Chrysalis Part VIII to the end    The House Fan Fiction Archive     Home

 Quicksearch
 Search Engine
 Random Story

 Upload Story

      	

  Chrysalis Part VIII to the end 
 by gorblimey2	

 *** 

After the presentation, all hell broke lose and we couldn't get out of the
hall without a police escort. We were taken back to our hotel room where
we willingly decided to stay in for the night. Both of our flights were in
the morning. We went up to our room and turned on the tv to watch a movie.
While Greg was surfing through the channels he landed on CNN and there
were huge headlines and Wolf Blitzer showing over and over our photos and
my introduction of Greg at the presentation. "JUST IN - controversial
neurosurgeon and researcher, Jordan Palmer weds her patient, Gregory
House, M.D."

The phone rang and Greg answered. "I was wondering when you would call.
(Pause) If that's the way they want it, fine, I'll go home with Jordan.
Why should I?" There was a long pause while he listened. He sighed and
said, "I'll be there." He handed the phone to me, "Cuddy wants to talk to
you."

"Hello Lisa."

"Congratulations, I guess. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. I just got
a call from the AMA. They've just heard from the U.S. government that
you've been offered a job in China. A very lucrative job in China. The
President and the Surgeon General are going to go on record tonight that
the President is going to pardon you for any felonies that you may have
committed so that you can come home and lead the USA into the new frontier
of creating new ligaments and artificial nerve fiber. They finally
realized that you are a part owner on each of the patents that you used
and that if you go to China, you can take the research with you. Stupid
idiots. They should have thought of this before. The President is
recommending to the AMA that they reconsider the eight year suspension."

Lisa and I talked a few more minutes and then hung up.

"What did Cuddy say to you?" I asked House.

"You go first."

I nodded no and said, "I asked you first."

"The Board of Directors wants to suspend me two weeks without pay for
disobeying their wishes and contacting you. I told Lisa fine, I would go
with you to Mexico. She said that it was likely that you would be coming
back to the USA and she wanted me back in Princeton to finish my
interviews for the next Fellow. Okay, so what did she tell you?"

"She said the president the United States is pardoning me and he's going
to ask the AMA to reconsider their suspension."

Gregg sat up on his elbows and smiled, "You're coming back to Princeton?"

"It looks like it."

Later that evening, the phone rang and Greg answered, "Hello?"

"Is this Dr. Gregory House?"

"Yes?"

"Stay on the line please for the President of the United States."

"Dr. House? This is the President of the United States. Congratulations on
your marriage. Is Dr. Palmer there?"

House turned over, looked at Jordan and said, "Do you want to take this
call?"

"Who is it from?" I said as I started yawning.

He answered without bothering to cover the receiver, "He's says the
President of the United States, is he another one of your boyfriends?"

I sat up straight and grabbed the phone from him, "Mr. President? This is
Dr. Palmer."

The President was chuckling, "Dr. Palmer let me start off by saying
congratulations on your marriage. I also want to let you know that I just
signed a pardon for you. We consider it in the best interest of the United
States that you come home to conduct your research. Your country needs
leaders like you. Can we entice you to come back home?"

"What about my license to practice medicine?"

"We've talked it over with the AMA and they've agreed to suspend your
license for six months and you will have to take a course on medical
ethics."

I looked over at Gregg and smiled widely. "Well sir, in that case I'd be
glad to come home. I think my husband would like to have me back in
Princeton too."

"That's great. The arrangements have all been made. We'll have someone
provide you with all the details. And thank you doctor, you're a great
asset to this country. Goodbye Doctor Palmer."

"Goodbye sir." I turned to Greg, "Ooooo, all that power in one phone call,
come on baby, drop your drawers, I need to feel some of YOUR power." 

"Ok, baby...I'll give you the big guns."

 ***

Jordan flew back to Mexico, House to Princeton. House went into PPTH and
met with Cuddy the next day.

"You'll finish the interviews today and you're suspended as of tomorrow."
She looked at him and saw that he had a Cheshire grin, "I don't think so.
First, did you ever think how ludicrous it is to suspend me without pay?
My wife is rich...it's like you're giving me a two week vacation. Second,
my wife doesn't want me suspended and since the President of the United
States is personally bringing her home, she could go anywhere in the USA
to do her work after her contract is up here. All she has to do is demand
I go with her and we could be practicing in San Diego or Honolulu."

"You'd use Jordan to bribe your way out of a suspension?" She looked at
him like he had just sunk deep into the mud of life.

He looked at her, gave her a look of innocense, "Well, now that you put it
like that...YES. I'd be an idiot if I didn't use it to my advantage. So,
I'll finish the interviews and you talk to the Board." He raised his
eyebrows as if he expected an answer to a question.

She realized that he had her by the gonads, "Ok, I'll make some calls."
She paused and shook her head, "You know House, you're the reason God made
a middle finger, now get out of here."

"Oooo...don't get testy!" He turned and smiled, he just married a free
ride.

 ***

One month later Jordan arrived in Princeton with her things and moved in
with House. There wasn't much for her to move in but still she found it
hard to find room. But Jordan had never really cared much about
decorations or possessions. She had spent too much time at home when she
was a kid. She wanted to be anywhere but cooped up in a house or
apartment.

She did spend her evenings going through his things. At first he would
grab his stuff out of her hands, "Why are you going through my stuff?"

She looked up, wiggled her ring finger and said, "Because I can." Gave him
a smile and grabbed it back.

House thought that not even Stacy had been so curious or intrusive, but
Jordi couldn't be stopped. No letter, no photo, no paper, no book, no
piece of music was too innocuous for Jordi to scrutinize. She slowed down
when she found the box buried in the back of the hall closet.

He came home and discovered that she was still in her pajamas and hadn't
even bothered to go to the lab at the Universtity. Jordan couldn't
practice medicine for six months but she could still continue her
research, which was the bulk of her day anyway. 

House looked around and shook his head, she was going through the Stacy
box. He looked down at her and she had been crying. "Jesus Christ. Now
what?"

She held up some of the cards they had exchanged. Many of them were soppy,
some of them were the ones he had sent to Stacey but she had left them
behind when she moved out. The photos in the box also told the story of a
couple very much in love.

She sniffed and her lip quivered, "You've never said these things to me.
You love her more than you love me."

"Jordi, you're proof that God has a sense of humor...stop this hormonal
drivel. Yes, I loved Stacey, we had four good years, six months of so-so
and six months of hell. But that's in the past." He sat down on the sofa
and picked up one of the cards. He read it and realized why she was so
upset. The cards were pretty explicit and sometimes downright corny. "Come
here."

"No...I want to wallow in my drivel. Leave me alone."

He got up and went into the kitchen to get a beer, dinner wasn't even
made. He took the pizza menu and ordered one. He went back in, picked up
the remote and watched her continue to go through everything in the box.
Occasionally she would stop and ask him, "What's this?"

"A program from our first concert together."

"This?"

"A ribbon she wore in her hair when we went to Hawaii." She didn't bother
asking again, she just held up a piece of gum. "My six month anniversary
gift. I gave her a gift, but she forgot to get me one so she pulled that
out of her purse and told me it was gum, so it would keep us together."

She threw everything back into the box and plopped down in the arm chair.
He watched the tears just flow and flow and flow. He sighed and shook his
head. "I take it you haven't gotten to the box behind this one have you?"

He got up and opened the closet and started picking his way to the back.
He retrieved a brown cardboard box and brought it out to the living room.
He opened it, pulled out the little program from the Hopkins Spring Fling,
held it up, "First date." He pulled out a wishbone, "Wishbone from our
first Thanksgiving dinner together." He showed her an invoice from the
hotel in New York, "New York...22nd birthday." He pulled out a pair of
cotton panties, "Self-explanatory." He handed her the box and said, "You
should have seen Stacey when she found this. She cried like you're crying.
I told her that we had never been in love, that we were just really good
roommates. She told me only a man in love saves crap like that."

She put the box down and went over and crawled in his lap, still crying.
"Why are you still crying?"

"Because you kept me all these years. You didn't throw me out, you kept
me. Thanks." 

He looked in her little face and kissed her. He held her close to him
until the pizza arrived. When the doorbell rang he said, "Food. This is
all very nice, but get up, I'm starved."

They ate pizza and watched television. The next morning Jordan handed him
the Stacey box. "Just keep the Stacey box at work or somewhere else, ok?"
He chuckled and nodded.

At the hospital, House looked at the box, grabbed a couple of photos out
of it and threw the rest in the trash. Stacey had Mark, he had Jordi. He
didn't need the past. It was funny how the two women in his life marked
both the beginning of his darkness and the end of it.

At noon House drove down to Hallmark and bought every soppy card he could
find for every occasion. He started filling them out... Each day for three
months Jordan received a card. The first was a birthday card. Jordi's
birthday was in July and it was the first week in November. "Happy
Birthday Jordi, I'm in Boston, I'd love it if you would forget Hopkins,
pack your stuff and come back to me. It's lonely without you. I'll always
love you." Greg, 1993. The next was a Christmas card, "I remember how sick
you were and how pathetic you looked in the bedroom with your paper
Christmas Tree, I hope you have a tree now and always...Merry Christmas My
Love, Greg 1993." The next card wasn't really a Valentine's Day card but
it had a couple on the outside and inside it said, "You Mean the World to
Me." He wrote, "Happy Valentine's Day Jordi, I see couples and flowers and
hearts and think of you...always you. Greg,1994." This went on until he
had covered every holiday up until 2007. 

Jordi looked forward to coming home every day and receiving a card from
him. It worked out well for House too because Jordi served him all of his
favorite dinners and he had sex at the mere mention of the word. 

Jordi and Greg had Thanksgiving at their apartment. They invited Chase and
Cuddy along with two research doctors from Germany that worked in Jordan's
lab. Jordi made the turkey and Chase bought the Honeybaked Ham and brought
it to dinner. Everyone had a great time and at the end of the dinner Jordi
saw House grab the wishbone. "Come on, pull...long end gets the wish,
short end gets married first." She looked at him like he was nuts because
logically they had been married at the same time. House let her get the
bigger end and she wished that Greg's leg would continue it's improvement.
She should have wished for something else. 

It was Chase who finally said something, "Jordan, we've all been wondering
if you're pregnant."

Jordan frequently forgot she was pregnant, she was so involved with
getting a protocol approved for the synthetic nerve. She looked down and
then up at House. They exchanged a smile. "Yes, I'm four months pregnant."

It was Cuddy who did the math, "Wait, you two weren't together in August,
your math must be wrong."

House looked at Cuddy and said, "My wife knows how to use a turkey baster
better than you...maybe she can give you tips."

"You mean the baby was artificially inseminated?"

"Yes, it's an artificial baby with a Dad who has artificial nerves and a
mother who is just artificial..."

"It's your baby though?" Chase asked House.

Jordan sighed, "I had five blastocytes left from the stem cell line I
created from his sperm and my eggs. I implanted one."

"Without my permission I might add." House gave her a phoney look of
disdain.

Christmas shopping was fun for Jordan this year because she had Greg to
shop for. On the Friday before Christmas, Jordan took the day off to shop
and was returning from the outlet stores (she was still looking for a
bargain despite having millions of dollars in investments.) She was taking
Quaker Road north when a deer ran across the road. She swerved to keep
from hitting it and hit a patch of black ice. She had no control. The car
literally flew off the road and into the large maple tree which stood
guard at the side of the road. House's car was an old model, large but not
equipped with airbags. She was wearing her shoulder belt but when Jordan
hit the tree she flew up and into the steering wheel with her head
whipping forward at 50 mph, striking the windshield and shattering it.

The front of the car had collapsed like an accordion and the engine had
been pushed back into the back of the dashboard, causing the dashboard to
smash back into Jordan, pinning her. It didn't take long for an ambulance
because twenty cell phones dialed 911. It took them two hours to extricate
her from the pile of metal that once was a car.

It was one of the lab techs who had gone home to get his spare set of keys
because he'd locked his in his car, when he passed by and recognized the
car and Dr. Palmer inside the crumpled car. He immediately dialed the Lab
and told Dr. Franz who called Foreman.

"Does House know that Jordan has been in an accident on Quaker Road? My
lab tech says that they haven't gotten her out of the car yet and they've
been working on it for an hour and half."

"I don't know, I'll go talk to him."

Foreman went running downstairs. He saw House at the white board writing
symptoms. He burst in, "House, Jordan's been in car accident, a bad one on
Quaker's Road. They haven't been able to get her out of the car for an
hour and a half."

House stopped what he was doing, looked down at the floor. Pulled his
phone out of his pocket and dialed Jordan. It kept ringing. Finally a man
answered, "Kent Whistler."

House swallowed hard, "I'm Dr. Gregory House, the woman trapped in the car
is my wife, what are her vitals?"

"Dr. House, we haven't been able to get them yet, she unconscious, lost
some blood but we've controlled the external bleeding, her head hit the
windshield even though she had her shoulder belt on...she's got several
cuts but mainly her injuries are internal. Her pulse is weak and thready,
we have her on saline...sorry that there isn't more to tell you. We're
going to take her to Princeton General as soon as we get her out."

