House was getting on his bike when his cell phone vibrated. He glanced at the caller ID as he flipped it open. "I'll be there in ten," he barked, snapping his phone closed before his band mate had a chance to utter a word. He made record time up to the Swamp Rat and, although he missed warm up, he was in time for the first set. The guys gave him some grief, and he puzzled them by accepting it in much better spirits than they would have imagined possible. During a break he told them that something had come up and he wouldn't be able to make tomorrow night's gig. They accepted this with no questions. They understood that being a doctor wasn't always a nine to five job, and had another keyboard player on call for those times Dr. House couldn't make it. House felt no obligation to tell them that the physical he was hoping to give was not at all work related.

House checked his hair in the mirror. He was looking fine. He was wearing a white dress shirt open at the collar and a tailored black jacket over lightly faded jeans. A pair of dark brown leather boots completed his look. He had spent considerable time in the bathroom with his clipper to perfect his careless, couldn't-be-bothered-to shave-look. At five-thirty he headed back down to the club. Once inside the rapidly filling club, House got himself a drink and found a table off to one side but near the stage. "All the better to see you, my dear," he thought as he sat down. He didn't have long to wait before Meaghan and the band were on stage.

She looked breathtaking. She was wearing a formfitting calf-length dress in a shimmery bronze material. The tight skirt was slit to mid-thigh on both sides to allow Meagan to walk. On the bonze was draped a sheer forest green material made her look like a woodland nymph. The effect was very becoming, and House wasn't the only one in the bar that couldn't take his eyes off her. She performed several songs. The group had an eclectic repertoire, yet there seemed to be a unifying theme of cool. Every tune they did was one House liked and Meaghan's rich, earthy voice only increased his pleasure and anticipation. The applause was strong after a fantastic rendition of Take the A Train, featuring a memorable scat performance by Meaghan and solos from each member of the trio. As the applause began to die, Meaghan struck a pose behind the mike stand and waited. When the last of the applause finished, her head came up and she let the opening lyrics for the next song fall from her lips.

She gave the song her best chorus-girl-looking-for-a-sugar-daddy impersonation and as she began the second line she came off the stage to flirt with the clientele. Men started waving folding money to attract her attention. A shoulder pat here, a cheek stroke there, she worked her way through the crowd.

Good looking, so refined
Say, wouldn't you like to know what's going on in my mind?
So let me get right to the point
I don't pop my cork for every man I see

That was certainly the truth, she thought, and yet the men were all but falling over each other to give her money. It seemed a little degrading to be trading caresses, - albeit perfectly innocent ones - for money, but it helped the boys in the band make rent, so she did it and smiled. She sang her way through the garden of waving greenery, being sure to leave no blossom unplucked. By the time she had worked her way to her real objective, the song was nearly done.

Hey big spender!

She leaned down and stroked House's cheek, then stood up and plucked the fifty from his hand.

Hey big spender!

She made a show of being impressed with the bill and tucking it inside her bodice. The audience loved it.

Hey big spender!

She sat down on House's lap, careful to put her weight on his good leg, wrapped her arms around his neck and toyed with his hair.

Why don't you spend a little time with me?

As the band played the last few bars of the song, she whispered in his ear, "I get off at nine."

"I'm sure I could manage it before that," he whispered back, his hand sliding down her back to give her bottom a discreet and friendly little rub. The applause covered her lusty laugh.

"Nine will be soon enough," she said, getting up. "You'll wait?" House gave a nod that looked much calmer than he felt. As soon as she headed back to the stage, House downed the remainder of his drink with one gulp.

The band did a few more numbers and then took a break. Meaghan stayed in the back of the house. She was somewhat astounded at the boldness that had seized her and led her to make such a brazen move. Asking a virtual stranger to meet her after the show was something she had never done before and it threw her a little. She spent the break on her cell with Angie, her roommate and the singer for the second half of the evening. Angie calmed her down, helped her decide what to wear after the show and even helped her plan an escape route, should the date go sour. By the time she had to go back on stage she was once again calm and sure of herself. Back at the apartment, Angie was amazed. She'd known Meaghan for a long time, and she'd never seen her as flustered as she sounded tonight. This must be some guy, Angie thought.

