Cameron traced her finger along the rim of her coffee mug. She could hear House in the next room, sighing heavily every few seconds. It was really starting to annoy her. Foreman was sitting at the table, trying to concentrate on the book in front of him. Cameron could see his eyes squeezing shut, trying hard to ignore House. He had been sullen every since Emily had left. Cameron had watched Emily shouting at House, her eyes locked on him with the very same angry glint that House often sported. As much as she wanted to know, Cameron knew better than to ask House what had been the subject of their meeting. Cameron peered into her swirling dark coffee, wondering how long it would be until House could be open with her.

"Is House here?" Wilson held the door open with his shoulder, nervously twisting a finger. Cameron glanced pointedly towards the glass wall, where you could clearly see House in the next room, sulking. Wilson followed her gaze. "Oh…right." He nodded and went into the office, startling House. Normally House would have ordered Wilson out, refusing to answer any questions. But Wilson's face was all anxiety, and House knew that Wilson was having his own problems. "You think it's a bad idea." His voice was flat, his eyes empty.

"I do," House answered. Wilson closed his eyes, carefully breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. In. Out. "Wilson…You know it will only turn out badly. Every time it's turned out badly."

"But I've never had…It's a baby, House. A baby needs a whole family," Wilson said softly.

"You'll only risk hurting it later. Your child and Lisa both."

"Lisa thinks we could do it." He said this so quietly that House was sure he had misheard it.

"You've asked her? Already?" Wilson nodded slowly. "So what are you asking me for?"

"You're my friend. I want your advice." He paused, not sure if he should add the next part. "And so does Lisa." House refused to believe this. Cuddy would not base her answer to a marriage proposal on his opinion. It was absurd.

"I don't believe you."

"It's true," Wilson said, smiling a little. House sighed, eyeing his friend. Maybe it was possible that Wilson had found the one he would adore for all time. Maybe it was possible that House was happy for them both. Maybe.

"Congratulations, then." He offered his right hand out to Wilson, who took it.

"Thank you, Greg. From both of us."

Cameron and Foreman watched on from the conference room. Cameron spotted Cuddy leaning against the pillar where she was invisible to anyone in House's office, but where she could still spy on them. Her hands were gripping her stomach, as though it would fall to the floor if she moved her hands.

"She looks like she's going to explode," Foreman commented, eyeing Cuddy.

"Shhhhh…" Cameron was sure she couldn't hear them, but an overemotional Cuddy was reason to be extra careful. "She's still got a few more weeks." Foreman shook his head, returning his attention back to his book. Cameron looked back into the office. Wilson dropped House's hand, and got to his feet. He was smiling, so it was a safe bet that House had told him what he wanted to hear. Cameron was curious, to say the least, and waited until both Cuddy and Wilson disappeared down the hallway, hand in hand, before going into House's office. He was leaning back in his chair, chewing on a pen. He didn't even glance at Cameron as she took the spot where only moments before Wilson had been.

"What was that all about?" she asked as casually as possible.

"Wilson…he…"House removed the pen. "Wilson thinks he wants to marry Cuddy." House said this as though Wilson wanted to drop Cuddy in an icy river rather than commit himself to her for the rest of his life. Cameron wasn't shocked though. In fact, she looked relieved.

"It's about time." House sat up straighter, so that Cameron could better see the glare. "Oh, come on, House. You know as well as me that they needed to do something."

"I can't believe you." He said it with a tiny smile, to let her know that he was not completely annoyed for her not seeing the potential disaster. They sat for a moment, smiling at each other, until finally they drifted back into reality. House glanced into the conference room, glad to see that Foreman had left. "Do you want me to cook tonight, or should we order in?"

"Lasagna?" she asked with a coy smile.

"Lasagna it is."


The next morning Cameron sat on the edge of House's bed, clutching her stomach. Her insides were churning, and she was sure that any second her stomach would be ejecting its contents all over the carpet. She glanced over her shoulder at House, who was snoring softly. Clapping a hand tightly over her mouth, she struggled to her feet and bolted for the bathroom. She closed the door, but House could still hear her retching. He cracked an eye open, trying to focus his eyes on the clock. 6:37. Reaching for his pills, he threw back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Cameron had left the door unlocked, allowing House to go in and sit on the edge of the tub.

"Lasagna not sitting well?" he asked, gathering her hair and holding it behind her head. Cameron groaned against the toilet seat. This was not an attractive state to be in, but she was grateful to have House holding her hair back, and gently rubbing her back. "I'll go get you some water," he said softly, after a few minutes. She spit a few times into the toilet then leaned against the side of the tub. House came back with a tall glass of ice water and a damp washcloth. Cameron took the water and sipped slowly as House pressed the washcloth against her forehead.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she croaked.

"Don't worry about it…Are you OK now?"

"Yeah. I think so." House nodded, and pushed himself back to his feet.

"I'm going to make some breakfast. Do you want something?" Cameron raised an eyebrow at him. "Right. Never mind." He shut the door behind him, leaving Cameron to clean up.

Cameron held the washcloth in her hands, trying to breathe. She recognized the early morning nausea, but refused to let her thoughts run that way. It was just the dinner, just like House had said.

House stood in front of the stove in just his boxers, flipping pancakes. He turned when he heard Cameron shuffle into the kitchen and grinned.

"You'll want to try these," he said, pointing the spatula at a golden brown pancake in the pan. "They're amazing." Cameron smiled, setting her water on the counter.

"Maybe a little one."

"That's more like it." He pulled a plate from the cupboard and slid a vinyl record-sized pancake onto it. "Butter? Syrup?" he asked, turning to her. Cameron nodded, grimacing at the size of the pancake. He dipped a knife into the small tub of butter and spread it over the pancake and then held the bottle of syrup above it and squeezed. "You'll love this." He handed her the plate along with a knife and a fork.

"You're going to kill me," she said, but she took the plate and went to the table. She cut off a tiny piece and hesitantly took the bite. Her eyes closed as she savored the taste.

"Amazing?" House asked, sitting down across from her with his own plate. She rolled her eyes at him.

"It's OK."

"Bull."

"OK fine," she said, smiling. "You're pancakes are so delicious, I am sure that I will never be the same again."

"Much better." He took a bite, chewing slowly. "You should know by now that my ego needs feeding."

Cameron ate a small way into the pancake, until her stomach threatened to fight back again. She groaned and pushed the plate away. She actually prayed that whatever was making her stomach so uneasy was only a onetime thing. She couldn't go for very long without House's breakfasts. But far more pressing was the fear of what it would be if this weren't a onetime thing.

Not knowing is sometimes the worst thing that can befall a person.