"No, bring her to Princeton Plainsboro, it's only two more minutes away.
Can you give this phone to the paramedics and ask them to push the redial
and call me when she's on her way?"

"Yes, I will." He hung up the phone.

House put the phone in his pocket and nodded thanks to Foreman. He looked
at Chase and Cameron and said, "Ok, we have cough, rectal bleeding..."

Foreman couldn't believe it, "HOUSE, aren't you going to go over there? Be
with her?"

House looked at him with the expression of a little kid, "Do you think
they'll let me use the Jaws of Life if I do?" He rolled his eyes, "She's
unconscious, weak pulse, and trapped. What can I do if I get there? Should
I just abandon this 16 year old kid who has multiple organ failure and run
off to an accident scene so that some cop can hold me back and keep me out
of the way?" House turned back to the Fellows, "Come on people, what does
this tell us?"

Foreman was pissed, "You could be there if she dies."

That was it. House lunged at Foreman and pinned him up against the glass
wall, looked him straight in the eye and said, "She's not going to die."

Foreman realized that this was House's way of handling bad news, just keep
on working. "Hey man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

House looked at him and realized what he had done, he took his hands off
of Foreman, turned around and walked back to the white board. Half-hour
later House received a call on his cell phone. Jordan was free from the
car and on her way to Princeton Plainsboro.

House left the office and made his way to the emergency room. The trip to
the emergency room seemed to take forever. He hadn't realized how grim it
was down in emergency. He waited by the emergency doors for the ambulance
and was surprised to see Wilson walking towards him.

"I just heard. Do you know what her injuries are?"

"No, I just know that she was unconscious at the scene, thready pulse,
some bleeding and definite internal injuries."

"What about the baby?"

"I don't know." House looked up and saw the ambulance making its final
approach to the parking lot he stepped back so that they could swing the
doors open to get the gurney through.

In her out of the back of the ambulance and House strained to take a look
at her. She was draped in a bloody sheet, had a saline drip and her face
was bruised and cut. As she was wheeled past him he ran and grabbed her
arm. He ran down the corridor and into the emergency room with his hand
still on her arm. As the emergency doctors crowded around her, he looked
down at her little body and touched her cheek.

"Dr. House you're going to have to leave, we need all the room we can get.
We'll let you know how bad it is in a few minutes." The doctor looked up
at Wilson and nodded towards the door. Wilson came over to House grabbed
his arm and started to pull him towards the waiting room.

House left with him, "Crap. Jesus Christ, I can't believe this. What was
she doing driving when it's so icy? She's such a moron sometimes. I told
her that she if would wait until tomorrow I'd go with her to do the
driving. I always worry about this happening. Every time she goes out the
door after it's snowed or there's sleet I think about this happening. She
can be such an idiot." House couldn't believe how helpless and out of
control he felt. It reminded him of being a child and unable to control
what went on around him or to him.

Two police officers wandered into the emergency waiting room and asked if
anyone there was related to the woman who had been in the auto accident.
House stood up and the police walked over to him.

"I'm Officer Jensen and this is Officer Mattison, are you related to the
lady in the car?"

"Yes I'm her husband, Gregory House."

"We were the first officers on the scene after your wife's car crash. I
have her purse here for you and we have some packages that were pulled out
of the trunk of the car before it was hauled off. They're in our car,
we'll go back out and get them in a minute. You need to give us your
wife's name?"

"Moron didn't you just get it from her drivers license like any
intelligent person would?"

"House!" Wilson reprimanded House.

"Sorry. Her name is Jordan Rachel Palmer M.D., Ph.D. How did this happen?"

"They say she swerved to miss a deer, hit ice and slammed into a tree."

"Holy Mother of God, was anyone else hurt?"

"No sir. We just wanted to return the purse and packages to you. We'll go
out and get them. We're very sorry sir, we hope she's all right."

"Thank you."

The police came back with several shopping bags and placed them at House's
feet and then left. House waited another five minutes and then jumped up
and ran back to the emergency room. Wilson ran after him with the bags.
House arrived just as Jordi was just being wheeled to the elevator to go
to surgery.

"Wait, where are you going with her?"

One of the three emergency room doctors came over to him, "She's got
internal bleeding, we've got to get her up into surgery. She's lost her
spleen and we know she cracked and broke several ribs and one punctured
her left lung, she has a broken femur and we're going to need a MRI to see
why she's still unconscious. But right now we need to get inside and find
out where the bleeding is coming from. She's in bad shape House."

"The baby?"

He just shook his head "no."

House had chills going down his spine, she was going to feel hopeless.
Surprisingly, he felt overwhelmed by the death of the baby. This was all
too much. House looked up and saw Cuddy running towards him followed by
Cameron, Chase and Foreman. "Great,' he said, "A cluster fuck."

Cuddy didn't bother asking House because she wanted a straight answer. She
looked at Wilson,"Well?"

"She's in surgery, internal bleeding, still unconscious, some broken
bones, broken ribs, punctured lung and she lost her spleen. The baby is
gone."

"House, I'm sorry. I'll go up to surgery and see what I can do, if
anything."

Everyone looked appropriately sad and depressed. House turn to Cameron,
"What's going on with the patient?"

"The treatment's working so far."

House shook his head yes and then headed towards the elevator. Wilson went
with him. House turned to Wilson, "Are you my shadow?"

"I am today. You know she's my friend too."

"Yeah. Let's go to the observation room."

"Are you sure you want to watch this?"

House gave Wilson a sly smile, "With me standing over them, do you think
they'll do it wrong?"

Wilson smiled back. They went up to the observation deck, sat down and
watched as Jordan continued to bleed and the surgeon frantically looked
for the bleeder.

"Damn, I can't find it. Hook up another unit of blood, we're going to be
here for awhile." And took another hour for him to find and sew the
bleeder and to evacuate the blood which was continuing to collapse the
left lung.

House had no complaints, the surgeon was doing his best. When it came time
to sober up, Cuddy sent him the best plastic surgeon in the hospital. He
took quite a long time to sew up with tiny micro stitches that would help
minimize her scar.

When they were wheeling her into recovery, House ran down the stairs and
walked along side the gurney. As soon as they left her, House walked over
and looked down at the bruised and cut face, the bandages, the tubes going
everywhere, the oxygen mask and closed his eyes. He couldn't do anything
for her. He grabbed her hand, kissed it and said, "Jordi, I'll be back
later, you hang in there, ok honey?"

He went out and met with the surgeon who said, "She should be ok if she
doesn't pick up an infection. I don't know if there's been any brain
injury until we get the MRI, but that will be worked up by Foreman. House
went back to his office and a few minutes later Foreman called him.

"House, we're taking her back into surgery. She has an epidural hematoma,
her brain is swelling, we're going to go in and relieve some of the
pressure and remove the blood clot."

They talked about her stats and the operation and when he hung up House
realized that he wanted a drink, badly. Instead he gave Wilson a call,
told him what was going on and they both went up to ICU. She was having
her hair shaved off so that they could perform the crainiotomy. House
looked at the reddish blonde hair laying on the floor and shook his head.
He could see that one pupil was dialted and the other was static. This was
a nightmare. He kept thinking, this is what you get for loving someone so
much.

Foreman was keenly aware that the woman under the knife was not only his
mentor but the wife of the biggest asshole in town. If he slipped up here
his life would be hell. But it turned out that House was proud of the work
Foreman did. He was also grateful to have the company in the observation
room. Wilson, Cuddy, Cameron, Chase and two of the University lab doctors
were present in the room. All of them looking extremely worried.

After it was over, Foreman came to House and told him that it looked like
they got it and the brain was releasing the pressure that had built up. By
the time House got to the ICU Jordan was hooked up again and looking
incredibly helpless in the hospital bed. He grabbed the chart from Foreman
and read through it. Once again, there was nothing he could do, everything
that could be done for her had been done. Now it was just a matter of
time. 

"Permanent Brain injury?" House asked Foreman.

"We don't yet. She took a pretty big hit. Why didn't you buy her a car
with air bags instead of driving that big heap around?" House said
nothing, he just kept looking through her chart. Foreman rolled his eyes
and went to get cleaned up.

It was a light night in the ICU, it always was closer to Christmas because
most surgeries and procedures were postponed until after the holidays.
House called Cuddy up to the ICU.

"All right House, what do you want?"

"I want a bed. I want a bed next to hers." He pointed to the spot next to
Jordan.

Cuddy shrugged her shoulders and said, "OK, we'll bring one in for you.
What else?"

"That's it for now."

Cuddy went over and looked through her chart. "When are they going to do
the abortion to recover the fetus?"

"I don't know. Right now they just want to see if she's going to respond
to the crainiotomy."

"God, House, I'm so sorry. I really am. I like Jordan a lot, she's been
good for you and for this hospital. I'll be back up before I go home
tonight." Lisa went over to the nurse and pointed to the spot next to
Jordan. Within fifteen minutes a bed for House had been delivered and set
up. He went down to the cafeteria and ate with Wilson and then went to his
office, grabbed a couple of journals and went back up to ICU. He laid down
to read and fell asleep within a few minutes. Around midnight he woke up,
got up, took a leak and went over to check on her. He took out a light
scope and was visibly relieved to see that her pupils were reacting
normally. 

He bent down and kissed her forehead, "You look like Sinead O'Connor after
a run in with an angry Jesuit. They shaved your head so Foreman could do
brain surgery. He got in there and found out you don't have a brain, just
a computer chip. It's being replaced but they had to order a new
one...your model has been discontinued. I'm thinking that this new bald
look could get you a few sympathy votes and we could run you for mayor. Of
course, right now with the nice abstract pattern of cuts on your face, you
might scare away more votes than you would attract. You also have a nice
long scar from you breastbone down to your navel, kind of looks like one
of those frogs you dissect in biology. "

He finally stopped, looked down and realized that everything he thought
was important in his world was a joke. He was looking at what was
important. But because it was so important he couldn't stand the thought
of losing it. He was trying not to cry. One of the night nurses at the
desk looked up and gave him a look of sympathy. He drew the curtain and
sat down. 

"Jordi, please I'm not good at this bedside vigil thing. Please come out
of the coma and back to me."

He saw her pulse elevate slightly and he smiled. He grabbed her hand and
kissed her little fingers again and then the palm of her hand. It was
about the only thing that wasn't covered in cuts or tubes. He was putting
her hand down when he felt it move. "Jordi, do that again."

The movement was small but noticeable. She tried to close her hand around
his. He started laughing. Tears were coming down his face and he kissed
her hand again. Foreman opened the curtain. He hadn't gone home because he
wanted to monitor Jordan. He saw the tears in House's eyes and didn't know
what to say or do. He put his hand on House's shoulder and House gave him
a look that said he should remove the hand right away. 

House wiped his eyes and then said, "She moved her hand in response to my
direction. Twice."

Foreman's eyes grew big and he smiled. He looked at her pupils and then
said, "Jordan you've had a epidural hematoma, we did a crainiotomy..."

House interruped, "...you don't have to tell her, I told her all you found
was a old model computer chip and we're waiting to replace it."

Foreman looked at House like he was crazy, "What?"

"Nothing. This is a good sign, right?"

"An excellent sign, but I'd like to see it." He took Jordan's hand in his.
"Jordan, squeeze my hand."

There was no response. House frowned at him, "You don't have the touch.
Here." He grabbed Jordan's hand away from him, "Jordi, squeeze my hand if
you'd like to have sex in your hospital bed before you're released." The
little fingers curled and Foreman started laughing. 

"Ok, that's a good sign. But no sex for you for a few weeks...you don't
want to elevate your blood pressure."

"Don't worry Jordi, what does the big bad black wolf know anyway? He never
was much fun." 

A few minutes later, House went back to the bed and fell back to sleep.
Around four in the morning he got up, went over and grabbed her hand
again. "Are you going to open your eyes or keep me in suspense?" He
laughed when he saw two little slits open. He kissed her hand and said,
"That's a good girl." She squeezed a little harder.

By the end of the day she was able to open her eyes and track House as he
juggled in front of her. "Are you watching? This is where it gets good, I
add a fourth ball. Aghh." The balls went all over the bed and floor. He
chased them down. 

During visitors hours she was only suppose to have one at a time but of
course an entire gaggle of doctors invaded the ICU. The nurse tried to
shoo them away but it was no use. They didn't listen to nurses. 

House was laying down on top of his bed while everyone else was standing
or sitting in chairs. Cuddy sat down on the edge of his bed, "The press is
a nightmare. They want updates every half hour...I told them I'd give it
to them every two hours. Should we take a photo and share it with them so
that they know she's alive?"

House turned to Jordan who had her eyes open, "Honey, are you ready for
your closeup?"

There was a slight smile that crossed Jordan's lips and everyone laughed
and expressed relief. Foreman was very happy with her progress. By the
second day Jordan was trying to talk but had a hard time thinking of
words. Her voice came out in a whisper. House bent down and watched her
lips says, "Baby."

