Candeh – Okay, so after taking stupid tests, I'm on and updating my House FF. (: I'm glad I am too, because there are no tests I could be studying for, and my high-school has minimum days this week.
Chapter 3 –
House picked at his food on the cafeteria plate with his fork, giggled the Jell-O with his long pointer finger and then stabbed it with his white, plastic spoon. He sighed, then leaned back in his chair, looking around him.
He was surrounded by sick people. Sick people and anxious people and visitors and staff members. People that he should not be around. He ran fingers through his hair, sighed again, and then, from the corner of his eye seeing Wilson come over to him, sat up straight.
"Close call back there," Wilson said.
"I wouldn't know," House said. Wilson raised an eyebrow. "Sarcasm," House said flatly, offering Wilson his macaroni and cheese side tray. Wilson shook his head and House put it down on his tray and watched it jiggle.
"You think you'll be alright here tonight?" Wilson asked, kicking the leg of a chair beside him.
"I have to stay here?" House asked, raising his voice and causing a few other heads to turn in their direction. Wilson cowered in his seat and glared back at House, hiding his face from the people who looked. "I passed out and I have to stay in a hospital overnight?"
Wilson snorted, "We had to cut a hole in your throat."
House leaned back in his chair again and rubbed his eyes.
"Are you tired?" Wilson said, suddenly on guard.
"No," House said quickly. "In fact, I feel fine enough to go home."
"You're not going home, House," Wilson said.
House crossed his arms. He picked at a nail and then threw it at Wilson aiming for his head. Wilson closed his eyes when it hit him on the forehead and then opened them again and started quickly.
"I'll be here early in the morning, but I might have a late night," he said.
"Why?" House said. He looked deep into his friend's stone face. "Your red face tells me that you're either doing something you don't want to tell me or you're doing something illegal."
Wilson didn't bother laughing. "Cuddy and I…" he started.
House rolled his eyes. From the inner core that made him up, Wilson could sense a trickle of something inside him that made him act different when he mentioned Cuddy's name. To check, Wilson said 'Cuddy' again, and House's focused off him.
"Cuddy and I," Wilson continued, "are going out to dinner."
"Fine," House said, a little unequivocally. He picked up his fork and stuffed the gruel down his throat and then looked back at Wilson with artic blue eyes. "Just tell me if she's any good in bed."
"People like food. Cuddy and I are people. I take it just because we're going out to dinner together doesn't mean…"
"Are you going somewhere fancy?"
"What do you mean 'fancy'?" Wilson said, concentrating on choosing his words carefully.
"Suit and tie, dress and high heels fancy," House said, already noting by the way Wilson moved his eyes that it was indeed that kind of fancy. He wanted to hear him say it however, so that he could audibly know he was right too.
"Yes, suit and tie, dress and high heel fancy," Wilson said, sighing. As Wilson got up to leave, he could feel House's eyes follow him out of the cafeteria. He moved and waited for him to follow, and when he didn't hear House's limping from behind him, he darted into Cuddy's office to arrange what time he should pick her up.
By seven, Wilson and Cuddy had made their way to the restaurant. They sat at a corner that showed the moon perfectly from the window, had exactly five small red roses between them, and violins playing behind them. Cuddy laughed.
"The food is delicious," she said, taking a bite of her spaghetti and twisted it around a non-plastic, sparkling silverware spoon. Wilson smiled, also starting into his food and taking a sip of his wine.
"It's better than the cafeteria, that's for sure," he said.
Cuddy smiled, and then sighed, "Is House upset that he's staying there overnight?"
Wilson thought about it, "Do you think House is upset?"
Cuddy laughed, "Are you kidding? He's probably throwing a fit and giving the nurse's a hard time." She nervously drank, thinking about the hole she had slit across his neck. She drowned the thought out by the sound of the strings and smiled again, showing straight white teeth.
The two of them were both worried about House in the hospital, and besides the fact that they had made plans for dinner before House had passed out, they had reluctantly, halfheartedly agreed that they should carry on with their plans, despite House. It had bothered them now as they sat here and thought about him, lying alone in the uncomfortable bed and listening to his own breathing, limping to get up to go to the bathroom, or falling and having to pick himself up.
