Just the three of us...

[dr_gregoryhouse]

Who: House, Wilson, Cuddy
Where: Wilson's apartment
What: Dinner
When: Thursday night, 6.20pm

Complete

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[dr_j_wilson]

Hearing the knock at the door, Wilson paused in what he was doing - cutting up some vegetables in the kitchen - and looked over at the clock on the microwave. If that was House, Wilson was going to be surprised, very surprised. He considered, for a moment, taking off the apron he was wearing. It wasn’t like it was a girly one - in fact, it was plain black, the kind professional chef’s wore. That wouldn’t stop House making a crack about it though, if it was him at the door.

Telling himself House’s gibes had never bothered him before so he wasn’t going to start worrying about them now, Wilson wiped his hands on a tea-towel and went to answer the door, blinking a few times to see that it was actually House.

Wilson raised an eyebrow at the comment, noting that something seemed a little forced in House’s tone. “If I wanted you to bring something, I’d spend a week trying to drum it into your obstinate head and even then I wouldn’t expect you to actually do it,” Wilson said, smiling slightly to take the edge off his words, and stepped aside so House could come in. Wilson noticed what House was wearing as he walked past, not surprised at the casual clothes. Wilson had dressed a little more formally in slacks and a dress shirt under the apron.

“Here,” Wilson said, and reached out to take House’s helmet from him. Their fingers brushed and Wilson met House’s eyes before, very hesitantly, leaning in to press a light, closed-mouth kiss on House’s lips. Wilson had resolved himself to keep the displays of affection out of the picture once Cuddy showed up, so figured he’d take what he could while he could. Pulling back, Wilson caught House’s eyes for a second before turning away to put House’s helmet away in the closet nearby.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"We understand each other, then," House dryly replied to Wilson's remark about bringing something along, eyeing Wilson's apron. Only Wilson would wear an apron, House thought to himself as he stepped into the apartment. He noticed the fact that Wilson was better dressed than House was, too. But House put that down to Wilson being a control freak about his appearance rather than the whole wanting to make a good impression thing. This was only supposed to be a casual dinner, or that was what House was led to believe. Hell, even if it wasn't a casual dinner, Wilson would've been hard pressed to get House into anything more than what House was already wearing.

He allowed Wilson to take the helmet and accepted the kiss with a faint smile, finding himself still feeling a little awkward about the random moments of affection he and Wilson shared. He pushed the awkwardness aside in favour of being relaxed and took to gazing around the apartment from where he was standing -- he'd only been here once before, and the situation with which he had, hadn't been the easiest of situations. It was just after the hooker incident and things had been so much more... uncertain then. House pushed that out of his mind; he didn't want to even think about that.

He turned his attention back to Wilson again, and pointedly eyed his apron. "Cute," he dryly remarked with a smirk on his face. "Very you. The only thing missing is a cheesy statement emblazened across the front. Something tacky like 'kiss the chef'."

[dr_j_wilson]

“Well, I was going to go for the fake breasts,” Wilson replied with a slight smirk, “but I was worried they might interfere with my ability to cook. I think they were double D’s - probably get in the way, you know.”

The small, circular dining table was already set up, with cutlery, napkins and condiments, but Wilson looked over at it just to make sure everything was there. This was a casual dinner, but Wilson still wanted it to be…well, nice, since it was a ‘thank-you’ to Cuddy.

“I’m making steak with mushroom sauce and there’s chocolate soufflé for desert,” Wilson said, walking back into the kitchen to resume the cooking. Most of it was already done so he wouldn’t have to be in the kitchen for long once Cuddy arrived. The last thing he wanted to do was force Cuddy and House to be alone together for an extended amount of time.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House gave an amused smile. He could feel the tension leaving his shoulders, thanks to how relaxed Wilson appeared. Had Wilson greeted him with any sense of apprehension or apparent anxiety, that likely would've put House on edge. Maybe it was because Wilson was cooking -- that seemed to be something that calmed Wilson, as though he was in his element, much the same way that playing the piano calmed House.

"I think I'd pay to see Cuddy's face with you donned in something like that," he replied, limping after Wilson to follow him into the kitchen. He figured he could sit in the living room and wait for Cuddy to arrive, but there was every bit the chance he'd get restless and start pacing Wilson's apartment.

Besides, there was probably beer in the fridge. Or, he hoped there was. He headed straight for Wilson's fridge and yanked the door open, and leaned over to peer inside. "Smells alright," he declared, even though the food actually smelled fantastic. He fetched a bottle out and then stood straight, and let the door close. He turned to watch Wilson at the stove, while House twisted the lid off, and he took a quick sip.

"Think Cuddy'll be on time?" he casually remarked, perhaps to try and gage how Wilson was actually feeling about the evening.

[dr_j_wilson]

“I would pay more money to see you donned in something like that,” Wilson said.

