Wow, that had gone well! Basically, all House had to do now was to establish his position before Friday when he had his next check-up and would likely be able to hand back the crutches once and for all. He spent all his unoccupied moments thinking long and hard the next day, and finally came up with an idea. He had been missing his piano quite a bit recently, and some guy with a van was bound to be looking for work.
In the meantime, House honed his innocent act and when Wilson came home on Thursday night, he was well prepared, tinkling away on the piano as if it had never been anywhere else. Wilson's reaction was a sight to behold. He gawked, opened his mouth, closed it again, well near hyperventilated and then exploded. "What the HELL is that?" "It's a musical instrument. You hit these keys here and it makes a sound. Would it be easier for you to understand in South Pacific Pidgin? It's called Big Fella Box You Hit Him He Cry." "Get that back to your apartment NOW! And I don't want to see you here for another minute once you're rid the crutches! Actually you can leave right away with your piano, it's obvious that you're quite capable of running your own life again." House set his eyes to huge blue innocent mode. "The removal guys have families, too, y'know. And what if I fall again?" "Feel free to hire a care assistant!" House's eyes were now set to saucer size. "You said you wouldn't mind me staying on longer. And I was missing my piano." He knew Wilson could never resist his sad gaze for long, and indeed he gave the expected long-suffering sigh. "Right, let's talk this over." "Naw, it'll be much more fun to see you ranting about it to Cuddy tomorrow morning." With that he retired to bed; he knew he had come perilously close to being slapped.
The next morning Chase and the physio had good news for him. "It's healed in perfectly. Another two weeks with just the leg brace and you'll be back to your old self." He handed back the crutches with a feeling of profound relief, if there was a more annoying mobility aid he didn't know about it. "So when are you moving back home?" Chase asked. "Don't know yet. Well, Wilson is kinda mad at me, so maybe tonight, but if I have anything to do with it..." He didn't have time to spin the thought out further, because there was Cuddy in the door, glowering at him. "House! My office!" He followed her with an air of carefree innocence. There was nothing wrong as such with moving a piece of furniture he was fond of over for a short period of time, was there? When they got to Cuddy's office Wilson was already waiting for them, looking exasperated. "So why the hell did you do this?" Cuddy asked. House shrugged. "I was missing my piano. I WILL take it back with me when I go home. Anyway, I think it looks pretty good there, no?" "Well, as far as Wilson is concerned you've started marking your territory with that move. Do you actually want to go home?" "Don't know yet..." he had to admit. He really wanted to stay, it was good to be with Wilson 24/7. Even arguing with him over his fucking telenovelas felt better than watching the world series alone. "As in you don't really want to." Wilson made a banging his head against the wall gesture. "HELP! It's taking over!" House thought for a moment and then tried to string together a real, sensible argument, one that had actually been in the back of his head for days. "Maybe I should stay on." Wilson looked aghast. "Think about it! You need someone to care for, and I need someone to look after me. You said you enjoyed me being there. Well, kind of anyway. And I'm better than I've been in years. I'm in less pain, I need less Vicodin. Hell, did you notice? I'm nearly down to my prescribed dose." "Well, great for you, and what's in it for me?" "Eternal neediness? Not being alone? Not hooking up with damaged nurses and terminal patients anymore?" Wilson nodded slowly, he seemed to see the truth to that. "Right... So... Why the hell didn't you just tell me? Ask? Anything? I'd have considered it." House gathered his thoughts, the next bit was going to be difficult. He found it impossible to look at anyone. Finally he got his words out in a low mumble. "I was worried you might say no."
They spent their evening making plans over a cardboard takeaway pizza and a couple of beers. There was plenty of space in the living room, so the piano could go into a corner along with the book cases, House would contribute a decent entertainment centre to their new shared life - it was fun to see things falling into place. They went to bed with a whole new feeling of fondness for each other.
After an hour's tossing and turning, his head full of racing thoughts about the day he'd had and what lay ahead, House suddenly realised what would help him sleep. Emboldened by the success of his plan, he went over to the master bedroom. Seeing Wilson in bed there, half-arsedly watching the late news and turning his gaze towards him with a new glow in his eyes made him smile, and - Wilson smiled back. "Wanna come in?" He held up the comforter. That wasn't an invitation House needed to hear twice. He crawled into bed beside Wilson, feeling a great surge of happiness. They looked at each other for a moment, with big smiles on their faces. "So when are you gonna get your stuff moved over?" "Tomorrow ok with you?" "Totally!" They fell asleep in each other's arms.