It had been almost a week and Wilson still wasn't speaking to him. Well, he was speaking to him, but strictly in a professional manner and only when absolutely necessary. He had even referred to him as "Doctor House". As if formality would erase the fact that he had kissed his best friend.

"Is there something particularly interesting on the curtains that we should all be looking at, or do you want to get back to discussing the patient?" Thirteen's sarcasm jerked House out of his thoughts.

"Well, I can tell you what she doesn't have. Unless the patient transformed into a middle-aged woman overnight, Taub's diagnosis is just embarrassing."

The differential ended and House's team split off in different directions, leaving him in peace. Half an hour later, Thirteen walked into his office, interrupting his DS game.

"I got the test results from Wilson. He says it's not cancer. And that he's known since this morning. Why didn't you ask him earlier? We could've ruled out cancer during the differential and saved time."

Damn. House shut off his DS.

"Why would I do that when I could send one of my lackeys to ask for me?"

"Whatever you did to piss off Wilson fix it, so we can stop endangering a patient's life."

She looked at House abrasively before stalking out of his office. He knew Thirteen was smart enough to pick up on the fact that Wilson was ignoring him, but uninterested enough to not care why. Still, she was right. He was distracted, unable to completely focus on the case without his thoughts making their way back to Wilson. It seemed impossible that Wilson could go on forever without talking about it. Even so, he worried that this time he'd finally pushed their friendship to the breaking point.

Twisting a rubber band with his hands, House contemplated what he should do, and with a sigh picked up his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. He had a plan. Certainly not his best plan, but House was growing desperate.

That night House and Wilson entered the lobby at the same time to leave work for the weekend. Wilson refused to look in House's direction, even as they pushed the glass doors open at the same time. As they walked off in opposite directions, House felt his heart drop to his stomach. He tried to calculate the odds of ever being able to fix this. This plan had to give him something. It needed to.

James Wilson, though guilty on several accounts of infidelity, had never paid for sex. It had always struck him as morally questionable, not to mention dangerous. So when he entered the sleaziest strip club he could find, Wilson only expected to watch the strippers.

He had tried distraction upon distraction all day. Ignoring House all week had done nothing to get him off his mind. Wilson started his Saturday morning by turning on the Spanish soap channel, which worked fine until Rafael leaned in to kiss Maria and the feeling of House's lips on his had flashed uninvited through his mind. He'd tried rereading his favorite novel, until the protagonist tenderly touched her lover's cheek, and then he was remembering House's stubble under his palm and slamming the book in frustration. It was impossible to ignore that warm feeling underneath the undying anxiety he felt each time he remembered.

He spent the rest of the afternoon driving around aimlessly, hoping he'd have a House-like epiphany on what to do. Regrettably, none came, and he ended up back at his apartment, restlessly trying to distract himself with paperwork.

Wilson rubbed his eyes until he saw spots and sighed. After changing, he grabbed his keys and went out the door. Clearly thinking wasn't the solution. Maybe he needed to do the opposite.

One desperate phone call and 12 hours later, House found himself parked across the street from Wilson's apartment in an icecream truck with the world's most annoying private investigator. The already laughable disguise was made worse by the fact that it was mid-November.

"You know, since he managed to get over you killing his girlfriend, I never thought I'd have to spy on Wilson again." Lucas said as he sucked on a red popsicle. "What'd you do to screw up your friendship worse than that?"

"I did not kill his girlfriend. And how about instead of trying to analyze me, you actually do your damn job." House motioned at the binoculars Lucas hadn't touched.

"Well, analyzing you is part of my job. That way I know what to look for, and what's irrelevant. And for you to call me, especially after I flirted with Lisa Cuddy, it's gotta be something bad."

House merely rolled his eyes. It was impossible to stop Lucas once he began his line of questioning. He was relentless and worse; good at what he did. It was hilarious to watch his team be subjected to but incredibly annoying to experience personally.

House opened the box in front of him and pulled out a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle icecream bar, taking off the wrapper to reveal a deformed turtle head with melting gumballs for eyes. House took a bite and tried to ignore Lucas.

"You're not gonna give me any clues? Ok. Here are some main reasons why friends fight: borrowing money- clearly if that was an issue Wilson would've been outta the picture a while ago, stealing a girlfriend- again, can't be that since you're both alone, jealousy- doubtful since you make similar salaries, and you're a miserable drug addict."

"Never one to mince words, are you." House said, trying to cut off Lucas's prying.

"Which leaves you saying something insensitive, but that would just blow over, no need to call me in. Friendships can become complicated by romantic feelings or actions, but this is also unlikely, since neither of you have shown interest in men. Although, my information on Wilson on dates back about twenty years, so I guess it's possible-"

"Of course it's not, ask any of his wives or mistresses. Are these useless explanations the best you can come up with? Maybe I should've hired a new PI, one with better insight. And disguises." House watched as a car drove past them and slowed, the driver staring at the obviously out of place icecream truck.

He tried his best to seem sincere, but House could feel his cheeks burning from Lucas's suggestion. Lucas was good but House doubted he would notice. It was a highly unlikely explanation after all. A moment of silence stretched on while Lucas stared at him, which was definitely a bad sign. House watched as car pulled up and Wilson got out of it, unlocking his door.