He grabbed her hand and looked in her eyes. "The baby didn't make it."

He heard a muffled, primal moan come from somewhere inside of her body and
her eyes teared up. House touched her forehead and held her hand up to his
lips. "I know, I know. But we'll figure that all out when you're better.
Right now you need to concentrate on getting healthy. Please Jordi, just
think about getting better." But the tears poured down her cheek and onto
the bandages for several minutes and her chest heaved painfully up and
down. Her blood pressure went up and her pulse elevated. 

The nurses came over and looked at the beeping monitor. They looked at the
tears coming down her face and asked, "What happened?" 

"I told her about the baby."

They nodded their heads and one said, "Oh. Dr. Palmer, you need to
concentrate on bringing your blood pressure down or we'll have to give you
some more drugs. We'd like to keep you as drug free so that they don't
mask any additional problems that may come up. So let's start breathing
slowly and as deeply as you can."

House shooed the two nurses away and turned back to her, "Jordi, look at
me." She wouldn't look at him, "Look at me." She finally focused on him.
"I wanted the baby too because I knew it was going be a part of you. But
it's not going to happen. We're going to have to try again later. Next
time maybe we can do it the old fashion way...boy on top. I know you
prefer a turkey baster, but I'm thinking it might be fun putting our
private parts together. Come on...please breath and think about something
else."

She started to breath slowly and deeply, her blood pressure started to
come down and he kissed her hand again. "That's good." He held her hand
until she went back to sleep and then he went to the cafeteria. 

Wilson stopped by with a backpack full of his clothes and said, "You two
need a bigger place. Poor Jordan has to hang her clothes in the front
closet? The press is outside of your apartment and the hospital. You
really need to give a statement. Do you want me to go out and give one?"

"Have Foreman do it...he's her doctor. I'm taking a shower." When Wilson
and House got back up to ICU Chase, Foreman and two nurses were running
around Jordan's bed.

House ran to the bed just in time to see Jordan having a seizure. "What
happened? When I left she was fine."

Chase turned to him and with a worried look, "She has a fever, 103 F,
probably an infection. She started having a seizure in response to it."

House watched Chase and the others hang a bottle of Vancomycin and get a
blood sample to send to the lab. Jordan stopped seizing and Foreman gave
House a look of relief. Foreman nodded affirmatively to House and he
nodded back.

Her infection lasted several days and House worried about her getting
sepsis but the Vancomycin seemed to do the trick. After five days, House
went home and collapsed. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself
a drink but then realized he needed to stay sober if they needed him back
at the hospital.

After ten days they moved her to a private room and it was like Grand
Central Station. In fact, strangers were stepping into her room and
snapping photos with their cell phones. The hospital started requiring all
cell phones be left at the nurses station. 

The day after she was moved to the private room the obstetrician did the
abortion. House was with her and, even though they put her under for the
procedure, he held her hand all the way through. 

"House, would you like to see your daughter? She looks like she was well
formed for 21 weeks."

House stood up and went over to the table where the baby had been placed
in a large stainless steel bowl lined with a flat crib sheet. She was
perfectly formed. Ten tiny toes and fingers. The sweetest little ears, and
tiny little eyelashes from her closed eyes. She looked slightly gray. It
was so strange to be staring at the end of so many hopes and plans. There
would be no nanny like they decided, no pre-school, no college fund. Just
a funeral. He didn't know why he did it, but he reached down and stroked
her little face and hand. He felt nauseated and his heart started
pounding. He thought for a minute it was a heart attack but then realized
it was just a panic attack. He started to breath through the attack. House
looked over at the obstetrician and nodded. She in turn nodded to the
nurse who covered the baby and took her away.

"I'm afraid she's old enough that she has to have a proper cremation or
burial. What have you decided?"

House could barely answer, "Cremation."

"Would you like to give her a name?"

"Blythe Floie Palmer-House."

"Well, that's a mouth full!" The obstetrician laughed as she took off her
gloves. She was surprised as to how sober House was. He wasn't making any
flippant remarks or calling anyone names. He was obviously very sad. She
felt sorry for him, he was going through a lot and even though he was a
jerk, he didn't deserve this. She patted House on the back and left the
room. 

House was sick of being sad. He wanted this year to be over and it had
just started. He looked at the operating table and wished Jordi was
healthy again so that he could finally have a drink and get shit-faced. He
needed it.

His Mom was going to fly out to help take care of Jordan when she came
home. He had rented a roll-away bed for her to sleep on in the living
room. Wilson was right, he needed a bigger place.

A week later, Jordan was given the ok to go home. She had a cast on her
leg, bandages to support her broken and cracked ribs and her head was
still wrapped in bandages giving her a modified Mummy look.

House started out the door and the press converged on them. Jordan waved
to the cameras as House scowled. House wheeled her out to the brand new
Escape Hybrid, the car she had wanted to get several months ago. He loaded
her up, she put on her seat belt and they took off.

"You ok?" He asked.

"I was going to ask you the same thing. I know you've been through a lot."
She paused and asked, "Did you see her before she was cremated?"

"Is it really important?" the last thing he wanted to remember was looking
at his dead daughter.

"Yes, it is to me. I want to know that one of her parents acknowledged her
before she was..."

He saw she was headed for a melt down and wanted to cut it off at the
pass, "...yes, yes, yes, I saw her. She was perfect, down to her little
eyelashes. She was beautiful."

Jordan was crying and nodding her head yes, she could barely whisper,
"Thank you...thank you."

"For God's sake Jordi, don't thank me, she was my daughter too." Jordan
looked at him and smiled, glad that he felt that way.

Living with his mother was difficult. She wanted to take care of him too.
"Mom, I'm almost 49, cut it out. Just concentrate on Jordi."

"You know, she's pretty upset over the baby."

"Duh...the baby had a 25% chance of survival at her age. We lost our
daughter."

"I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that the physical
stuff will be easy for her, but I'm not sure that she's dealing well with
the loss of the baby. I think she needs to see and talk to someone."

House thought about it and realized his mother was probably right. He had
been dealing with his own feelings and exhaustion and hadn't fully thought
about Jordi's mental health. "Ok, I'll arrange for it."

 ****

Thank God for Blythe. I was sinking fast and she saw it. House arranged
for me to see a psychologist, Dr. Hamabata. She was great. She put me on
Zoloft and made me acknowledge the loss. She had me bring in Blythe's
ashes and asked me to talk to my daughter...tell her everything I needed
to tell her before the ashes were spread. It took two hours but Dr.
Hamabata canceled her next appointment and let me stay. I felt like a
weight had been lifted. I was so exhausted from all the crying that I went
home and collapsed.

House was no saint. He soon became frustrated with my incapacitation. He
was sick of everything and after his mom went home, he hated having to get
up and get me things when he was reading or watching television. He
started spending more time at work or at the betting parlor. He would give
me deep sighs if I asked him to bring home some food or get groceries on
his way home. He made me feel like a paracite. 

I started to just not bother him, it just seemed to be easier on us if I
didn't ask for his help. By the summer I was back to work. My scar, the
one down my chest was still noticeable but not by much. My leg healed
nicely and I had a scar on my head that didn't grow much hair. But I had
enough hair that grew in around it that no one really noticed. I decided
to keep my hair shorter...it was so much easier to deal with. 

I was worried that Greg didn't find me attractive anymore because he
wouldn't look at me when I was naked or try to feel me up or any of the
things he usually did. We didn't have sex with me even though I told him I
was feeling ok and thought I could handle it. He wouldn't answer me if I
suggested a tumble, but just kept watching television or reading a book.

I felt more alone than I ever had in my life.

 ***

The only way that people can hurt you is if you love them. I realized that
while looking at Jordi in the hospital bed. I wanted to trade my life for
hers, make sure she was ok. But I realized then that I couldn't keep her
safe. It would always be this way if I cared about her. I would always be
worried about whether she would make it safely home. If she was out late
at night. If she was sick. I know I'm a bastard but I didn't want to care
any more. It hurt to care.

Seeing my little daughter in a stainless steel bowl, gray and dead as a
doornail was the turning point. I just couldn't take this. I didn't want
this overwhelming feeling of being helpless and out of control. I had let
myself love and see what it got me?

And she needed me. She needed me to get her a pen, a glass of water, cook
dinner, hand her the clicker. It was too much. I'm too selfish...it was
easier to ignore her. She would eventually do it herself. So what if it
took her thirty minutes to get out to the kitchen and get a glass of
water.

God I was tired. I was tired of hospitals, pain, stitches, broken bones,
dead babies, convalescing spouses...I was just sick and tired of it all. I
began to ignore it all and her. I didn't go with her and my Mom when they
spread the ashes on Lake Carnegie. What a waste of time. She was
dead...put the ashes in the trash and let's get on with life.

Yeah, I might have been drinking too much but it made it easier to ignore
her and her needs. I had to laugh when she suggested that we make love. I
had about as much desire to make love to her as I did to Wilson...and
that's a big NONE. I guess I sealed it the night she made her move.

"Greg, I think I'm up for a little horizontal tango. The doctor said it
was ok." She reached down and kept stroking me but I just kept thinking of
her on the gurney, all bloody and broken and my daughter laying in a
stainless steel bowl. She became frustrated when I didn't respond.

" Don't you want to make love?"

"Jesus Jordan, look at you. I'd rather make love to Frankenstein's
monster, at least he has fewer scars."

I knew by the look on her face that I had just pulled the carpet out from
under her. I knew what I had done and I didn't care.

 ***

The fact that my husband found me less attractive than Frankenstein's
monster was devastating. I hadn't realized how ugly I looked until he told
me. The next day after he had gone to work I stood in the nude and looked
at the mirror. The scar was hardly noticeable but I guess he could see it.
The one on the head really wasn't noticeable or at least that's what I
thought. It didn't matter, I couldn't arouse Greg no matter what I did. He
refused to look at me when I was naked and he refused to hold me in bed. 

I told my analyst what was going on and she was very worried about Greg.
She wanted me to bring him in for a session.

"Greg, Gerilyn wants you to come in for a session with me. She is
concerned about our marriage. She thinks you may need to talk to someone."

"I don't need some psychologist telling me I'm screwed up, I know it."

"She doesn't want to tell you that you're screwed up, she wants to help
you fix it."

"Do you hear what you're saying? That someone can fix me? Do you know how
ludicrous you sound?" He shook his head in disgust.

"I didn't mean it that way. I just mean that she wants to help us with our
problems."

"Oh, she's going to suddenly make you pretty and attractive again?"

I think I actually took a step back, I was so hurt and devastated. "Greg,
what are you doing? Why are you being so hateful? Did I do something, say
something? If I did, please tell me so I can make it right. I can't take
this ...I love you so much. Do you still love me?"

When I couldn't answer her she grabbed her keys and left. I don't know
where she went and frankly, I didn't care. It was nice to have the
apartment to myself. I finally went to bed and slept soundly for the first
time in months. She didn't come home that night. I'm not sure when she
came home but she was there the next afternoon when I got home.

She had been crying, her eyes looked swollen and she was sitting in the
easy chair. I sat down on the couch.

After a few minutes I finally told her, "Jordan, I'm sorry, I really don't
know why but I don't think this is going to work. I don't feel the same
way that I used to. I want a divorce. I'm sorry." 

 ***

Divorce? Divorce? I hadn't even made it to my first anniversary. "Greg,
please don't do this. I love you so much. Let's work on this. You love me,
I know you do."

He bent over and put his head in his hands, "Jordan, I did love you, I
really did, but I've realized that loving you is too hard. I can't do it.
I look at you and I feel numb, nothing. I don't find you attractive or
desirable. Please, let's end this without a lot of drama. I don't want
anything. If you want something I have, take it. I owe you."

If I wanted something? I wanted him. I wanted what I knew we had. I ran to
my analyst the next day, she saw me on an emergency basis. "Jordan, your
accident and the death of your daughter has done something to him. If he
doesn't feel, he doesn't hurt. Feeling numb is easier for him than feeling
helpless or out of control. Unless he gets help, I'm afraid there's not
much you can do."

I left my session, went to my office and was sitting thinking about
everything when the process server knocked on my door. I looked up, saw
the papers in his hand and looked at him, "Oh, noooo. Oh please don't hand
me those. Please walk away and tell him you couldn't find me."

"I'm sorry lady. I'm just doing my job." He threw the papers on the desk
in front of me and it hit me. He didn't love me anymore and this was his
way of making sure I got the message."

I went home and he was sitting on the sofa drinking. He turned his head
slightly towards the door when I came in but he didn't look at me. I stood
there hoping he would say it was all a mistake but he didn't. I went into
the bedroom and got down my suitcase. As usual, there wasn't much for me
to pack. I never seemed to set down roots anywhere I went. I took what I
needed and decided he could keep the rest. I grabbed a cab and I drove to
the airport and waited. I flew to Merida. 

Since my contract was up several months before, I had been working month
to month at PPTH, I was just about ready to renegotiate my contract but
when this happened I told Cuddy I was leaving but if I came back, I'd come
back to PPTH, I liked the lab and the neurology department. She was sad to
see me go but understood.