Grabbing three plates from a cupboard, Wilson set them out and starting dishing out the salad. He gave House a brief glance at the question. “She’s not you,” Wilson replied pointedly. “I’ll even bet you twenty dollars she’ll be here right on time,” he added, after looking at the clock again. That gave Cuddy another five minutes; that was okay, Wilson was pretty sure she’d be on time. The only question was whether House would bet the other way. It was probably a little childish, their continual bets, but there were always worse things they could be doing.

Wilson looked back at House again, wondering why House had asked in the first place, unless he was just making conversation. Or…House was wondering how he was feeling about Cuddy coming at all, regardless of what time. Wilson was actually feeling pretty relaxed about it. The only thing he had to worry about was whether House would be able to play nice or not, and he was refusing to worry about that. Another childish thing, maybe, because ignoring something - in this case, House’s… unpredictable relationship with Cuddy - wouldn’t make it go away. Wilson was going to try anyway.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"That would just be easy money for you," House replied. Because Wilson was probably right; Cuddy was probably going to be right on time. "There's no point in betting on something unless the odds are greater than two-to-one. And the odds are that Cuddy's going to knock on that door at any minute. With a bottle of wine, and possibly a whip."

He lifted his cane and set it down with a clunk onto one of the benches that didn't have food on it, and limped slowly across the kitchen. From what House could work out, he was correct in thinking that Wilson was more or less relaxed about this whole thing. Or putting on a really good performance of appearing relaxed, anyway.

House had to admit to himself -- ever since the sailing trip, he was feeling conflicting emotions. Not about Wilson as such, but more about what came about on the boat -- what they revealed to each other. On one hand, House felt an inexplicable sense of relief that he'd let go of some of the baggage he'd been carrying around, by telling Wilson how he felt about him. But on the other hand he still felt overwhelmed. He guessed this whole thing -- the entire love part of it -- was going to take some adjusting to.

He took a sip of his beer as he stretched his arm out and braced his hand against the edge of the bench, standing close to Wilson as he peered down at what Wilson was doing. Up this close he could smell Wilson's aftershave, rich and spicy scented. It was perhaps a little too overpowering for House's liking, particularly considering he wasn't at all partial to aftershave himself. He owned a bottle but he hardly ever used it.

Impulsively leaning in, House dropped a brief kiss to the back of Wilson's neck without letting himself think too much about it and then pulled back again. "Did you wash yourself with soap or aftershave?" he remarked sourly, pulling a face at the overpowering smell. "You smell like a walking deodourant stick."

Well, it wasn't really that bad. But that House was complaining, however pointlessly it was, at least showed that he'd relaxed.

[dr_l_cuddy]

Cuddy glanced at her watch as she pulled up in front of Wilson's apartment. She was relieved to see that she wasn't late. She'd gotten caught in heavy traffic on the way home from work, then wasted more time trying to decide what to wear. Pointless, probably, since she doubted either man would really care, but she'd fussed over it anyway. She finally settled on dark gray slacks and a red silk blouse; simple but not too casual. And no whip, though if she'd owned one she would've taken it to dinner just to see the look on House's face.

Cuddy grabbed her purse and the wine and locked her car. She noticed House's motorcycle with some surprise. It wasn't like him to be early, but House had been full of surprises lately. She supposed being early to dinner was actually one of the smaller ones, especially compared to the biggest surprise which was that he was in a romantic relationship with Wilson at all. Honestly, she sometimes wondered if Wilson was surprised by that, too.

As Cuddy approached Wilson's apartment, she took a deep breath and told herself to relax and enjoy the evening...and ignore House if necessary. Then she rapped sharply on the door.

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson raised an eyebrow at the ‘and possibly a whip’. He wrote it off fairly quickly though, since House had said stranger things in relation to Cuddy - especially in relation to her apparent evilness. “You only bet on things when you’ve rigged it in your favour,” Wilson complained.

In the middle of checking that the steak wasn’t going to burn before it was ready to eat, Wilson glanced at House warily when he walked over, prepared to defend the food if need be. The kiss to the back of his neck was too quick for Wilson to react at all, except for a surprised blink. He’d naturally assumed, from years of experience, that House getting into his space with food around meant House was going to try and steal it…not kiss him. Just another thing to adjust to, Wilson supposed. In this case it would be a pleasant change.

Just as he thought that, House had to ruin the moment by speaking. Wilson rolled his eyes over the dig at his aftershave, sure that House was exaggerating just to bug him. Or at least, he hoped so. Wilson sniffed experimentally, hoping House wouldn’t notice. He didn’t think it was that bad; most of what he could smell was the food.

