A/N: The last chapter. -sob- Special thanks to Caerulea and AnonyMiss731. You guys are the best!
A person like me needs a thick skin to get by in a sometimes less-than-forgiving world, and my wives will not be forgiving me anytime soon. Keep in mind I hardly expect them to, especially after some of the shit I pulled and tried -unsuccessfully- to pull. If my ex-wives could see me now I'm sure they would have more than a few things to say. Good luck with your new life wouldn't be one of them, but that's okay. I hardly need their permission to move on. And they aren't exactly burning up the telephones to ask for mine.
"What did I get myself into?" I wondered aloud while leaning into the wall of the corridor outside Greg's office. Everything seemed to glow harshly under the fluorescent lights today, giving me a headache. Greg stood beside me, leaning on his cane and waiting a bit impatiently for his page to be answered.
"Didn't you say that the first time you fell into my bed?" Greg leered in my direction. "Oh wait, it wasn't that. I remember now, you said 'Oh God, Greg, do that again'. Actually, you were screaming that at the top of your lungs, not that I could blame you. I'm just that good."
"Keep your voice down, for crying out loud. Someone might hear you. Do you mind?"
"No, I don't. I didn't think you really minded getting laid, but I'm not an uptight oncologist."
"You're just a crabby diagnostician with a bum leg."
"Talk like that again and you're sleeping on the floor tonight."
"I like the bed. It's our bed now, remember?" I said, desperately trying to change the subject.
"Not quite yet, Dr. Wilson. All in good time."
"Is she even here yet?"
"She's always here. The hospital is her baby and nobody else is allowed to babysit. Besides, we walked right by her car. Is your short-term memory on the fritz again? Are you having a relapse? Do I need to get you some more big blue pills?"
The memory of those horrid blue anti-viral pills made my throat close up. "No thanks." The hospital was still relatively quiet in the early morning hours. It was just me and Greg in the corridor. "She's ignoring you. Page her again."
"She knows better than to ignore me. Who knows what I'm capable of doing when she's not looking over my shoulder," he said with a wicked grin.
"Isn't that the truth," I muttered under my breath just as Cuddy rounded the corner and marched up to us.
"Do you have a real reason to page me, Dr. House, or do you just want to have a look at my funbags before you start clinic duty?" Her eyes were narrowed as if in anger, but the tiny smirk across her mouth gave away her real mood.
"I would never do such a thing," he answered with badly feigned shock while looking down her blouse. "But now that you mention it--"
"What do you want, House?"
"World peace and weekends off."
"That's not going to happen anytime soon. Anything else? How about you, Dr. Wilson? Don't even think about asking for weekends off."
"Nothing for me. I'm fine," I told her with what I hoped was a convincing smile.
"At least someone is," Cuddy sighed, her patience growing thin. "Do you need anything or are you just wasting my time for the hell of it?"
"For the record, I'm not wasting your time, Dr. Cuddy," I said, only realizing how lame it sounded after I said it. I need to rehearse these things better. "I'll see you two later." With that, I pulled Greg into a sloppy wet kiss, then stalked off towards my office.
"Thank you for the show, boys," Cuddy said. That stopped me dead in my tracks. I turned around to see hergrinning from ear to ear. "Who won the bet?"
"It wasn't a bet, it was a favor," Greg informed her as if she really cared a toss or not. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck and rushing into my face. Greg plastered on the apathetic face that was usually reserved for whiny soccer moms and their screaming demon spawn.
"But it was House's idea," she noted with ever growing amusement. Her anger at having her time wasted was forgotten for the moment. She was too busy enjoying our little show. Maybe we'd buy her dinner, too. "That's quite a favor."
"Jimmy's quite a guy," he said, the apathy broken by that self-satisfied grin. The man could be a real attention-whore when the mood struck.
"Met your match, Dr. House?" Cuddy asked.
He answered, "That's one way to put it."
"I can only hope for your sake you get something out of this, Dr. Wilson," she said, looking directly into my eyes with a combination of interest and questioning.
"I am," I told her.
"What is it?" she asked, really wanting to hear what I had to say.
My answer was simple: "Everything."