House and Cuddy have been dating for about a mwezi now and they wanted to celebrate there mwezi anniversary. And as they waited for their chakula none of them alisema anything and the silence was broken kwa the waiter.
“Grilled steak, mnofu with Béarnaise Sauce and French fries.” The waiter said, startling them a little.
“Gee! What are wewe a zombie?” House paused, putting a hand to his heart, “I almost had a moyo attack for Pete’s sake!”
The waiter alisema nothing and kept his stern, composed face to the task of serving them as properly as one could in this situation. He put down their plates in front of them and left saying, “The chef hopes the amount of oil and siagi in this meal will make your cholesterol jump to the roof.”
“Yeah, I don’t believe that see, the Chef knows me and he definitely wouldn’t hope this extremely rare condition of 'one regular meal to cause death' to happen to me.” House assured the boy.
The waiter decided the older man wasn’t worth the fight and went back to his business.
“Why can't wewe be nice to someone ?” She asked, taking a French fries from House’s plate.
“Hey that’s mine!” He tried to take it back but she had gulped it down already. So he aliiba one from her plate instead.
“Let’s share.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’m not sharing!” He started to rant, “Also, wewe can only have sex with me because I’m the only man who has ever gotten wewe to climax so high, almost every time.”
“You’re not that good, House.” She retorted, attacking her steak.
“There are some pretty fine men out there, House.” She took a bite of her steak, “I could always sell myself to another one of your kind.”
“You could but wewe wouldn’t, because I don’t share. I’ve stolen wewe before, I can do it again.” He stated matter-of-factly.
“And then you’re going to say I always run back to you?” She asked, handing him her empty glass of wine for him to refill it.
He took the bottle in his hands and did so, slowly, never leaving her eyes, “Like I said, I’m not the sharing type.”
“You are sharing right now.” She said, talking about the wine.
“I share things with you, for wewe and for me. There’s always reason as to why I might be sharing.” He said, putting the bottle back on the table.
“And wewe think that would prevent me from looking somewhere else?” She asked, taking a sip of her glass.
“I think wewe wouldn’t even go that far.” He said, very serious. And within the inayofuata five minutes, they mostly ate in silence.
“Let’s assume I would?” She broke the silence, knowing there was no point in trying to have him admit whatever that was on his mind other than with a subjectivity expressed in metaphors.
“I would never share, no matter what.” He repeated.
“So wewe would rather die than see me with someone else?” She asked, very curious.
“I would make wewe miserable and your life a living hell.” He remarked, never leaving her eyes.
“That’s very hypocritical from your part.” She paused, “Tell me if I’m getting this right, wewe wouldn’t want me to find happiness unless it’s with you?”
House replied, “Since wewe have never gotten over me, I can only conclude that wewe and I are meant to be and that no matter how much wewe think wewe could find happiness with someone else, wewe would still be miserable. I would just be adding fuel to the moto of your miserable existence because like I said, I can’t share you.”
“You don’t get to pick a timeline for these sorts of things to happen, House.” She said, “Maybe I just had to see your bastard self one last time to realize wewe and I are everything except meant to be.”
“You want dessert?” He asked, looking away, this conversation wasn’t over though.
“No, thanks.” She said, “I need a smoke.” She added, getting up.
“I’m going to pay.” He mumbled.
“Gregory House!” House heard being called after kwa a person with a very pronounced French accent. “You’re here, buddy!”
“Hi Francis.” House nodded, turning around to face the chef.
“I haven’t seen wewe in like four years au something!” Francis tried to picture a precise timeline.
“Yeah, I had to go away for a while. I was tired of your horrible face.” House smiled.
“Haha! wewe haven’t changed. Why didn’t wewe tell me wewe were here?” He said, hugging House.
“My tarehe isn’t really going too well so, I figured-“He tried, being quite honest.
“Are wewe on a tarehe with who I think it is?” Francis asked, smiling.
House nodded, “I was on my way to pay actually-“ he tried.
“Non non non non! wewe are not paying for anything tonight!” Francis paused, “You’ve never had to pay for chajio, chakula cha jioni here before, wewe won’t have to pay this time either and let me add this: especially tonight!”
“The bottle of wine is a Saint-Émilion worth about $300.” House stated.
“Okay, wewe pay for the wine but the rest is on me.” Francis said, “And I’m sorry but wewe two aren’t leaving until you’ve tried my last dessert, I’ve named it the House of Love.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” House asked, bewildered.
“I am not!” Francis smiled.