I thought about contesting the divorce but my attorney said it was a no
contest state and he'd be given the divorce anyway. I told the attorney
that he could have anything he wanted in New Jersey but I wanted
everything in Merida. Greg's attorney was under the impression that
everything in Merida was my separate property anyway and so he wasn't
giving anything up. Greg signed the papers.

Greg had forgotten that I had four blastocytes in Merida and now they were
mine. A month after the interlocutory decree was awarded, I had one
implanted. I wanted to have a child before I was too old, I didn't care if
I was a single mother or not. 

We had to wait six months after the interlocutory decree was awarded
before we could file the final judgment. The divorce would be final in
December. Greg had asked for nothing of mine and vice versus. I didn't buy
a house. I just rented one from a very nice Mexican doctor. It was a two
bedroom house with a lot of open patios because of the heat down there. It
was gorgeous because it was on the wide boulevard of homes and it felt
more like a European Boulevard than a Mexican neighborhood. 

One day I got home from my lab and found Jim Wilson standing on my
doorstep two days before my wedding anniversary. He brought me a bouquet
of flowers and a bottle of wine. "Thought you might need a friend."

I smiled and let him in. We sat down and he poured me a glass of wine, "No
thanks. I don't want a glass, thanks. I'll get a bottle of water."

"You sure, this is a great wine...one of the best?"

"No, I'm fine."

"You don't want to drink...are you pregnant again?"

"I don't know, but I might be. Greg forgot that I had four blastocytes. I
had one implanted the other day but I don't know if it took.

"Jordan, why would you do that? It's not going to win him back."

"I'm not trying to get him back. I want to have a baby before and so I
need to get started."

Wilson spent the weekend with me and we had a great time seeing the Mayan
ruins. I took him to Chichen Itza, Kahbah and Uxmal. There was no hanky
panky, we just spent the time as good friends. We had a great time. When I
put him on the plane the next week I was sorry to see him go. I should
have stayed with him, I wouldn't be in so much pain.

I renegotiated my contract with PPTH and it was only to supervise the lab
and research, not conduct neurosurgery. It was a six month contract with
an option to renew for another six months. I monitored most of the lab
work from Merida, but I was required to fly and spend a week in Princeton
each month. I usually stayed at the Embassy Suites when I got there. In
late September I flew into Princeton to monitor the lab's current progress
on one of my pet projects. I stayed for the founder's party on Thursday
night being held in the lobby. I wore a halter top that split all the way
down past my belly button. It was a gorgeous Orange-red color. I combined
it with a navy blue chiffon skirt and navy blue shoes. When I arrived,
Greg was at the bar getting a drink. Wilson was at a conference in New
York.

After an hour of mingling, I went upstairs and looked down, watching the
crowd. I was surprised to find that Greg came up the stairs to stand by
me.

"Friends?" He asked.

"No." I was truthful. I didn't have it in me to be his friend.

He shrugged his shoulders, "I'll take co-workers."

"Do I have a choice?"

"You look lovely tonight. I can't even see your scar." He continued to
suck down the glass of whiskey.

I looked at him and couldn't believe he was doing this. "Fuck you. Go find
some sycophant who actually cares what you think." I walked off towards
the women's restroom. I took a pee and when I opened the stall he was
standing there watching me.

"Greg, what do you want?" That's when I realized he was really drunk.
Wilson had mentioned that Cuddy was concerned over House's drinking. He
was leaning on the counter to keep his balance. He didn't say anything, he
just kept staring at me. I washed my hands as he looked my body over with
what seemed to be a look of lustful appreciation. I shook my head and left
the bathroom. He followed. When we got near his office he grabbed me and
pulled me in. I was completely off balance and tried to pull away. He
pushed me in and locked the door behind him. 

"I just want to talk to you Jordi. I want to tell you how sorry I am, how
miserable I am."

I looked around to grab something to use as a weapon when he grabbed me, I
started beating on him. "We're almost divorced, you aren't my husband, you
aren't my lover..you're just an ASS."

He grabbed me, put his hand in my halter top and kissed me. "Let me just
touch you, hold you, be with you tonight." I stepped back and hauled off
and hit him as hard as I could. He went flying but he took me with him. I
broke my heel and fell tumbling forward into him like a football player
tackling the quarterback. He fell onto the floor and I came down on him. I
had taken the breath out of him. He finally caught it and took in a deep
breath. I started to get up and he pulled me back down and smothered me
with a kiss, a rather sloppy, drunk kiss. He was very aroused. He had his
hand in my halter top and with his free one started pulling my skirt up.
He was rubbing against me.

"You're drunk Greg. Get off of me, let me go." I didn't want a drunk Greg
House touching me.

"Jordi, just this once, let me hold you, let me feel you again."

A part of me kept saying...so what? If he gets you pregnant this way or
you're pregnant by insemination...just get pregnant. And then I thought,
no, this is so wrong on so many levels. He sensed my hesitation and
interpreted it as a "yes."

He was confused, but I wasn't so sure it was over me or himself. "Come on
Jordi, don't be angry with me, I just can't handle loving anyone as much
as I love you. It's too painful when things happen that I can't control. I
don't like being unable to control what's happening." I couldn't stand his
breath, it was whisky mixed with cigars.

"Greg, I don't care what you want anymore. You can't control me. Let me up
you jerk."

"I know you care, I know you love me." He pinned me forcibly to the floor
with his body as I twisted violently around, trying to get him off of me.
My head flew up as he was coming in for a kiss and the area around my
eyebrow connected forcibly with his forehead causing a terrible pain
through my eye and head. He fumbled with his zipper and reached between us
to pull up my skirt. His hand searched between my legs and felt for my
panties. He grabbed them and yanked on them. When they didn't budge down
my legs, Greg pulled them with all his might and they finally ripped off.
I was trying to escape but he had taken my wrists and pinned them tightly
over my head with his left hand. With his right hand he started groping
between my legs to open them. I tried to keep them closed but he wedged
his right hip, knee and leg in-between mine. When he found what he wanted,
he wasted no time mounting me. He entered and started thrusting so fast
and hard that I was bouncing back and hitting my head each time on the leg
of his desk. It took him less than a minute to come inside me. When he did
he yelled out and then collapsed on top of me. He rolled off of me and
onto the floor. He zipped himself up, looked at me with confusion on his
face and got up to leave. I could feel some pain as I lay on the floor,
not knowing what I should do.

I was stunned and wrapped in a ball crying when I heard someone enter the
presentation room next door. I could hear Cameron talking to someone, it
was Chase. They were laughing about something as they turned on the light
in the outside office. Then I heard the door open to House's office and
the light came on overhead.

"Oh My God, Jordan? What are you doing down there?" Cameron ran over to me
and then saw the torn panties. She turned to Chase and said, "Call
security."

I looked at her and shook my head no, "No don't call them. I'll be ok."

"Let me look at you. Jordan, you have bruises all over you, let me call
security. Who did this to you?"

"Cameron, let it go...I'll be ok."

Chase said, "You look like you've been sexually assaulted, we need to
report this to the police."

"NO!"

Cameron looked at Chase and then me, "At least let me check you out. If
you don't, I'm calling the police."

I reluctantly nodded yes. I know Cameron and she's forceful when she wants
to be. She told Chase to go back to the party and then took me up to the
third floor. We found an exam room in the Infectious Disease Department
and she looked me over. 

"Jordan you have bruises on your wrists where someone held you, a black
eye and bruising on your thighs. I want to do a pelvic exam."

"It's not necessary. I'm ok."

"I'm calling the cops."

I rolled my eyes and spread my legs, scooted to the end of the table and
she shook her head. "You have some tearing, not much, but some. I see
semen, let get something to take a sample.

"NO! No samples. Just tell me if I'm ok down there, no permanent damage?"

"No permanent damage, you'll be ok."

"Great, then I'm out of here." I put on my skirt and shoes. "Cameron, I
don't want this discussed with anyone, do you understand?"

"No, I don't understand. You need to tell the police, someone raped you
and they need to be prosecuted."

"No, it was just rough sex, I wanted it this way...it just got a little
too rough."

She didn't buy it but she could see that I was protecting someone and she
suspected it was Greg. She hesitated but then asked, "Did House do this to
you?"

"No." I tried to sound convincing.

"Then why were you in his office, on his floor?"

"It was the first place we could think of and it was open." I straightened
up.

She got out a prescription pad, "Let me give you the morning after pill."

"Not necessary, I'm on birth control." I lied. "Thanks Cameron. I
appreciate your concern."

"Jordan, are you sure whoever did this to you won't do it again? To
someone else?"

"I'm sure. Very sure." And since I was sure, I sounded convincing.

I went down the stairwell and rushed out the door to the parking lot. I
took out my phone to call a cab when Chase walked up. "Jordan, let me give
you a ride to your hotel." I thought about it and shook my head yes. Chase
was kind enough to say nothing all the way to the Embassy Suites. I just
wanted to lay down, I had a huge headache from banging my head on his
forehead and the leg of his desk. I took off my dress, put on a gown,
crawled up in bed and cried myself to sleep.

 ***

I knew we had sex but I didn't remember much about it except that I didn't
last long. I couldn't believe that she had talked me into having sex with
her again. I don't understand why I can't just get her out of my head. I
walked into the office with my usual hangover and saw a pair of yellow
cotton panties, torn to shreds. It must have gotten pretty wild. It's a
shame I couldn't remember it, sex with Jordi was always a treat,
especially the wild sex.

I went into the Presentation room. The new Fellow was going to start next
month and so I only had Cameron and Chase to work with but they were both
seasoned so it hadn't been a problem. Cameron was missing.

"Where's Cameron?"

Chase gave me a look that said he was very uncomfortable with the answer,
"She's in Cuddy's office."

"Now what?" I was frustrated. Every infraction meant that Cameron went
crying to Cuddy.

Chase gave me a lot of faces, which told me he was having a hard time
framing the answer.

"Oh for God's sake Chase, spit it out."

He shrugged his shoulders, "She thinks you raped Jordan last night."

My head snapped back like he had just slapped me, "WHAT?"

"We found Jordan on the floor of your office last night in pretty bad
shape. She was bruised and disheveled and her panties were torn off of
her. She wouldn't tell us who did it and she refused to let Cameron take a
semen sample. I drove her back to the Embassy Suites and she cried most of
the way."

I grabbed my keys and ran off. I called the Lab but she wasn't there. I
told them I had the last of her clothing to give her and needed to drop it
off at the Embassy Suites. They told me her room number just as I was
pulling into the parking lot of the hotel.

 ***

House parked in the handicap spot since he still had a placard and ran
inside. He took the elevator to the second floor and found Rm. 214. He
knocked on the door. Jordan got up and looked through the peep hole to
find out who it was. When she saw it was House she was afraid.

She tried to sound calm, "Go away."

"Not going to happen. You have two options, let me in or call the police
because I'm going to make a big scene here."

Jordan didn't give it a second thought, she knew Greg's voice and he
wasn't bluffing. She undid the locks and opened the door. When he saw her
all the wind went out of his sail. She was standing there in a little
short night gown. Her eye was black and blue from her forehead down
through the orbital socket. Her wrists were bruised and he could see
bruising on the thigh just below her gown.

He drew back in horror. He just kept staring at her. He closed his eyes
and without looking at her asked, "Did I do that?"

She didn't answer but her crying told him the truth. She crawled up on the
bed and grabbed some Kleenex. She was watching him, he was unable to open
his eyes and see what he had done. It took him a couple of minutes to
compose himself.

His voice was hoarse and tight, like he was trying to control it. "Jordi,"
He opened his eyes and looked into hers and then away, "you need to call
the police. If I did this to you, I need to go to jail. I want you to know
that I don't remember doing this, but it's inexcusable. I am truly sorry."
He walked over and sat down on the sofa.

She had no intention of calling the cops and putting the man who would
probably be the father of her child in jail. She looked at him and he
looked pitiful, like he had been living too hard lately. They were both a
mess physically and mentally.

"I won't call the police if you get some help and stop drinking so much."

He finally looked at her and grimaced from what he saw, "Tell me what I
did."

"You grabbed me on the way out of the bathroom, dragged me into your
office and raped me." There, she had said it. She wanted to add that he
was drunk, didn't know what he was doing, but she knew he was probably
making up excuses in his head and if she gave him one he might not go get
help, he was Gregory House. He was in a sorry state all hunched up and
long faced. He ran into the bathroom and threw up.

He came out a little ashen and asked, "Can I have some water?"

"There's bottled water in the frig."

He walked over to the kitchenette, grabbed a bottle of water out of the
frig and chugged it down. He wiped his mouth and looked around the room,
"This suits you. You never did need a real home, did you?"

"Excuse me? What do you mean by that...I thought I had a real home with
you."

"You never made it yours though. It was mine with you storing some things
there. Or at least that's how it felt."

"Are you saying because I didn't redecorate and put up chintz drapes, I
wasn't committed to us?" She was starting to get defensive. "Don't make me
feel like any of this was my fault. I tried desperately to get you to go
with me for couple's counseling and you laughed at me. Stick to the issue
at hand...remember last night you beat me up to get sex...that's the
issue."

