A/N: An 'M' rated version of this story also exists, should you be interested in that sort of thing.

Freudian Slips

Hello, JB here again. This second piece is based on the scene from Euphoria Part One –Episode 2 -20 when House & Cameron are together outside the cop's apartment. Beyond the obvious sexual tension between them when House blocks her from leaving, when House hangs up the phone he says 'See you back home'. A slip of the tongue, or a slip of the mind?

Chapter 14

"Wh-y-y doesn't anyone listen to me anymore?" House said from his seat in the hall.

"I decided you were wrong," Cameron replied.

"God you're weak. Guy steals your article, tells you you're not his friend. You still wanna risk your life for him," House berated her.

"Foreman broke my skin with a tainted needle," Cameron said. No need to hide it any longer; she'd already been in the apartment.

"Wow," House said.

"Yeah."

"God you're weak." Cameron rolled her eyes at his insistence. "Guy tried to kill you. First thing on my list of things to do would be to stab him back. Shoot him. Got a gun in my desk. Last thing on my list would be to lie to my boss about it and give the bastard everything he wanted." In actuality, the first thing on his list would have been to come here had their positions been reversed. She was impressing him.

"I'm not here for Foreman I'm here to save myself," Cameron refuted him.

"Meh," House said. She wasn't backing down and House decided it was time to amp it up. "Even with a needle stick your chances of infection are pretty slim. That's why you're wearing the suit. You wanted to be here. He just gave you the excuse. What does a guy have to do to make you hate him?" Where had that last part come from? It hadn't been part of the plan.

Cameron made a frustrated face and tried to move past him. His cane shot out to block her path. Slowly, House stood and looked down at her. From the second he'd begun lifting his cane to trap her there he had felt a tension building. It was moments like this, when the electricity between them was so intense House was sure it would arc in blue, lightning-like bolts between them that made him reconsider his self-imposed loneliness.

His eyes met hers and locked in a struggle. He wanted, no, he needed her to answer that question. What did he have to do to make her hate him? He wanted to know where the line was he couldn't cross, the line that would force her away for real. He had a pretty good handle on the one that would make her his, and he could now easily avoid it. But the one that could drive her away was a mystery, one he needed to solve before he crossed it by mistake. He preferred to keep himself somewhere between.

As the seconds ticked by it became apparent to House that Cameron wasn't going to answer him. Maybe she didn't know; more likely she dismissed his question along with the rest of his babbling. In the past, Cameron would have broken eye contact long ago, but today somehow she was holding steady.

"Give me the bag," House said, breaking whatever tenuous connection had been made between them.

"You want lunch?" Wilson asked as he stuck his head into House's office. When he got no answer he simply assumed that House had once again fallen asleep while listening to his Ipod. Wilson knew he often had trouble sleeping at night, but he'd never before met someone who could fall asleep literally anywhere.

Wilson crossed the office to House's desk and was surprised to see House's eyes open, if slightly glazed. Oh God, what did he take now? Wilson groaned to himself.

"House!" Wilson shouted. House started in his chair, he'd been so swept up in the memory he hadn't even heard Wilson come in.

"You don't have to yell, I'm right here," House complained.

Wilson started talking again, something about lunch, but House only half-heard him. He was still thinking about Cameron, and how he'd sent her back into the cop's apartment to look for pigeon crap. He heard a faint echo of his own voice telling Cameron about Cryptococcus neoformans, blah, blah, blah, Don't cut corners when you're growing your pot, his echo said, See you back home.

"Do you believe in Freudian slips?" House asked Wilson as he unhooked his cane from the desk and stood up.

"Is this a trick question? Like asking if I believe in Santa Claus?" Wilson asked.

"You're Jewish, you don't believe if Santa Claus," House scoffed.

"You know what I mean," Wilson argued. He followed as House limped out of the office and toward the elevators. "Do you really want to know what I think or are you looking for a reason to mock me?"

"Whether or not I mock you will depend on your answer," House said. He pressed the elevator button with the tip of his cane and bounced it on the floor. "Do you think Freud was an idiot, or was he on to something?"

"I think sometimes we can accidentally say things without meaning to," Wilson hedged.

"And a dog can accidentally pee on the rug," House snarked. The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside, Wilson followed. "Let me be more specific, do you think that sometimes the things we say 'accidentally' are things we really want to say?"

"I don't know, maybe," Wilson conceded. "So, when you say that you forgot your wallet, does that mean you really want to pay for your own lunch?"

"Only if the term accidentally can be defined as 'with forethought'," House said. The elevator doors opened and House and Wilson proceeded down the hall toward the cafeteria.

"So what brought this on?" Wilson asked. "You hate psycho-babble."

"Just thinking," House answered noncommittally.

"Right," Wilson said, clearly not believing him. House and Wilson entered the cafeteria and picked up their trays. "Obviously it has to do with Cameron. Just tell me and spare me the chore of having to yank it out of you like a rotten, festering tooth."

"I'm trying to think about lunch here," House said. He rolled his eyes at the few other patrons in line, who had obviously found Wilson's comment less than tasteful. "Just trying to figure out why I said something."

"Something you said to Cameron," Wilson sighed. He didn't know why he thought House would ever make this easy for him.

"Are you on Cameron again?" House asked huffily.

"Would that bother you?" Wilson asked knowingly. House just glared as they moved through the line. He grabbed a Rueben, a soda and a bag of chips. "You know she could be leaving soon."

"Just because I don't care doesn't mean I don't understand," House snapped. He stopped at the cashier's station and waved at Wilson. She just smiled at him and looked to Wilson to cover the tab.

When they were both seated at a table, Wilson decided to continue. After all, she could be leaving in a few days; he wouldn't have many chances left. House needed a push; Wilson was happy to give him a shove.

"What did you say?" Wilson asked.

House rolled his eyes as he chewed the enormous bite he'd just ripped from his Rueben. He swallowed loudly and slurped his soda. He then grabbed his bag of chips and crinkled them as annoyingly as possible. Wilson ate, unperturbed.

"When Foreman was sick and Cameron and I were at the cop's apartment," House finally said. "She was inside getting a pigeon crap sample. We were on the phone …. I said 'See you back home'."

"Interesting," Wilson commented. The best way to deal with this was to be as non-responsive as possible, thereby forcing House to do both sides of the conversation and trap himself.

"No, it's actually very un-interesting," House replied. He ate a few chips and then looked back at Wilson in annoyance. "Why would I say home?" Wilson shrugged. "It doesn't necessarily have anything to do with Cameron. I spend a lot of time here, too much really, maybe I think of the hospital as home."

"Maybe," Wilson said.

"It was a slip of the tongue," House insisted, although Wilson wasn't actually arguing with him. "It didn't mean anything."

"Okay," Wilson said.

"So you're saying it's because … what? I want Cameron at my home, I want to have a home with Cameron, I think of places where Cameron is as home?" House peppered him with questions. "That's ridiculous. You know what, I have better things to do than sit here and listen to you go on about this."

House took his soda and chips, but left his unfinished Rueben behind. Wilson smiled, this might not be as hard as he'd thought.

... Written by JellyBean30