Hosting at home
In the end, House did decide to invite both Cuddy and Wilson over. Usually he never bothered, and on the few occasions he did, it would just be a beer at Wilson's or a crappy late-night movie. But today felt different, and it had nothing to do with his birthday. Now that he and Cameron had actually moved in some of her stuff, it marked—in his own mind at least—nothing less than the next phase of his life. Stacy and he had lived together a full five years, and after they had ended he recognised in hindsight its epoch-defining nature. He experienced a similar sense now, except this time he didn't need hindsight at all.
Interestingly, despite the undoubted importance of medicine to his life and his very real dislike of most other human beings, the irony was not lost on him that he should seem to define his most significant steps through the prism of two human beings. Two women, no less.
Behind every great man is a great…
House scoffed softly to himself. Cameron had changed him, sure, but there were some things he couldn't even think in his own brain.
Anyway, tonight would be fun.
The front door opened and he glanced over from where he had been sitting in the armchair.
"Hey, sorry I took so long". Cameron looked in his direction over the top of two large paper bags tucked in the crook of each arm.
"When you said 'snacks and drinks', I didn't think you meant 'clear out the place'", remarked House, getting to his feet and making to offer a hand.
"No, honestly, I can carry-".
House ignored this protest and grabbed a bag from her. "How'd you even manage to open the outer door?".
"I'm very bendy, remember?", she smiled, following him into the kitchen, but slow enough not to match cane speed—in theory because she thought it to be subtly undermining of his progress if she just tore past at full pelt; in practice because it was nice to watch from behind the movement of his back and shoulders, indicators of his strength and height.
They both dumped their load onto the counter, but when House attempted to unpack, Cameron shooed him away. "It's your birthday. I'll do this. Go and get changed or grab a drink or something".
"What did you buy?", he asked, ignoring the suggestion to leave and hovering instead.
"Just snacks and beer".
"D'you get those nuts? Y'know, the ones with the sweet-spicy combo?".
Cameron wordlessly reached into the nearest bag, plucked from it his object of reference, and handed the nuts back over her shoulder.
"Yeah, nice, nice", he said, ripping open the packet, pouring out a handful, and crunching away. "I like nuts".
"Still cool with pizza? Can just order when Cuddy and Wilson arrive".
"Here". House poured out more nuts and held his palm in such a way that she could hoover them up without breaking stride.
He watched as Cameron busied herself stashing everything away. It was a funny thing: though she did very little of the cooking, she still took it upon herself to keep the kitchen neat and tidy. Before her entry into his apartment, things in this or that room tended to be thrown haphazardly into whichever cupboard or drawer lay to hand. But now a system seemed to exist, even if he didn't know quite how it ran.
"Anything in particular you'd like to do tonight?", she asked while dumping a load of beers into the bottom of the fridge.
House momentarily lost the ability to speak as he ogled her butt in a pair of tight denim shorts. Cameron's summer wardrobe, which he had never got the chance to witness last year, was beginning to make an appearance.
"Dunno. Movie, I guess", he mumbled eventually.
"What did you do last year?". She rose to her feet, shut the door, and went to stand next to him, having completely missed his heightened reaction.
"Nothing, obviously", he replied, surreptitiously eyeing her long legs under cover of widening the hole in the nuts packet. "Not really big into birthdays".
"Surprise, surprise. What are you big into?".
"You know exactly what I like".
"True", she nodded. "You'll be out on your bike at some point, huh? First ride of the summer?".
"Probably. I was thinking, actually, that you could join me, if you wanted?".
"Really?".
Cameron's expression gave him pause.
"Sure, why not?", he asked.
"Figured it would be your 'me' time, you know?".
"Nah. Would rather just share it with you".
Cameron pretended as if the nonchalance of this response had not caused her heart to skip a beat and played it cool instead. "That's…a possibility. Never did get a chance to wear the helmet and leathers you bought".
"Would just mean you hanging on the back for a while. Pretty punishing on the thighs".
"Well, if you can do it, so can I", she smirked up at him as he laced their fingers together.
"Hmm. Maybe we start off nice and short and gradually build up from there?".
"You're the expert. I'll bow to your judgement". The immunologist performed a little curtsy, though their hands remained intertwined. When she looked back up, she was surprised at the intensity of his expression. "Sup?".