He looked down at his feet and shook his head to acknowledge her. "I'll
get help. I need it."

"Greg you told me last night that you love me that you can't handle loving
anyone as much as you love me. That it's too painful when things happen
that you can't control. What did you mean by that?"

He walked back over to the couch, "I said that?"

She nodded.

He looked across the room and out the window. He thought about it and then
looked at her. "You were in that bed, that hospital bed and it hit me that
you could die and I couldn't control that, I couldn't control you being on
the roads, hitting ice, hitting a tree. If you had died at that moment I
would have died with you. I loved you so much. And then when they showed
me Blythe," He started crying, "I realized I couldn't help her, I couldn't
control what had happened to her. It killed me. I had no control over what
happened when it counted. It was easier to just go numb, stop caring, push
you away. Make it so that if something happened to you I wouldn't feel it.
But I go home at night and there's nothing, just nothing. And all those
feelings I pushed down and away come back at night like a rotten hooker,
no relief but I still have to pay." He got up and wiped his tears and
looked at her, "I'll get help but if you call the cops I'll understand."
He opened the door and left.

"FUCKKKKKKKKKKK." She screamed. She felt worse than ever. There was
another knock on the door. She hoped it was him, she wanted to tell him so
much. She ran and opened the door and saw Cuddy, Cameron and the police
standing at the door.

 ***

Cuddy looked at her and said, "Jordan! My God what happened. Cameron said
you were raped last night."

I ran to get a robe, put it on and came back to the door.

"I wasn't raped last night." I told her as seriously as I could.

Cameron shook her head fiercely, "Yes, you were."

"Ma'am, you look pretty beat up. Whoever did this to you needs to be
punished."

I thought to myself that no one could punish him as much as he's been
punished or is punishing himself. "Officer, I hate to have to admit this
in front of everyone but this was consensual sex that kind of got out of
control. I'm sorry you were dragged here, but I was not raped."

"All right Ma'am, but if you change your mind, here's my card, call us and
we'll take your statement."

Cameron was angry, "You can't leave, she was raped."

"Sorry doctor but if she refuses to call it rape, we can't do anything.
Goodbye ladies." With that they left and Jordan opened the door and let
Cameron and Cuddy inside.

Cameron looked at her, "Who are you protecting? Please tell me it's not
House, not after what he's put you through."

Cuddy sat down and looked at me, "Jordan, I hope it's not House. I'd like
to think he's incapable of doing this. But if it is, he needs help, you
need to do something."

I went to the frig and got a bottle of water. I held it up to see if they
wanted one too. They both shook their heads no. "Look, I appreciate your
concern and I'm glad I have two people in my life who care, but I've dealt
with it. I spoke with the guy who did this and it's being taken care of.
If it's any consolation, the person who did this was very drunk."

Cuddy shook her head, "House was drunk as a skunk last night. Oh my God,
he did do this."

"Lisa, I'm not saying it was House or anyone that you even know. Please
drop it and know that I have my reasons for what I'm doing. This person
would never physically hurt anyone else, he didn't mean to hurt me."

"Are you sure? House has been drinking a lot in the last two months. You
sure he won't get behind the wheel or get angry at someone and start a
fight or something stupid like that?"

"If you want to talk about Greg, I will, but only because YOU brought him
up. I didn't say it was him. Greg's out of control and he knows it. He's
going to get help and he's going to slow down the drinking."

"He's no longer your husband so I don't have to keep him at PPTH if he
continues his current behavior." Lisa shook her head, "By the way, the
patent came through yesterday...the Board wants to honor you at a dinner.
Your patent will put us on the map forever and build a whole new wing to
the hospital. I'm forever grateful."

After Jordan assured them that she was fine, they left. Jordan decided to
take the day off and just read, watch television and sleep. It had been a
difficult twenty four hours. The following day Jordan flew back to Merida.

The next Friday after she got home she called Wilson. Wilson was clearly
concerned, "Did he really rape you? I'm having a hard time believing that
he would do anything to hurt you."

"What happened was between Greg and I, I just want to know if he has
gotten help."

"Help? Didn't you know. Last Friday he checked himself back into rehab,
this time for alcohol. He's still in there. He's seeing a shrink privately
and then he has group. You know part of his therapy will be having to say
he's sorry to the people he's hurt."

"Well that will take a few years."

Wilson laughed, "Are you pregnant?"

"I wasn't as of two weeks ago."

"What does that mean? Did you use another blastocyte? You know if you get
pregnant, House is going to put two plus two together. He may try to
insert himself into your life if you're pregnant with his child."

"If he wants to be a Dad to his child, I probably won't stop him. He won't
be down to Merida very often, so I don't envision it being a real
problem."

"It's House, it will be a problem." We both chuckled.

She flew back up to Princeton five days later and went to the drug rehab
center at PPTH and waited in the visitors lounge. When Greg came in he
still had a hard time looking at Jordan even though the black eye was now
just a very faint yellow. He looked at her face, shook his head and tried
to smile, "You're looking better."

She nodded, he looked pretty bad, no booze, no sleep and lots of
psychoanalyzing, everything he hated with a passion. "You, on the other
hand, look like crap."

"Hmmm. I feel like crap."

"When do you get out?"

"Tuesday. My shrink says I should have gone with you to get counseling and
I probably wouldn't be in this mess. If I tell him you're here he might
want to have a joint session. Would you be up for it?"

"It's a little late for that. We've done enough damage to each other,
haven't we?"

"Yeah. I guess." He looked so disappointed that she relented, as usual.

"Does it mean that much to you? To have this session together? Would it
help you?"

He looked up and into her eyes, "It would mean a lot. You've known me
longer than anyone Jordi. I've hurt you the most. I'd like to know why,
especially when I love you the most."

She let out her breath, "Don't say that. I won't come if you keep saying
you love me. I can't take that from you Greg. That hurts."

"Ok, can you come at 11:00 a.m. on Monday? I'm sure he'll be happy to have
you."

"Sure, but if he says no, call me before I come over. I'll be at the lab.
In the meantime, are you making good use of your time in here? No
orderlies slipping you Vicodin or a pint of whiskey?"

"No, no Vicodin, no booze...just a great desire to shoot one of the
whiners in my group. If I hear one more time, "It wasn't my fault" come
out of his mouth, I'll have to remove him from the gene pool."

 ***

My therapist thought that I was starting to be honest with myself for the
first time in years and that I was working hard. First, I was too tired to
make up lies but, second, I would have done anything to get Jordan back
and this was working. She had no legitimate reason to be back in Princeton
so quickly and yet when Wilson tells her I'm in rehab, she flies hundreds
of miles to come see me. She was so predictable. 

I wasn't lying about the feelings. I had made myself go numb but as soon
as the feelings for her started to return, I had to anaesthetize myself
with booze to keep them below the surface. But they just kept coming and I
kept drinking. After a few months even the booze couldn't keep the genie
in the bottle. I was miserable again, a feeling I was all to familiar
with. My feelings for her were too strong and I wanted her back. I went
into rehab to get her back and to stay out of jail.

The whole sex thing freaked me out. Hurting Jordi physically is so
repugnant to me that I still feel sick when I think about it. I really
gambled with my life when I offered to go to jail. But I knew Jordi would
never turn me in, she's a sucker when it comes to me. I'm her Achilles
heel. But then, she's mine.

I told my therapist that Jordi was in town and would be joining me at
11:00 a.m. He thought it was too soon to have a joint session, but I told
him, "It's not like Merida is Trenton, she can't just take an afternoon
off and drive over when it's convenient for us." He relented and said to
bring her in.

She showed up in a shirtdress and sensible shoes, loafers. I imagined that
under her shirt dress was a plain bra and little cotton bikinis. Sensible.
We sat with Jordi on one end of the couch, me on the other and Dr. Lennox,
or Anton as I called him, was in the easy chair next to the couch.

"Dr. Palmer, thanks for joining us. I want you to know that I'm very
impressed with your work and even more impressed with what you did last
year, your commitment to helping Greg in the face of losing your career
and possible freedom. Not many people have the conviction to do what you
did but it also begs the question, why? Greg's personality is almost
anti-social..."

I butted in, "...Almost?"

Anton continued, "Ok, anti-social. Why are, no forget that, why WERE you
so attracted to him? Why did you fall in love with him?"

"He wasn't quite as anti-social when we first met as he is now. Believe it
or not he could actually entertain people without sending them screaming
from the room. Don't get me wrong, he's always been caustic and biting and
sometimes brutally cruel, but most of the time when we were together he
was incredibly gentle, loving, kind, generous and funny. And great in bed.
At least he was until after my accident." She looked over furtively at me,
"He was a monster after the accident. He treated me like dirt."

"And yet, here you are." Anton pointed out.

She chuckled, "Pathetic, I know. But it's hard to give up on him."

Anton looked at her, smiled and said, "I think he's having the same
problem. Maybe we can get some closure today so that the two of you can
let go of each other."

"What?" I stood up and then realized I had gotten to my feet. I sat down,
"I don't want closure, I want Jordi."

Anton shook his head, "Greg, you think you want Jordan but you're just
having trouble letting go of her. It's typical, you don't want her but you
don't want anyone else to have her. I think you need to let her go. From
what you told me, you were pretty ruthless to her these last six months."

"Are you a moron?" I couldn't believe that he was feeding Jordan this
drivel. She might buy it, "I was an idiot, I thought if I drove her away I
could drive away my feelings with her. Look what it did. I'm in here
because of it. Anton, I don't know where you had your degree printed, but
the only thing that I need or want right now is Jordi." I shook my head in
disbelief and then turned to her, "Jordi, come back to me, let's stop the
divorce and work it out."

Anton laughed, "Now that's the most honest you've been the whole time
you've been in here. Greg, I know you love Jordan. I know that rehab was a
ploy to get her back. Now, can you start being honest with me in our
sessions?"

I had been hoisted on my petard and worse, it was in front of Jordi. I
looked at Jordi and it was clear that I needed to answer affirmatively or
I risked losing her forever. "Jordi, will you wait for me to work through
this? Will you postpone filing the final decree?"

"I see. You want me to postpone my life to accommodate you again?" she was
getting pissed. "Worse, you did this to get me back? Can't you just do
something without some ulterior motive? I hate to think that all of this
is a farce, that you don't really think you need help."

Anton butted in before I could respond, "Jordan, let me at least come to
Greg's defense on this one. I have no doubt that he's here to win you
back, but it doesn't mean he hasn't been working on things. We're making
progress. It's slow going but I think it's going to accelerate now that he
knows I'm on to him."

I kept my mouth shut.

Jordan looked very uncomfortable, like she didn't know how to answer. She
was wringing her hands and tears were falling. She threw her hands up and
ran out of the office. I looked at Anton, "Should I go after her?"

"No, you won't like her answer if you badger her right now. Let her have
time to think on this one. Give me her cell phone number and I'll call her
later and ask her to come back and see you. You're one lucky bastard,
she's probably going to come back to you and you don't deserve her."

I was shocked, this guy was pretty bright, I had underestimated him. "Yeah
I know she'll take me back and I know how lucky I am...now do I really
have to stay here?"

"Yeah, you really need help House, badly, or you're going to push every
woman in your life away eventually. And you don't want to push Jordan
away, do you?"

I sighed, "Ok, let's keep going."

 ***

I was so disappointed, he didn't want the therapy for himself, he wanted
it as bait for me. What a fool I was. I was always wanting to forgive him.
I always wanted to give him that second chance.

When my cell phone rang I didn't recognize the telephone number so I
answered it. "Dr. Palmer?"

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Anton Lennox."

"Oh, Doctor, what can I do for you?"

"It's what I can do for you. You're beating yourself up by now, thinking
he just entered rehab to get you back. I thought I'd put your concerns to
rest. Yes, he entered it to see if you would come back but it's not that
simple. He knew he needed help, it's easier to believe that he's doing
this to get you back than to ask for help or even admit to himself that he
needs it. But he knows it or he'd have figured another way to get you
back. Going through rehab isn't the easiest way. He could have told you he
had joined group therapy once a week or was seeing a therapist, but
instead, he chose to be institutionalized. So don't beat yourself up. He
loves you enough to be trying to get some answers and hopefully change his
behavior."

"What's wrong with me?"

He started laughing, "Yeah, I'd be asking that too if I were you. But
again, don't beat yourself up. This guy loves you and you know that.
Because he loved you so much he had to push you away. If he gives me the
authority to talk to you, I'll share some more, but just know he's not the
evil bastard he'd like us all to believe. He's just a bastard."

"He's charmed you, you better take off your blinders." I warned.

"Oh he's far from charming, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes for all
the money in the world. He's never going to be easy. And don't kid
yourself, you're going back to him, but let me just give you a tip,
negotiate it with him. Whatever you think you need from him, get it now
while he's desperate."

I laughed. "Thanks doc."

