Okay...so I couldn't leave this one well enough alone. :D As usual, I don't own anything House-related.
House sat at his piano that evening, quietly playing and sipping at his bourbon. He kept looking at the flowers from Michelle with suspicion, still questioning her motives. Despite his bold announcement to Wilson earlier, he doubted that she would actually follow through. Women didn't chase House around, as a general rule.
There was something about Michelle, though. He had noticed her about a month ago when Cuddy finally goaded him into doing a small portion of his clinic duty. When he had signed in with his normal grumbling about the morons that took up the waiting room, she had actually snickered a little instead of rolling her eyes like the other clinic nurses.
That got his attention. House decided the matter needed further investigation, and would wander down to the clinic anytime he and his team didn't have a case. He got to know Michelle's schedule fairly well, and he might have sent a small smile or a look her way. Not that he would ever admit it, of course.
Wilson had told him to ask her out before the woman slapped him with a restraining order, but he just couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He just couldn't see the point. He'd only find a way to screw it up, even if he managed to get past a first date.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He grabbed his cane, pushing himself away from the piano to answer the door. According to his watch, it was 7:29. If it was Michelle…Nah, it can't be. Even if she was telling the truth, and they did share a birthday, that didn't mean she wanted to spend it with him.
He flung open the door, and for once he was speechless. Michelle was standing at his door, two bags of Chinese food in her hand. She was dressed casually in a clingy t-shirt, denim shorts, and brown leather sandals, her light brown hair down and brushing her shoulders. Well, damn. Happy birthday to me.
Michelle waited for some sort of reaction from House. Right now he looked stunned, for lack of a better word. Judging from his disheveled appearance, he hadn't been expecting company at all. She was so used to taking the lead with the men in her life, and House seemed like someone who needed a little extra encouragement. Maybe she had been a bit too bold this time.
She held up the bags, an amused look on her face. "I brought food, as you demanded. Do you plan on letting me in?"
House shook his head as if to clear it, finally stepping aside. "Yeah, come on in. Far be it for me to reject free food."
Michelle watched him limp toward the kitchen, noting his remarkably well-built body. The loose fit jeans fit his lean frame perfectly, and the sleeves of his t-shirt rode up a bit as he walked, the muscles in his arms flexing with each lean on his cane. She had heard about his disability from the nurses, but she didn't know the details. It certainly didn't stop her from imagining what those legs looked like. If they were anywhere near as well built as his arms…
"Beer?" House was suddenly in front of her, holding out an open beer bottle, his cobalt blue eyes boring into her.
"Thank you." Michelle quickly recovered, taking the bottle, brushing his fingers as she did so. She set the bags on the coffee table and began unpacking. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I picked up a combo. I hope that's okay."
"Fine by me. I'm not fussy." House sat down on the couch, checking Michelle out as she bent over the coffee table. Her current wardrobe choice showed off her curves far better than her scrubs did, and a million dirty thoughts raced through House's mind. "I'll go after some plates. Are there any chopsticks in there?"
"Yep. You might want to bring out some spoons for the soup, maybe something to serve this up with."
House nodded, rising to make his way to the kitchen, glad for the momentary distraction. He leaned against the kitchen island for a moment, long enough to collect his thoughts. Now that Michelle was actually here, he was at a loss as to how to handle this. Was this a date? If so, what did she expect from him?
"Doctor House? Everything okay in there?"
"Fine. I'll be right there." House grabbed a couple of plates and some silverware. If nothing else, he had the chance to spend an evening with a beautiful woman. No point in squandering it. One never knew when it might happen again.
# # #
They loaded up their plates and ate in relative silence, neither one of them quite sure how to start any conversation between them. Michelle sat cross-legged on the leather couch, while House leaned back, lifting his right leg to rest on the coffee table. She noticed that he used both hands to lift the damaged leg. The damage must have been extensive to require that sort of effort.
House finished first, placing his plate on the coffee table and shifting so he faced Michelle. She slurped up the last of her noodles, licking the bit of sauce that remained on her lips. House kind of wished he had thought of that first, but watching her do it was just as good. Michelle chuckled as she watched House's mouth twitch slightly, and she set down her plate, turning toward House.
"So…we share a birthday." Michelle stretched her arm down the back of the couch. "May I ask what year?"
House smirked. "You can…doesn't mean you'll get a straight answer. You first."