“And this place is the House of an idiot.” House shook his head in disbelief.
Francis laughed, “Aren’t we all idiots, House?”
House smiled at that familiar sentence, it reminded him of why he was sort of friendly and kind with this great cook.
“I’m going to go outside and urged her back inside for kitindamlo then.” House said, on his way out.
He saw her at the entrance, she was trying to light her cigarette but the wind wasn’t in favor of heavy smoking.
“Francis…”He tried, “The chef wants us to-“
“There’s a bus coming this way, maybe I should go home.” She said.
“House of Love!” He exclaimed.
“What?” She eyed him suspiciously, letting go of her attempts to light her cigarette.
“That’s his last creation, the kitindamlo he wants us to try.” His eyes were almost pleading.
“He called one of his desserts the House of Love?” Cuddy stood there, bewildered.
“I know! How stupid is that!” He smiled, scratching his head.
“I don’t know.” She said.
“Come on, wewe hate me, I get it.” He paused, “But at least wewe can get free kitindamlo from one of the best chefs I’ve had the chance to meet.”
Suddenly, Chef Francis barged in on them and said, “Come on House!” He paused, “Oh hello, Mademoiselle Cuddy, it’s a pleasure meeting you.”
“How do wewe know my-“She tried.
“Come on, kitindamlo is on its way!” He added and went back inside.
House had his hands in his pocket and shrugged, “I think that was zaidi of an order than an offer. Besides I prefer your punda to get bigger than wewe getting lung cancer.”
She chuckled, “Okay.” She said.
“Cool.” He said, inaonyesha her the way back inside.
They went back to their meza, jedwali in silence and Francis brought the kitindamlo on a single plate to them.
“And for our two lovebirds, here’s my new special.” He started, loud enough for the entire room to hear, “House of Love! A molten chokoleti cake with some caramel, karmeli ice cream on the side and two cinnamon flavored Candy canes on the juu of the cake.”
House and Cuddy saw that the two Candy canes were forming a heart.
“Oh no, wewe didn’t…”House’s voice trailed off.
“I’ve made this recipe and named it after the man seated at this table, ladies and gentlemen.” He paused, “This is the man right here, Dr. Gregory House, the greatest jerk I have ever met and an amazing friend.” He then winked at House and Cuddy, “You two have a great kitindamlo tonight.” He then turned to House and murmured, “Give me the three hundred for the wine, now.”
House sighed and gave Francis his VISA card, “You know the canes aren’t necessary anymore.”
“I’ve noticed but your cane is now invisible… just like hers has always been.” He said, “Now I’m going to yell at your waiter. Have a good nigh.” He told Cuddy and went back to his kitchen.
“I have a cane?” She paused, not sure what to think of that, “And it’s invisible?”
“Yeah, I used to tell him your heels were like my cane.” He trailed off, “A way to cope with life and discriminations." He paused, "But he would say that my cane was there and could be seen. So now that I don’t have a cane anymore, it’s invisible just like your heels.”
“I think I’m going to eat because that is way too philosophical for me.” She said, taking a bite of the molten chokoleti cake.
“I’m not sure I understand it well myself but I think it means wewe and I are big liars and that we want to be meant to be together.” He shrugged, taking a bit himself.
“I thought wewe never shared.” She said, looking at the small cake that was meant for two.
“Here, I have no other options.” He smiled at her.
“I still can’t believe wewe actually do know the chef… and that he likes you.” She said, bringing one of the Candy canes to her mouth.
“I diagnosed him a couple of years zamani and ever since that day, the guy loves me and has cooked me wonders.” House shrugged and attacked the ice cream.
“I think it’s true. The people you’ve diagnosed, they all upendo wewe somehow.” She said; ready to take the other Candy cane.
House put his hand on hers, stopping hers from stealing the other precious half of the dessert. “I don’t want wewe to become sick, but if you’re ever eager to have me figuring wewe out, just give me a sign.” He said.
“Are wewe going to let me have it?” She asked, arching a brow at him.
“If I do let wewe have that other Candy cane, I’ll think of me as your ndoto of a hunk of burning love. If I don’t let wewe eat it, we will stay in that giant gap between upendo and hate.”
“Who says I’m going to eat it if wewe do let me have it?” She questioned, trying to escape an all too soon unraveling.
“You haven’t stopped playing me all night which means you’re as scared as I am.” He paused, “But you’re also hiding something from me.” He added, letting go of her hand.