Out front, House was slowly realizing Meaghan did not intend to join him during the break. Just as well. Give him a chance to collect his cool, which he had spilled upon finding the object of his desire unexpectedly in his lap. He barked a short laugh. Thank God he wasn't seventeen anymore or that might not have been all he spilled.

Wilson swam up through a sea of chestnut hair and creamy skin to wakefulness. His cell phone was yammering at him from the coffee table. As he reached for it, the Lancet he'd been reading before his unplanned nap slipped onto the floor. He grabbed the cell and threw a glance at the caller ID. "This better be good, House," he barked.

"Geez, what's got your boxers in a ball?"

"You. You woke me. I was having a nap."

"Hmm. Isn't it awfully late for a nap? Ah, you must have been reading a medical journal. Which was it? The Lancet or JAMA?" House guessed.

"I, it, uh...It was the Lancet," grumbled Wilson.

"And you are awfully out of sorts. I'm guessing I woke you from a good dream. Who was it? Cuddy?"

"I was winning at high stakes poker," lied Wilson. "Now tell me why you called or I'm hanging up."

"Touchy, touchy. And not all together convincing., but never mind that now. I called to tell you Meaghan asked me to meet her after the show. Where should I take her?"

Wilson gave House the name and address of bistro that was upscale but not too snooty. They wouldn't look twice if House was wearing jeans, as Wilson suspected. "They aren't too outrageously expensive, either," he told House. "You can do dinner for two with a bottle of wine for under a hundred, including tip."

"Yeouch!"

"Or you can just take her to McDonalds and ask her to go Dutch. I understand gorgeous women are really turned on by the cheap miserly type."

"Ok, ok. Point taken," House grumped.

"You're welcome," said Wilson with a roll of his eyes. "Good night."

"Wilson! Wait."

"What?"

"Can I borrow a c-note?"

"Goodbye, House."

House snapped his phone shut and looked at his watch. Barely seven-thirty. He felt as if nine o'clock would never come. Meaghan and the band came on shortly, and that helped pass the time, but it still seemed an eternity before he heard Meaghan say, "Well that's it for me tonight. Have a great night everyone." She came down off the stage to House's table. "Just give me a few minutes to change into something a little more appropriate," she said and disappeared into the back. Good as her word, she came out ten minutes later in a full, calf-length black skirt and a white angora sweater that tastefully accentuated her curves. House looked at the angora and thought that he had never wanted to pat the bunny so much in his life.

"Would you like to go to dinner, or did you have something else in mind?" he asked.

"I am hungry, but I don't need a full dinner. I had a snack before I came into work. I get too hungry otherwise."

"Maybe just drinks, appetizers and desert?"

Sounds lovely. Do you have some place in mind?"

"Yes, I do."

Fifteen minutes later there were seated in the bistro. They ordered pâté de foie gras, fruit and cheese. House ordered a bottle of wine that went well with their food, and the talk began to flow with the alcohol. Once the ice was broken, conversation came easily. House learned that Meaghan had come to America to attend college. She majored in international studies at Vassar, with a minor in music. In the year following graduation, she had done a North American "grand tour" before returning home and obtaining a job with the CFO - the UK version of the State Department. She had worked at embassies in several countries. Her assignments had included Minsk, Warsaw, and Lisbon, with the most recent being that in Washington D.C. "From there, I'd decided I'd had enough. When my tour was up, I made arrangements to stay. An-Angie was starting a bookstore and had a lead on a club where we might sing, so I thought, why not?"

House told her a highly edited version of his life. He left much out, but he still shared with her more than he had ever shared with anyone this early in a relationship.

Read the next part of Joan's Fan Fic by clicking onto the link below:
Always and Forever, Part Four http://www.songsofshirleybassey.co.uk/song/sng67014.html