Disclaimer- Mr. Shore, please let me have them. Just for a while. I'll give 'em back, honest.

Friday 11.58am Cafeteria

House sat lazily flicking through a report on the Fry case. He had decided to lay in wait for Wilson, who as a perennial creature of habit, would soon make his routine appearance at noon. Such a stickler. A little under forty-eight hours had passed since his tense lunchtime rendezvous with Cameron, at the very same table.

She had kept her distance ever since, only engaging in conversation with him in the presence of others and never regarding anything other than work. He had tamed his snarkiness somewhat, she had been less than forthcoming on offering up any sort of opinions on whatever medical topic was under discussion. The other three had picked up on the marked downturn in atmosphere and had seemed edgy, keen to keep their heads down as much as possible and scamper eagerly out the door as soon as the clock hit five-thirty.

True to form, Wilson appeared, placing his full tray down alongside House's empty one. House ran an inquisitive eye over its contents.

'Oh goody, tuna sandwiches again. Cup of tea. Health food bar. Whoa, I bet your adrenaline levels are soaring right now. What with this exciting rock 'n' roll diet of yours.'

'Well, it just didn't feel right to bring vodka jelly and a carton of Marlboro to the table. But hey, if it makes you happy, I'll bear it in mind for Monday.'

House smiled. 'You still on for later?'

Wilson, heartily tucking into his sandwich, looked up. 'Naturally. How could I miss the tempting prospect of another liquor-sodden evening in a smoky, overpriced bar with you running your 'end of the world is nigh' speech past me for the umpteenth time.'

'Well, you know me, just keeping it real.' House followed the direction of Wilson's gaze, alighting on a petite blonde woman, who was grinning eagerly back at him. 'And she would be…?'

Wilson felt himself blush, and looked back down at his lunch. 'Her name is Kristi, she's a dental assistant and she brought her cousin in for a routine check up about thirty minutes ago.'

'You got all that from the grin she just gave you? You're good!' He paused. 'Did you have it specially written into your vows that you would continue to spread the Wilson-love far and wide after your marriage? What extra-marital rights did Julie have factored in?'

'I am merely being friendly,' Wilson replied. 'Smiling is a good thing, House. As is being nice to someone. You could try it, see how it feels. Start off with a little baby-step, you know, just muster up a semi-smile Then crank it up a gear and try saying something that isn't derisory and before you know it, you can play with the grown ups and attempt a compliment. Careful, there'll be no looking back once you have made that transition.'

'Smiling's overrated. And nice is not a word I choose to include in my vocabulary. There is also a difference between exchanging social pleasantries and leering at impressionable young women, mentally rating them on the Wilson-scale of do-ableness.'

'I was not rating her. I was simply acknowledging a thing of beauty in the same way you cannot walk past a bike shop without dribbling.'

'Duh. You got me. Nailed the flaw in my argument with your rapier-like insight.'

House's attention was briefly diverted when he saw Cameron appear in the queue, alongside Dr. Clarkson. Laughing about something, he noted. Ha! Clearly over her little crush on me, moved on. Phew, lucky escape. Wilson, aware that House was distracted followed his line of vision.

'Oh hell. Johnny still loves Baby. Baby has her eye on Robbie. I know how this one's going to turn out.'

'Ok. Is that statement supposed to mean something to me? And who am I in that ridiculous metaphor? Please tell me I'm not Baby.'

Wilson rolled his eyes. 'No, you are not Baby. And I'm pretty sure Johnny would leave you for dead on the dance floor. Haven't you two sorted things out yet?'

House, still focusing his attention on the queue, replied, 'Nothing to sort out. Water under the bridge. She had an itch that needed scratching. Guess my nails weren't long enough.'

'Denial. So very you! OK, fine, have it your way.' Seeing Cameron and Clarkson making their way out of the queue, Wilson loudly called her name.

'What are you doing?' House snarled.

'Water under the bridge, you just said. You won't mind me calling them over to join us will you?'

Cameron, startled by the sudden bellowing of her name from an unseen presence, spun her head round sharply, and saw Wilson and House sat in their usual window seat. Wilson was beaming at her and making wild hand signals, House appeared to be trying to lower his upper body into a full tuck diving position. She contemplated ignoring the call by pretending she had an imaginary child tugging on the back of her skirt, but Clarkson was carrying their tray, and had already made a bee-line in that direction. Left with no option if she wanted to eat her lunch, she wearily followed his lead.

Wilson gestured to Clarkson to join them, pulling out the chair next to him and patting it eagerly. Clarkson obliged by putting his tray down and making himself comfortable, as Cameron reluctantly took the other seat, directly between House and Wilson. As Clarkson placed her Caesar salad and mineral water in front of her, she turned to Wilson.

'Dr. Wilson, you needed me for something?'

'I need a favour. Julie's sister is coming to town this afternoon, she's staying with us for a few days. Trouble is Julie just called to say she has to work late this evening unexpectedly and she doesn't want Sarah to be alone in a strange city. I just wondered if you weren't doing anything, if you'd be able to keep her company. You know, just settle her in. That's if you haven't already got plans.'

Cameron was caught off guard. She didn't have any plans. In fact she couldn't remember the last time she had any plans to speak of on a Friday night. But she wasn't keen to admit that fact in front of House, even though the chances of him hearing it were slim as he had all but turned his back on her and appeared to be showing an unhealthy level of interest in the back of Dr. Munro's head on the next table.

'Well, I, erm…'

'I know it's short notice, but I only got the call twenty minutes ago. And I know you'd get on really well with her. I'd be really grateful.'

Unable to resist the fact that Wilson was doing his utmost to widen his eyes to the size of saucers, she hesitantly agreed.

'Great. You ok to get over to ours or did you want me to come get you?'

House sighed heavily. How did Wilson do it? What mystical power did he possess that women never refused his requests, no matter how off the wall? Maybe he brought out their maternal instincts or perhaps it was the length of time he spent with terminally ill people, all that sentimentality that had rubbed off on him, that the ladies found so attractive.

Cameron considered her options thoughtfully. 'Actually if it's no bother, it might be better if you could pick me up from mine. It's just by the time I get back from the gym, it might be cutting it fine for me to get across town to you.'

House stared harder at the back of Munro's head. Normally he would have used the opportunity of such a rare and uninterrupted view of his much older colleagues follicles, to ascertain the truth behind the commonly held belief that Munro wore a hairpiece. However, House was far too busy trying to block the mental image which had suddenly whipped into his mind, that of Cameron in her Lycra on a treadmill. Oh hell, he thought, I'm regressing to adolescence. Enough, pull it together.

He turned to face her, surprised to find her face inches from his, staring intently at the top of his head. 'You know this fanatical desire for exercise you have is merely a diversionary tactic, it's masking unresolved issues.'

'Gee thanks Sigmund. I didn't know the Caesar came with a side helping of psychoanalysis. Next time, maybe I'll order the quarter pounder and fries.'

House gave her a withering smile as he slowly rose from his chair. 'People to see, places to go,' he muttered as he cast an equally dismissive glance at Wilson. 'I'll catch up with you later, Doc, ' he said, nodding at his friend. 'That is if you can bear to tear yourself away from Dr. Cameron in her leotard and come out to play with ol' Limpy here.' Cameron rubbed her head in frustration as she watched House shuffle off in the direction of the elevators, wondering what would happen next. What rabbit she had to pull out of the hat to make him finally admit to the feelings she believed he had for her, before the minute spark they had ignited was extinguished by his unrelenting obstinacy once and for all.