When Foreman returned to the car, House had long returned to his seat and buckled himself in, and had already made a dent in the next bottle of Vicodin. Foreman closed the car door and sighed. He didn't eat. He didn't drive.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

House looked up, feigning oblivion. "I was iffy on taking a trip with you! I'm not ready to use the L word!"

"House," Foreman snapped.

House looked out the passenger window. "Because I'm not ready," he repeated. "I...I need you to respect that."

Foreman looked at him, suddenly seeing him in a different light. A brighter light.

"Okay."

House looked at Foreman, watching him buckle up. "Thank you," he finally said.

Foreman started the car, but before he could change gears, his hands-free car phone began ringing. House stared at the name on the display as Foreman answered the call. "Case call?"

"Yeah," Dr. Park's shrill voice came through. "We gave Danny enough anesthesia to knock out a horse, but he's not going out."

"How long's it been?"

"It's going on fifteen minutes!"

Foreman looked at House, who was staring at the receiver like he wanted to say something. "Well, believe it or not, some people don't respond to anesthesia at all."

"He's in the OR."

"Well, you may have to perform the surgery while he's conscious."

"No!"

Foreman sighed and realized House was now looking at him. "Do you have any other choice?"

Dr. Park stuttered nonsensically, finally blurting out, "Maybe we could knock him on the head really hard?"

"Tell your patient his options. And clear your schedule for tomorrow night."

"Why?"

"Just do it, please. There's something you'll really want to see." Foreman disconnected and looked at House. "That's one. Easily reversible, but I can keep going if you like."

House considered, and nodded curtly. "I want them all. Cuddy, Cameron, Taub, Park, Adams, Thirteen..." His voice trailed off and he blinked a few times. "Scratch that last one."

Foreman's face softened as he began to drive. House looked down in the rearview mirror—to see Remy open her eyes and smile at him. House ignored it, knowing it was not actually happening. He looked away. "I want to see the look on Chase's peach fuzz face."

"Chase held the position of diagnostician for four years!"

"And he couldn't cut the mustard, so he resigned, right?"

Foreman was honestly impressed. He scoffed and shook his head. "No good leg to stand on, and you haven't missed a step."

He reached over and dialed a number. It rang three times, but finally a familiarly feminine voice filtered through the receiving end.

"Hello?"

"Allison. It's Foreman, Eric Foreman. Listen, I'm getting everyone together tomorrow night. At the hospital."

"Is it a work thing? Kind of like a gigantic differential?"

"Uh, no. I just want to see the whole crew. I've got some big news."

"Oh. Yeah, I can make it. I have to go, Foreman; I'll see you then," she added in a rush. "Jamie, stop, don't eat the soap! Don't eat the—" And she was gone.

House looked at Foreman. "Why didn't we ever have kids?"

Foreman smiled, hesitating briefly. "Speak for yourself."

"Whaaaat?"

"Yeah, my wife's due in January." Foreman looked at his incredulous expression. "We have a lot of catching up to do. I guess that's what happens when you go off the map."

"Huh. Yeah, I haven't had cell service in almost a decade..." House took out his phone. "I just carry it around."

Foreman chuckled.

"Let's see, a decade's worth of bills, fifty bucks a month..." House sucked a breath. "Any chance you hire convicts?"

"Nope."

"Any chance you would pull strings for an old friend, down on his luck?"

"Not a criminalized old friend."

"Come on! A couple of clogged pipes. How much longer are we going to milk this cow?"

"You also faked your death, evaded the authorities, and let's not forget your heaping list of indiscretions. House, I wouldn't be surprised if you got five to ten."

House looked down, making a face of displeasure. "Then you better keep calling. I just want to see Cuddy one last time."

"It won't be the last time."

"You don't know that it won't be."

"You don't know that it will be," Foreman countered.

House looked down and pondered his words, listening to Foreman dial the next number. As her phone rang, House realized that even as disappointed as he was to have missed keeping his promise to Thirteen, he was also glad it had worked out the way it had. He was glad Foreman was there.

"Dr. Cuddy's line. Joy speaking."

"Hi, Joy. My name's Eric Foreman, I'm a friend of Lisa's. Can I speak to her, please?"

"Sorry. Dr. Cuddy is in a conference out of town. Try again on Tuesday."

"Tell her to get her ass back to work!" House yelled.

"House, please," Foreman snapped.

"Uh, I'm sorry, gentlemen, but she doesn't work for me. Try again on Tuesday." And like that, there was a click of finality and the car was silent.

House raised his eyes to Foreman. "She has to be there."

Foreman sighed, staring in disappointment over the wheel. "Sorry, House."