House was released from Rehab the following day. Around 5:00 p.m. I was
walking across campus to get back to the hospital when I saw him sitting
on a bench. I looked at him sideways, suspicious. He patted the bench next
to him. I sat down, he put his arm around me, I took it off. He put his
hand on my knee, I removed it.

"Ok, I get it. What do I have to do?"

"You have to continue with your therapy for at least one year, let the
doctor talk to me about your progress and go easy on the booze."

"You drive a hard bargain, how about six months of therapy?"

I got up and started walking. He ran up to me, "Ok, ok...one year."

"We'll dismiss the divorce and I'll move back up to Princeton."

He was all grins. I think I was too. Can anyone tell me why I love this
man so much?

"Are you at the Embassy Suites?"

"Yes, why?"

"I'll drive you there to get your things and take you home."

When we got to the suites he started taking off his clothes. "I thought we
were going home?"

"Hey, you've paid for the room tonight, let's at least mess the bed
up...it's always fun to do it somewhere else. Come on, make love, not war,
let's get it on and do some sexual healing because I want your sex."

"Are you going to talk in song titles all night?"

"That's the way, uh huh, I like it, uh huh uh huh..."

"People are Strange." I started taking off my clothes and was down to my
panties.

House looked appreciatively at my body, "Baby got Back..."

"Besame Mucho, Blue Eyes."

"Baby I'm Yours..."

I put an end to the silliness by grabbing him and kissing him. He was very
gentle using his tongue to please me first, it was quite a contrast to the
last time he had sex with me. This time it was slow and sweet. When we
were done he looked at me. "You're pregnant."

I looked at him like he was nuts, "I doubt it, I took a test two weeks ago
and it was negative. I used one of our blastocytes but it didn't take."

"I hate to remind you because of the circumstances, but we did have sex a
few weeks ago. Your breasts are bigger, the areolas are darker, they're
also sore-I saw you flinch- and your labia is swollen and purple. We're
having a baby! Having my baby, what a lovely way of saying how much you
love me...having my baby...."

"I hate that song, could you give it a rest? Do you really think I'm
pregnant?"

"Yes. You are one fertile woman."

"Let's go home. Please?"

"Ok honey... we go home."

We packed up my things and went home. I walked in, looked around and we
went to bed. I watched Greg sleeping and wondered if this was going to be
my life, washing his clothes, sleeping in his bed, listening to him play
piano, watching television with him, listening to him rant. I hoped so.

The next day Greg and I walked in holding hands and Cuddy, who was
standing at the nurse's desk, was stunned. Her jaw dropped and she shook
her head. "What does this mean?"

"We're not really holding hands, we're trying to keep each other's hands
out of the other's pocket, it's part of the property settlement
agreement."

Lisa looked at me, "Jordan, you tell me what's going on, he won't give me
a straight answer."

"We aren't getting a divorce, we're giving it another chance." I looked at
her and she was shaking her head at me like I was a fool.

House looked at her and wiggled his eyebrows, "I am that good in bed."

"House, I don't know what power you have over this woman but you better be
grateful."

"We need some blood taken for a pregnancy test."

"Really?"

"Yes, I say she's pregnant. She doesn't believe me. But who are you going
to believe?"

"Jordan, House tends to be right about these things. Congratulations."

The entire hospital was buzzing by the end of the day. My staff was
confused and worried about me. They thought I was crazy and of course they
were correct.

I went back to Merida and packed up my things again...not much to pack
since I gave most of it away. I flew to Princeton and went back to work.
Two weeks later I walked down to House's office and handed him a key.

"What is this?" he looked up with a serious frown.

"A key to the house."

He looked at me with squinted eyes, "What house?"

"I bought a three story house, it was vacant and I thought it was nice. I
put $560,000 down on it, and we owe $940,000 on it. It's just south of
Princeton. It's on two acres, nice back yard. It has a conservatory for
your piano, a library for your books and a family room for your
television."

"Are you crazy? You just went out and bought a house without talking to me
about what I want?"

"Pretty much. Look, I'm happy to have you live with us but if you feel the
need to stay in your apartment and come over when you want, we have enough
money that you can do that. But I can't stay in that apartment with a
baby."

"So we are pregnant?"

"Baby in tow."

He smiled, "Well, let's have a look this afternoon. What is the address?"

I gave him the address. That afternoon we drove over together. He got out
of the car and started laughing, "Well, when you buy a house, you buy a
house!"

"It's 5960 Square Feet, three bedrooms, library, conservatory, living
room, family room, eat in kitchen and formal dining room. Oh, four 1/2
bathrooms." 

"We're going from a one bedroom apartment to this?"

"Is there a problem with that? It's my first house."

We moved everything in the following week and Greg was in awe, his closet
was as big as a small bedroom and it had a window. All of my meager
belongings filled up less than a quarter of my bedroom closet. We put
House's furniture in the library with my LCD television. We ended up
spending a lot of our time in there, especially as the weather turned
cold. The library was carpeted and had a fire place. It was a warm cozy
room. Besides, we didn't have any furniture in the rest of the house.

We had Thanksgiving with Cuddy and for Christmas I bought a fourteen foot
tree and put it in the foyer. It took me four hours to string the lights
and put what few decorations I had up. I had to go back and buy more. We
had six people over for Christmas including Wilson, Cuddy and Chase. When
we weren't in the dining room, we were in the library where the furniture
was.

Wilson finally spoke up, "You know I'm a little worried here. House is too
lazy to go furniture shopping and Jordan, you have an aversion to buying
things, especially domestic things. You guys are having a baby, you might
want to think about buying furniture and putting down roots?"

I finally took the week between Christmas and New Year's and went
shopping. Greg couldn't be bothered no matter how much I begged him to
come with me. I brought home a brochure from the furniture store of some
very opulent French Provencal furniture and told him I had purchased a
whole house full of it. There was panic in his face. I just wanted him to
suffer for making me do it on my own. In reality I bought the Kathy
Ireland Nottingham collection and figured he'd just have to get used to
it. When the furniture arrived I could tell he was relieved. It wasn't
really his taste but it wasn't French Provencal furniture either. He could
live with what I bought. I even bought the baby furniture because we had
given away everything we had bought for Blythe (even though we hadn't
assembled it.) 

I didn't know what to put on the walls. For several months the house
looked like a model home with no one really living there. I was starting
to spend a lot of time in the family room reading or watching television,
shows I liked. House was sticking to the library. On occasion one of us
would wander into the other's space and watch a DVD or program. I think
the "separate but One" rooms saved our marriage. We were close and laughed
a lot but when we needed space we would just drift away until we could
tolerate conversation and then we'd go in search of the other half of the
"We." 

I realized that I was going to be living in Princeton for awhile, that my
nomadic life was over. I had a house full of furniture, a husband, a child
on the way and Princeton Plainsboro was making me feel like I couldn't go
anywhere. The neurology department's referrals were so high that a wing
was being added devoted to neurology, neurosurgery, neuroengineering and
neurobiology. They wanted to name it after me, the Palmer Institute but I
demanded that they name it after a hyphenated name that I never used,
Palmer-House Institute of Neurology. It was my way of not taking it too
seriously. I knew the board of directors wanted my name on it but the idea
of adding Greg House's was painful to them. But they did it. The actual
building to house the institute would be finished in two years. 

 I have to admit that in my last month of pregnancy I started to panic. I
started to realize that I was bound now to Princeton, I was starting to
have panic attacks which weren't good for the baby. House wasn't amused
and thought I was being silly, no one my age worryies about settling down,
"it's not like the farm, we're not going to make you milk cows. You can
still go places." 

"I don't know who I am right now. Am I a scientist, a doctor, a wife, a
mother? I feel disassociated from me. I feel like I'm being swallowed up."

"You'll just have to get over yourself." And he would walk away. I don't
think he realized how scared I really was.

One weekend just before Greg's birthday I couldn't take it. I got in the
car and started driving, stopping what seemed to be every five minutes to
pee. I had been driving for hours when I realized that I was near
Columbus! I had my cell phone turned off because I just wanted to think.
When I turned it on I had fifteen messages, most from Greg. I was two
weeks away from my due date and I suppose a missing pregnant woman would
stir up some concerns. It just goes to show you how worried I was because
I hadn't even thought about what it was doing to everyone in Princeton. I
wasn't the runaway bride, I was the runaway mom. Problem with being
pregnant is that you take the problem with you...hard to run away from
motherhood when it's kicking you in the ribs.

I dialed Greg and knew that he would see on his caller i.d. that it was
me. He didn't say hello, he just yelled in my ear, "WHERE THE FUCK ARE
YOU?"

"I told you I've been scared, that I..."

"I could give a flying rat's ass how scared you are, get your fat ass back
here and bring my kid home. Where are you?"

I said as soft as I could, "Columbus," and then braced for the storm.

"COLUMBUS? COLUMBUS, OHIO? WHY? What the hell is in Columbus? I don't
understand you...what in the world could be going through that tiny brain
of yours?"

I didn't answer, I just started sobbing into the receiver. I heard him
sigh..."Jordi, you have to get a grip..." Click. I couldn't help it, I had
to hang up, he just made me more anxious. The phone rang back. I turned it
off and got back into the car and started driving west. Now I was pissed.
He really could be such an ass. 

Three hours later I was in Indiana, headed for Indianapolis. I was tired
and the baby was kicking me so hard I had to pull over. I hadn't eaten
since breakfast when the attack hit me. I had been eating bacon and eggs,
watching a program on childbirth and realized I had to get my vagina over
a small bowling ball and then I had to feed the bowling ball and polish
it's bottom. I grabbed my purse and my keys and got into the Escape and
took off.

I pulled over just west of Indianapolis and got a room, it was midnight. I
laid down and fell asleep. I woke up when the baby kept kicking my ribs. I
got up, it was 6:00 a.m. so I took a shower and got in the car. I drove
into a MacDonald's and got an egg and sausage McMuffin. I then drove into
Kmart and bought some panties, bras, maternity shorts, jeans and tops. I
had on my sneakers so I just bought additional socks. I threw some snacks,
water and hand wipes into the cart and drove southwest towards St. Louis.
I knew where I was going now.

I blew through St. Louis on my way towards Springfield and then home to
Guthrie, OK. I suspected that Greg was absolutely livid with me so I
thought I would call Cuddy. It was Sunday evening and I was just pulling
out of Tulsa, Oklahoma on my last leg to Guthrie. I hadn't been to Guthrie
for eight years, not since my Mom died.

"Hello, Jordan is this you?

I hated caller I.D., the person answering always got the leg up. "Yes."

"I know House is an ass...well, you know he's an ass. But he's going
absolutely crazy with worry and just wants to talk to you. Where are you?"

"Tulsa."

"Tulsa!" She sounded just as shocked and upset as House had been, but she
backed down, "Ok, ok, now can you tell me exactly where you are?" She was
talking to me like I was a suicide case standing on the ledge of a
skyscraper.

"Lisa, I'm not suicidal, I'm just nuts. I'm going home to Guthrie. I need
to go home for some inexplicable reason. Just tell my asshole husband that
his fat ass wife is ok and so is the baby. If he'll behave then I'll stay
on the phone when I call him tomorrow." I hung up.

I pulled into Guthrie at 9:00 p.m. and found the Gold Penny Inn, a B,
registered, had a lite supper of cheese, crackers and chicken noodle soup.
I went to my bedroom and crawled up in the nice queen size bed and fell
asleep. 

The next morning I got up early, took a bath, soaked for awhile and then
sat back down on the bed to call Greg. I was calmer than I had been in
awhile. I felt strangely happy about being home. I wanted to get the phone
call over with so I could drive out to the dairy farm and see if it was
still there.

He picked up, "Jordi?" He was calm.

"Yes, Greg?"

I heard someone in the background talking to him, giving him directions on
how to talk to me, I laughed to myself, "Where are you?" he asked.

"I stayed at the Gold Penney Inn in Guthrie. Greg? Who's telling you what
to say?"

"Wilson and Cuddy. They're both here to make sure I don't go postal."

"Oh."

"When are you coming home...honey?"

The honey was added on, I assume because Wilson or Cuddy told him to add
it on. "I don't know."

"Come on, for Christ's..."His voice was getting agitated and I heard both
Cuddy and Wilson yelling at him in the background. I kind of felt sorry
for him. They were keeping a lid on him, a tight lid at that. "Jordi. Come
home, please. We'll talk about whatever you want to talk about."

"Oh give me a break, I'll get home and you'll call me a moron and tell me
to get over myself and get a grip."

I could hear a lot of talking in the background and finally House yelling
at them, "Shut up, look, she's not buying Mr. Nice Guy, she knows me too
well." There was a huge pause, he took a deep breath and he said, "I love
you and you're scaring the crap out of me. What the hell has gotten into
you?"

"I don't know who I am right now, am I a doctor, a wife, a mother, a
scientist...I have all these titles but for right now I want to be
Jordan."

"Oh, excuse me if I have a hard time buying that crap. You're all those
things Jordi and more."

I thought about it and I understood what he was trying to tell me and in
his own stupid way he was right, but it still didn't answer why I was
feeling so lost. "Greg," I sighed, "don't worry, I'll come home soon. I
love you honey, I really love you. Bye sweetie."

