Back at it with another update. Once again, I don't own them, never have, never will. Enjoy.

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House stood in front of his bathroom mirror when he got home that night, surprised by his own behavior at the bar. He wracked his brain, trying to remember the last time he had felt any attraction to a guy, never mind let a guy hit on him.

He suddenly wished he hadn't given Anthony his phone number. The simple act opened up possibilities that House wasn't sure he was willing to deal with. It threw his whole notion of his own sexuality into question, an idea he was only starting to work through when he left the institution and moved into outpatient counseling.

Right now he was curious about Anthony. What did the younger man see in him that House didn't? Despite the 'gaydar' crack, something obviously drove him to that particular bar instead of to one of the gay clubs that surrounded Princeton. If the guy wanted a sure thing, he certainly could have gone that route.

House was instantly suspicious. He ran through a quick mental checklist, trying to remember anything that might have stood out. Nothing came immediately to mind, but that didn't mean anything. Anthony could well be hiding any number of things.

The chiming phone in House's pocket pulled him from his thoughts. House quickly dug it out, checking the Caller ID. It showed an unknown number, unusual in itself. Intrigued, House finally answered.

"House."

"Hey, man." The gentle voice laughed on the other end. "Thought you gave me a bullshit number."

House was baffled. "Why would I do that?"

Anthony shook his head on the other end. For an old guy, House was kind of naïve. "You mean to tell me you never gave someone a false number?"

"That's not my style." House spoke bluntly. "If I didn't want to talk to you, I wouldn't have bothered to give you a number at all."

"Fair enough." Anthony immediately changed his assessment of House. He wasn't naïve, necessarily, just honest. It was kind of refreshing. "So…I…I called you for a reason."

House rolled his eyes, making his way to the living room and easing his way onto the leather couch. "Duh. Spit it out already."

Anthony paced around his kitchen, running his hand through his dark hair. "I guess this is where I ask you out…or something."

House was immediately amused. "Like…a date? Is that what you people call it?"

You people. Oh, boy. Anthony wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into. "Only if that's what you want to call it. If you just want to call it getting together to hang out and get to know each other, that's cool, too. Date seems simpler."

House chuckled. If nothing else, Anthony had a sense of humor. That alone might make spending some time with the guy worthwhile. "How about this…I work at Princeton-Plainsboro. There's a deli across the street. Meet me there and we'll hang out, see how it goes."

"Sounds good. Time?"

House thought about this for a minute. He wasn't sure he wanted the entire hospital knowing his personal business, even if it amounted to nothing. "One o'clock. Less crowded then."

Anthony nodded. House struck him as a very private man, and he probably didn't want any co-workers getting into his personal business. "I'll be there. See you tomorrow, House."

"See you, Anthony."

House closed his phone, the realization of what he had just done washing over him. He had a date. Not just an ordinary date. A date with a man.

Things were getting weird in a hurry. House took a deep breath and leaned against the back of the couch. It was just lunch. It wasn't that big a deal, really. If it went badly, he never had to see the guy again. If it went well…who knew. He was taking a huge chance, but it felt like a chance worth taking.

# # #

House found himself in front of his closet the next morning, staring at the selection of button down shirts. It took a moment for him to realize what was taking him so damned long. On a subconscious level, he was trying to pick something that he thought Anthony might like.

He chuckled to himself and picked a dark blue button down to go over his gray t-shirt and dark wash jeans. Since when had he ever given a crap about his appearance? He made his way to the bathroom, scrubbing his hand over his short gray hair, inspecting his rough face.

After some self-debate, House decided to leave the stubble, but impulsively reached into the medicine cabinet for an old bottle of cologne. He couldn't remember who gave it to him. Stacy, probably. He took a quick whiff of the spicy scent before splashing a small amount in his hand and spreading it over his face and neck.

This was crazy. He never went to this much trouble for anyone, male or female. What the hell was he thinking?! House shook off his doubts and headed out to the living room, throwing on his jacket and picking up his backpack.

House climbed onto his bike and strapped on his helmet, firing up the bike. He was determined to have a perfectly normal day, lunch 'date' or no lunch 'date'. Cuddy, Wilson, and his team might not see it that way, but House already knew the sooner he managed to get things back to normal, the better off things would be.

# # #

Three heads turned as one when House entered the office, hanging up his jacket and dumping his backpack on the floor. He strode into the conference room, feeling his team's eyes upon him as he poured himself a cup of coffee and moved to the whiteboard.

