"You find an apartment?"
Cameron sticks the yogurt covered spoon in her mouth to buy her some time as she raises her eyebrows.
"You're kidding me."
With a small shrug, she watches Wilson roll his eyes before shaking his head softly. "I've got time," she replies around the spoon on her tongue.
"You've got less than a month before your baby comes."
"Plenty of time."
He pointedly stares at her and she returns the expression with an extra squint. Cameron rolls up the aluminum cover of her yogurt and flicks it at him, smiling as he breaks his gaze and scoffs.
"Nice chest, House."
"Thank you. Saleswoman said it'd take a miracle to look like I had chest, but she doesn't know how genius I can be."
Wilson and Cameron both turn to House who begins to sit between them at the lunch table with a banana in his hand.
"What? Are they uneven? I should've known better than to take Cuddy's tips."
"Did you pay for your food?"
"No."
Wilson frowns softly. "Then how'd you get that banana?"
"Shifted the other one over."
"I'm sure that wasn't too hard," Wilson smirks.
"Cameron knows." House winks at her. "Go on and tell him sweetheart."
"I think I'm going to be sick," Cameron breathily states as she stands.
Sticking a grape in his mouth, Wilson tilts his head, saying, "Still got the magic touch, I see."
House follows her figure as it disappears past the entrance to the cafeteria, taking a quick bite before looking back to Wilson.
"What'd she eat?"
"Uh, the yogurt."
Picking the empty container up, he rolls his eyes. "No wonder. She's supposed to be eating whole cows and ice cream with pickles."
"There's nothing wrong with eating yogurt."
"Women use pregnancy as a blameless get out of jail fat free card to eat whatever they usually don't allow themselves."
"Right, because you've been around so many pregnant women."
"Because I'm a doctor. And because I don't have to be around your hotel room to know it reeks of desperation."
"True, since you smell it on yourself all the time."
With a swift toss, House rids his hand of the banana peel, watching it land on the floor.
"I walked into that one."
"Pretty much."
"You don't want her do you?"
"Guh," Wilson chokes out, pounding his chest as the bitter taste of the coffee burns his mouth and warms small spots on the front of his shirt. "What?"
"Nevermind."
With a quick jerk of his arm House stands up and walks away, leaving Wilson to stare at the empty place beside him.
"What the hell was that?"
"Trying to sleep here."
"House!"
Wilson grabs the hem of the blazer covering the semi-reclined man's head and body and jerks it away.
"What, Wilson?!"
"Why would you even – there's no – she's your –."
"It's really annoying when you think I can finish your sentences."
"And it's really annoying when you ask me if I want the woman who's about to pop your kid out. Who asks that?"
"I don't know. Maybe some poor schmuck who knows a guy, who knows a girl that they both know and finds out the girl is pregnant with the schmuck's kid and thinks about raising it as his own? Since, obviously, the guy's a schmuck."
"Are you ever going to let this go?"
Wilson rubs his forehead as House stands, watching the man limp forward without his cane.
"I'm sorry, House. I was wrong. What else do you want me to say? What can I say or do to make this better?!"
"If you could just rewind a few months, that'd be awesome."
Forcing one hand into his pocket, Wilson shakes his head, taking one step towards the door before thinking better of it and turning towards House.
"I don't have feelings for Cameron."
"Did you?"
It doesn't matter. They both know it. But House just wants to know, wants to know how close he was to being perfectly ignorant, maybe even perfectly betrayed. And Wilson doesn't want to admit how, for a just a moment, he wanted things to stay as they were, secretive and useful.
"She was just looking for someone to be friends with."
"And you let her come to you."
"The woman was a wreck."
With a quick jerk of his lips, House rests against his desk. "And you loved that, right?"
"I'm there for the people I care about. You know that better than anyone."
"Did you ever feel guilty?"
He stares at House, his mouth slowly slackening at the question. Of course he did. Every day he sat beside that nearly lifeless bed he felt the guilt eating him alive for something he hadn't even done. He decides to turn the question around since he's not the only one who needs to rectify his actions.
"Do you?"
House doesn't expect it. He should, considering his best friend knows him better than anyone else.
"Everyone knows I don't have feelings."
"If you didn't, we wouldn't be standing here."
"No, we'd be standing in Cuddy's office laughing about her granny panties."
"Is it really so hard to admit that the reason you care is because you're not over her?"
There's silence, though neither is surprised this time.
"She couldn't have you so she came to me. Not so illicit after all. Kind of sad really."
As Wilson walks out, he wonders if this is the last time they'll have to have this conversation. They usually don't have to do this – revisit the scene of a crime, since it's easier to not think about it. But if this is what it takes, then he'll do it.
"Leaving so early?"
His fingers deftly zip his backpack closed and he stares at the clasps, waiting to hear her close the door bearing his name. Turning, he swings one strap over his shoulder.
"It's not even four. I'm leaving late."
Cameron nods her head softly, not even giving in to the urge to roll her eyes.
"I figured Cuddy would have you down in the clinic to make up for your coma hours."
He can't even stop the small smile until it's too late. "She feels sorry for me."
"You're kidding me."
"Nope," he takes a few steps toward her. "Isn't that neat?"
"More like exploitation."
"Which makes it so much funner."
"You ever going to let Wilson off the hook?"
Why is it they keep throwing him curves?
"What'd he tell you?"
She steps forward with a shrug of her shoulders, both hands clasped behind her back.
"Not enough to stop me from coming to you."
The way she looks up at him, worry barely hiding behind her eyes, makes him glance behind her at the realization she might be here for Wilson's sake. She might be here to protect someone she wants in her child's life.
"Why do you care?"
"Because you do."
It's said without hesitation, making the statement sound as true as he thinks she believes it is. He knows she never lies if she can help it. Even though she did lie to him before, he's known her long enough to expect the truth more often now.
"It's just guy stuff."
Her eyes search his face, looking for anything really since it's been so long and by now it's habit, a habit that's itching to be used.
"You really think I'd let him be the dad to your child?"
Of course, Cameron already knows the answer. She just wants to hear him say it. She wants him to hear it himself and maybe recognize how ridiculous it sounds.
"It's not a bad choice. He's a doctor, has money, would love the blob more than anything else, won't hurt the kid, would listen to you and the kid, plus he's dependable and stable."
"Well," she comes closer to him, stopping an angry pen trying to escape from a pocket by pushing it back in and zipping the pocket tightly.
"Are you mad at him, or yourself?"
He looks down at her, not realizing how intense his look is becoming until she begins to back away from him with a downward shift of her eyes.
The unanswered question fades as she walks out and he's left standing.