Okay, meinen Liebchen. I'll continue it, but only until chapter thirteen. Oh, and I'm not intending toleave it unresolved (subject to change) as much as frustrating that it's taking so long. Anyway, I wanted this to show how House is thinking at this point. Um, it's actually angst-ish, only funny. I feel bad for this...tell me if it's just stupid, okay?...

I sat in my office, lights dimmed, occasionally hitting myself in the face with my oversized tennis ball.

Jimmy was still my friend. My best friend. But not in the same way. Thwap. And whose fault was that? He had known the night before; we weren't the same, not since the moment I thought the 'l' word. Thwap.

God, I couldn't even think it. From now on, the 'l' word will be described by something non-sexual, unromantic, and utterly without connotation. Oh, I have it.

Don't you dare laugh.

So this sudden-onset 'rubber ducky' was ruing my life, basically. I was all resolved! He had asked me point-blank, and I had said no, and he had accepted it! Things would have been better and easier if he wasn't so gullible. If he had thought, even once, that, oh yeah, I lie about sensitive things, right then would have been the perfect time to call me on a bluff! If you ask a question, be prepared for the answer! Thwap.

He had asked it rhetorically. Of course he wasn't prepared for an affirmative answer; he accepted my no without interruption of thought. Because you don't share a rubber ducky with your best friend. It's just not done; you could lose a friendship. A rubber ducky is meaningless if the person you want to share said rubber ducky with ha- (Thwap. I couldn't think this one either) possesses an anti-ducky. That way if you give the friend the innocent-bystander-ducky then he'll destroy the universe. Basic law of Star Trek; matter and anti-matter do not make pretty babies together.

Neither would we. I really needed to think this through. If Wilson eventually said yes, I wouldn't ever have kids, and neither would he. Was I willing to give that up? Thwap. Of course I was! I never really intended to have kids anyway. But what about Jimmy? I'd never talked about it with him. Or, if he had mentioned trying to get pregnant with a wife, I never listened.

Why would he want to share a rubber ducky with me? Damn. Why do I have to be such an ass all the time? I drove Stacey away, I drove Cameron away (albeit on purpose), and now I was driving Wilson away. Damn antisocial tendencies. They had never driven Wilson away before, but I crossed that damn line and said the rubber ducky word and now he was going to be distant and vague and I would have to find someone else to lean on when I wanted to break my hand.

"House?" Cameron poked her head through the doorway, peering in the dark. "What are you doing?"

I realized that I had been staring at the ball for five minutes straight without moving. Taking a deep breath, I replaced the toy and looked at her. "Just thinking. Why?"

"You looked like you wanted to kill yourself."

"Why would I want to do that?"

She sighed, and shook her head, but came into the room. "What's wrong?"

I let my cane thud onto the floor absentmindedly, as I studied her warily. "I'm not going to tell you."

"Don't be like that. Come on, spill, I can't have you beating yourself up over a girl." She sat in the chair on the other side of the room, leaning forward. "At least give me a name."

I faked enthusiasm, raising my eyebrows and nodding. "No."

She rolled her eyes and tried again. "Is it serious? She convinced you to wear a tie, for the beginning of the day, at least."

"I'm not very into girl talk. Ooo, wait, let me try. Oh my God, Becky, look at her butt, it is so big."

"How long?"

I wagged my finger. "Ah-ah-ah, you've got to be more specific."

She sighed, and asked, "How long have you two been going out?"

"We aren't." Hah, that question hurt more than expected. Good thing I'm naturally sarcastic, or that fake happiness would never have gone over well.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How long have you know her?"

"Ten long and uneventful years."

"Is it Stacey Warner? House, she's married, have some self-respect."

"It's not."

"Then who?"

"Not telling."

"You? You slept with someone and you refuse to tell anyone? It's amazing and aggravating all at once."

"Ah. That's the thing, we didn't sleep together."

She was about ready to ask something else when, low and behold, the target of my bothersome rubber ducky opened the door.

"Um, House, sorry, but Cuddy got me working again today," (No, he requested the end of his vacation. He was smiling and looking worried, so he was lying) "so I can't take a lunch break, since I was late getting in."

"Okay," I agreed immediately. He was avoiding me. Oh well. "Tomorrow, then. You have to give me all the juicy details of divorce court."

He looked confused for a second, and I nodded at Cameron. "Oh. Right, yeah. See you tomorrow."

And he left. Cameron was staring at me.

"What? Have I got bits of tennis ball on my forehead?" I sneered. "Or are you going to say something about having to ask this 'girl' of mine out?"

"No," she breathed. "You just got the most sappy look on your face."

"Are you sure you aren't hallucinating? Too many antidepressants will do that to you." I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

"God, House. I had no idea."

"You're not making sense. And that's not fair."

"House," she said quietly, as though someone was outside the door trying to listen, "you love Wilson."

"Do not."

"How do you explain that look, then?"

"God's will?"

She stood up. "You have to tell him, he's your best friend, he'll understand!"

I watched her for a moment. "Can't, the anti-ducky will destroy the universe." She was satisfactorily confused by that. "Tell me, if I broke my own hand, would you tell Cuddy?"

"What? Of course. Why, are you planning on doing that?"

I smiled ruefully. "No thanks, it hurt enough the first time." I got up and walked out, leaving her staring after me.

Damndamndamn. Now someone else knew. I was never going to hear the end of it.