A/N - well, where to start... I suppose it was House teasing Cuddy about their having had sex. I started thinking - what if the one night stand wasn't House and Cuddy? Then I started to think about the deliciously complicated currents that could flow between the three of them.

It takes an ending (to send you on your way)

Cuddy

She doesn't know what she is doing here. Having a drink while debating a diagnosis is the formal explanation. However, in reality they are keeping an eye on Wilson – who is drinking to the end of another marriage. Cuddy thinks James is going to be OK – that he is probably relieved the entered into at haste third marriage is over. But he isn't going to admit that and she has no plans to offer an opinion. Since House believes himself to be the world's greatest expert on what Wilson does when his marriages end, suggesting an alternative explanation, even one based on experience, is not a good plan.

To say that the atmosphere is odd would be a massive understatement. House's team (she refuses to refer to them by any of the nicknames doing the rounds) probably know her better than other junior Doctors at PPTH – but that's due to the amount of time House spends skirting the borders of trouble. While they aren't daunted at being in a bar withthe Dean of Medicine – they aren't exactly relaxed either.

House isn't saying much – which would be welcome if she wasn't worried about what his silence means. Experience has taught her that a silent House is a House who is thinking – and apreoccupied House is capable of almost anything. In this case he should be thinking about Wilson – but when she looks across the table she is the one he is looking at, his expression pensive – which isn't something she is used to. He catches himself and contributes a characteristically sardonic remark to Foreman's debate with Chase and Cameron about the diagnosis. But the feeling that she is what's on his mind is – disconcerting.

Far better to think about the past, far better and safer to dwell on the last time Wilson was on the brink of a divorce. The memories aren't painful, not any longer. They represent the last time she let go, did something just a little crazy, and for that reason alone it's not something to have any regrets about.

Two people who work together stumble out of a bar into the arms of a one night stand. It should have been a disaster; it should have been embarrassing and awkward. That it wasn't any of these things still seems little short of miraculous; even now she sometimes quietly wonders why she let him go. But these are musings best left to the depths of sleepless nights and, of course, the answer is she let him go because she had no wish to be another of his former wives.

She thinks she explained it best as he was dressing in the early hours of the following morning. When he asked 'what happens now?' she was curled up in tangled sheets, watching him retrieve clothing scattered the night before.

'I don't do rebound relationships and I'm not a consolation prize. This was very pleasant,' his raised eyebrow was enough to make her smile, 'OK – more than pleasant – but you aren't ready for anything more.'

'I could be ready.' Was she tempted? Perhaps, just for a moment. But the woman who had taken him home the night before was far too realistic about him in the cold light of morning.

'In six months – if you still feel that way, tell me.' She had kissed him goodbye; serious enough about the offer to let herself enjoy the feel of his mouth, but even then she knew that it wouldn't happen.

And time proved her right – before the 6 months were up he was involved in Julie, then he was married – now he is divorcing – again.

So – a one night stand with James Wilson, not the greatest idea in the world, but not the worst either. For all that she is, generally speaking, too interested in being in control to be drawn to chance encounters and single nights, there was enough respect and affection between them to elevate what happened beyond the tawdry. And she didn't have the slightest difficulty in looking him in the eye, of working with him afterwards.

It is a different matter with his partner in crime; a man she will happily admit is a thorn in her side. Long ago she reached the conclusion that if she were to kill him, no jury would convict. There is a ridiculous amount of evidence to support a defence of provocation.

But she isn't going to kill him – he may be a bastard, but he's also an asset to the hospital, a Doctor of precocious brilliance with an almost flawless record of saving lives – facts he is far too aware of.

If she's been watching him extra carefully of late it's because she has been waiting to see if Stacy being back causes an explosion – something that will require skills at damage control to contain. So far there has been nothing to demand such an intervention – although he looks even more tired than ever. His pain and damage seem to have been internalised and while she is glad not to be on cleanup duty, that can't be good.