I got dressed and first drove through Guthrie. Guthrie was being turned
into a western boutique town for tourists to come and relive the old west.
It had nice restaurants, playhouses, boutiques, museums and nicely dressed
characters from the old west. Then I drove the ten miles out of town to my
parent's farm. For the most part it was still there, a few new
outbuildings had been added and the silo was looking freshly painted. I
got out and walked around. I stuck my head in the barn and saw a couple
head of Holsteins, but most of the cows were out in the barnyard. I saw a
mixture of Holsteins and some Guernseys to bring up the butter fat. They
wouldn't make their way back to the barn until the late afternoon when it
was time to be milked. I heard a voice behind me, "Can I help you ma'am?"

"Oh, hi. My name is..."

"I know who you are Dr. Palmer, you're a big celebrity around here. I
bought the farm from your brother. My name is Dutch Knudson. My wife is in
the house, I'm sure she'd like to meet you. Would you like to come
inside?"

"Yes, that would be lovely."

I followed him into the house that had harbored me my first 14 years. The
kitchen was different, more modern, stainless steel appliances, granite
counters and a nice green color. But the layout was the same and I still
knew that I was in my old house. I met Dutch's wife, Donna and she was
about three months behind me in her pregnancy. 

"You're about ready to pop aren't you?"

"Yes...any day now." We all sat down at the kitchen table.

Dutch asked, "Where's your husband? Dr. House isn't it? The doc who was
shot by his own patient?"

I giggled, "It was a patient's husband and he's in Princeton."

"He let you come to Guthrie by yourself when you're about ready to have
your baby?" Donna asked.

"Oh, believe me he'd love it if I were in Princeton right now and no, I
didn't ask his permission to come."

Dutch opened the refrigerator and got out some Lipton Ice Tea in a
pitcher, "I see. So why are you here?"

He poured me a glass and then one for Donna and himself, "I wanted to come
home, see where I grew up, figure a few things out."

"Would you like to see the rest of the house and farm?" Dutch offered.

"I would love that."

They took me through the house and I saw my little room in the attic. It
was more or less being used for storage now. I looked out the window at
the scene I saw all my childhood. There was a small pond, the gravel road
to the farm and the church in the distance.

I went out and looked around the farm with Dutch. He had been fixing his
tractor, a rather old John Deere. He needed it to bring in the hay in the
fields. I walked over to the tractor.

"I can't seem to find the problem and the hay is going to turn if I don't
get it in."

"Let me take a look." I said.

He looked at me suspiciously. I knew he was having a hard time letting a
woman help him fix a tractor. But he was nice enough to let me look it
over. I looked at the engine, prodded around and saw that he needed a new
head gasket, not a cheap fix. "You've got a bad head gasket, see here." I
pointed it out.

His face fell, he hadn't noticed the crack in the head gasket. "Did you
work on tractors when you were on the farm?"

"I'm an engineer, engineering is engineering. The head gasket, it's just a
big o ring to me. You need to get your hay in, is this going to set you
back?"

"I'll need to get a loan from the bank, I just put out all my money on
silage and a new pump."

"Getting a loan will cost you several days. Don't they still have the John
Deere dealer just outside of Oklahoma City? We could get a head gasket
today and get it fixed by this afternoon."

"But I don't have credit down there and I don't have the cash."

"I need a room tonight and I'm willing to pay the cost of a head gasket if
you'll feed me and put me up and let me milk the cows."

"Excuse me ma'am? Are you ok? A head gasket for a John Deere is about
$2,000."

"Dutch, I have a credit card here that has a limit of $50,000, I'm worth
millions of dollars. I want to have one more night on this farm before I
become a parent myself. I want to be close to my parents, try to imagine
what they felt like knowing that this would be their life...it sounds
touchy feely, but I really need this."

"I can't charge you to stay here. You're welcomed to stay here free."

"Well Dutch, my parents taught me that you don't go stay with someone
unless you take a gift, I need to buy a gift in Oklahoma City, can you
drive me there? I won't take no as an answer."

We drove down, picked up the head gasket and when we got back, we had
lunch. Afterwards, Dutch and I went out to the tractor and moved it under
the canopy to keep us out of the sun.

"Why don't you go inside Doctor, I can do this."

"Goes quicker when we do it together." I was already rolling up my sleeves
to help pull the engine head. I used the power tools to unscrew the head
bolts and Dutch worked on the other end of it. We got the head off and
exposed the gasket. Obviously, this took a lot longer than it sounds. We
were there five hours and we were both covered in grease. Donna brought us
ice tea and a snack. I told him that we needed to change the oil while we
had the engine apart so while he worked on the head gasket, I pulled the
oil plug and started draining the oil. I was having a blast, it reminded
me of my days with my Dad. 

"Uh, Dr. Jordan?" I heard Donna's voice.

I was under the tractor, "Yes?"

"There's someone here to see you."

"Me?" I pulled myself out from under the tractor and saw two designer
sneakers and knew I was in trouble.

I looked up and there he was staring down at me.

"Hi Greg."

 ***

I flew out to Oklahoma City as soon as she hung up. I rented a car and
drove to the bed and breakfast and they told me she had checked out but
was going to go to her parent's old farm. I had to ask around to find out
where the Palmer farm was but I finally found someone who had known her
and her parents. I drove out and got to the farm at 5:30 p.m. 

I saw Jordi's Escape and knew I was in the right place. I went to the
front door and was met by a mousy pregnant woman who waddled almost as
badly as my wife. 

"Hello, I'm Greg House."

"I'm Donna, you must be looking for Dr. Jordan. She's out back, would you
like some ice tea?" 

"Actually, that sounds good, but I'd like to see my wife first."

"Sure, she's out back changing the head gasket on the tractor."

"I'm sure she is. Do you make all guests work on your tractors or just
very pregnant women?"

Donna looked appropriately insulted, "Oh, she wanted to work on it."

She took me out the back and I saw Jordi's legs sticking out from under
the tractor. When she looked up she was covered in grease and grinning
from ear to ear. I almost started laughing, she looked so happy.

"Greg, help me up." I gave her a hand but it was always interesting trying
to pull her up on her feet. I never knew how much force to use, especially
since she was getting heavier. I pulled on her and she stood up and wiped
her hands on her maternity jeans. "Honey, this is Dutch. I see you met
Donna. Dutch, this is my husband, Greg House, the guy who got shot."

She grabbed me and kissed me, getting grease on my face. I wanted to be
angry with her, let her know just how upset and indignant I was, but she
was so pretty and sweet standing there. I tried not to laugh at her but I
couldn't help it.

She laughed back, "We have to go in now and milk the cows, come on. Have
you ever milked cows?"

"I've had a few cows in my life, but I never had to milk them."

She kissed me again. We went across the barnyard and into what she said
was the milking parlor. She and Dutch were talking and acting on
autopilot. She turned on a pump and vacuum while Dutch opened a door to
let the cows filter in. The cows came in on two ramps with a pit
in-between them. Dutch and Jordi were standing in the pit with stainless
steel cups in their hands. They each took one side. The cows were elevated
about two feet off the ground, making it easier to get to their teats.

"Greg, this is a strip cup. I take the teats on each of the cows and shoot
a stream of milk into the strip cup. If there's something strange the
little strainer on the teat cup will catch it and we can examine it.
Otherwise, the first milk out of the teat isn't fit for drinking and is
fairly high in bacteria, so we strip each teat of the bad milk this way.
Then I take this cup of iodine and dip each teat in it to clean it before
milking them. Now they're ready. I put the milking cups on them and
flipped the vacuum nob and the milking cups suck the milk right out and
into the tank. We'll dip the teats in iodine before they leave." She gave
me a silly look and then turned back to the cows she was milking. 

She did it without any effort and without worry. The animals came and went
and within an hour they were done milking. They cleaned out the crap,
actually Jordi wanted me to clean out the cow shit but I wouldn't, so when
Jordi started shoveling it I got some pretty strange looks from Dutch. I
realized he thought it was odd that I let my very pregnant wife shovel
shit, but I figured this was her fantasy vacation, she should do it. Then
she slipped and almost fell. I took the shovel from her and began to
shovel shit out of the parlor. We finished and then she and Dutch went
back to the tractor. Within an hour they had it buttoned up and running.
We all walked back to the house. Inside Donna had a huge meal waiting for
us. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, carrots, green beans, rolls,
and pie. It was fun watching Jordi tuck in and eat, looking like a
mechanic and smelling like cow dung.

"Can Greg stay tonight too?" she said with her mouth full.

Dutch answered, "Sure the guest room has a full bed. He's welcomed here."

I wanted to go back to Guthrie and get a real room, with nice sheets and
an LCD television, but I wasn't going to let my crazy wife out of my
sight. After dinner, Jordan gave me instructions to dry the dishes while
she got a shower. I did as I was told. Donna asked questions about Jordan,
how we met, what Princeton was like. Dutch asked about getting shot.

"Gee Dutch, it was about the most fun anyone can have in one day!"

He gave me a strange look and then chuckled. "Well Greg, I can see why he
shot you." I deserved that but I couldn't help but look a little miffed.
Jordan walked in dressed in a maternity blouse and shorts. I secretly
loved seeing her pregnant, it was so out of the ordinary and she looked so
young and sweet. I also got a strange boost knowing that at 50 I had
knocked up my wife. It was a real ego booster. Especially as most of my
hair was turning gray or had departed.

She sat down and watched me dry the rest of the dishes. We then played
some cards, a game called Euchre. After a few rounds, we went to bed. I
asked her, "What the hell is this all about? What are we doing in the
middle of a dairy farm?"

"I needed to come home and connect with my parents. I don't have my Mom
around to tell me how to do this, be a Mom and be Jordan. I wish I knew if
she ever felt like all the titles were swallowing her. I thought if I
could come here I could somehow feel it. I think it's working because I
feel really good right now." She paused, looked me in the eye and said,
"You know, you were such a jerk to me, you really need an enema you're so
full of it."

"If I'm so full of it, then why am I here? You scared me, just taking off,
not telling me where you went. I had the New Jersey highway patrol looking
for your car."

"I'm sorry, I needed to get away from it all. Can you just hold me now and
forgive me?"

He frowned, "I'll hold you, so you won't get up and start driving again,
but I'm not forgiving you that easy. I need at least a couple of days of
indignation and righteous wrath." With that I grabbed onto her from
behind, it's too hard to hold a pregnant woman from the front and get any
sleep. 

Later I felt her pull away from me in the dark and I grabbed her back,
"Let me go Greg, it's 5:00 a.m., time to milk the cows. I'm going to go
help Dutch. You stay and get some sleep."

I didn't argue, I fell asleep again.

After I took my shower, I joined them for breakfast. The two pregnant
women were cooking and Dutch was drinking coffee and reading the
newspaper. I sat down and grabbed a section of the paper. I yelled,
"Woman, get me some coffee."

Both Jordi and Donna stopped, turned around and gave me a look that told
me I was spending my last hours here on earth. I got up, grabbed a cup and
poured myself some coffee, smiled at the women and sat back down.

"So what time are we leaving? I asked. I need to take the rental car
back."

"I'm going to help Dutch bring in the hay and then we can go home
tomorrow."

"You are joking right?"

"No, Donna said she'll drive down to the rental place in my car and then
you can drive back. That way we can take off early tomorrow."

"Are you a moron? You could give birth any day, you could give birth right
here in Podunk, Oklahoma. We need to get to civilization."

"Excuse me? I was born in Podunk, Oklahoma and I happened to have gotten
my doctorate when I was 22...what about you?"

I was properly chastised, "I just want to go home, have my baby at home."
I was pouting and I could tell I had just pissed off the Knudsens.

'I promise to make it home for the delivery...promise."

Donna and I took the rental back and when we returned to the farm I walked
out to where they were baling hay. Dutch was doing the baling and Jordi
was driving the tractor with three teenagers throwing the bales up on the
flat bed behind her. She was bouncing up and down and having a great time.
I wondered what our son was thinking. She motioned for me to come out and
I did. She showed me a little step and motioned for me to get up and ride
with her. I did and as I did I watched her maneuver the tractor with the
clutch engaged and shifting gears as she went. 

"Did Donna say when lunch would be ready?" She yelled over the tractor and
baling equipment.

Jordi was always hungry, "At one." I yelled. She nodded back. At 12:30
p.m. we stopped and walked back to the house and each of us washed up
before sitting at the table. The three teenagers came from different farms
around the town. They got paid $75 each for a day's work and the
conversation at the table was lively. They brought Jordi up to date on all
the gossip since she left.

We had sandwiches, coleslaw, fruit and cookies for lunch. I don't think
I've ever seen people eat so much, so fast, in my life. When it was over
we all grabbed a bottle of water and went out to the tractor again. Jordi
told me to go ahead and drive it. We took one load of hay to the barn and
unloaded it. Then on the second go around, I forgot to engage the clutch
on a little hill and dumped the teenagers and the bales of hay all over
the field. Everyone seemed to have a good sense of humor about it because
there was a lot of laughter and no angry insults. I was told that everyone
does it at one time or another. I was actually enjoying myself. It was fun
doing something different and being outdoors. Of course, I had to load up
on Claritin, but that was ok.