"You know, ordinarily I would expect a sarcastic remark about how you and Wilson are totally doing it. But that seemed more. . .like a deflection?"

House refused to make eye contact. The last thing he needed was Lucas's opinion on any of this.

"He's finally home, can we focus on actual spying now!" House gestured toward the window in a last ditch attempt to make Lucas stop investigating him. But he knew it was already too late.

Lucas looked at him wide-eyed. "Woah. Woah."

Shit. House took a deep breath and licked his lips, unintentionally remembering how soft Wilson's were. He continued to look at anything other than Lucas.

"The why doesn't matter. I need to know what he's up to. Do you want to get paid your ridiculous fee or not?"

"Wow! You hooked up with your best friend. That's risky and unexpected, even for you! Was he drunk? Were you drunk? Oh man." Lucas giggled and House had a sudden urge to strangle him. "And yes, seeing as you still owe me from last time, I would like to get paid." Lucas added.

Before House could retort, Lucas started looking through the binoculars.

"He just got changed, and now he's about to leave. Dinner plans, maybe?"

"There was nothing on his schedule." House spoke finally. "How fast does this thing go?"

Lucas blinked. "You can't be serious. You want me to tail Wilson in an icecream truck?"

House said nothing, only glared. A few minutes later, they were on the road a couple of cars behind Wilson. The sun was starting to set and puddles from an earlier storm reflected the glowing sky. House estimated that Lucas had not stopped talking for longer than six seconds, and was seriously considering pushing him into traffic.

"So, seriously, was it an awkward, drunken mistake? I didn't even know you were interested in men. I mean it's cool, I had a friend go through a similar situation."

"You did?" House asked skeptically.

"No, but I was hoping if I made myself seem more relatable you'd give me some details and I'd understand why we're in this icecream truck still. This is gonna cost you extra, by the way."

"I'll put it on Wilson's tab. It's his fault I had to hire you in the first place. If he would stop being such a baby about this I wouldn't need you."

"So do you like him then? Like him, I mean."

"Did I miss the part where we went back in time to the seventh grade? He's my friend. I don't want everything to be ruined." House grew quiet.

"Okay, are you interested in him? There's only a few reasons why friends make a pass at their friend. Actually-"

"Would you cut it out with your ridiculous lists! I'm trying to tail someone!" House yelled as he took a sharp left turn.

Lucas shrugged. "The fact that we're even doing this right now answers most of my questions anyways. It's obviously your biggest fear."

"What is?" He asked, simultaneously wanting and not wanting to hear the answer.

"Losing him."

Five drinks later Wilson sat, mouth gaping, as a stripper with curly brown hair gave him a lap dance. He felt a dizzying amount of lust as her breasts neared his face. Her fingers barely grazed his wrist.

"Nice watch." She paused for a moment. "I like you. Wanna take this upstairs sweetie?"

All Wilson could do was nod dumbly, against any greater moral reservations he'd had before walking into the strip club. He wanted this. She led him up the stairs and he watched her hips sway in front of him. As she closed the door behind them he felt an unmistakable pit form in his stomach. The all too familiar feeling of doing something regrettable, of hitting a new low. He recognized the feeling for what it was and put it aside, unwilling to turn back now. He wasn't new to illicit sexual behavior. He had enough failed marriages as evidence. But as her lips met his, even his drunken mind knew it felt off. Her mouth opened too wide, he was leaning down when he should have been tilting his face up. It wasn't what he had hoped for. Despite this cutting realization, Wilson continued, kissing down from her neck to her stomach, the music from below pulsating through his numb mind.

House walked into the dingy club, leaving Lucas in the parking lot and was greeted with loud, thumping music. It was the sort of place he would frequent himself, but knew Wilson would view with scorn. He scanned the familiar scene; deadbeat, middle-aged men with booze on their breathe and cash in their hands hungrily watching sleepless women. As he looked around the depressing scene, House locked eyes with tall, stern looking man, who continued to watch House after he looked away. Sweeping the room again, House spotted Wilson, who was following one of the strippers toward the back of the club. He stepped forward, ignoring the urge to yell Wilson's name, when a hand reached out and stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going? Yeah, I remember you. Thought I told you to stay the hell outta here?"

House sighed in frustration, unable to remember when he had been here or what he had done to be kicked out and tried to step past the man.

"No I'm not- I'm here to get my friend!"

"Like hell you are! Hey!"

House continued to protest as a security guard began to escort him out.

"Watch the leg! Cripple here!" House waved his cane as the security guard pushed him out the door.

House grimaced in defeat, looking around the parking lot for the absent icecream truck.

"Damnit." He swore, flipping open his phone to call for a cab.

The though of Wilson and the stripper made his jaw clench.

That idiot. He thought. As if sleeping with the first woman he sees will undo anything.

He unscrewed his bottle of Vicodin and swallowed several pills as he stared out the cab window into the dreary night.

"Weather's been shit all week." The cabbie said, to which House offered no response.

(A/N): Lucas? Believe me I was surprised too. I don't like Lucas at all but the idea of him teasing House was too fun to pass up.