"You look nice today, CB", he stated matter-of-factly, allowing his gaze to trail slowly down her body. The orange vest top ended just above the waistband of her shorts, exposing a tantalising stretch of pale skin to his eyes.
"As do you, House. In fact, that reminds me…", Cameron liberated her hands and ran them freely under his t-shirt, "…I've decided that I'm gonna need you shirtless when we're under this roof together".
"Err, what?".
"This thing", she tugged it upwards, "and others like it, need to be on the floor or in your drawers".
"A slightly silly request, no?".
"I don't make the rules, babe. Now, lift your arms".
She had rolled the shirt halfway up his torso when there was a knock on the door. "Ah, dammit!", she frowned, immediately stalking off to answer it, muttering all the while: "all I wanted was five minutes; too early…hi, Wilson!".
House swallowed, yanked down his t-shirt, and ambled through as his friend was shrugging out of his thin summer jacket.
"Hey, Cameron. Hi, pal. Didn't think you were into birthday celebrations".
"Blondie thought it might be nice", he answered, gesturing to the offender, who had taken Wilson's coat and was hanging it on the stand nearby.
"Speaking of blondies, I hope you're cool me inviting Amber".
At that, Wilson stepped to the side and the woman herself materialised as if by magic.
"Evening", she said, before adding to Cameron: "honestly, I'm not a hooker".
"I believe you", smiled the immunologist widely, appreciating this reference to their first meeting in the period after House's recovery. Cameron had returned to the apartment one afternoon, seen this unknown woman sitting on the couch, and leapt to a rather hasty conclusion. "Let me take your coat".
"Thank you", replied Amber, handing it over before nodding at House. "Hello again, Dr. House. Happy birthday. James has been telling me about your rehab progress. Quite impressive".
"Not as impressive as my huge wang, but I appreciate the sentiment".
Cameron punched him on the arm before indicating the sofa. "Make yourselves comfortable, guys. What d'you want to drink? Wine, beer, spirits, Coke…".
"Beer's great, thanks", answered Wilson, sinking into the couch alongside Amber.
"I'll have a glass of red if it's being opened. If not, I'm fine with whatever".
"No worries; will join you on the red. Greg?".
"I'll sort myself a whiskey". He journeyed to his drinks cabinet and grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which turned out to be Dalwhinnie.
Cameron, meanwhile, disappeared into the kitchen.
"Nice place you have", said Amber.
"Say's the woman who's been here before", replied House with an eyeroll as he sank into the armchair. "You weren't kidding", this was directed at Wilson, "she really is blonde".
"Sorry", began the oncologist quickly, "House has no concept of human manners".
"I gathered as much". Amber seemed not to mind and accepted her wine from the returning Cameron with a smile.
"So", declared House, Cameron lounging on the arm of his chair, "cross-species mating. Take notes", he patted his girlfriend's knee, "we'll be like Darwin in the Galápagos".
Wilson sighed, then said: "if we're different species, what does that make you two, then?".
"Dunno", mused Cameron, looking at House fondly. "I've always considered him to be extra-terrestrial".
"Like E.T. extra-terrestrial or Independence Day extra-terrestrial…?".
"What's the difference?", asked Amber.
House folded his arms. It was one thing to poke fun at his best friend; quite another to take it back with added interest.
"One's cute and benevolent; the other's evil and destructive".
"As in, 'destroys loads of cities and leaves humanity hanging by a thread' destructive", clarified Cameron helpfully.
"I don't think that's very fair", grumbled House. "I've never destroyed a city".
"Maybe more like a cross between the loveable bits of E.T. and the insane big brains of the aliens from Mars Attacks! You know?". Cameron squeezed his shoulder.
Before any more abuse could fly, however, there was another knock at the door and she leapt up to open it.
"Evening, all", said Cuddy, handing the bottle of wine she had brought to Cameron and embracing her. "This is a motley band, isn't it?".
"Cuddy, this is Amber". Wilson half got up before deciding that it was too formal.
"Hi, nice to finally meet you". They had actually seen each other before, in Wilson's office a while ago, but there had been no time for introductions, so Cuddy discounted it.
The two women shook hands before the Dean settled into the last space at the end of the sofa.