“I think you just have overly sensitive olfactory cells,” Wilson said, giving House an exasperated look. He heard the knock on the door then and, reaching behind him, Wilson undid the apron where it was knotted at his back and slid it up over his head before hanging it up the hook next to the fridge. “Don’t forget this is supposed to be for Cuddy’s benefit,” Wilson said warningly with another glance at House and went to answer the door.

“Hi,” Wilson greeted Cuddy with a smile and moved aside to allow her to pass, “come in.”

[dr_gregoryhouse]

House instantly tensed up the moment he heard the knocking on the door. Any reply he was going to retort, just to get on Wilson's nerves more than anything, abruptly vanished from his mind and he was suddenly extremely aware of Cuddy's presence -- even though she wasn't in the apartment yet -- as though she was some kind of beacon.

So, it was all House could do to step back when Wilson started undoing the apron, and he took a quick, deep scull of his beer. The impatient-sounding, "Yeah, yeah," House gave in response to Wilson's remark about this being for Cuddy's benefit might've come across as House being flippant rather than him actually being filled with a sudden twist of nerves.

Because of that, House chose to hang back in the kitchen for a moment or two, watching Wilson open the door from where House was standing. But that was stupid -- did he intend on loitering out here for the whole night just because he was feeling apprehensive and insecure again? Yeah, right. As if Wilson would let him get away with that. As if House wanted to come across that way, too.

Reluctantly venturing forth, House limped across the kitchen and peered at Cuddy before he forced himself to then move out into the living room area; a little closer to the door. She looked nice. And perhaps a little apprehensive herself, unless House was just imagining it, but whether he was or wasn't he -- for some reason -- found it strangely reassuring. It made him feel less alone in his own apprehension, House supposed, considering how relaxed Wilson appeared.

"Hey," he greeted in a low voice. Deciding being his usual self would be the best way to stave off any unsettled feeling he had, he added as he eyed Cuddy's hands pointedly, "You're missing a whip. Damn. That would've been a good party trick, too."

[dr_l_cuddy]

"Hi," Cuddy said, giving Wilson a warm smile. She held out the bottle of wine for his approval. "I wasn't sure what you were planning to make, but I hope this will be suitable."

She wasn't terribly knowledgeable about wines so she'd enlisted the shop owner's help. He'd assured her that this a good quality merlot. She hoped he'd known what he was talking about, or at least knew more than Wilson. She doubted that Wilson would let on, though, even if he didn't like it. House, on the other hand....

Cuddy noticed House sort of...lurking on the other side of the room as she entered the apartment. She merely rolled her eyes at his greeting.

"Sorry. The whip's in the shop for rebraiding and oiling. Maybe next time?"

[dr_j_wilson]

“Great, thanks,” Wilson said, closing the door before taking the wine from Cuddy and turning it to read the label. He raised his eyebrows, a little surprised she’d chosen one of his favourites, and then looked back up at her, “Nice choice.”

Sensing House’s presence, Wilson glanced around and was about as impressed as Cuddy was over his greeting. House had at least said ‘hey’ though, Wilson relented. “What is…?” Wilson started to ask and then shook his head, holding up a hand, “On second thought, I’m sure I don’t want to know what the whip references mean.”

Taking a step away from the door, Wilson nodded towards the dining table, “The dinner’s all ready to go if you want to take a seat,” he said and started towards the kitchen. “Hope you like steak,” he added with another smile at Cuddy and went into the kitchen - though not without first giving House a look to indicate he should sit down with Cuddy while he got the food ready.

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"Cuddy's a Dominatrix, didn't you know?" House remarked, regarding the whip references, as Wilson passed him. He met Wilson's eyes when Wilson indicated for him to sit at the table, and followed him with his eyes until Wilson was in the kitchen before looking back to Cuddy again.

There was an awkward beat of silence. Being around Cuddy at work was one thing; being around her, in Wilson's apartment and knowing what she knew about them was something else entirely. And he wasn't too good at the whole socialising thing -- he'd never really hung out with Cuddy outside of work situations, so socialising with Cuddy seemed something of a foreign concept. But he'd been made to promise that he would behave himself, so he had to make some kind of effort beyond being a smartass. And he actually wanted to make some kind of effort because he'd wanted Cuddy around for this meal as much as Wilson did, really.

Being he'd left his cane lying on the bench in the kitchen, House had to limp unaided as he took a few steps towards Cuddy. "I see you didn't come with any beer, either," he remarked. He gestured his bottle at Cuddy, adding, "Guess it's a good thing Wilson keeps himself supplied."

He glanced back at the kitchen, thinking he was going to have to make a bit of a better effort than that. Wilson wouldn't be too impressed if he poked jibes at Cuddy for the entire night. And poking jibes at her would kind of defeat the entire purpose of showing her any measure of gratitude. Damn geniality. What did women like to hear? Compliments? House wasn't any good at those.

Still. He wanted the night to get off on the right foot, at least, and him being a smartass wasn't going to guarantee that. He looked back to Cuddy again, and took a few more limped steps towards her as he quickly glanced down at her clothes.

