CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The following Monday, House had returned to work full-time after his crowbar 'kiss of death.' But now, it was Thursday, and his double date with Debra, Wilson and Cameron was just two days away. He was nervous; nervous as hell.

"…But if there is no blood in the urine then it can't be…" Chase said.

"Right, I know that, but in this case it wasn't…" Foreman butt in.

Chase and Foreman had been bickering back and forth for the past ten minutes about their latest patient, but he was only giving them half of his attention.

Tuesday of that week, House cornered Wilson in the bathroom in a panic about what he should wear to the restaurant. This particular Italian restaurant they were going to was jacket required, but he felt his work jackets were inappropriate. Of course, he spent several minutes literally knocking his forehead against the wall because he had never obsessed with clothing and didn't understand why he was now. He thought he had some loose brain cells and needed to put them back in order.

When they went clothes shopping that day at lunch, House tried on several jackets, all of which were fine but House didn't like them for whatever reason. 'Sleeves too short…' or 'not long enough.' He was really testing Wilson's patience. But, they finally settled on a chocolate brown one with ecru-colored thin vertical strips, a matching ecru colored shirt and brown/tan/ecru diagonal striped tie.

"House, what do you think?" Chase asked House. "HOUSE! Are you listening?"

"Huh, wha…oh, yeah, give him Predisone and test his creatine levels again."

"But, if we do that and it's…" Foreman started to say but House cut him off.

"Just do it will ya!" House barked.

The two men left his office, and at first felt a little guilty for snapping at them the way he did, but that lasted only a tenth of a second. He had been thinking so hard about the date he was oblivious to everyone around him, although he'd still catch what they'd want and help them anyway. If he were any nicer, the two would have known something was up and bugged him to death about it and he just couldn't stand to have that happen. Of course Cuddy knew, but he was okay with that, since she swore two clinic hours that she'd not say a word to the two men.

Cameron called him Wednesday to see how he was because they hadn't talked since Debra was in the hospital the Saturday before. It went something like this:

"Hey, House. It's Cameron."

"Hi," House answered then was silent.

So was Cameron. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, what I always do on Wednesday nights."

"Oh, hooker night?" she said, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, exactly," House said. He returned Cameron's laugh, but it was more of a nervous laugh, not a funny ha-ha laugh. "Nah, just sitting here watching that Cheers guy go through a peanut factory. Man, what a job."

Now it was Cameron's turn to be quiet for a moment. "Hey, Shrek III is coming out! I sooo want to go see that movie!"

"Oh, ok. Tell me how it was, okay?" He hesitated a moment. "Cameron?" he whispered sexily with a grin.

"Yeah?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Just an old pair of…House!"

The two of them couldn't contain their laughter, and it calmed House down just a bit. Maybe their date would go okay after all. They spent another hour on the phone, but after ten minutes, and House knew it would be a long conversation, he put the call on speaker. They talked about nothing in particular, but it must have been good enough to carry a conversation that long.

Friday afternoon, the day before the date, House was on his way to get his haircut and beard trimmed; he usually did the beard himself but since he was there he'd have that done, too. Cuddy stopped him in the hallway.

"Sorry, have a date with my hooker. You can join us if you'd like," House told her. He wasn't serious, he just knew it would get her to get to the point quick so he could leave.

"I've been thinking about something. Do you think Debra would want to be my assistant – part-time. That way, I'd be able to keep an eye on her and she won't be home alone, and it'd give her something to do. I know she was bored to death before she was released.

House thought it was a good idea, but a bad idea. He didn't want Debra to rush herself while she recouped, but he knew she was right.

"Sure, I'll ask her tomorrow night."

He went home, ate a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich, topped it off with a shot of Scotch, played his piano for about an hour, shuffled back and forth in his living room, downed a shot of Scotch, changed the sheets on his bed (that was subconscious; he hadn't even known what he did until an hour later), took a shot of Scotch, shuffled back and forth in his living room, took a shot of Scotch, rearranged his CD collection in alphabetical order by artist, and lastly, before he found himself on his recliner with his feet on the back, legs in the air and his head on the ottoman, a shot of Scotch.

"I neeeeed toooo cawwwl sumbawdy!" he gurgled, his head hanging over the back of the ottoman.

He reached into his pocked for his cell phone and dialed Wilson.

"What?! Go to sleep, House!" Wilson said even before he knew who was on the other end of the line.

"How'd you know it wuzz mee? You're goooood."

"Shhh, Debra's asleep. She had another rough day today. Did you get your hair cut and beard shaved?"

"Yep a roonie doonie!" House answered then he burst into a loud laugh. "An' why are you tellinnnn' me to be qui hiccup et? She can't hear me."

"House, go to bed! I'll call before we leave for the restaurant."

"Bu'…ok, fine," House said and hung up the phone.

House lay on the ottoman flailing his arms like he was orchestrating and started to laugh at nothing in particular. When he tried to get up a few minutes later he found himself on the floor with his face in the carpet.

"Hmmmph…I need to quit drinking."

Needless to say, by the time he got to bed it was 2:45 a.m. He set the alarm for 12 noon and was asleep within five minutes.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

The call had woken Debra up but she just moaned and rolled over facing Wilson before she slept again. Wilson couldn't go back to sleep because too many thoughts were going on in his head. How would the date go? Would House behave himself? Will I make a fool out of myself?

He was also thinking of what Debra had asked him earlier in the week. When she mentioned them sharing a rental property, furnished, he was seriously considering it; she made a very good presentation. They'd decided to rent a two bedroom apartment leased monthly and share rent and all utilities, on the stipulation that they'd each have their own bed. Neither one of them said it, but they were both thinking it: 'Yep, two bedrooms so House won't grow suspicious of our relationship if it did move forward.'

Wilson would start looking on Monday. He'd tell House about it in about two years.