House limped into the main foyer of the townhouse. He was not surprised to see another package sitting at the front door to the apartment.
He didn't really understand how proper etiquette allowed an almost 50-year-old man and his fiancé--who was a widow, to boot--to register for, much less, expect wedding gifts, but he'd never been one to follow societal dictates and he didn't see any reason to start now. Plus, he was all for free stuff!
The logo on the box proclaimed that the gift du jour was from a local printing company. What on earth could they possibly need from a professional printer?
The box was light enough and so he tossed it onto the couch and hung up his coat on the rack by the door. He knew Allison was already home as he could smell the chinese take-out that she was surely portioning out on to real plates in the kitchen. He'd stopped arguing that they could just as easily eat their standard Friday night meal from the containers that they came in and save the trouble of clean-up later on, but she insisted and he'd come to accept it as one of her quirks.
As he sat on the couch and reached for the remote he called out, "Hey, we got another gift. What dumb-ass do we know that would send us something from a print shop?"
Allison poked her head around the corner of the kitchen and looked between House and the box sitting next to him. "What are you talking about? Oh, that's not a wedding gift, it's my order. I was out of script pads and business cards so I ordered some more. I guess I gave them the home address for delivery instead of the hospital's. Would you mind opening it up and checking them for me, make sure they got it all right and everything?"
"Sure." House tossed the remote back on the coffee table and pulled the box into his lap. He slit the tape on the flap with his thumbnail and lifted out one of the script pads. He looked down at the top of the pad and did a double take.
Allison Cameron-House, M.D.
Department of Emergency Medicine
Princeton-Plainsborough Teaching Hospital
He set it down on the coffee table then pulled out the box of business cards. The sample card taped to the front of the box matched the name on the script pad. He picked the pad back up in his other hand and stared at the items. He was speechless.
Allison Cameron was an accomplished doctor with countless journal articles published in her name. He'd just assumed that her name would remain the same after the wedding and had tried hard not to think about the fact that he really wanted her to change it to his own. He'd admitted to himself only that he'd wanted to brand her in that way, so that the whole world would know that she belonged to him. In the end though, he'd resigned himself to the fact that her rings alone would have to suffice.
Leave it to Allison to find a compromise.
She set the plates on the coffee table, moved the box to the floor, sat down in its place, and looked at her gobsmacked husband-to-be. It was a look that he very rarely wore. She had to admit that it thrilled the hell out of her to know that she was one of the few people who could put it on his face.
She sidled up next to him as he still stared disbelievingly at the items in his hands. She touched the arm that held her new script pad, ducked her head to catch his eyes with hers, and smiled at him.
"Greg, is there a problem? Didn't they get the order right?"
"Yeah, they did." He dropped the pad and the box of cards back in the box, pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard and fast, leaving her breathless and smiling into his impossibly blue eyes.
"You were wrong, though. Turned out to be a gift after all."