Gesturing his beer towards her again, he began, "You... look..." He gave another gesture towards Cuddy with his beer as though she was supposed to catch on to what he was trying to say.

"Nice," he finished, thinking how lame and awkward that sounded. Well, at least he tried?

[dr_l_cuddy]

Cuddy completely ignored House's dominatrix crack, but it didn't bother her. She knew Wilson knew better than to believe half of what House said about her.

"Steak sounds good. And it smells wonderful," Cuddy told Wilson. She noted the look he gave House as he went into the kitchen, which amused her. Poor House was going to have long evening of it if he had to play nice the whole time. It would be interesting to see just how long he could keep it up, because she would've bet that there was no way House wouldn't revert to his usual sarcasm. She was tempted to provoke him, just to see how hard he was willing to try, but she'd promised to behave, too, and she wasn't interested in getting on Wilson's bad side any more than House was.

"Thank you. You don't look half bad either," Cuddy said in response to House's compliment. Well, that was true. Cuddy only objected to House's manner of dress from a professional point of view; he didn't look like a doctor. But away from work, well, House had his own unique style and it worked for him.

"Told you I wasn't going to bring beer," Cuddy added as she walked past House and seated herself at the table. She looked at the bottle House was holding and shuddered. "I don't know how you drink that stuff. I never could develop a taste for it."

[dr_gregoryhouse]

"Nobody who drinks beer likes the taste of it," House replied, taking a few steps towards the table. "It's a social drink. You drink it because it makes you look social, regardless as to whether you're being social or not."

He glanced back at the kitchen again to see how long Wilson was going to be. How long was he going to have to keep up the nicety? Just how nice was he supposed to be? House contemplated going out into the kitchen to fetch his cane just as an excuse to not have to sit at the table and socialise without the aid of someone else to do the socialising for him.

But... Wilson was pretty much expecting him to sit at the table and while House didn't generally do what was expected of him... He scratched his head and awkwardly sat down on the chair so he was sitting adjacent to Cuddy, and he glanced at her again.

"It's a guy thing," he continued, just for conversation's sake as he started toying with his bottle of beer. "Like you women and how you have to go to the bathroom in hordes. Total girl thing that makes no sense to me whatsoever. It's like some kind of primitive bonding ritual over peeing."

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson might have been feeling relatively relaxed, but he also wasn’t stupid. He knew that leaving House and Cuddy together for too long would be just asking for trouble. He dished out the steaks onto the three plates and then opened the bottle of wine Cuddy had brought. Walking back out with two of the plates to hear House saying something about peeing was unexpected but not all that surprising.

Giving them both a raised eyebrow, Wilson set the plates down in front of House and Cuddy. “Dinner is served,” he said, though that was obviously redundant. Going back into the kitchen, Wilson got his own plate, the bottle of wine and also House’s cane. How or why House was limping around without it, Wilson didn’t know, but he figured he’d keep it nearby just in case. Wilson propped the cane against the wall behind House before setting his plate down and pouring the wine into his and Cuddy’s glass - he presumed House wouldn’t want any.

“Hopefully it’s okay. I’ve never made the mushroom sauce before,” Wilson said, betraying a small amount of insecurity. He sat down before picking up his glass and looking between House and Cuddy. “How about a toast to…” Wilson trailed off, a variety of things coming to mind but he wasn’t sure about actually saying any of them out loud. Friends? Happiness? Good food? Less patients?

[dr_l_cuddy]

"Bonding, yes. But it's got nothing to do with pee. We just need someplace to talk without the men around, so we can discuss which ones are hot and which ones are creepy and which one we're calling dibs on," Cuddy said after Wilson had set the plates on the table and returned to the kitchen. It was a good thing Wilson knew them well, otherwise he might wonder what he'd gotten himself into, what with accusations of whips and peeing flying around.

"It's also about safety in numbers," Cuddy added. "You wouldn't believe the number of times I've been groped simply walking to the bathroom in a bar."

It didn't happen as often now. She didn't know whether that was because she went to higher class establishments now than when she was in college, or because she was past the 'gropable' age. Either way, it was just as well. As much as she liked looking good...sexy, nothing pissed her off faster than someone taking uninvited liberties with her body.

"Or maybe you would believe it," Cuddy said. She fixed a mildly accusatory look on House. "You were probably one of the gropers."

Having fired off that mild zinger, Cuddy sat back and waited as Wilson poured the wine. She raised her glass as he began a toast, but was puzzled when his voice trailed off. Then she thought maybe she understood when she tried to fill in the blank. Just what was an appropriate sentiment for the three of them?

"How about...to good cooks," Cuddy said, tilting her wine glass toward Wilson. Then she included House by giving him a small nod. "And to unique friendships."