A red checker skipped over two black checkers and landed at the top of the board. "King me!" Cuddy cried, her glowing triumph echoed across the room and bounced back, ringing through House's ears.
He sighed in defeat and his eyes wandered over to the mound of black checkers Cuddy had piled by her elbow. Another day, another annihilation. All the more reason for her to gloat when he delivered her war trophies. Hell, she had more than earned them. Hopefully she wouldn't yap to everyone how she earned them.
"Did you take some secret advanced checkers class?" House asked, almost serious. This was the third time she had effortlessly massacred him and his game on the sixty-four squares. "Where did you learn to play like that?"
"In playing against someone like you, I have to think like you," she answered. "I know you'll try every trick in the book and invent a few new ones, so I made sure to be ready for them."
"Wait a second...you're saying you beat me by playing like me?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying." Her eyes sparkled like a sunset across the ripples of the ocean.
House couldn't suppress the chuckle and ear to ear grin that answer brought out. "Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. You sneaky little wench. You're becoming more and more like me every day. Tell me, how does that feel?"
"Right now it feels fabulous. I think this latest victory has earned me a dozen more roses."
"A dozen more roses you shall get. Would you like another pound of chocolates too?" House began to gather up the checker and put them in the box.
"No thank you. Roses don't have calories."
"Key lime pie does," he said, the grin turning mischievous. The board was set in the box, covered, and set aside. "Don't read nutrition label, you might faint."
"I'm sure I can find a way to work it off."
"Well said. Would you like some dessert now?"
"I'll take a piece of pie now. The real dessert can wait until later."
"Wow, that was rich," Cuddy gasped as she finished her pie. A few errant crumbs remained scattered on the plate. "And good. That was the best pie I've ever had."
House set about polishing off the few bites that lingered on his plate. "It's too bad those gourmet yahoos feel the need to quadruple the price of a ten dollar pie to justify their existence."
"What about the overpriced champagne?"
"You bought it, not me. If you insist on bringing diamond-studded ridiculously expensive fizzy fermented grape juice over to my apartment for me to guzzle like water, who am I to stand in your way?"
Indeed, Cuddy thought. There was something else she had to know. "If you don't mind me asking, how much did the pie cost?"
"Forty-five dollars, plus tax of course."
"Was it worth it?"
"Watching you wolf it down like it was going out of style, I'd have to say yes."
"What about you?" Cuddy inquired with a tilt of her head. "What did you think about it?"
"If you must know it was a little too tart for my taste," he said with complete honesty. "Then again, I bought the pie for you, not me. You liked it, therefore, it was money well spent."
"How high of a price were you willing to go?"
"As high as it took. As it turned out, that was the most expensive key lime pie they had. They had some kind of chocolate cream pie for about seventy dollars, but it would have put us both in a chocolately-smooth coma."
"That probably would have been way too rich. The key lime was wonderful. I'll trade you the champagne for the pie."
"Five hundred dollars worth of fizz for real graham cracker crust? Are you sure about that?"
"You like the champagne, I like the pie. It's a win-win situation."
"I can't argue with your brilliant logic. Just leave me a slice, if you would be so kind."
"You said you didn't like it."
"I said it was a little tart, not completely inedible. A little slice, pretty pretty please."
"I will."
"Pie today, Godivas tomorrow. Are those nicely toned legs of yours hollow, Lisa?"
"I'm not going to eat them all at once," she said, gathering their plates and stacking them in the sink. The dinner dishes, still covered in steak sauce, were still there. They could stay there. Why House hadn't broke down and bought a dishwasher was an unsolved mystery. "But I know what I'm going to have for dessert for the next week or so. How about some coffee?"
"Sure."
Cuddy turned the heat on under the kettle, then resumed her place at the table. She waited until he looked up, reached across and took his hand in hers. He turned to face her, rested his chin in his other hand, a strange mixture of amusement, pleasure, and questioning played into his crooked smile.
"Yes, Lisa?"
"Thank you for dinner."
"You're welcome. Thank you for playing chef."
"You're quite welcome. I'm glad we got to spend this day together," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Just you and me."
"It was a good idea," he said. "Lousy weather and all."
"It was a very good idea, Greg."
"You should listen to me more often."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Please do," House grinned, entwining his fingers around hers like puzzle pieces. "But don't quit now. The day isn't over yet."