"Fine. We'll make a game out of it." Michelle looked thoughtful. "I was born the year the Beatles released their first album in America."
No way in HELL she's that…age. House squinted skeptically. "Dare I say it? 1962."
Michelle laughed, a low, sultry sound. "Well done, sir. That was too easy. Your turn."
House twisted his mouth, frowning as he thought of a good one for her. "Okay…Think the song 'American Pie'. That's your clue."
"Oh…a challenge. Nice." Michelle softly hummed it to herself, nodding her head in some unknown rhythm. "The day the music died…Buddy Holly plane crash…must be 1959."
House smiled softly, lighting up his rough face. "Damn, you're good. I thought for sure I'd trip you up."
"What can I say? I'm a bit of a savant when it comes to music."
"Nothing wrong with that. I guess I'm kind of the same way."
"I can tell." Michelle gestured to the guitars that hung on the wall. "Do you play, or do you just collect?"
"Both. The piano's more my thing, though. You?"
"I've been known to play a little guitar from time to time. My mom taught me a few chords, and I just took it from there."
"Cool." House stretched his arm out along the back of the couch, lightly touching Michelle's arm. "We should duet sometime."
Michelle touched his arm in return, making House jump a little. "I'd like that."
House pulled away, suddenly feeling awkward. He started closing containers as Michelle took dishes to the kitchen. When he had suggested they duet…he wasn't so sure he was talking about music. The thought mortified him a little. Sure, he openly cracked jokes about Cuddy's figure and his hookers, but that was just to get a reaction. This was different. This had the potential to be real, if he could manage to keep his foot out of his mouth.
# # #
Michelle returned as House was closing the last of the containers. He was looking vaguely uncomfortable, and she almost felt bad for him. For some reason, this was difficult for him.
"I'll take those into the kitchen. You ready for another beer?"
"Sure." House nodded as he sat back against the cushions. Michelle soon brought back two beers, handing one to House and opening one for herself. She settled in the chair near the couch, trying to give him a little space and make him a little more comfortable.
"So…what led you into medicine?"
House told her the story about the untouchable Japanese janitor, who also happened to be a brilliant doctor, solving the unsolvable. It fascinated House, and he had decided right then to become a doctor.
"What about you? Why nursing?"
Michelle's mouth quirked upward. "Oh, you damn doctors are all alike. You just assume we did nursing school because we couldn't hack med school." House rolled his eyes, but encouraged her to continue. "You could say I found my calling late in life. I didn't even start college until I was thirty. I started out as a CNA after my daughter was born, then decided I wanted more. It took me eight years, but I finally got my degree. I worked oncology, pediatrics, emergency, you name it. When I got the chance to get into Princeton Plainsboro, I jumped on it. I didn't realize it would mostly be a desk job."
House looked puzzled. "You sound almost disappointed."
"I kind of miss doing patient care. And let's face it, most of the patients that come through that clinic aren't the sharpest tools in the shed."
"No shit. You wouldn't believe some of the patients I've seen."
Their conversation segued into the wide variety of clinic patients, and Michelle swore House was exaggerating a few of them. Hours passed before they knew it, and Michelle noticed the time.
"I've got to get home. My daughter worries when I come in late."
"Well, we don't want that, do we?" House rose with Michelle, following her to the door. He wasn't sure how to end the evening. He had thoroughly enjoyed her company, and he definitely wanted to see her again.
Michelle opened the door, waiting for House to make a move. It soon became clear that she was the one who would have to send the signals. She rose on tip toe to place a small kiss on House's cheek. "Happy birthday, Doctor House."
"Greg." House managed to choke out, clearing his throat. "It's Greg. And…happy birthday to you too, Michelle." He placed his hand on her cheek and kissed her firmly on the lips, resisting the urge to slip her some tongue. "Good night."
"Night."
Michelle was halfway out the main door when he called out to her. "I'd like to see you again. What are you up to this weekend?"
"Mmm…Can't think of anything right off hand." She pulled a pen and a piece of paper out of her purse. "I'm off on Friday. Give me a call if you're not busy."
House looked a little surprised. "Will do. Good night." He quickly kissed her again before she left, and he watched her as she climbed into her SUV and pulled away from the curb.
Suddenly, Friday couldn't come soon enough.
You know what happens next. Read and review.