CHAPTER 1

Wilson knocked on Cuddy's office door and she waved him in from her seat at her desk. "So, I have a proposal for you," he began. He didn't see House, stretched on Cuddy's office couch behind him, playing a handheld video game. House looked at Cuddy and put a finger to his lips.

"All right," Cuddy answered.

"Sam's mother is a big animal rights activist and is hosting a benefit dinner this Friday night," Wilson began. House's face turned to one of repulsion and he began silently waving his arms at Cuddy, mouthing "No. No. No!" Wilson continued, "And Sam actually can get four free tickets and asked if you might want to join us."

"Hmmm…" Cuddy hummed, buying time. "That's really thoughtful of her…"

"I know it means you'd have to spend the time trying to convince House," he said in a commiserating tone, "But that's why I came to you first. I figured you'd have an easier time, you know, convincing him. That is if you even want to go…"

"Hmmm…" Cuddy repeated. House's phone suddenly rang and Wilson whirled around.

"Ah-ha!" House cried, sitting up and pointing a finger at Wilson as he fished for his phone. "Caught! Trying to scam the scammer." He answered his phone. Wilson sighed heavily and turned to look at Cuddy accusingly.

"Sorry, Wilson!" Cuddy defended herself. "He's like a fish tank at this point. I forget he's hanging around back there until turns green and starts to smell funny." House glared at her as he listened to his phone caller. He told his team he was heading up and he hung up.

"I only turn green when you neglect me," he retorted. Then, to address the matter at hand, he said, "And the answer is no, Wilson. We have better things to do than watch a bunch of supposed tree-huggers talk about seal-clubbing while they eat bloody steaks." Cuddy pouted the slightest bit. "What, you wanna go?" House asked, incredulous.

"We haven't gone out like that before," she said, tempted. "We could get dressed up, drink champagne…"

"I'll dress up and buy champagne and we can get wasted at your house!" he offered. Cuddy sighed and frowned a little. Damn her and those lips.

"Come on, House," Wilson chimed in, "Free food, free booze, a large room of strangers to mock and ridicule…"

House looked at Cuddy's hopeful face. "Fine," House relented. "But you owe me, Cuddy. You have to increase my daily porn-watching limit."

"Deal," she agreed. "I'll double it."

"Ooooh," House crooned in mock excitement, "Double the none!" He narrowed his eyes at her. "Alright ladies," he continued, "I gotta go teach kindergarteners now how to read an MRI properly. Why do I have a team again?" he complained.

"They do all the things you don't want to do while you play video games on your girlfriend's couch," Wilson explained.

"Oh yeah," House replied. He got up to walk out, whining, "Now I have to go to my place and pick up my alligator boots and my mink-lined suit. Oh! And those cufflinks made out of kitten teeth!" He continued his list as he left Cuddy's office.

Wilson turned back to Cuddy. "You're remarkable," he told her. "That would have taken me at least half a day."

"Try sex, Wilson," she advised. "It's his weakness."

Wilson made a face that was a combination of puzzlement and repulsion. Then he turned towards the door, saying, "So, great! We'll see you on Friday…"

"Did you notice that, Wilson? How House talks about our living arrangement?" she inquired.

Wilson stopped short and did sort-of a double take. He turned back to Cuddy's desk. "Your living arrangement?" He didn't know what she was talking about.

"He's been staying over every night for over nine months now. But he still says 'your house' and 'my place,'" she explained. "He's hardly ever even at his old apartment, except to pick up some random item. Why do you think he doesn't sell it and move his stuff in?"

"Have you asked him to move in with you?" Wilson probed.

Cuddy shook her head. They paused talking for a moment, Wilson waiting for her to go further. "But why do you think he doesn't ask me if he can?" she finally asked.

"Cuddy, this is House we're talking about," Wilson reminded her. "He's like inertia – If he's set to do something, it is impossible to stop him; if he's an object at rest… well, he lays on your couch all morning." Cuddy nodded, seeing his point. "House doesn't think like that. He's not gonna broach the topic until you do," Wilson insisted.

"What do you think he'd say?" Cuddy asked.

"Probably something sarcastic and ambiguous," he replied. "Why are you so nervous about this? You're a confident woman, Cuddy. He loves you. It's not gonna be a huge problem."

Cuddy sighed. "I know. And you're right, it doesn't mean anything that he hasn't brought it up. He's crabbily happy right where he is until one of us pushes him to do something different. It's just… I don't know, I just want him to make the first move on something. I feel like I'm the one who finally said, 'Let's do this,' and then I'm the one who asked him to start staying over all the time. I just want to know that it occurs to him to take this forward, and not that he just agrees to it – like a benefit dinner," she explained.

Wilson felt for her. "Maybe I can give him a little push," he offered, always the meddler. "We could just see how he responds."

Cuddy looked equivocal. "Yeah, I don't know how that will go over. And I feel weird not being more mature about it," she hesitated.

"Cuddy, he plays video games at work. I hardly think you've regressed to his level," Wilson comforted. Cuddy looked even more uncomfortable and looked away. "What? Now he has you playing video games at work?"

"Just when he beats my high score!" she explained defensively. "He gloats for hours! I just need to take back my place of honor to shut him up!"

"I can see why you're worried, Cuddy," Wilson sighed. "You two are completely incompatible."