"It's looking a lot empty." House took a drink of his coffee and looked at the three faces around the conference table. "I thought you were working this case when I left yesterday?"

An awkward silence fell over the room, and a grin spread over House's face. "Admit it…you missed me."

Taub and Foreman rolled their eyes, and Thirteen hid a smirk behind her hand. Foreman was the first one to speak.

"Just because we didn't use your damn whiteboard doesn't mean we weren't working on it." Foreman snapped. "We just work differently without you."

House gestured for the file, nearly snatching it from Thirteen's hand. He flipped it open and started scribbling symptoms on the board. "Well…there's a new-old sheriff in town. It's still my department, in case you've forgotten. I don't see your name on that door."

Taub studied the symptoms that House copied onto the board. He had to admit, his boss's disorganized style had some merit. An idea slowly came to him.

"I'm going to do an LP. Looks like a possible infection ."

"You do that." House growled. "Should have done it yesterday, but…better late than never, I guess."

House sent Thirteen to help out Taub, leaving him alone with Foreman. He watched House write out possible diagnoses next to the symptoms, folding his arms over his chest.

"Was that crack really necessary?"

House turned to him, snapping the cap back on the marker. "Call it…reestablishing my authority. Believe it or not, I'm perfectly capable of running this show. I don't need you babysitting me." He fixed Foreman with a glare. "Go make yourself useful."

Foreman huffed in irritation, turning and leaving the conference room. This whole 'watch-over-House' scenario was playing out exactly as he had predicted, but with a different edge to it. House seemed…different somehow, although Foreman couldn't quite put his finger on it. His time away had clearly had an effect. Whether it was for better or worse wasn't obvious just yet.

# # #

House was sitting at his desk, pondering the case as well as his upcoming lunch…thing. He tossed his ball up in the air, catching it on the way down in a soothing rhythm. It seemed to help his thought process on both fronts as he wrestled with everything that was going on in his mind.

Wilson popped his head into his office, breaking his train of thought. "Free for lunch?"

House caught the ball, shaking his head at Wilson. "Nope. Kind of have my own thing going on."

"Really." Wilson entered House's office, intrigued by House's statement. "Making new friends?"

"You could say that." House tilted his head, not sure how much he wanted to reveal to Wilson. If he told too much, he risked losing Wilson as a friend. He was sure he couldn't afford that. "Met a guy last night."

Wilson closed the office door, not sure how to interpret what he was hearing. "Like…how?"

House rolled his eyes. "Like…he introduced himself, we chatted, I gave him my number…you know, like you'd meet anyone."

Wilson was baffled. This definitely wasn't the House he remembered. The House he knew would never actively seek out anyone. Something was very strange here. "Okay, so how does this translate into you not being free for lunch?"

"God, you're dense, Wilson." House huffed in annoyance and he heaved himself from his office chair. "I'll see you later. Don't want to be late for my date."

Date?! No, he's got to be messing with my head. "What the hell do you mean, 'date'?" Wilson followed House out of his office and down the hallway to the elevator.

"The kind I don't need a goddamn chaperone for." House was feeling flustered enough without Wilson's help.

"Look…if that's your thing…I'm okay with that." Wilson placed a hand on House's shoulder. House tensed up, but didn't pull away. "I just never…"

"Yeah, I know. Me either." House tapped his cane on the floor as he waited for the elevator. "Go find Foreman. I hear he's looking for a lunch buddy."

Wilson smiled a little as he stepped onto the elevator with House. "Would it be appropriate to say 'good luck'?"

House puffed out his cheeks as he relaxed a little. "Maybe. Is it appropriate to say I'm a nervous fucking wreck?"

"I'd be surprised if you weren't."

House nodded, a serious expression on his face. "I don't know what's going to come out of this. Maybe something, maybe nothing."

"No wonder you're nervous." Wilson nodded in understanding. "First dates are always a train wreck."

"That's the thing. I don't even know if I should call this a date or not." House's mouth twisted in amusement.

Wilson shrugged as they stepped off the elevator. "Are you asking for my advice?"

"No, not really." House paused before he started toward the exit. "Just…I don't know what I was asking."

"You're opening yourself up. It's a good thing, no matter what happens." Wilson awkwardly reached out to touch House's shoulder. "Have fun and…good luck."

"Thanks, Wilson. See you in an hour."

With that, House made his way to the exit, pulling his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and shoving them on his face. Wilson watched him go, still not sure what to think. House looked like he had taken more than five minutes to get ready today, and Wilson thought he had caught a whiff of cologne when they were in the elevator.

