Author's note: many thanks to my incredibly efficient and supportive beta reader, coconut_ice22.

Disclaimer: we own nothing, not even a functioning brain.

Chapter 11 - Guess Who's Coming To Brunch

"Hi James. Apparently sex is working very well. House's therapist is very positive about it, and so is his general practitioner. He has decreased painkiller use, sleeps better, even his blood pressure has improved."

"It's good to know it's useful. Because it's killing me inside. I don't know how much longer I can do this."

"What is the problem? I thought you found him attractive?"

"I did, and still do. But...what I have makes me miss so much what I could have had. I never realized how much I was attracted to House. I positively tried to ignore it, frightened as I was of losing his friendship. I got myself a series of wives, girlfriends, and random dates, and I tried to help him date Cameron and Stacy. I would have helped him date Cuddy if I could have. Why was I so stupid? Why didn't I even try to have a love relationship with him...when it was still possible?"

"Looking back at the past is useful if we learn from it, but it can't be changed. What we can change is the future. What is it you want?"

"I want House to be healthy enough that he can actually love me. That we can have real, grownup sex if this is what we want, not this sanitized version that seems just a deviated form of physical therapy. This...this is destroying me."

"House's brain has improved more than we would ever had thought possible. Maybe he would be able to love you the way you want. Maybe you should ask him. You should have asked him before, but since you haven't and he's not dead you can ask him now."

"This doesn't make sense. House hardly ever sees a human being who is not me, except for the therapists. How can he understand love? I'm his whole life!"

"This is an important point, and one in which I had thought outside intervention was necessary. I'm glad you got to it yourself. It will make everything easier."

"What are you talking about?"

"You will know soon. Just don't make plans for next Sunday."

House was playing with his PSP, not noticing the fact that the apartment had been thoroughly cleaned and put in order, and that all the small objects usually covering every available surface had vanished. The doorbell rang, and a nervous Wilson opened the door without asking who it was. Foreman, Taub, Chase, Cameron, Kutner and Thirteen walked in, followed by Cuddy. Everybody was carrying food; Chase helped Wilson prepare the table, putting in the fridge what needed to stay cold and warming up what had been waiting too long. Soon they were having a pleasant brunch together.

House seemed more relaxed than expected, possibly because he was by now familiar with each of the people present, even though it was probably the first time he had had so much company at the same time. He sat near Wilson and occasionally sneaked his left hand under the table to touch him on the thigh for reassurance, which always was followed by Wilson squeezing back with his own right hand. Conversation remained light, concentrating mostly on hospital gossip on one side and House's progress on the other. Wilson had gotten used to Brown being Head of Oncology and Chase and Foreman sharing the guidance of Diagnostics (in the moment both of them where officially Vice Head). It used to hurt, but now his time at PPTH was a rapidly sinking memory.

With the table cleared except for the freshly brewed coffee, Wilson excused himself: House was tired. He needed his painkiller and a short nap.