She started to suck on the small Candy cane and said, “Sometimes, I just don’t want to share even if we have options.” She said, getting up and walking her way out.
House remained pensive for a few sekunde at the table. He wondered what the hell she was on about. And that’s when he realized she had left with her, well, his helmet. She was going to steal his bike. House took his own kofia, chapeo in hands and rushed out of the restaurant. Outside he saw that Cuddy was nowhere near his bike. He could hear the roaring engines of the bus on the other side of the road. Then it hit him, she must have got on the bus. House put his kofia, chapeo on and started his motorcycle’s engines to chase after one very secretive Cuddy.
--------------------------------------------------
Cuddy was indeed on the bus, she was alone at this hour. It was the driver’s last shift and he was listening to Do wewe upendo Me kwa The Contours from the Dirty Dancing Soundtrack and she hoped House had gotten the hint, she hoped that it would be a fairly hard puzzle for him to decipher. From her seat, she could see the trees and the very large and empty road ahead. The bus driver wasn’t going too fast but fast enough to make the ride enough of a thrill for her. She was scared but not because he could piss her off like he had right before he had convinced her to come back inside for dessert, but, because the place she wanted him to meet her was a place –for that twisted mind of hers, where there would be no turning back.
wewe broke my moyo
'Cause I couldn't dance
wewe didn't even want me around
And now I'm back, to let wewe know
I can really shake 'em down
And that’s when she saw him, riding his bike on the left side of the road, chasing after the bus. His bike could go a hundred times faster than the bus but this would be a race to him. A challenge, a competition, he was trying to onyesha off. She smiled watching him look at her instead of the road ahead.
“You’re going to kill yourself!” She shouted, opening the bus window.
“What?” He asked.
Well now tell me baby (tell me baby)
Mmm, do wewe like it like this (do wewe like it like this)
“DON’T LOOK AT ME! LOOK AHEAD!” She screamed from the juu of her lungs.
“YOU’RE THE ONLY HOT THING I CAN LOOK AT!” He said.
Tell me (tell me)
Tell me
She rolled her eyes but then saw an 18 wheeler coming his way and yelled, “HOUSE, WATCH OUT!”
House looked up and saw a huge truck and then everything went black.
Cuddy went out of the bus and ran towards House who was currently under his motorcycle on the other side of the truck. She saw him bleeding and bruises everywhere. She is guilt ridden and scared that she won't see house again.
“Grilled steak, mnofu with Béarnaise Sauce and French fries.” The waiter said, startling them a little.
“Gee! What are wewe a zombie?” House paused, putting a hand to his heart, “I almost had a moyo attack for Pete’s sake!”
The waiter alisema nothing and kept his stern, composed face to the task of serving them as properly as one could in this situation. He put down their plates in front of them and left saying, “The chef hopes the amount of oil and siagi in this meal will make your cholesterol jump to the roof.”
“Yeah, I don’t believe that see, the Chef knows me and he definitely wouldn’t hope this extremely rare condition of 'one regular meal to cause death' to happen to me.” House assured the boy.
The waiter decided the older man wasn’t worth the fight and went back to his business.
“Why can't wewe be nice to someone ?” She asked, taking a French fries from House’s plate.
“Hey that’s mine!” He tried to take it back but she had gulped it down already. So he aliiba one from her plate instead.
“Let’s share.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’m not sharing!” He started to rant, “Also, wewe can only have sex with me because I’m the only man who has ever gotten wewe to climax so high, almost every time.”
“You’re not that good, House.” She retorted, attacking her steak.
“There are some pretty fine men out there, House.” She took a bite of her steak, “I could always sell myself to another one of your kind.”
“You could but wewe wouldn’t, because I don’t share. I’ve stolen wewe before, I can do it again.” He stated matter-of-factly.
“And then you’re going to say I always run back to you?” She asked, handing him her empty glass of wine for him to refill it.
He took the bottle in his hands and did so, slowly, never leaving her eyes, “Like I said, I’m not the sharing type.”
“You are sharing right now.” She said, talking about the wine.
“I share things with you, for wewe and for me. There’s always reason as to why I might be sharing.” He said, putting the bottle back on the table.
“And wewe think that would prevent me from looking somewhere else?” She asked, taking a sip of her glass.
“I think wewe wouldn’t even go that far.” He said, very serious. And within the inayofuata five minutes, they mostly ate in silence.
“Let’s assume I would?” She broke the silence, knowing there was no point in trying to have him admit whatever that was on his mind other than with a subjectivity expressed in metaphors.