She tells yourself that she is worried about what will happen and how it will impact the hospital – and there are days, or minutes of days, when that is what she believes. But the truth is she is worried about House – and there is nothing comfortable about that. There is some guilt in the way she feels about him – and just to rub salt in the wound a fair measure of attraction too.

She isn't daunted by having a member of staff who challenges her to the extent he does; the daily tussles, verbal sparring and one upmanship are irritating yet strangely addictive. He's both the most infuriating and the most interesting man she knows and if he didn't have an ego the size of a small planet she'd be trying a lot harder to make him want her.

But she isn't trying at all – because she helped his lover betray him, because she can't or won't compete with Cameron and the devotion and sheer goodness she seems to offering. Except that he keeps watching her with an expression she doesn't recognise and the shiver of longing she feels at looking up and meeting that assessing gaze is almost enough to make her throw caution to the winds – almost.

But she isn't considering it. At all. It's a terrible idea. She doesn't harbour any illusions about him – and surely you need to have some illusions about a person you are attracted to? Isn't the point of wanting someone?

So, the tingling wash of sensation his scrutiny brings is inconvenient. The momentary spurt of triumph that comes when he looks uncomfortable at being caught isn't something to base any decisions on. It is illusory, it can't be trusted; Doctors base decisions on facts, logic. The facts are – he's hiding from Stacy and toying with Cameron and right now she is the only other game in town.

She thinks if she can just get out of range she'll be safe from doing something monumentally stupid. If she can't feel his gaze then there will be no need to struggle past the temptation to see what would happen if she started to play the game.

When she reachs the bar Wilson hands her a drink and doesn't comment on the abrupt departure from the table where everyone else is sitting, doesn't ask what the hell she is doing here anyway – since she almost never socialises with the rest of the staff.

'You OK?' she asks, because after all, he is the one in the midst of emotional trauma. In response he smiles and raises his glass.

'I'm thinking about the past, about the last time I was getting divorced.'

'James,' this doesn't seem like the wisest conversation to be having.

'Does he know?' he asks, nodding towards the table.

'About you and I? I don't think so. Apart from anything else I don't see him keeping quiet about it if he did.'

'I meant about you and him.' For a moment she is speechless, and then she tries to laugh off his remark. Not a great strategy – but worth a try.

'Am I going to need to get you a psych consult? There's nothing between us.'

'Are you sure?' He leaves the question hanging for a moment before continuing, 'something's changed – you know it, I can see it; is it possible that the great detective is the only one who hasn't figured it out yet?' There is, admittedly, a certain irony to that – but who the hell knows what goes on in the mind of the man in question?

'All that's changed is that he's looking for a place to hide from how he feels about Stacy,' she says calmly, certain of her analysis, 'anyone female with a pulse would probably do right now. I'm sure Dr Cameron would be more than happy to…'

'I'm sure she would, the thing is, you're the one he seems to be watching.' She resists the temptation to look over to see if Wilson is right and before she can find a response he adds, 'over 3 years ago I met a woman in a bar, a woman I wanted. I was very stupid and I let her get away, and I think its too late to change that. I haven't seen her for a while, she seems to have got lost – but I happen to believe that if she were to make a reappearance there are very few men who'd be able to resist her – including him.

The room seems to still as they watch each other. Her head is spinning – from the fact that he still seems to want her, and yet seems to be suggesting that, though he may not realise it, House does too. She knows that she will never get to the bottom of their friendship, never understand either of them. And, while he is telling her to choose House, his eyes blaze with regret. The currents here are strong and treacherous, she hates the feeling that she has strayed out of her depth.

Slowly she looks over her shoulder, taking a sip of her drink to steady her nerves and taking the opportunity to study House. He isgazing moodily into space – but there is tension in his shoulders and his air of detached boredom is just a little more forced than usual. Options and strategies rattle around inside her head, coalescing into a single thought, 'screw it,' she says quietly and decides to throw the dice - see what happens.