Cameron, who had headed through to the kitchen, returned with a glass of wine for Cuddy in one hand and a big bowl of English crisps in the other. Having dropped these off, she made a second trip for yet more snacks, which ended up on the coffee table. There was nowhere else to sit, so she resumed her perch on the armrest. But House hooked an arm around her waist and yanked her into his lap, ensuring that most of her weight settled on his strong left side. Since they had first lounged together that evening in the office last year, this was one of his favourite things to do. She was just the right size and weight.
"What's on the docket for tonight?", asked Wilson.
A moment or two passed in silence.
"Spin the bottle?", suggested House.
By late evening the party-goers were spread around the room. Wilson and Amber were talking on the armchair, heads close, in much the same position as their two hosts earlier; House was sitting on the windowsill strumming his guitar, every now and then taking a sip of whiskey; and Cameron and Cuddy occupied the sofa, an open bottle of wine within easy reach.
"So, you're moved in?", asked Cuddy.
"Not fully. Most of the stuff I care about is here, but still got furniture to sort out. Given the available space, there's a good chance it ends up in storage".
Cuddy looked around at the piles of books and cardboard boxes that still needed unpacking. "It could be a tight fit".
The other waved a hand in the air. "Won't be forever. Guess when the kids come we'll find a larger place".
Cuddy managed to simultaneously raise her eyebrows and lean in closer. "You're pregnant?", she whispered.
"Nah. Meant in the future. I wouldn't be drinking if I were, would I, doctor?".
"Yes, yes. Point taken", she shot back archly. "But you've…discussed that subject?".
"Yep. The morning after we went to Garcia's, House and I—well, really House—came up with a plan".
"What kind of plan?".
"A relationship agreement".
Saying it out loud felt weird and, sure enough, Cuddy scoffed into her wineglass. "I swear, he's such a freak".
"It was quite sweet, actually", smiled Cameron, gazing protectively at her partner by the window before continuing: "I mean, once you get over the fine print; in a way, it was reassuring to have everything planned out. Like, I genuinely don't think there'll be any surprises. Barring the occasional bout of insanity, obviously, but that'll happen regardless. Just the way he is".
"Mmm", nodded Cuddy. "'Expect the unexpected', et cetera".
"Exactly".
"God, you are so perfect for him", she declared, tilting her head and regarding Cameron with a fresh pair of eyes. "I knew you would be. Ever since last year".
"Dunno about that", shrugged the immunologist modestly, taking a sip of her wine.
"So you really discussed kids and family?".
Cuddy was still attempting to wrap her head around the possibility that her borderline crazy Head of Diagnostics would even countenance such a conversation topic. Not once had he struck her as the domestic type, settling down, planting roots, staying in one place with another person, raising children. But then, lots had changed over these last eighteen months, and every single one of these changes had, she knew, ultimately been for the better. Maybe, when House returned to PPTH full-time, it would transpire that he had lost a tiny fraction of his medical capacity, the consequence perhaps of a slight dilution of that characteristically grim single-mindedness. But, if so, he had obviously traded that fraction for something he regarded as exponentially more important: happiness.
Looking at him now, strumming his guitar with barely a care in the world, she sitting beside his loving girlfriend, Cuddy evaluated that as nothing less than the bargain of the century.
"We did. I made it clear that I want a family, marriage, the whole nine yards. You'll find it under 'Amendment Three, Clause Two, Paragraph A' of our contract. Jointly signed".
Cuddy couldn't help but laugh. "You're so traditional, Allison".
"Signing a contract is traditional?". She made a face.
"No, sure; was referring to your desire to have the husband and kids. Let me guess: you want the white picket fence out in the 'burbs, too?".
"Yes, ma'am. Give it all to me—doctor by day; soccer mom by night. Or, well, on the weekends".
"Mmm", grinned Cuddy, "sounds like you got it all figured out, huh?".
Cameron shrugged again, and once more her gaze drifted to House, who had his eyes closed as he plucked deliberately at the strings, the soft melody barely reaching them. "That's my plan. Sure, I know as well as anyone that life can get messy. But as long as I have that weirdo over there…nothing else compares".
"I'll drink to that—he is very weird".
The pair clinked glasses and relaxed back into the squeaky leather.