Chapter 6

House woke up in his bed in Wilson's loft on the day of his marriage. He stretched and scratched his stubbly chin. Well, he knew Cuddy had had her hair styled and had a professional manicure the day before. He assumed more beautification would proceed this morning. It was his turn to bow to the day's necessities. He climbed to his feet and listened to Wilson using the hair dryer. At least Wilson's hair was long enough again to make the effort worthwhile. Wilson's eyebrows had grown in, if anything, even bushier than before. His suit was still at least a size too big, but gradually, Wilson was regaining weight as well as his hair and his coloring was back to normal, from the nearly fluorescent greenish gray that characterized some of his time on chemotherapy.

House pulled the razor from the drawer. The last time he had been clean shaven was when he went to court before being sentenced to his last, three-month, prison term. Before that, it had been when he resigned from Princeton Plainsboro, after Cuddy refused to let him use methadone. He hoped she wouldn't be too startled. He lathered up, shaved off his stubble, then stepped into the shower to rinse it off.

It was time. House slipped on the white, starched shirt and tucked it into his blue trousers. His dress shoes shone in the bedroom light. He tied the conservative, blue-striped silk tie and shrugged into his suit jacket. Ready to face his family and friends, he took his very best cane, ebony, with a silver handle, and opened the bedroom door.

Wilson looked up and beamed. "You look great," he said. "Does Cuddy know you were coming nude, as it were?"

"No," House said, straight-faced. "Can we?"

"Behave yourself," Wilson said, resigned to playing straight man.

"Wilson, do you have the rings?"

"Yes, House, I have the rings."

"The wine glass? How about the head gear?"

"Motorcycle helmets?" Wilson asked, playing along.

House sighed.

"You know, the wine glass is actually a light bulb, easier and safer to smash, and it's wrapped in a towel and it's on the table under the huppah in the chapel. I have our yarmulkes***. Cuddy has the marriage license and the ketubah**** in her room. Are you all right?"

House looked down, as always uncomfortable discussing his feelings. He rubbed the handle of the cane with both hands for a moment. Then he said, with absolute conviction, "I regret not doing this years ago. Look at all the time I frittered away. We love each other, we loved each other all along, and I was so busy being, well, being me, that I never gave us the room to find the way to be together. So yeah, regrets, but mostly joy. And worry. Lisa could go into labor any time." He grinned. "So we'd better hurry."

They took the elevator down to the parking lot and settled in Wilson's car. Wilson backed out of his space. As Wilson turned onto the street, House said quietly, "Wilson, thank you. Thank you for everything."

Wilson pulled up to a red light and turned to face his friend. "No, House, thank you."

-tbc-