Sessions 54: Meet Mrs. House

"Gregory, it's your mother!"

That voice, that phrase. It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on them. House bolted off of Cate like he was a randy teenager caught fucking his girlfriend in the basement of his parents' house while they were supposed to be out at the movies. His eyes were wild with…with… she had no idea. She couldn't even name it. Her mind was still caught up in the haze of their desire for one another and her body was still reeling from his magical touch. Her most intimate parts hummed in a cacophony of unreleased pleasure. Her short breaths now coming from trying to redress quickly instead of the unadulterated passion she was feeling just a few seconds ago. He had tossed her shirt at her. She couldn't believe his mother was here, right now, this very minute. She pulled her shirt over her head trying to fix her hair to make it look like she hadn't just almost had sex with the woman's son right on the living room couch when she met his mother for the very first time. Good God, did they have the worst timing in the world!

He had pulled his shirt over his head not bothering to fix his hair because he never did. Instead he adjusted the crotch of his jeans taming his arousal for her. She whimpered, recalling the feel of it pressed against the juncture of her thighs and she bit her lip to remind herself that she wouldn't be anywhere near it for at least another couple of hours. Oh God, how she had wanted him. His touch nearly sent her cascading over the edge so many times that she thought she might go mad if she didn't have him inside of her right away. How in the world was this fair? She took a deep breath as his eyes met hers for a brief moment before he opened the door.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" he said in a voice that Cate barely recognized. He sounded like a schoolboy. She was thoroughly intrigued at how he could go from raging sex god to petulant little boy in two seconds flat.

"Hello, sweetheart, " his mother said in an elegant but sweet voice, taking his face into her hands and pulling him down to kiss him on the cheek. "I've missed you so." She had to be about a foot shorter than him because he had to hunch down to accept her kiss. She was a petite woman, comfortably well-dressed and neatly coiffed. Cate could see the resemblance in their smiles and wondered briefly what his real father looked like.

Cate watched him struggle for a second and then embrace his mother in a quick hug before he stepped back to allow her to enter the apartment. She swept in without any flourish or airs looking around as if she had never set foot in the place. Cate crossed her arms protectively over her chest as a brisk chill followed her in from the hallway. The cool air did its last efforts to kill the heated desire that had been coursing through her and she cursed herself for not having a bra on and looking like a hung-over teenager after a kegger. Not the first impression she wanted to make.

House stood there awkwardly for a long moment before he came to his senses and closed the door. He limped about two steps back into the room and stood there unmoving. Cate waited for him to say something but nothing came. Doing her best to appear every ounce of the professional woman that she was, Cate came around the sofa and extended her hand to introduce herself. "Hello Mrs. House, I'm Cate. I'm Greg's girlfriend."

His blue eyes went wide and he dropped his head when his mother turned to him with a look of astonishment that disappeared as quickly as it came. The shock was replaced by a warm smile as she reached her hand out graciously accepting her handshake. "Cate, it is a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Blythe."

"It's lovely to finally meet you, Blythe," Cate said coming along side House. They looked at each other and both bit back mortified smiles. He had on her T-shirt and she had his. Thank God they were both his or this could have been horribly more awkward then it was already.

"Mom, Cate lives here with me, " he said wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her to his side. She could feel his tension in his hands as his fingers tightened against her side. She placed both of her hands on top of his to calm him.

"Well, it's about time sweetheart, " Blythe said looking him fully in the eye. He stared back at her with hooded blue eyes. He muttered something unintelligible and nodded his head. This was clearly not easy for him.

"Why don't we all come sit down and I'll get us some wine, " Cate suggested.

"That sounds wonderful, dear, " Blythe accepted. "It smells like you were just about to sit and eat, I'm so sorry to interrupt." House cleared his throat and Cate squeezed his fingers before stepping out of the curve of his arm. She caught his eyes with her gaze silently telling him that everything would be alright. She could see the tension in the lines around his eyes relax slightly but the firm set of his jaw told her he needed something much stiffer than wine to drink.

"No worries," Cate said pleasantly. "I'm sure there is plenty food to add one more." Cate looked at him for confirmation. He nodded and ran his hand over the back of his head.

"How much longer does the chicken need, Greg?" Cate asked casually as if they hadn't forgotten it was bubbling away on the stove.

He came to all of a sudden. "I'll take care of it, " he said moving in the direction of the kitchen.

Cate placed her hand firmly on his chest to stop him. "You sit and talk with your mother; I'll get the drinks and finish dinner."

His eyes flashed annoyance at her for seeing through his evasive maneuver but he relented when she angled her chin at him telling him that he shouldn't challenge her. "Just put the pasta on and warm up the bread, " he told her. "The wine's already open."

Blythe sat in the leather club chair that they aptly dubbed Wilson's chair, to the left of the sofa and Greg sat in his usual spot on the sofa. Satisfied that he would actually hold a conversation with his mother, Cate went into the kitchen and put the water up to boil. She poured two glasses of wine and a new glass of bourbon for him. She carried both glasses out to them receiving a grateful look from him as he took an immediately gulp. "If you'll excuse me for a second, " she said hurrying back into the bedroom to change into a pair of jeans…most importantly a bra… and her green sweater from before. In the bathroom, she ran a brush through her hair and then came back out to the kitchen.