“I would never share, no matter what.” He repeated.
“So wewe would rather die than see me with someone else?” She asked, very curious.
“I would make wewe miserable and your life a living hell.” He remarked, never leaving her eyes.
“That’s very hypocritical from your part.” She paused, “Tell me if I’m getting this right, wewe wouldn’t want me to find happiness unless it’s with you?”
House replied, “Since wewe have never gotten over me, I can only conclude that wewe and I are meant to be and that no matter how much wewe think wewe could find happiness with someone else, wewe would still be miserable. I would just be adding fuel to the moto of your miserable existence because like I said, I can’t share you.”
“You don’t get to pick a timeline for these sorts of things to happen, House.” She said, “Maybe I just had to see your bastard self one last time to realize wewe and I are everything except meant to be.”
“You want dessert?” He asked, looking away, this conversation wasn’t over though.
“No, thanks.” She said, “I need a smoke.” She added, getting up.
“I’m going to pay.” He mumbled.
“Gregory House!” House heard being called after kwa a person with a very pronounced French accent. “You’re here, buddy!”
“Hi Francis.” House nodded, turning around to face the chef.
“I haven’t seen wewe in like four years au something!” Francis tried to picture a precise timeline.
“Yeah, I had to go away for a while. I was tired of your horrible face.” House smiled.
“Haha! wewe haven’t changed. Why didn’t wewe tell me wewe were here?” He said, hugging House.
“My tarehe isn’t really going too well so, I figured-“He tried, being quite honest.
“Are wewe on a tarehe with who I think it is?” Francis asked, smiling.
House nodded, “I was on my way to pay actually-“ he tried.
“Non non non non! wewe are not paying for anything tonight!” Francis paused, “You’ve never had to pay for chajio, chakula cha jioni here before, wewe won’t have to pay this time either and let me add this: especially tonight!”
“The bottle of wine is a Saint-Émilion worth about $300.” House stated.
“Okay, wewe pay for the wine but the rest is on me.” Francis said, “And I’m sorry but wewe two aren’t leaving until you’ve tried my last dessert, I’ve named it the House of Love.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” House asked, bewildered.
“I am not!” Francis smiled.
“And this place is the House of an idiot.” House shook his head in disbelief.
Francis laughed, “Aren’t we all idiots, House?”
House smiled at that familiar sentence, it reminded him of why he was sort of friendly and kind with this great cook.
“I’m going to go outside and urged her back inside for kitindamlo then.” House said, on his way out.
He saw her at the entrance, she was trying to light her cigarette but the wind wasn’t in favor of heavy smoking.
“Francis…”He tried, “The chef wants us to-“
“There’s a bus coming this way, maybe I should go home.” She said.
“House of Love!” He exclaimed.
“What?” She eyed him suspiciously, letting go of her attempts to light her cigarette.
“That’s his last creation, the kitindamlo he wants us to try.” His eyes were almost pleading.
“He called one of his desserts the House of Love?” Cuddy stood there, bewildered.
“I know! How stupid is that!” He smiled, scratching his head.
“I don’t know.” She said.
“Come on, wewe hate me, I get it.” He paused, “But at least wewe can get free kitindamlo from one of the best chefs I’ve had the chance to meet.”
Suddenly, Chef Francis barged in on them and said, “Come on House!” He paused, “Oh hello, Mademoiselle Cuddy, it’s a pleasure meeting you.”
“How do wewe know my-“She tried.
“Come on, kitindamlo is on its way!” He added and went back inside.
House had his hands in his pocket and shrugged, “I think that was zaidi of an order than an offer. Besides I prefer your punda to get bigger than wewe getting lung cancer.”
She chuckled, “Okay.” She said.
“Cool.” He said, inaonyesha her the way back inside.
They went back to their meza, jedwali in silence and Francis brought the kitindamlo on a single plate to them.
“And for our two lovebirds, here’s my new special.” He started, loud enough for the entire room to hear, “House of Love! A molten chokoleti cake with some caramel, karmeli ice cream on the side and two cinnamon flavored Candy canes on the juu of the cake.”
House and Cuddy saw that the two Candy canes were forming a heart.
“Oh no, wewe didn’t…”House’s voice trailed off.
“I’ve made this recipe and named it after the man seated at this table, ladies and gentlemen.” He paused, “This is the man right here, Dr. Gregory House, the greatest jerk I have ever met and an amazing friend.” He then winked at House and Cuddy, “You two have a great kitindamlo tonight.” He then turned to House and murmured, “Give me the three hundred for the wine, now.”
