A Long Awaited Choice
There are some choices that are very easily made: what color shirt to wear, what to have for dinner, what movie to rent on pay-per-view. Whether or not to ask out your boss is not one of the easier choices. House debated for a long while, was brow beaten by his best friend and weighed the options even more before coming to his decision. After taking a deep breath the head of diagnostic medicine walked out of his office and down the hall, pressed the button for the elevator and debated even more as he impatiently awaited the arrival of the metal box.
The ride down to the ground floor was painfully slow and House hated himself for even considering asking Cuddy out, but the voice of James Wilson, boy wonder kept playing over in his head telling him to do it or he would never be able to live with himself. House very much doubted that he would lose the ability to function if he failed to ask Cuddy out to dinner, but he knew that the oncologist wouldn't let him forget the fact that he had lost his nerve. The idea of Wilson crowing on about House being shy was too much for him to handle thinking about and that, more than the fact that he could quite possibly develop a relationship and a connection with someone other than Wilson, inspired House to push himself out of the elevator and in the direction of the office of the Dean of Medicine.
He leaned heavily on his cane, the added stress of anticipation making him favor his right side even more than normal. He opened the door to the outer office and was relieved when he found that Cuddy's assistant was taking a coffee break. He saw her through the glass, on the phone and just watched her for a moment. Her dark hair framed her face, pulled half back into a beret today, one loose curl falling gently over her forehead. She swept it away behind her ear as she finished her phone call and hung up the receiver.
He entered the office before she realized that he was watching her from outside the door. She looked up and a worry line formed on her forehead when he entered the room. "What do you need?" she asked, looking back down at the stack of paper work on the desk in front of her. "Please don't tell me your patient needs invasive surgery. Foreman just dropped by to let me know that the treatment for the poison was working."
"Nah. The trucker is just peachy. He should be out of here by Monday," House told her. She looked back up at him and he tried not to squirm under her gaze. His heart picked up a bit and he told himself that it was simply because he was under a bit of pressure. "I came for your company," he told her simply.
"You just want to hang out?" she asked skeptically. "No crazy requests, no pranks?"
"I am capable of that," he replied a bit on the sarcastic side. "Of course the brain surgery would be much more fascinating than chicken cordon bleu…"
"Wait," she shook her head, trying to decipher House's statement. "Are you asking me out?" She looked at him curiously, mostly confused, but with a hint of something House suspected to be interest.
"No. I came to stare at your breasts, but as you wore a proper shirt, I had hoped to lure you away from the office to a restaurant where you would be more likely to show off the twins so I could get a good look." He turned and was about to leave when she gave him pause.
"Where do you want to go?" she asked as he put his hand on the door handle.
He turned around slowly and looked her over. "You want to go?"
"I have to eat too, you know," she said, arching one eyebrow. "Might as well try to con you into doing a few extra clinic hours this week in the process."
"I'm not going if you'd just be sleeping with me to get my pants into an exam room," he told her.
"Pick me up tomorrow night at 7?" she asked.
"Alright." He turned the door handle and walked out, breathing a little more easily now that he had gone through the motions and had secured a meal in the company of the woman with whom he had been secretly enamored for the past twenty odd years. He picked up the coffee a nurse had just set down on the counter while she checked a patient file and walked back to the elevator, intent on going back to Wilson's office to gloat about his accomplishment.
"She totally wants me," House said, walking into his friend's office unceremoniously. He set his cane down on top of the desk and sat down, propping his feet up next to his cane. Wilson looked him over happily.
"Well even though you're only telling me so I don't bust your balls, I'm happy for you."
"You'd never bust my balls," House said, "You couldn't get near the family jewels and even if it were possible to get past the security you know these puppies are way more valuable than you're willing to throw away."
Wilson snorted. "You're too modest. I don't think anyone would believe in your sheer glory unless you crowed a bit louder."
"Maybe I will send out a memo," House retorted. "So we're scheduled to go out tomorrow."
"Really? So soon? Where are you taking her?"
"No idea. I'd be happy with pizza and a few beers in front of the television."
"If you really like her you should make some effort," Wilson told him, exasperated. "That way, she might even consider a second date."
"What do you suggest, oh master of courtship?" House rolled his eyes.
"I've got reservations at Bernelli's on Main St. Tomorrow at 7:30."
"How did you know…" House started.
"I figured you would be incompetent. I made the reservations last week so Cuddy would think you were a little bit responsible." Wilson sighed. "I suppose it's a bit cruel to give her false hope, but…"
"You knew I would ask her?" House asked curiously.
"No. But if you didn't take the reservation I was going to ask the blonde nurse on the fifth floor."
"Do you ever keep it in your pants?" House asked, mock annoyed. Before Wilson could answer however, House obliged for him. "Of course not. And as long as they're willing, I don't suppose you have a reason to…"
Wilson grinned devilishly. "You know, I like that last sentiment. It's a good motto to live by." House stayed a while longer to chat with his best friend before returning to his office in an exceptionally good mood. He bade his team go work his clinic hours to compensate, not wanting them to suspect that anything was happening any differently than usual."
As much as House hated to admit it, even to himself, he was a little nervous about his dinner with the boss. Wilson had suggested that he get her flowers and House had taken the advice and picked up a bouquet of white roses which he fiddled with as he waited for 7 o'clock to roll around. At fifteen 'til he pulled into her driveway and tried to debate on whether or not to knock on her door. He didn't want to seem too eager.
He grabbed the bouquet of roses roughly and hauled himself out of the car and limped toward the door. She opened the door almost immediately which prompted him to believe that she had been watching him from the front window. He sheepishly handed her the flowers that he had brought which she put into a large vase in her living room. "Thank you, House. They're lovely."
"Wilson's idea," he muttered as he escorted her out to his car.
"Thank Wilson for me when you see him." He nodded and opened the door for her, then went around to get in and behind the wheel.
The restaurant that Wilson had made reservations at was a very nice place. Cuddy was impressed and House decided to leave Wilson's association with the date less prominent so he shut his mouth. They were led to a table in a secluded corner. After they placed their orders it got a bit uncomfortable. House didn't know exactly what to say. Cuddy led off with talk about the hospital and House interjected snide comments occasionally. The food arrived and they fell into lighter talking and more eating. House had to admit that Wilson had very good taste in restaurants.
House walked Cuddy back to the door after the date was over and said goodnight. He didn't try to kiss her, but she suggested a second date. He was happy with small steps. At least things were moving forward. Thought it had been a long time coming, House finally made a move for love.