"… I was just driving and came upon your exit on the turnpike and I found myself here, " Blythe explained holding onto her wine glass.

"Why were you driving all the way to Aunt Sara's at night?" House asked with concern in his voice.

Cate put the pasta into the boiling water and took a large sip of her wine before coming to sit beside House on the sofa. She tucked her feet under her as she had done not a half an hour ago. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and placed his hand on her knee rubbing soft circles with his palm against the denim telling her that he was ironically thinking the same thing.

Blythe looked into her glass. "I was supposed to leave on Wednesday and be there for Thanksgiving, but I…" her voice trailed off softly. She took a breath and composed herself. "I just cannot be in that house any longer."

House regarded her curiously. "Why?"

"Your father is everywhere in that house. And I can't stand it, " she said flatly.

He drew his eyebrows together. "You love that house. What exactly can't you stand?"

His mother sighed. "Everything. Everywhere I turn, I'm reminded of him. Sometimes, it makes me smile; sometimes I want to scream, because I can't stand the sofa. I hate it. He picked it out and God help me, Gregory, I've always hated it." She laughed and took a sip of her wine on a sigh. "I loved that man for fifty years but he had the worst taste in furniture."

"Among other things, " House muttered. He received an admonishing look from his mother. "So you just got in the car and drove?" he said diverting the subject.

"I jut got in the car and drove, " she said simply and then smiled. "Besides, I missed you and we didn't get to see each other nearly long enough at the funeral after that ridiculous mess with the stained glass window you and James created."

Cate slanted her head at House. "Stained glass window?"

House shifted in his seat under Cate's scrutiny and his mother's arched eyebrow. "Wilson threw a bottle of Jack at a stained glass window, " he said in a barely audible voice.

"They were having an argument, Lord knows about what, " Blythe offered for him. "And James got a little hot under the collar."

House chuckled. "A little?"

Blythe fixed him with a trademark motherly stare and he shut up. "I'm sure this one pushed his buttons until he cracked. It cost them $5000 dollars to avoid being arrested."

"Again?" Cate squeaked. "Jesus Greg…"

He rolled his eyes and took his Vicodin out of his pocket. He popped two and without any hesitation finished the last of his bourbon. The timer when off signaling the pasta was finished. Cate went to get up but he pushed her back down and went into the kitchen himself leaving the two women to converse alone without him.

"So Cate, what is you do for a living?" Blythe asked conversationally.

"I'm a psychiatrist. I work at the hospital with Greg, " she explained.

Blythe smiled. "Oh really. Do you two have occasion to work directly together?"

"No, not really, " she chuckled giving it some thought. "It would be interesting though." Cate caught his eye from the kitchen. He had a devilish grin on his face and she laughed. "I do therapy with my regular patients and rotations in the ER and Clinic. His patients are usually on death's door, so crazy doesn't usually enter into the equation, unless you count him and his team."

"Oh, he's not crazy, " Blythe disagreed vehemently. "He's unique in his own special way."

Cate smiled warmly. "Yes, he is certainly one of a kind."

"Alright, enough you two, " he called out the them. "I'm blushing in here." Cate looked at Blythe and the shared a gentle laugh. She felt remarkably comfortable around his mother so far. Her demeanor was pleasant and she could tell that she clearly loved her son. Cate saw him take out plates and silverware and went into the kitchen to retrieve them to set the table.

"Greg, this is the first time we'll actually get to use this table, " Cate said excitedly.

"I know, " he placated her. She knew he didn't really care. He'd rather eat at the coffee table in front of the TV. He only agreed to the table because she promised him they could have sex on it.

"We just got the table last week, " she explained as she passed through the living room. "And then we both came down with a stomach virus so eating anything anywhere was out of the question."

Blythe rose from Wilson's chair and made her way over to the table running her hand over the dark stained oak surface. "It's charming." She chose a seat on the left side of the table and sat down as Cate set the table. "I think the last time I was here was for about ten minutes in 1995. Greg was never one for sharing his domain."

Cate paused and considered the contradiction. He had welcomed her into his domain the first night they had gone out together. He had invited her in and never let her go, in fact.

"I never wanted Dad here, " he said carrying in the large bowl of pasta and chicken. Cate met him half way and took it from his hands before he reached the table. His hand went immediately to rub his thigh. His leg was bothering him, probably more out of stress than anything else. "Could you bring the rest in?" he asked her quietly so his mother couldn't hear. He hated more than anything to appear weak. She placed her hand on his arm and went back into the kitchen for the bread and wine.

When Cate returned, House was sitting at the head of the table and dishing out her plate while Blythe was patiently waiting for her to arrive to start eating. She ran her hand over the top of his shoulders before she sat down. He gave her a tiny imperceptible smile and placed her plate down in front of her.

"This looks incredible, " his mother said as she picked up her fork.

"Greg made it, " Cate said proudly. "Your son is quite the cook."

He shrugged and poured more wine. "It really isn't all that challenging."

