Disclaimer: I don't own House and am not associated with the show in any way.

A/N: I am fairly new to writing fic and his is my first House fic. I don't think I have a handle quite yeton writing everyone in character, but I'm gonna give it my best shot and try and improve on the way. I've had the idea for this fic in my head for about a month and finally decided to get down to writing it. Hope you like it, even though it's undoubtably an improbable scenario.

Chapter One

Doctor James Wilson sat slumped behind in the chair behind his desk in the Oncology Department of the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He stared with a deep sense of foreboding at the return address on the envelope he was holding clutched in his hands.

As familiar as he was with the good works of the cancer research foundation whose name was depicted on the corner of the package, Wilson only felt a bone deep dread of the information he suspected was contained within. Steeling his nerves with a deep breath, Wilson tore open the envelope and retrieved its contents. Scanning quickly, what he found caused his already slouched form to collapse even further upon itself, his head coming to rest with weary resignation on his hand which was propped up by the chair arm.

It was in this same position that fellow doctor and Wilson's best friend, Gregory House, found him some twenty minutes later. Barging unannounced into the office, House came to a standstill in front of Wilson's desk and proceeded to speak in a tone of unconcealed annoyance.

"You know, it's rather impolite to ask a chap out to lunch and then not have the decency to show up. No phone call, no page; not even a note saying 'sorry, can't come, I'm washing my hair'. A lesser man than I might have taken offense to that omission. You're lucky I have such an understanding and forgiving nature."

Wilson, startled from his reverie by the outburst, blinked incomprehensively up at House and uttered the only word that come to his mind.

"Huh?"

House, picking up on the dejected nature of Wilson's manner, absently replied, "Lunch. You stood me up."

Tilting his head slightly to the side as he regarded Wilson, House questioned, "What's up?"

Making no verbal reply, Wilson extended his hand towards House, offering up his recent postal communication for examination.

His brow creased in puzzlement, House took the offered paper while shooting Wilson an inquiring look. A thorough inspection of the aforementioned communiqué did nothing to relieve House's puzzlement and he again liked at Wilson in inquiry.

"What? It's an invitation to the Children's Cancer Foundation charity dinner next week. Granted it's a little unusual receiving an invite, you being an oncology doctor and all, but I fail to see what the problem is."

Wilson abruptly stood up and started pacing back and forth behind his desk. With not a little panic in his voice, Wilson explained, "Julie's going to be there. She's on the organizing committee."

Catching the significance of that comment, House closed the office door to ensure privacy and settled in by leaning back against it. In a snarky voice laden with an unconcealed hardness, House said, "Of course she's on the organizing committee."

Justifiably, House's attitude towards Julie Wilson, which at it's best could have been described as patronizingly tolerant, had cooled considerably since he had learned of her separation and impending divorce from his friend.

Matters were not helped any by Julie making it public knowledge that she was leaving Wilson for a much younger man with whom she had been having an affair.

News of the infidelity, which had been unknown by Wilson until the day Julie had kicked him out in order to move her lover in, had spread like wildfire.

An intoxicated Wilson had later confided in House that Julie had told him he had no one to blame but himself for what had happened. She claimed Wilson had forced her into the arms of another man due to his constant neglectful absence. She had grown resentful of the time he spent at work and with House, and so about nine months before Wilson's enforced change of address, Julie had consequently allowed herself to be seduced by another man. What had started as a light flirtation with a fellow member of one of the numerous committees she was involved in as a prominent cancer doctor's wife had eventually progressed into a full-fledged affair.

Julie had finally decided to come clean about the affair when the lease on her lover's apartment had come up and they had decided they wanted to move in together. And so Wilson had been informed that he was no longer wanted for the role of husbandly provider and protector. He had come home to find his bags packed and ready to go.

In the three months since this had occurred, Wilson had seen nothing of Julie and had heard from her only through their lawyers. He was all for their impending divorce, especially since the latest news on the grapevine was that Julie had gone on a tropical holiday with her young stud.

Now, with this charity dinner looming, it looked like the bitch was back.

Still pacing anxiously, Wilson started to ramble, "What am I going to do? I can't not go; I'm one of the guest speakers and this foundation donates a lot of money to the hospital for cancer research trials…But Julie's going to be there. And if she's there, he'll be there…They'll both be there. Together…What am I going to do?"

Stopping suddenly, Wilson looked at House in pleading inquiry.

"Just don't go," stated House simply.

"I can't," Wilson replied dejectedly as he sunk heavily into his chair.

"Sure you can," House responded, "its real simple. Just. Don't. Go."

"I have to. If I don't, she wins."

"I think she's already won," House replied, the words cruel but said with some compassion.

Wilson stared at House with mounting determination in his eyes. "Maybe she has. Maybe I am defeated. But I'm not about to let her see that I am. I'm going to that dinner. I'm going to show her that I don't care where she goes, what she does, and with whom."

Wilson was carried to his feet by a rising swell of purpose. "I'm going to show her just how good I'm doing without her, how much I don't need her."

House stared at Wilson. He paused for a beat then said, "And just how fine are you doing without her? You live in an unfurnished apartment which you never see because you spend all your time here, at this hospital. How exactly are you going to show Julie how fine you are by going, alone, to this charity dinner where she'll be draped all over her little boy toy."

Wilson's enthusiasm wilted. "You're right, I can't show up alone." He sunk back into his chair, covering his face with his hands.

House shrugged. "You could always hire a hooker. Some extremely hot young thing that's at least ten years younger than Julie."

Wilson looked up from behind his hands. "I can't go to a kids cancer benefit with a hooker!"

"An escort then, if it makes you feel better. Just as long as she's hot."

Wilson stared at House with awe and disbelief. "You can't be serious!"

"Well, you have to do something; you can't show up without a date to shove in Julie's face."

With those words of wisdom, House opened the office door and departed, leaving Wilson to stare at eh vacant doorway in thought.

House's idea was insane, Wilson knew, but he did have a valid point. What Wilson needed was an attractive date for the charity dinner. Someone he could show off in front of Julie, to let her see just how over her he is and how hurt he isn't.

Leaning back in his chair, Wilson began to look forward to the evening ahead. Now all he needed to do was find someone who would meet even House's approval as an 'extremely hot young thing'.