Yes, it was definitely a date. Wilson tried to wrap his brain around the idea of House dating a man, and failed miserably. It didn't matter what he thought, though. As long as House was reaching out, it couldn't be a bad thing. He just hoped both House and whoever he was meeting knew what they were getting into.

# # #

House entered the deli, taking off his shades and glancing around the deli, not sure he would recognize Anthony in broad daylight. Much to his surprise, he spotted the younger man fairly easily when he waved House over from the booth he was lounging in.

He limped over to the booth and slid in, nervously rubbing his thigh. In the light of day, Anthony's eyes appeared to be a brighter shade of green than he remembered, leading House to wonder if they were colored contacts. The hair was the same dark brown, and Anthony kept shoving it out of his eyes as he appraised House.

The bright blue eyes were the first thing that Anthony noticed about the older man, set off by the dark blue button down he wore over a gray t-shirt. They were set in a rough face, a face that looked like it had lived a difficult life, edged in about three days of growth.

Anthony didn't normally go for older men, but he found House intriguing. It was clear that House wasn't completely comfortable with the situation, and Anthony wasn't sure how to set him at ease. Finally, Anthony leaned across the table to House.

"Look, as far as I'm concerned, this is just lunch between new friends. It doesn't have to be anything." Anthony gave House a gentle smile. "Although…you do look very nice."

"Uh…thanks, I think." House briefly smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I…might have mentioned something to my friend. I don't think he believed me, though."

Anthony gave House a questioning look. "Your…friend?"

"Wilson. He works down the hall from me. We've been friends forever."

"So…nothing between you two?"

"Hell no." House barked out a short laugh. "He's more a brother than anything else. A caring, irritating, smothering brother, but a brother nevertheless. Not to mention straight as an arrow."

"Good to know." Anthony smiled a little and played with the salt and pepper shakers. Not that he was a jealous sort of guy, but…he liked to know where he stood. "Anyone else I should know about?"

House's mouth quirked in amusement. "Definitely not. You?"

Anthony shook his head. "Not anymore. Split with my last…guy a few months ago. I haven't invested a lot of energy in finding someone new."

"Interesting." House studied Anthony across the table. "So you just up and decided to hang out in some bar and take your chances."

Anthony shrugged. "I happen to live close to the bar, so I hang out there from time to time. I didn't plan on anything. It just sort of…happened."

"Mm-hm." The waitress brought their food, and House was soon distracted by his meal, turning over the conversation in his mind.

They ate in relative silence, punctuated by the occasional burst of conversation, and they soon found themselves relaxing a bit around each other. It was becoming much like just lunch with a friend…an attractive friend, granted, but House felt his initial nervous energy ebbing away as Anthony drew him in with his casual chat.

Anthony was a very different kind of person. It was a nice change to hang out with someone who wasn't from the hospital, who didn't have some kind of history with House, someone who didn't assume he would break at the slightest provocation. It was a good thing, a very good thing, and it made House want to spend more time with Anthony.

The waitress brought the bill, and Anthony snapped it up before House could even reach his back pocket. "Don't sweat it. I'll get it this time."

House's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Guess that makes me the girl here, right? I don't have to put out or anything, do I?"

Anthony fixed House with a wicked grin. "Not this time. If we go to dinner though…"

House leaned across the table, and Anthony caught just a whiff of his cologne. "I'll be sure to doll up for you."

Anthony bit back a comment, figuring House was just about to the limit of his comfort zone. The two slid out of the booth, Anthony gesturing House to walk ahead of him, stepping out of the deli and out to the sidewalk.

"Look…all jokes aside…" Anthony lightly touched House's shoulder. "This was nice. I'd like to see you again, if you're not too freaked out by the idea."

House nodded, not reaching out to Anthony, but not backing away, either. "Oddly enough…I enjoyed this too. It was…different. In a good way, I mean." House tentatively reached out to brush Anthony's bangs out of his eyes. "And get a damned haircut already. Just because you're a queen doesn't mean you have to look like one."

Anthony rolled his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind. If they take away my queer card, though…I'm holding you personally responsible." He gave House a quick peck on the cheek and squeezed his hand before turning to walk down the street. "I'll call you about dinner."

That sneaky little…"Yeah, you do that." House rubbed his cheek where Anthony had laid his sneak attack. Oddly enough, House wasn't feeling freaked out by the sudden show of affection. Matter of fact, he secretly hoped there might be a little more where that came from.

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