House watched Cameron walk out and down the hall, and then continued to stare at the spot where she had last been visible. Not a full minute passed before he saw Wilson approaching. Damn, House thought, and he turned to slip as quickly and quietly as possible into his darkened office. He knew Wilson could see his retreat through the glass but continued to sneak as if he were hidden.

"House!" Wilson said as he pulled open the conference room door.

"That's the problem with glass walls. They're too easy to see through," House griped as he continued to move at a brisk pace through his office and toward its main door. Wilson strode into House's office through the conference room then followed House through the open door into the hallway. It was no less than House expected. Hoping to control the conversation, House took the offensive. "You didn't make me dinner!" he accused.

"What happened last night?"

House continued as if Wilson hadn't spoken. "I was hoping for some fancy chicken dish."

"Seriously, I just passed Cameron in the hall. She looked upset."

"Maybe some of that pasta you cooked that one time…"

Wilson had caught up to House and pushed ahead. Turning, he blocked House's progress. "What did you do to her? What happened last night?"

House stopped and dropped his head, not sure what he wanted to reveal. House glanced at the personnel within his view and stepped around Wilson, moving toward a vacant alcove at the end of the hall. "The date was great," he said honestly. "No fancy dinner as I predicted." House paused to throw Wilson a dirty look. "It was almost as if she knew what I was doing in time to make other plans before I arrived."

They had reached the alcove, which provided a certain degree of privacy. Several chairs were gathered around a low, tiny table, but both remained standing. Wilson harrumphed and shifted his weight. House studied his face closely but he didn't see any evidence of guilt, only exasperation. "Traitor," House accused.

Wilson wasn't about to let House distract him. "The date was great? That sounds a hell of a lot better than the last one. What did you do?"

House shrugged. "We went to the movies. Drive in." He wagged his eyebrows. "Passion pit."

Wilson's face brightened with a small smile at the novelty of Cameron's idea. "A drive in? What were they showing?"

House smiled. "Silent comedy lineup. Chaplin, Keaton, you know."

"Well, that's different," Wilson said. House nodded and the two smiled in appreciation for several seconds before Wilson prodded. "And that went well?"

"Yeah," House replied after taking a moment to recall the date prior to his romp in the sheets with Cameron. He had been caught up in the moment the night before and was surprised to recall the extent of relaxation and fun he had felt during the date. When he wasn't thinking about Cameron's proximity, that is. "The movies were great, the food was typically bad and extremely overpriced. She paid, of course."

Wilson made a face at House's last comment, not doubting its truth. None of what House described explained Cameron's appearance when Wilson had passed her earlier. She had brushed by him despite his attempt to stop her and ask about her and the date. "And after the date?"

House remained silent, but his expression darkened. He looked at Wilson and continued to say nothing. After several moments, Wilson spoke. "You didn't."

House's eyebrows raised, then he slowly winked. "Oh, yeah," he stated, a hint of pride lacing his voice. "I did. Twice."

"Well, sex with you would explain Cameron's look of disappointment," Wilson jabbed.

"Twice," House repeated, not really taking offense. "Trust me, the sex was not disappointing. For either of us." House regretted having given so much away. He really didn't feel like getting a lecture from Wilson, especially since he doubted Wilson could throw anything at him that he hadn't thrown at himself already. He turned and began to move away.

"Then what did you do to her? After sleeping with her?" Wilson demanded. A wave of guilt washed over him as he admonished himself for not warning Cameron away from House.

House had only taken one step, but Wilson's question stopped him in his tracks. A part of him felt compelled to confess to Wilson, despite the threat of a lecture. And he couldn't help feeling the small bit of hope that Wilson would have useful advice to offer. At the very least, confessing now would lay the groundwork to allow House to complain to Wilson about the situation as things progressed. "I left."

"You left? That's it?" Wilson echoed. "What did you say before you left?"

Time stretched as House looked down, then away, then back at Wilson. "Nothing." It sounded worse to House when spoken aloud.

"Nothing?!" Wilson's jaw dropped and he took several moments to imagine the scenario. Hoping his friend wasn't a complete fool, he asked, "What did you say to her this morning?"

"Nothing," House replied. He could tell that Wilson was about to echo him again, likely even louder this time, so he rushed on. "She didn't give me the chance to say anything." He felt slightly better having added that. This morning, at least, he hadn't been a complete jerk. He had intended to talk to Cameron earlier, though he hadn't been sure what it was that he would say.

Wilson sighed in frustration. Almost afraid to hear the answer, he took his time before asking, "What did she say to you?"

House looked up at the ceiling as his cane began to rap against the floor. He didn't speak for a full minute, found it hard to speak at all. "She… apologized." He spit it out like a curse.

Wilson stared. House's gaze darted around as the rapping of his cane increased in tempo and force. When Wilson did speak, all he could manage was a dumfounded, "Apologized?"

"Yup." House looked down at the ground and stilled his cane. He couldn't bring himself to look at Wilson's face. "Said it was a mistake."

Wilson was silent for a while and House kept his gaze directed at the ground. His head shot up, however, when Wilson began to laugh. House's eyes narrowed horizontally (not vertically).

"I bet that's just what you were going to say to her," Wilson said. "But she beat you to it." House refused to admit that Wilson was probably right. Instead, he turned and made his way toward the elevators. Wilson followed, determined to make his point. "It drives you crazy, doesn't it, that she didn't fall to your feet in tears, begging you to love her."

"That would be pathetic," House snapped. They had reached the elevators and he jabbed at the down button.

"Which is just what you wanted her to be," Wilson retorted. "A pathetic, immature girl with stars in her eyes. Good for the ego, and easy to brush off." The doors opened and House stepped into the elevator. "Much more so than a mature woman that you like and respect." The end of "respect" came out in a whoosh as the end of House's cane rammed into Wilson's stomach when he attempted to step into the elevator. The elevator doors began to close. House pulled his cane in at the last moment and Wilson leaned forward to call through the narrowing crack. "Or someone you care about!"