Cate rolled her eyes. "Now, he's just being shy."

Blythe chuckled. "You never could accept a compliment, dear." She cut into her meal and tasted, savoring the flavors around her fork. "Delicious. So tell me, Greg, how long have you been hiding this lovely young woman from me?"

House looked at Cate and shrugged. "Two months now?"

She smiled. "Yes, two months give or take." She knew he had the exact tally breakdown of months, weeks, and days in his head.

"And you met at the hospital?" she asked drawing him into conversation.

"Actually, we met when Cate was at the South Pole, " he told her eliciting a curious raised eyebrow.

"I was there doing research on long term isolation on the human psyche, " Cate explained. "I almost died from a mysterious illness…"

"She had a broken toe, " he said stealing her thunder.

"He saved my life ," she said succinctly.

"How do you die from a broken toe?" his mother asked curiously.

He rolled his eyes making it seem like it was no big deal and Cate gasped in mock horror. "Explain why, " she said pinching his shoulder.

He grinned and then winked at her. "A broken bone can throw clots that can shut down organ systems."

Cate nodded her head vindicated and shifted to tuck her foot underneath her rear end to get more casually comfortable.

He looked down at her foot and pulled on her little toe. "And still with the no socks?" He glanced back at his mother. "The whole time I'm diagnosing her she wouldn't take off the socks, I could have solved her problem days before if I could only have seen the toe… now I can't get her to keep them on."

"We have a gorgeous fireplace that makes it toasty warm in here, " she said coyly. "I like to be barefoot."

Blythe nodded appreciatively. "I know exactly what you mean. I dread when the fall comes and I have to start wearing socks or stocking with my shoes. There's just something about having your toes free that makes all the difference in the world."

Greg was starting to relax and ease into conversation as they continued to eat and drink. They chatted about miscellaneous things from the weather to the past presidential election. It was interesting to discover that Blythe was a staunch Republican, seeing as how Cate had been a life-long Democrat because her parents were in teaching and law enforcement. Greg of course had many opinions but distinctly didn't care either way taking the stand that both sides sucked equally as much.

They finished dinner and retired to the couch for more conversation. Around 9:00pm, Blythe looked at her gold watch on her wrist. "It's getting late. I should go see if I can find myself a hotel to stay in for the night, " she announced preparing to leave.

"What? No, " Cate said vehemently.

"Mom, you don't have to find a hotel, " he told her. "We have a guest bedroom now."

"Honey, I know how you don't like to have anyone stay, " she insisted gently. "I'll just stay at the little place your father and I found a few years ago."

"No." He looked at her sternly. "You're staying here with us. Period."

Blythe looked shocked by his insistence. "Well, then. I guess I'm staying."

His mother was tired from her drive and they saw to her settling into the tiny room next to theirs before getting ready for bed themselves. Cate changed back into his t-shirt and pants and climbed into bed waiting for him to come back after locking up. He slipped his jeans off in front of her and draped them over the footboard after taking out his Vicodin and placing it on his nightstand. She could see his scar from under the hem of his boxers but he didn't seem to care anymore which made her happy that he was finally feeling comfortable about it around her. He stepped into a pair of his own jammie pants and climbed into bed next to her. He lay on his back with his arm draped over his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, " he said remorsefully.

Cate propped herself up on her elbow and looked down into his face. "What for? You didn't do anything to be sorry for?"

He shook his head. "My mother, staying here, dinner… everything."

Cate placed her hand on his chest and touched her lips to his. "Greg, it's fine. Everything is ok."

"I never expected her to just show up, "' he said. "She never does anything spontaneous like that.'

"Give her a break, she just lost her husband, " she told him. "Things have got to be weird for her. She wants to see you, to connect to a sense of normalcy."

"This isn't normal for us, " he said shaking his head and rolling his eyes to look up at her.

"Maybe she wants it to be normal for you, " she said playing with his hair. "Would that be so bad?"

"No, " he said. He rolled onto his side and ran his hand down her ribs to her waist. He leaned in to kiss her.

She dipped her tongue in with a little purr. "Wanna pick up where we left off, " she suggested trailing her hand up and down his chest.

"My mother's next door, " he said shyly.

She pushed hi m back gently against the mattress and draped her leg over his as she ran her toes up the side of his leg and kissed him slowly. "I'll be quiet. I promise."

He waggled his eyebrows at her, his errant hands slipping up the edge of her shirt to fondle her tightening nipple. "You normally get loud?"

She giggled. "Sometimes." She kissed him again. "So what do you say?"

He smiled and cupped the back of her head with his other hand. "I don't know…"

Slowly she trailed her hand down the length of his shirt to the edge of his pants. She slipped her hand inside the waistband and stroked him to hardness. He groaned at her feather light touch.

The toilet flushed in the bathroom not ten feet away and they both immediately rolled away from each other turning out the bedside lamps.

"Uh, yeah.." she muttered.

"See what I mean, " he murmured.

He pulled her close to him spooning her to his front. "I love you."

She chuckled. "I love you too."

"G'night, " he said into her hair.

She laced her fingers with his against her belly. "G'night."