That night after Jordi and Dutch milked the cows and we all took our
showers, we went into town and I bought the Knudsens a nice dinner. I
think they even started to mellow towards me. The waitress was hot. She
had on a little skirt and a tight low cut tank top showing off some nice D
cup beauties. Jordi kicked me under the table because I became a little
too obvious in my admiration of them.

"Hey, they're being displayed so I can admire them, what am I suppose to
do, ignore them? That would be rude. Besides as long as I just read the
menu and don't order we're cool right?"

"You're making your pregnant wife feel fat and ugly."

"You are fat, but I wouldn't call you ugly. Maybe round." I got a huge
kick under the table. "Owww."

The next morning we ate breakfast after Jordi was done with the milking.
Jordi exchanged addresses and phone numbers and then we took off. I drove
first and Jordi napped. She put the seat back and grabbed a jacket,
bunched it up and used it as a pillow. She looked really pregnant sprawled
out in the front seat and it finally hit me that this woman was going to
have a baby soon and it was going to look just like me. Ok, maybe not just
like me, but I think every father has that fantasy, right? Anyway, this
realization came to me while I was driving the leg between Tulsa and
Springfield and listening to the Stones, "Waiting for a Friend." I started
to understand what Jordi had been saying. The whole definition of who I
was was about to change. I wasn't going to be the horse betting, drunken,
whoremonger that had defined my life for so long. I was going to have to
think about being a father. I had a cold chill run down my spine and
wondered for a moment if I could just open the door and roll her out while
the car was moving. 

When we got to Columbia, Missouri, I filled up the tank and went to the
bathroom. When I came back she was gone and I have to admit that for a
moment I thought she had taken off again and I was scared. She came back
to the car, her hair disheveled and a large indent on her cheek from
sleeping on the zipper of the jacket, "Do you want me to drive?"

"No, I'm still good. I just needed to stretch." I said.

We got back in the car out of the heat and took off down the road. After
several hours of driving we started talking about the baby. We hadn't
decided on a name for him, I wanted to name him after my favorite
fictional hero, Sherlock Holmes. She said absolutely no. She did say that
we could name the baby after Sherlock Holmes' smarter brother, Mycroft
Holmes. 

I thought about it, "Works for me. Mycroft House. We'll have to call him
Mike or he'll get the crap beat out of him at school. What about a middle
name?"

"Easy, Gregory has to be his middle name." she said with no room for
discussion.

"I don't know, naming him after me? How do I know he's mine?"

"I guess if he has brown eyes you can start divorce proceedings." We
smiled at each other as she turned and got a bottle of water out of the
Styrofoam cooler in the back seat. 

"Jesus Jordi, your butt is so big now you have more crack than a dope
dealer." She turned and looked at me with her mouth wide open and her eyes
growing angrier by the second. "Hey, I'm just commenting on the obvious."

"Did you ever think I might be sensitive about how big I am right now?"

I started laughing, "I was just pulling your chain. I think it's hot. You
were always too skinny anyway. Now I have something to hang on to."

She opened the water and handed it to me so that I could have a drink. I
took a big gulp and then handed it back to her. "Where are we going to
switch drivers?"

I nodded and said, "I can drive. Where did you stop on the way down?"

"Near Indianapolis."

"That's quite a haul...what were you thinking?"

"I was just thinking that I was going to be forever linked to you by the
24 chromosomes that you donated to this child. I was thinking that I was
going to be washing your boxers for the rest of my life, watching you cut
your toenails, floss your teeth, snip your nose hairs, snore, gargle,
scratch your nuts, pick your teeth...you know the fun part of being
married, not to mention put up with your cutting wit, nocturnal piano
playing and sex after Baywatch. I guess this is love. Knowing that your
life is going to be made up of all these moments and not caring."

I thought about what she said and had to admit that I had similar
thoughts, "I know, I watched you use twenty kleenex the other day when you
had your allergies and I thought, I better buy stock in tissue paper. I
can't believe that any one person needs fifty lotions or as many tubes of
lipstick, all of which look like the same color to me. I watch you brush
your teeth and your tongue and I want to gag for you. And the fact that
under my bathroom sink are three types of feminine hygiene...tampons,
napkins and panty liners, makes me shake my head. And why does any woman
need four different hair brushes?" I looked at her and she was chuckling,
"You know though, I still look forward to coming home and seeing you in
the library or family room or scrounging through the refrigerator. I enjoy
watching you sleep or feeling you naked, even pregnant, against my body. I
love the smell of you, and not the smell when you get out of the shower,
but the smell after you've had a long day and the odor is all you. I love
when you bite your lip when you're trying to figure something out and I
love how I can feel you up anywhere and you just ignore me most of the
time."

She looked at me with the funniest expression. I asked her, "What?"

"Greg, we need to get a room."

"Ok, we'll get one when we get to Indianapolis."

"I'm not going to last that long."

"What, are you having contractions?"

"No, I mean, I want you right now...I have this incredible urge to nail
you. I don't want to wait until Indianapolis. Let's just get a room for a
few hours, take a nap and then we can keep going."

"Jordi, you want to pull over so we can have sex?"

"Yes, yes, yes. I want to have sex because you just said some of the
sexiest things in the world to me and because in a few days having sex
isn't going to be easy."

I thought about it and she was right. "You are really one strange woman."

"I've always loved having sex with you. You were my first and you'll be my
last and you'll be the best. Pull over damn it."

I found a Holiday Express and we rented a room. I didn't bother taking
anything out of the car but our toiletries. She barely got in the room and
she started taking her clothes off. Now, I love Jordi, but she's really,
really pregnant and there's only one way to make love to her comfortably
and that's doggy style. However, she wants to be on top. Unfortunately,
it's just not that conducive for me feeling frisky. When I see her big
round belly, it reminds me that my son is sitting right there. 

We were laying on the bed and I was about to tell her to turn over but she
started kissing me and then she slipped her hand in my boxers and used
that little feather touch she has and then the full on stroking, it's hard
to describe how delicious it is except to say that I get turned on just
thinking about it. She then licked and sucked and rubbed until I didn't
care if she was sitting on me, holding our son in her lap, I would have
given it to her any way she wanted it. What she can do with her mouth
should be illegal it was so addictive. After I came she took a kleenex and
cleaned up a little.

After I caught my breath I grabbed her spread her legs and went down on
her. I figured this would be the last time for awhile. I spent several
minutes getting her worked up and then she grabbed my hair and pulled me
up, "I need you in me now."

"Jordi, I can't do it from this angle, you'll have to turn over honey." 

She said, "No, lay back." I wasn't so sure that this would work. I laid
back and she climbed on me but she sat backwards so that it was her back I
saw. She mounted me and rode up and down squeezing and releasing,
squeezing and releasing, until I was thrusting hard and fast. She started
screaming, "Yes, that's it, oh yeah, ahhhhhhh." She came, I came again and
after that, there was no way I could drive for awhile. We collapsed and
took a nap. There are a few times in your life when you know you're really
happy and one of mine was in a Holiday Express outside of St. Louis
,Missouri.

Three hours later we got up, showered and she demanded that she drive, she
felt like it. We sang songs and talked about her current research which
was mind boggling and she asked me about my parents. At first I gave her
flippant answers but after awhile I told her some of the crap from my
childhood that had defined who I was. She was silent and thoughtful.

"Greg, I wonder what happened to your Dad that he thought he was being a
good father by doing that?"

"Oh, Grandpa was hard on him, it was not an easy relationship between
them. My Dad mellowed quite a bit as I got older, even tried to apologize,
but I'm not good on forgiveness. Jordi, I worry about Mike, do you think
I'll..." I couldn't finish it.

"Unlike your mother, I'll kick your ass to the curb if you do. Don't
worry, I love you and I won't let you do anything to screw up our
son...oh, every parent does something to screw up their kid, but I mean
major screwing. We have to give him an excuse to blame us for something."

I love her. I knew that there would be no fiercer protector of our child
than Jordi. She had a mind of her own and knew when to fight and when to
run. I knew that she wouldn't let me or my mouth hurt Mike.

I went to sleep and Jordi drove for most of the night until 2:30 a.m. and
then pulled over in Columbus, Ohio. 

I asked her, "Should we get a room?"

"Yeah, let's get one for a few hours and get some real sleep."

 ***

I was feeling really tired and thought I needed to relax and get a shower.
We got a room and went to sleep spooning and with Greg's right hand all
over my breasts. He cracks me up, just has to feel my breasts if there
anywhere around. Even when we don't have sex, he has to touch my body. I
just ignore it when I don't feel like sex and he gets the hint, usually.
He did tonight because he started snoring with his hand still cupped
around my breast. Men, what is it with them?

I slept well and we got up six hours later to continue the trek home. We
showered, ate a big breakfast at the Denny's next door, got gas and took
off for the last leg of the trip. We would be home before five p.m. if we
didn't stop too often. I went pee and then we left.

"What took you so long in the bathroom?" He asked suspiciously.

"Excuse me? I don't think I want to share that information. For God's sake
Greg, stop being so nosey." 

He laughed and we climbed in the car. He drove for four hours before we
stopped to stretch, get gas and grab a snack. 

"Do you want to drive for a few hours and then I can take us the rest of
the way into Princeton."

"Uh, do you really need for me to drive?"

He shook his head, "No, I can do it, why?"

"Well, when I went to the bathroom this morning I had the "show.'"

He went white and his expression was one of horror. "You're in labor and
you didn't tell me?"

"The contractions are light and spaced far apart, I'm not having Mike
today, probably tomorrow." I tried to sound convincing.

He looked at me like I was making fun of him, "Do you think I'm a moron?
Your contractions could pick up at any time. You will tell me if we need
to get you to a hospital, right?"

I nodded.

"Christ, our kid will probably be born in Pittsburgh or Philadelphia."

"He won't. I promise."

But I wasn't sure I could hold to that promise. I was grabbing the
dashboard just outside of Philly, screaming with each contraction and Greg
was getting more and more upset with me. He took out his cell phone,
called the obstetrician and told her what was going on. She calmed Greg
down and assured him that he could get me to PPTH in time, just keep
driving.

"Jordi, I am never going to forgive you for this. If I have to deliver
this baby in a Ford Escape I'll never let you live it down. You'll be
cooking my favorite meals for the rest of your life."

He should never talk trash to a woman in labor. I was right in the middle
of a contraction, "Fuck you...ahhggggg. Fuck you Gregory House...ahhhggg."

He was incredibly happy when he saw the PPTH sign and knew we had made it.
He pulled up in front of the emergency room and Wilson met us with the
wheelchair. House rolled me in while Wilson parked our car. I was met by
dozens of people who were congratulating us. I was trying not to scream as
we went through the corridors to the elevator. On the elevator I looked up
at Greg and saw how worried he was. It melted my heart.

When we got into the delivery room our obstetrician told him I was fully
efaced and dialated. The obstetrician looked up and said, "You two like
cutting it close don't you? We have a head here."

House his jerked his head back in disbelief and then ran to the other end
of the bed. "Jesus H. Christ Jordi, I can see the crown of Mike's head."

I was screaming, it was so painful. "Can't I have drugs...any drugs??"

Dr. Canepa said, "Nope, too late, this is going to be over in a few
minutes." 

House went over and washed his hands and face. He came back when the next
contraction hit. I screamed bloody murder and everyone gave each other big
smiles. House was smiling beaming.

"His head just popped out...one more push Jordi and we have a kid." House
reached up and took my hand. The contraction came but it didn't hurt as
much as the others. House had Mycroft in his hands and the obstetrican was
tying off the cord. Greg cut the cord and it was taken to be frozen. 

House held up a screaming Mycroft and gave him to the nurse to conduct the
APGAR scoring, clean his nose and mouth and swaddle him in a blanket. It
happened so fast, but within a few minutes I heard the doctor say, "A
lusty ten," meaning that Mycroft was healthy, very healthy.

House took the baby and brought him over to me. The first photo of us with
our son was taken and I nuzzled Mycroft who was trying to focus on this
blur of a mother. I don't know if Greg felt it, but I had forgotten all
about being swallowed up and focused on this tiny, helpless creature who
was looking up to us for all of his needs. I think House was feeling it
too because his eyes were glassy. It might have been from all that driving
but I think he was a little overwhelmed by it all.

Our son made the newspapers across the country, usually in the
entertainment sections. I didn't find giving birth that entertaining but
Greg did, he told everyone stories about it, most of which were
exaggerated. When we eventually left the hospital there were several
newspaper journalists and television cameras, including Entertainment
Tonight (which I found absurd) waiting for us. 

"Dr. House, can you describe your son for us?"

"He has a very large penis for a child his size."

They went silent and I got into the car while Greg put Mike in his
car-seat in the back. We drove home and started our life as parents, but
then that's a whole other story. The End  
   Please post a comment on this story.  


Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the
ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement
nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the
show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.