Heya!

Thanks for all the reviews, the last chapter was a bit pointless, but as timegoes by you'll see what I'm getting at. I hope.

I know my chapters are a little short, but my imagination tends to get dry pretty quickly.

Anyway, I'll dedicate the next post to whoever can find the bit in here that I thiught was highly amusing when I wrote it, but in actuality it's probably a flop

kat xxx

From the chair in his office, Greg House looked over the giant tennis ball he held in one hand, through a gap in the blinds and into the conference room, where he could see his only female duckling arrive.

Shaking out her hair, she hung up her coat and proceeded to fill the coffee pot.

Glancing over her shoulder she appeared to be shocked to see her boss watching her. She swallowed and walked towards his office.

"Dr. House, about yesterday, I'm sorry I wasn't here, but" she was interrupted.

"Spare me. Unless your story contains strippers, hookers, a deadly disease or a combination of the three, it's always safe to assume I'm not interested."

The younger doctor pursed her lips and walked back into the other room to greet her male colleagues.

Later on, in the cafeteria, Cameron considered the men sitting opposite her. Drs. Eric Foreman and Robert Chase were the closest things she'd ever had to friends. They worked together, ate lunch together, sometimes even went out for drinks after work together but they were still just colleagues. There was an invisible barrier that stopped them from becoming anything more. It had always been there, in her childhood, when she went of to college, even now.

Across the room sat Dr. James Wilson. How was it that even Greg House, the biggest SOB that ever graced the light of day could get a friend and she couldn't?

Everyone thought of friends as important people, otherwise no one would have bothered to manufacture 'Friends Forever' cards, friendship jewellery and all the other sentimental items found in gift-shops.

Songs were written about how you could never survive without them, but had the composers ever had to?

Alison Cameron had no friends.

At work Foreman and Chase kept her company and at home she had her two goldfish, Mr. Little and Officer Steady.

When she was younger she'd kept a diary, now when she felt the need to confide in someone she wrote letters. She never sent them, she didn't even know who they were to, but they helped.

Alison Cameron didn't need friends, she just wanted them.