When he emerged from the bedroom, fully cleaned and wearing the usual attire, House was still absent mindedly rubbing his thigh simply because that was the only thing on his mind at the time.

Making his way into the kitchen, the diagnostician looked at the clock and saw that it was ten passed eleven which meant that Cuddy and Wilson would be around in an hour or so for lunch.

It was strange thinking of the dean of medicine as a luncheon companion especially considering how much crap they had been through over the years, of course the same could be said for Wilson. It was no secret, that from the day they met the oncologist had always been somewhat of an enabler but then again, House was the one who got him out of jail the first time.

Ah, precious irony and yet, after all that the two had seemed to find some level ground to stand on which was good but, how long could it last? That thought made House long for the sound of his inner voice better known as his conscience which had been an annoyance ever since he was a kid but had proven to be a loyal companion especially when there was nobody else around.

Limping over to the fridge, House opened the door and leaned in to get a better view of what food there was to work with. The diagnostician mentally congratulated himself for not forgetting to go shopping the night before otherwise they would have had to settle for take out and there was only so much pizza and Chinese that could be consumed in a life time.

Finding what he was looking for, House turned away from the fridge, closed the door and headed over to the counter in preparation to cook.

An hour or so later, there was a knock at the door which could have only been from one person. Unfortunately, House was still preoccupied in the kitchen so rather then move away from his work, Greg decided to yell over to his friends that the door was unlocked and encouraged them to come in the most direct way he knew how.

*************************************************************

As they entered the apartment and made themselves comfortable at the table per House's instructions, Cuddy and Wilson decided to take up where they had left off outside.

"You have to tell him."

"You're his best friend."

"You've known him longer."

"That's it? That's your argument?"

At this, Wilson blushed slightly and tried to hide his embarrassment while crossing his arms over chest while craning his neck over to one side so that he could get a better look inside the kitchen.

However, at that exact moment House had finished his work and was now carrying the culinary masterpiece over to the table with a satisfied smirk covering his face.

"Feast your eyes on the most delicious array of sight, smells and taste the world has ever seen."

"Sandwiches! They look good to me."

As Wilson reached over and tried to grab one of the prime specimens to put on his plate, he was cut off by House's hand which now held his own in a death grip.

"Not so fast pal. These are not just any sandwiches, these happen to be the best sandwiches in the world and each one is made with a secret ingredient."

"Oh really? And what would that be…love?"

At this question, House arched an eye brow and rolled his eyes while gesturing to the sandwiches.

"it's a secret! I'm not at liberty to say. Go ahead dig in."

As they ate their lunch, a comfortable silence filled the room which hadn't been there in quite sometime. In fact, this particular comfort had only become a constant between them over the last couple of weeks. As he watched his friends devour each and every bite of their meal, House had grown content with himself. True, making calzones weren't that difficult to do but Wilson had always done the cooking in the past and now House was returning the favor.

"So, what do you think?"

Exchanging a look, Wilson and Cuddy turned to face their friend with the same look covering their face and the same thought in mind.

"Incredible."

"Thank you."

"House, where'd you learn to cook like that?"

"Well, I got the recipe from Henry who got it when he was in Italy a few years back. Pretty good huh?"

The look on Wilson's face made House stop in mid rant and glare at his friend in confusion.

"What?"

"Are you alright?"

"Of course I am. Why do you…"

"Your leg."

Peering down at the injured right thigh, House only now realized he had been rubbing his leg vigorously ever since he had sat down at the table.

"Sorry, force of habit."

(Don't worry. This is going somewhere. I know you'll enjoy it. As always, thank you for reviewing and more to come soon.)