milliways_bar | (no subject)

Logan knows that look - the high one, the nearly out one. He's felt it on his own face too many times not to, and seen it on ~~the face of his father~~ the faces of others, as well.

He just watches, for the moment, though he debates the wisdom of trying to cadge a drink off this fellow.

House felt he was being watched.

He glanced over.

"Want a ring?" He held the plate toward the guy.

Logan never turns down food. Never. "Abso-freakin'-lutely," he says, walking over. He takes a seat across from the stranger, grabs some of the greasy goodness, and offers a charming smile. "Logan Echolls, of Neptune, California, Earth, 2005, and not dead yet. You?"

"Dr gregory House. Youc an call me House. Princeton-Plainsboro, New Jersey, 2005. Bousnd, but not dead yet. Who's president in your world? I've met people here from the United States, a huge black guy who was president."

Logan raises his eyebrows. "Black dude, huh? Guess that's no more startling than the Governator, really, but seems highly improbable to me. We just misunderestimated George W. Bush and re-elected him again."

Logan doesn't care much for politics, but he's always found Bush's malapropisms amusing.

"Seems we're from the same universe then. Pleasure to meet you, Logan."

"Most definitely," Logan says. "More or less the same, anyway. You don't have a really bad, really famous actor named Aaron Echolls in yours, do you?"

It's best to get this over with, to see if Veronica's found out the truth and his life as he knows it is over in Neptune. It might be. It might not.

Of course, he could also be dead.

House thought on the name. He knew quite a lot about celebrities and such. But not that one.

"Nope. Don't know the name."

Logan grins. "Lucky," he said. "It's bad enough you got stuck with the Governator, too. You don't need my dad on top of it all."

He snags another onion ring. "How long've you been here, doc?"

"Two and a half months, give or take. Long enough to get addicted to the milkshakes. You?"

OOC: WOuld you mind terribly if we slowtime? I'm about to crash.

"About a week," Logan said. "Long enough to learn that the bar knows all about really good tequila."

((OOC: Not at all, I've got to take an online test.))

House nodded. "Really? I'm more of a scotch and whiskey kind of guy."

OOC: Thanks! I was half dead last night.

"Good whiskey, too," Logan says. "I haven't tried the scotch." Beat. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in ordering one for me? The Bar is apparently a law-abiding, God-fearing citizen."

House laughs. "When I first found myslef in this crazy place, I tried to buy a drink for a ten year old kid. He's full grown now, but that's beside the point." He leans in closer. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," Logan says warily. "Old enough to drink nearly everywhere but the good old U.S. of A."

He's intrigued in spite of himself. "A ten-year-old? Who's an adult now? You got some 'splainin' to do, Lucy."

"Po. Apopros. He was a kid, used crutches. I think he sought me out because of my cane. He gave me this one," he gestures at his intricate dragon head cane. "When he came back. Anyway, after that first night, I didn't see the kid. Next thing I know, he's a full grown man. I think the term is Millitime? He left the bar, lived out a few years, and got sucked back in. Only a couple weeks here in the bar. Very odd. Don't ask me t explain that, I'm still trying to puzzle it out."

House took hold of the cane. "What are you planning to drink tonight, Logan?"

"Whiskey," he says promptly. It's usually whiskey, unless Lilly's around. Lilly makes every day a tequila day.

"Millitime," Logan says. "That's a new term - care to explain it, at least?"

"After I get the drinks."

House went to the bar, ordered the whiskey and a water for himself. Both appeared, along with a handy drink carrier for him since, well, he needs one hand on the cane.

He made his way back to Logan.

"Okay. So. Millitime. I don't know. It defies all time and space, but the very existance of this bar defies all we know about it anyway. I'm bound, can't leave. but I hear if you leave you drop right back into your life right where you left it. Assuming you're alive, and the bar can pull you back anytime."

Millitime requires alcohol, Logan finds. He takes a drink.

"Good timing on the drink," he says. "Millitime sounds sort of...stretchy. Not a lot of restrictions there."

"Yeah. It's...a lot." Even for a mind as sharp and quizzical as his. There was a lot about the bar he didn't. couldn't, understand.

Logan drains his glass, grins. "Well, thanks for the lesson, doc. I'll be moseyin' on now, but it was fun."

House looks pointedly at the glass. "Anytime, kid. See ya around."

There is a very happy Allison. She isn't really skipping but feel free to see what you want. "I just thought you should know that a concensus of the people I've met here think it's probably your fault I am stuck here." She smiles. "And how are you today?" She means that last part, but again judgment may vary.

He blinked up ather, caught off guard for a moment.

"And just what have you been telling these people who populate your concensus?"

"The truth. And I'm incline to agree with them." She smiles. "It would explain nothing, but I'd have someone to blame. "

He cocked an eyebrow at her. Wasn't much he could say to that.

"Onion ring?" He held the plate out. He'd eaten a couple, not many.

She just grins.

"Sure, why not." she grabs one from the plate. "You ate some, good."

"I've been eating. I had...a banana this afternoon. And orange juice."

He shrugs. "I've got two Vicodin left. I'm thinking about not asking Bar to refill it."

"That's good. "

She thinks for a second. "Would she refill it? You sure about this I mean... If you need anything I'm here."

"I was due for a refill June 9. But because of that week I was off the pills, I had extra."

