm not sure what's appropriate."

"Knowing House, he'd want a bear."

"I saw some Coke in the fridge. Probably a better choice."

"Yeah," Wilson conceded. He headed for the door but stopped before exiting. "You'll call if there are any problems?"

"Only if he wants me to," she said lightly.

James nodded and left without so much as a good-bye.

"Asshole," Cindy muttered in frustration. Why was everything with James Wilson a challenge of wits? No wonder Greg didn't want him around much.

She brought dinner into the bedroom and placed it on the nightstand along with a little note. It was hard to leave him alone, yet she had to get some sleep before she fell down out of sheer exhaustion.

It was shortly after one in the morning when Greg woke up to a series of muscle movements. His lower leg began protesting against immobility sending his spinal cord the signals to move it in a direction it couldn't go. His right gluteus minimum beat a tattoo against his skin. And his stomach growled. Bleary-eyed, he stared up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the scaffolding overhead. Waking up never came easy to Greg.

His stomach grumbled again. He looked over to the clock to check the time. He reached out for the note propped up against it.

"She's an angel." He smiled, maneuvering the plate to his stomach. With one mouthful of Italian-American bliss, his senses helped to wake up the rest of his body. That's when the mattress registered movement.

Cindy shifted position without waking. Greg watched her for a few moments. He grabbed the note and read it again. She specifically stated that she was going home to bed and he should call her if he needed anything. He ate a slice thinking she had simply changed her mind.

Greg couldn't resist peaking under the covers to see what she was wearing. He was surprised to find her in pajamas. She wasn't planning on sleeping over, so why would she bring her jammies?

He grabbed the can of Coke and popped the top. It felt good to chug half of it at once. The belch that followed was long and deep. Cindy stirred again. House looked over to her. She was staring at him.

"Excuse me."

"You okay?" She nestled herself deeper in the blanket.

"Thanks for dinner."

"I couldn't sleep at my place."

"So you decided to hop into bed with me?"

"I was worried about you." She rolled over, giving him her back.

"I'm good . . .now that you're here with me."

He watched her breathing evenly, asleep in his bed as if it was the most natural thing for both of them. He wished he could spoon her. His body ached for her touch. Greg would have to settle for waking up with her in his bed.