"I mean," Cuddy said, "not that I don't think House can handle anything himself."
"Of course," Wilson said. "He's fine."
Cuddy finished her drink, looked down in the empty glass. She saw a waiter pass by and ordered another drink, and asked Wilson if he wanted a second one.
"No, thanks," Wilson said, showing her his glass. "I'm not barely done with the first one."
The waiter moved away and soon brought her the drink she had ordered and in one swallow, Cuddy drank it down and looked up at the waiter again. "On second thought, can I have like, three more drinks?"
The waiter stared at her for a while. He nodded and rushed away and Cuddy, who took no shame in what she had done looked back at Wilson who was laughing.
"Are you thirsty?" he said.
"Yea," Cuddy said, laughing. "And that is some really, really good wine."
Wilson smiled, glad that Cuddy liked the food and the soothing atmosphere. He tried to compose his calm demeanor and flashed her his own ashen teeth.
"I'm sure it's nothing House," Cameron said, sitting on the edge of his head. House sat up straight and then, in a heaving motion, got up. He snatched his cane from the chair as if it were trying to take it from him, and limped to the other side of the bed.
"It is nothing. I don't know why I have to stay here," he said.
"Then why are you?" Cameron said, standing. "It's never stopped you before from doing anything."
House looked back at her, "I know, that's why I'm leaving."
"You can't leave," Cameron said, going to the door.
"Why not?" House said, giving her a cold look. He was tired and already had purple circles forming under his eyes.
"You don't have your clothes," Cameron said.
"What, did you burn them?" House said, trying to push past.
"They're at my house. I'm washing them," she said.
House raised his brow, "Okay…" he said.
"And you don't have a car," Cameron said.
"I drove to work," House said.
"And I took your keys from your pocket and drove your car home," Cameron said, keeping her face straight. It was true, that she had stolen his car and clothes, but her face kept cracking at how weird this sounded now, to be saying it, when she only intended to be sincere.
House sighed. "I'll walk."
"Then I'll have to take your cane," Cameron said. "And if you try and crawl…"
House snorted, successfully breaking past her.
"Look," Cameron called, staying where she was and watching House limp away. "If there is nothing wrong with you, it won't hurt you to stay here, for just one night. It's already eight thirty. Just stay here tonight."
House turned around, stared her in the eye.
"You don't think there's nothing wrong with me," he said, studying her.
She held his stare, "Please."
"I mean if House has a problem with us going out, then he should just say something," Cuddy said, obviously drunk by the time they had got back to Wilson's car. Wilson, who was perfect fine, had stayed quiet, until he heard her say the words 'going out'. He smiled to himself and kept driving.
"He's ridiculous," Cuddy continued, "He thinks he's invincible and…right. Well, most of the time he is right. But he's a pervert and a addict and, oh gosh is he addicted to drugs, am I right or what?"
Wilson laughed and nodded, "You are definitely right."
Cuddy leaned on him, placed his head on his shoulder when he stopped the car to her house. "Walk me up?"
Wilson got out of his car and the two of them walked up the stairs to her house. The porch light went on, and aside from a trickle of rain, it was a warm night. "Thank you," Cuddy said.
"It was fun," Wilson said, smiling.
They hugged, looked into each other's eyes for a moment and then Cuddy started laughing again, sinking her body into Wilson's. "I mean, how desperate is House, anyway? He's like obsessed."
Wilson forced a laugh and picked her drooping body up. He took the keys from her hands and let himself inside, carrying her in. "I'll just take you to your bed," Wilson said over Cuddy's rambling.
"He just thinks he's the freaking rule of the world, but he doesn't know shit," she spat. Wilson set her on the couch and then waited. Cuddy sat up, clutched her head from a sudden head rush and continued. "He's rude, skinny, offensive, a pill-popper, sarcastic, cute, irresistible. I love him."
Wilson looked up, "What?"
Cuddy laughed, slapped her head, "What did I just say? Did I just say I loved House?" She laughed harder and turned to Wilson, "I must be really drunk."
