Disclaimer- Not mine but if they were I'd be ever so grateful (Messrs. Shore and Singer, can you hear me?)

Cafeteria –1pm

Wilson walked over to where House was sat, in the seat closest to the window, which also happened to be the seat farthest from any other diners. On the table was a half-eaten bacon sandwich, a full cup of black coffee and a pile of wildly scattered papers, which House appeared to be trying to psych out in a staring competition. So much so, that he didn't even raise his head to acknowledge Wilson, as he pulled up a seat alongside him.

'Working on your lunch break? This is a whole new you.' Wilson placed his tuna salad roll& cup of tea down a little too close to House, so that he could lean over to inspect the papers more closely.

'Well, you know how it is. You give a woman a bit of the old House-lovin', then before the desk's even cold, all that administrative neediness gets the better of her& she lands this on you. I must admit, when she mentioned the words 'performance review' straight after the dirty deed was done, I wondered why she had to analyse it, instead of just having a cigarette like any normal person would. Personally, I gave what I considered to be a great performance.'

Wilson raised his eyebrow. 'Or...'

'Or, Dr. Cockroach's three months are up, and I have to make him jump through a few hoops this afternoon.'

'Ah, yes. Dr. Clarkson. Remind me again what you have against this young, dynamic, virile, ladykiller, with great credentials from his previous posting. He's the real deal, isn't he?'

'Doesn't mean I have to like him.'

'You don't like him?'

'I don't dislike him. He's a very capable doctor.'

Wilson, catching on to the slightest hint of an underlying issue, decided to take it further. 'But...?'

'There's no but.'

'There is a but.'

'There's no but.'

'There SO IS a but.'

Wilson took a sip of his tea and stared a little harder at his friend, who was staring even harder still at his paperwork. Wilson continued, 'I mean, I would have said it's because he just oozes charm and sophistication from every pore, and has nubile young nurses foaming at the mouth when he walks past, but that hasn't stopped you liking me, now has it?'

'You have a pretender to your crown, Jimmy-boy.'

'O-kayyyy, maybe so. But if that doesn't bother me, why should it bother you?' He paused, and suddenly the penny dropped. Wilson banged his hands on the table excitedly. 'That's it, that's it, it's the green-eyed monster. He's been oozing and schmoozing just a little too close to home.'

House, for the first time since Wilson had joined him, cast him a brief glance. Before averting his eyes, lest they betray him by revealing the emotions they concealed.

'He's made a move on Cameron hasn't he? Ooh, that's it. I KNEW there was something, I just knew!'

House winced. It annoyed him that Wilson always managed to see through his carefully placed mask. It annoyed him even more that Wilson was getting so over-excited at pulling off his best Sherlock Holmes routine, that he was now bouncing up and down in his chair, his complexion having taken on a peculiar reddish tone, and House's coffee cup was doing a bizarre Conga like dance across the table. Unnerved by the not inconsiderable possibility that Wilson may suddenly start convulsing if he didn't calm down, he hit back.

'I remember why I like you now, you remind me of when I was young and stupid.'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah, like you were ever young once. You can't fool me. You know, you brought this on yourself House. You had your chance six months ago, and you blew it. I told you you'd end up alone.'

Wilson, not knowing when to take his leave, continued with his quick fire questioning.

'So, what'd he say to her? Are they dating? How long have they been dating? Do they know that you know they're dating? Are they doing it? They are, they're doing it. They're actually doing it!'

House, fearing that if Wilson continued in this vein, at best he ran the risk of knocking a cup of hot coffee into House's lap and at worst would require the assistance of a ventilator to regulate his breathing, momentarily regained control of the conversation.

'Doing it? What are you, twelve? I have absolutely no idea if they are dating and even less of an idea if they are partaking in acts of a strictly adult nature. But more importantly, I don't care about either of the afore-mentioned points.'

'You do! You SO do! Are you going to ask him in his performance review? Oh, let me sit in on this one. C'mon, you owe me. Maybe we could get him to discuss Cameron's performance whilst we have him cornered. I wonder if English guys do it differently.'

'Right, that's it. Fun's over. You know me, company guy and all. My lunch break, and this conversation are over. I was going to suggest meeting for a drink after work tonight, but given the fact you have just exhibited a number of signs which suggest to me you are not yet of an age to be allowed entry into a bar, I guess I'll just have to meet you in the schoolyard tomorrow.' House rose from his seat, whilst gathering his papers together. 'Chaos, panic and disorder, my work here is done.'

'Twenty bucks you think about this conversation whilst you're doing his review. And another twenty bucks you think about the possibility of them doing it before you even make it to the elevator. '

House adjusted his weight onto his cane, as he gave Wilson his best attempt at a withering look. 'If you're not of an age mentally where you'd be allowed to indulge in alcoholic beverages, you're certainly not eligible to gamble either. Doing it? Honestly!'

Wilson remained seated, grinning from ear to ear. He'd hit the nail on the head this time. He wasn't sure if Clarkson and Cameron were doing anything, but he could tell from House's reaction that he felt threatened in some way by Clarkson and his behaviour towards Cameron. Oh, he was going to have so much fun digging deeper on this one.

As House made his way across the dining hall, he cursed himself under his breath.

'Damn Wilson! How does he manage it? Reading me so well? How'd he know what I was thinking before I even thought it myself?' He made his way towards the elevator, pushing the button impatiently with the tip of his cane. And as he did so, he cursed himself again.

'Could they be doing it?'