[She has more thoughts about this and about sex, here, in particular, but she doesn't really feel the need to share them. If he can't find ways to make it work, that's his own problem, really.]
The only people who call me Gregory are telemarketers, assholes, and my parents when I've been extra naughty. It's House. Unless we sleep together. Then you can call me Greg.
[For a split second, he looks momentarily confused, taken aback. But her eye-roll settles House back into familiar, comfortable territory. He just shrugs.]
Yep. And, well... don't tell anyone.
[He glances to either side and bites his lip as he leans in theatrically.]
[He shrugs, and in a rare moment of honesty, offers something a little more.]
I almost married my ex. She shot me at a paintball game--doctors vs. lawyers. Took her on a date after. Some seafood joint that had the worst service in Jersey. She was pissed, I was pissed, the restaurant was pissed when I stood up on a chair and told everyone I was from the County Health Inspector's Office and basically everything except the tilapia had tested positive for salmonella.
They threw us out after that. She moved in a week later. Five years.
[At least, it makes Claire laugh. She was wondering why she was even trying; but here it is, for moments like this, where he's sincere. She looks down at her hands.]
You might actually have healthier relationships than me. I broke up with my ex because he was a vigilante.
She made a decision against my wishes that crippled me, and I drove her away. While I was in the middle of rehab. [House pulls his lips tight and shrugs.]
You win the healthier relationships run. As long as you don't actually go anywhere with me.
So she's responsible? For your leg? [She read enough about the Vicodin incident(s) to know that he had a bum leg. And also that he was still an addict.]
If you really are curious, because of my ex, I was kidnapped and nearly beaten to death by the Russian mafia. I'm still sometimes suffering from vertigo due to the concussion I had. But it's not a competition; I still have all my limbs intact.
[She shrugs, a smile on her lips.]
It seems to me like you're kind of a magnet for trouble. Going anywhere with you would be ill-advised.
Never trust a ruskie. That's what I always say. This Winter chick? Totally a commie bastard. Her server box is probably just covered with the sickle and star.
So, why'd you actually come here? If I'm so much trouble.
[She doesn't miss the way he ignores her question, but lets it go. No reason to turn the conversation sour right now, is there? They've got to spend this whole night in the same place, might as well try and make it somewhat enjoyable.
As enjoyable as Norfinbury can be, of course.]
Maybe I like trouble? Life would be so boring without it. Also, there's a 90% chance you would need some patching up, even if you didn't say anything.
Are you kidding? I bitch and whine when I'm hurt. [More or less.] I'm not like some of the other idiots around here. [Except in that he actually gets hurt.]
Anyway, I've got a decent medkit going. Strange was supposed to deliver some of my supplies to you. Did he?
But you also bitch and whine when you're not hurt, Dr House, so it's hard to tell when you actually need help. [ #notallmen. As if. ]
And you tend to get yourself into more dangerous situations than most people around here, which is a feat in itself, I guess. I guess I understand why, to an extent - the scientific part, anyway. Why you feel the need to push people you know full well could kill you, well... I imagine you're simply a masochist.
[ She nods, patting her backpack before returning her hand to her cup of coffee. Feeling warmth is a luxury she's not going to waste. ]
He did. I used some of it to patch him up, too. The two of you make a right pair.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[She has more thoughts about this and about sex, here, in particular, but she doesn't really feel the need to share them. If he can't find ways to make it work, that's his own problem, really.]
Why would you want to date me?
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[He's a dumb boy sometimes, Claire. Did you really expect something more complex?]
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[She's teasing, but she smiles anyway.]
So, go on. Tell me about yourself.
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I was born in a log cabin in Iowa.
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You sure know how to charm a lady with your delightful stories, Dr House. Or should I call you Gregory at this point?
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[Such incentive!]
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[She makes a face at him, then rolls her eyes.]
What do you get from making people run in circles when you speak to them, House? It is really just for entertainment value?
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Yep. And, well... don't tell anyone.
[He glances to either side and bites his lip as he leans in theatrically.]
I'm also just a huge fan of circles.
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I'm more of a triangle girl. I guess I'm edgier than you.
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Guess that makes you a cute one.
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Wow, we're nerds. And don't try to even pretend you're not as bad as me, here!
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Can we move past the bullshit smalltalk and onto more interesting things, now that we've established the nerd cred goes both ways?
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What do you want to know? You must have something in mind, otherwise you'd keep on going just for a chance to insult me, or people I like.
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With that kind of irresistible charm? I'm a sure thing.
[She sobers up after a moment, putting a hand to her mouth as she catches her breath.]
Does this strange mix of insults and bluntness ever work for you? Really?
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I almost married my ex. She shot me at a paintball game--doctors vs. lawyers. Took her on a date after. Some seafood joint that had the worst service in Jersey. She was pissed, I was pissed, the restaurant was pissed when I stood up on a chair and told everyone I was from the County Health Inspector's Office and basically everything except the tilapia had tested positive for salmonella.
They threw us out after that. She moved in a week later. Five years.
i'm so sorry about the delay OTL
[At least, it makes Claire laugh. She was wondering why she was even trying; but here it is, for moments like this, where he's sincere. She looks down at her hands.]
You might actually have healthier relationships than me. I broke up with my ex because he was a vigilante.
[She gives him a look, smiling.]
I sure know how to pick 'em.
No worries!
You win the healthier relationships run. As long as you don't actually go anywhere with me.
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If you really are curious, because of my ex, I was kidnapped and nearly beaten to death by the Russian mafia. I'm still sometimes suffering from vertigo due to the concussion I had. But it's not a competition; I still have all my limbs intact.
[She shrugs, a smile on her lips.]
It seems to me like you're kind of a magnet for trouble. Going anywhere with you would be ill-advised.
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Never trust a ruskie. That's what I always say. This Winter chick? Totally a commie bastard. Her server box is probably just covered with the sickle and star.
So, why'd you actually come here? If I'm so much trouble.
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As enjoyable as Norfinbury can be, of course.]
Maybe I like trouble? Life would be so boring without it. Also, there's a 90% chance you would need some patching up, even if you didn't say anything.
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Anyway, I've got a decent medkit going. Strange was supposed to deliver some of my supplies to you. Did he?
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And you tend to get yourself into more dangerous situations than most people around here, which is a feat in itself, I guess. I guess I understand why, to an extent - the scientific part, anyway. Why you feel the need to push people you know full well could kill you, well... I imagine you're simply a masochist.
[ She nods, patting her backpack before returning her hand to her cup of coffee. Feeling warmth is a luxury she's not going to waste. ]
He did. I used some of it to patch him up, too. The two of you make a right pair.
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