(Untitled)

[misanthrope_md]

The last time House had gotten drunk at the Winchester he'd ended up taking home a hot girl with good intentions but a serious lack of follow-through. This time it wasn't because he was expecting similar results, but rather for the simplest reason of all: His leg hurt

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[lastof_five]

Helen was on her way to pick up something from her hut when she passed by the Winchester and, along the way, Greg. He seemed...disoriented, somehow, and Helen frowned a bit as she drew closer.

"Greg? Is everything all right? You don't need me for anything, do you?"

She didn't believe he'd admit needing help, he was stubborn, but she had to offer.

[misanthrope_md]

House looked away from her, up to the ceiling again. "Sorry. I was flippant about my own damage, not yours." Nope, didn't answer the question.

[lastof_five]

"It's quite all right. I'm very sensitive about John," Helen said, leaning over and kissing his cheek lightly. It was impulsive and likely stupid but she felt bad for jumping to conclusions.

"It's a shame, though. Everyone deserves to be happy, Greg. Even you."

[misanthrope_md]

He was drunk, and she was being nice to him, and he felt like maybe he should confess something too. Or open up the smallest bit.

Not about his father.

"I lived with a woman for five years back in Princeton," said House. "You remind me a little of her. Smart. Dark hair. Nice rack. Didn't put up with my shit."

[lastof_five]

"Oh, sounds like you do have a type," Helen teased lightly. "Was she English? Might as well aim for the Triple Crown while we're at it."

She sobered slightly. "What happened, then?"

[misanthrope_md]

"Nah," said House. "She was from Mississippi."

He shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling. "My leg got fucked up, and I blamed her, and I turned into an asshole."

[lastof_five]

"Ah, I see. Any type of injury is bound to be hard on a person...was there a particular thing she did that made you blame her or was it just misdirected anger?"

Helen was curious about the injury itself but she kept that tamped down. If he wanted to tell her, he'd tell her.

[misanthrope_md]

"She went behind my back and acted as my proxy while I was in a medically-induced coma, made a decision about a surgery she knew I didn't want."

He paused. "She saved my life. I didn't care."

[lastof_five]

"She changed your life outside your control. It's understandable enough that would strain things," Helen countered. She tipped her head toward the bad leg.

"The offer of a massage is still open. Since you're drunk, I might be able to work a few of the worst knots out while you don't feel as much pain."

[misanthrope_md]

House sighed, like he was reluctant. He closed his eyes. "Please."

[lastof_five]

Helen nodded and shifted down the bed to settle between his legs. Without a massage table, it was awkward to stand. She touched lightly at his waistband.

"Need your trousers off. Do you want to do it or is it easier for you if I do?" She liked to be cautious in this as he was technically a patient.

[misanthrope_md]

House fumbled with the zipper on his pants, managed to get them unfastened at least, but then gave up. He waved vaguely at them.

"By the way," he reminded her, "I'm drunk. I cannot be held responsible for any inappropriate physiological responses."

[lastof_five]

"Hardly a problem," Helen said, waving that off and tugging his trousers down the rest of the way before touching her hands to his thigh. She pressed her thumbs lightly into one of the knots, trying to work it out.

"I'll try to keep my delicate Victorian sensibilities in check. Who did this for you before I turned up?"

[misanthrope_md]

House gave a sharp intake of breath at that first touch, but then relaxed.

"Impressive physiological response," he corrected himself.

And then said, "Before you? No one for a long time, I guess. Other Helen, sometimes. When did Cameron disappear? I don't know. You know any other masseuses in case I need a backup?"

[lastof_five]

"I prefer a man who wants to please me over anything...impressive," Helen said, smirking a little and tipping her head down so she could focus on the massage and not hitting any areas that were too sensitive.

"I suppose Alcuin might be a good backup. I think he has training."

[misanthrope_md]

"Yeah, well you should tell your friend Kate that, to appreciate a man who wants to please."

Though at her suggestion, his eyes shot open again. "Are you fucking with me? Like I'd let that brat anywhere near me. Though you're right about the training, I hear he's very good."