He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I want it. I crave it. But...I'm ready to admit I'm addicted. And I don't think Bar's gonna let me leave until I break that addiction. I can't do it gradually. I know I can't. It's all or nothing. And it's gonna be hell. You up for that?"

she nods "I want to help. No, I I have no idea if I can handle it. But, I'm never going to unless I do it. I know it's going to be hell. " she shrugs. "You can't do this alone."

"I don't want to be a god damn addict my whole life." House muttered, more to himself than to her.

"I don't know if I can handle it either. That week, that stupid bet with Cuddy nearly killed me. Nothing else has ever worked, but you know what? The Vicodin doesn't work either. It masks the pain, that's all."

He sighed. "Now I sound like a whimpering clinic patient."

she nods.

"I remember. If you really wann be rid of it though, you don't have much choice."

"No, you know something's wrong and you are trying to do something about it. and you're telling the truth and you're being human. It happens."

"What? I'm acting human?" He brought a hand to his heart, acting wounded, feigning shock. "Say it isn't so."

He let his hand fall, he flipped an onion ring on the plate. "From the moment I got here and realised what was going on, I've had a feeling I'm not going anywhere until I break this addiction. I thought...when Rhalen did what he did, I don't even know what he did, and then he left and I needed the Vicodin more than ever, but I was looking after Jasin and Behrooz, and I didn't really have much time to think about it. It felt damn good not to be a slave to those pills, to wander around and not wonder how many I had left, if it would be enough, if it was too soon to swallow another one."

"You know some people like being human." she grins.

You shoudn't have to be a slave to it. That isn't fair to you. You know there are other factors though. I hate to sound like a doctor here since I am mch better at being a human and the human part of me is saying 'If you want to stop no matter what that means, I'm here to help.'" she sighs

"It means you move into my room for a few days. Or weeks and clean up after me because I can't do it myself." House snapped, his tone meant to cut her off, make her reconsider. Because he couldn't do it alone, and if she couldn't commit completely, he probably couldn't do it at all.

He drew the bottle out of his pocket. Two pills. Bar would give him more, if he asked. Probably less than before, and still meant to get him through a month. But he didn't want to ween himself off. He was an all or nothing guy. If he's going to do it, he's going to do it.

"Fine, what makes you think I couldn't do that? iIt's nothing I haven't done before, even if the circumstances were different. I could even treat you as a patient if that's what you want. I'm not incapable of it besides maybe helping you with this will ween me off of liking you. That's what you want anyway. If you just believe in me or a little bit I might actually be able to help you. I know that's a stretch for you." she just gives up. "If you want me to help, I'm in, all the way. I can be professional."

"That's not..." He closed his eyes, rubbed a hand ove rhis face.

"I trust you, Allison. I wouldn't...If we do this, you're going to see a side of me...No one but Wilson has seen for a very long time. It's going to be ugly. And it's going to be hard. Itr's going to be hard fr me to remember that I trust you nce the cravings kick in and..."

He brought his cane up to his head. "What the fuck am I doing? I can't do this. Forget it. Deal's off."

"Deal's off? What deal? I just want to help. And I can. You're more of an asshole than I thought if you won't let me. I'm bound anyway so I'd be here whenever you needed me. All I care about is that you get what you want, find someone to help you. If you want to kick it then you should. " she smiles.

"I'm not doing it. It's stupid. I was stupid to even think it." He draws the bottle out of his pocket. It's too early for another dose, but he'd double dosed plenty of times. Sometimes triple.

He uncapped it, poured both pills into his hand.

"Well, it was a smarter idea than getting fed up and taking the pills anyway. You don't need them right now anyway. You just can't think of anything else to do, so just put em back in the bottle. Or better yet give them to me. " she holds out her hand. "I don't think overdosing yourself is gonna make you feel any better. And you know I'm right. Masking something doesn't make it better."

He glared at her for a moment.

"It would take a hell of a lot more than two pills if I wanted to overdose." A lot more than two.

He looked down, as if studying the pills in his hand.

"Fuck. Take the god damn things." He dropped them into her open palm. "But don't blame me if I tear you apart looking for them later."

"I know that, but the prescribed dose isn't 'as many as you want, whenever you feel like it', either." She glares right back at him and clenches the pills in her hand.

"Maybe I should take them, then you have nothing to look for and if you tore me apart it wouldn't matter. Oh, that's right, I don't need them. And the way you've been ogoing they aren't what you need either. "

"Don't mock me, Allison. You have no idea what this is like." He gestured almost violently at his leg. Of course she knew more than most how it affected him because she worked closely with him. She'd seen the shadow of pain cross his face more times than he could count. She'd seen how difficult getting up and down was at the end of the day, no matter how much Vicodin he swallowed.

"And we both know you'd be on the floor if you swallowed both those pills. And I'm not mobile enough to get doen on my knees to help you."

"No, I haven't lived with it, but you, I know what you're like. That's all that matters." she grins slightly.

"I know that, I haven't built up the tolerance to it like you have." she wasn't mocking, just a point of fact.

"Whatever. Get rid of those pills before I claw your eyes out. Ton'y sbartending tonight (http://www.livejournal.com/community/milliways_bar/5664441.html) and I want to talk to him. You might want to mov eyour stuff to my room. The fun'll start in about three hours."