House sighed and gave Francis his VISA card, “You know the canes aren’t necessary anymore.”
“I’ve noticed but your cane is now invisible… just like hers has always been.” He said, “Now I’m going to yell at your waiter. Have a good nigh.” He told Cuddy and went back to his kitchen.
“I have a cane?” She paused, not sure what to think of that, “And it’s invisible?”
“Yeah, I used to tell him your heels were like my cane.” He trailed off, “A way to cope with life and discriminations." He paused, "But he would say that my cane was there and could be seen. So now that I don’t have a cane anymore, it’s invisible just like your heels.”
“I think I’m going to eat because that is way too philosophical for me.” She said, taking a bite of the molten chokoleti cake.
“I’m not sure I understand it well myself but I think it means wewe and I are big liars and that we want to be meant to be together.” He shrugged, taking a bit himself.
“I thought wewe never shared.” She said, looking at the small cake that was meant for two.
“Here, I have no other options.” He smiled at her.
“I still can’t believe wewe actually do know the chef… and that he likes you.” She said, bringing one of the Candy canes to her mouth.
“I diagnosed him a couple of years zamani and ever since that day, the guy loves me and has cooked me wonders.” House shrugged and attacked the ice cream.
“I think it’s true. The people you’ve diagnosed, they all upendo wewe somehow.” She said; ready to take the other Candy cane.
House put his hand on hers, stopping hers from stealing the other precious half of the dessert. “I don’t want wewe to become sick, but if you’re ever eager to have me figuring wewe out, just give me a sign.” He said.
“Are wewe going to let me have it?” She asked, arching a brow at him.
“If I do let wewe have that other Candy cane, I’ll think of me as your ndoto of a hunk of burning love. If I don’t let wewe eat it, we will stay in that giant gap between upendo and hate.”
“Who says I’m going to eat it if wewe do let me have it?” She questioned, trying to escape an all too soon unraveling.
“You haven’t stopped playing me all night which means you’re as scared as I am.” He paused, “But you’re also hiding something from me.” He added, letting go of her hand.
She started to suck on the small Candy cane and said, “Sometimes, I just don’t want to share even if we have options.” She said, getting up and walking her way out.
House remained pensive for a few sekunde at the table. He wondered what the hell she was on about. And that’s when he realized she had left with her, well, his helmet. She was going to steal his bike. House took his own kofia, chapeo in hands and rushed out of the restaurant. Outside he saw that Cuddy was nowhere near his bike. He could hear the roaring engines of the bus on the other side of the road. Then it hit him, she must have got on the bus. House put his kofia, chapeo on and started his motorcycle’s engines to chase after one very secretive Cuddy.
--------------------------------------------------
Cuddy was indeed on the bus, she was alone at this hour. It was the driver’s last shift and he was listening to Do wewe upendo Me kwa The Contours from the Dirty Dancing Soundtrack and she hoped House had gotten the hint, she hoped that it would be a fairly hard puzzle for him to decipher. From her seat, she could see the trees and the very large and empty road ahead. The bus driver wasn’t going too fast but fast enough to make the ride enough of a thrill for her. She was scared but not because he could piss her off like he had right before he had convinced her to come back inside for dessert, but, because the place she wanted him to meet her was a place –for that twisted mind of hers, where there would be no turning back.
wewe broke my moyo
'Cause I couldn't dance
wewe didn't even want me around
And now I'm back, to let wewe know
I can really shake 'em down
And that’s when she saw him, riding his bike on the left side of the road, chasing after the bus. His bike could go a hundred times faster than the bus but this would be a race to him. A challenge, a competition, he was trying to onyesha off. She smiled watching him look at her instead of the road ahead.
“You’re going to kill yourself!” She shouted, opening the bus window.
“What?” He asked.
Well now tell me baby (tell me baby)
Mmm, do wewe like it like this (do wewe like it like this)
“DON’T LOOK AT ME! LOOK AHEAD!” She screamed from the juu of her lungs.
“YOU’RE THE ONLY HOT THING I CAN LOOK AT!” He said.
Tell me (tell me)
Tell me
She rolled her eyes but then saw an 18 wheeler coming his way and yelled, “HOUSE, WATCH OUT!”
House looked up and saw a huge truck and then everything went black.
Cuddy went out of the bus and ran towards House who was currently under his motorcycle on the other side of the truck. She saw him bleeding and bruises everywhere. She is guilt ridden and scared that she won't see house again.