Author's Note (Part One): I'm so sorry it's taken me forever to update-- I got sidetracked by my other story. Please forgive me! Again, thanks for all of the reviews, reads and alerts. It's like Christmas in July (or, rather, August now). There's some Huddy in this one and the Wilson stuff as I promised last time. Hope you enjoy! I don't own the 'House' crew.. if I did House and Cuddy would have jumped each other seasons ago.

Chapter 10

Cuddy knocked on the door to Wilson's office lightly, half desperately wanting to talk to her friend, half hoping that he didn't answer. Things had been awkward between them. Even though she tried to comfort him, be a shoulder to cry on, her days and nights had mostly been spent with House. When they were alone together, the presence of House in her life and of his absence in Wilson's filled the room. Deep down she worried that Wilson resented the time she was spending with House and was angered by it. She knocked again, this time a little louder, wondering what she would say, playing with her pearls.

"Come in," an exhausted voice answered.

Lisa gingerly opened the door to find a haggard Wilson completing his charts. He looked even worse than the day before, the circles under his eyes darker, the hair unrulier, his skin paler and the five o'clock shadow more pronounced. Withdrawal did not suit him.

"Hi," she said quietly, stepping in and shutting the door behind her.

"Hey," he replied with a tired smile.

"I was hoping you would go to lunch with me."

"It's nice of you to offer, but I've got so much paperwork. I really should catch up."

"Please come. I'd like to talk. It'll just be the two of us; I told House he had to fend for himself today at lunch."

"You're actually going to eat a meal without House? How will you survive?" he said sarcastically.

"I don't eat with him that often." Wilson raised his eyebrows. "It just works out that way sometimes."

"He's attached himself to your hip; believe me, I understand the condition. I experienced it for years, but now, I'm proud to say, I have been cured... and I don't expect to suffer the symptoms any time soon."

"Don't say that. You two will work things out. You always do."

"That's just the thing, Lisa, I'm not sure I want things to work out. I'm tired of cleaning up after House. I'm tired of having to accept his actions based on the reasoning that he's House and nothing more can be expected of him. I'm tired for forgiving him. I'm just tired," he finished with a sigh. "Can you blame me?"

"No, I can't," she smiled softly. "I know House can be horrible, but, occasionally, he can be less horrible. Sometimes he can be great."

"I need a break from him. A little time with no lunches, no consults, no bar, no bowling, no counseling, no loans, no House." She nodded sadly to signal her understanding. "But I could use a turkey club-- as long as you're buying."

"This time, but next week you have to pick up the tab."

He smiled as he stood, grabbing his pager from the desk drawer. "Next week? Are you sure you're allowed? I wouldn't want to get you in trouble with your boyfriend."

She playfully batted him on the arm and he feigned pain as they left his office, on their way to the cafeteria.

Idly eating his fries, House sat in the corner, watching Cuddy and Wilson have lunch at a table across the cafeteria. They had been talking more than eating; Wilson had picked at his sandwich and Cuddy had only taken a few bites of salad. Deep in some serious discussion, Cuddy's eyes were sympathetic as she reached over and squeezed Wilson's right hand. It was the fourth time she had touched him during their meal. House fought of his feelings of jealousy as he saw Wilson return the squeeze and the pair dropped hands, knowing that Cuddy was only offering friendly reassurance-- Or at least that what he told himself.

"What are we watching?," an unwelcome, familiar voice asked him. He briefly glanced over to see Juliana pull out a chair and sit down with a large bowl of frozen yogurt.

"I don't remember telling you you could join me," he grumbled, returning his eyes to the table across the room.

"I don't remember asking permission," she said sweetly.

"There are several other empty tables. Go sit at one of those."

"What are we watching?" she repeated.

"Didn't you hear me tell you—"

"Yeah, I heard you; I just chose to ignore you. Now, what are we watching?"

"Cuddy and Wilson," he stated, annoyed.

"That's who, I asked what."

"Cuddy and Wilson eating."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. The what and the why. I seem to remember being told that when you're studying someone those are the only questions that matter."

"God, you're annoying," he said, eating a fry .

She smiled, "Please. You know you love that I remember something you said years ago. It makes you feel like you taught me something, like you're smarter than me."

"I am smarter than you. Better looking, too."

"Only if we've somehow transported to the planet Htrae," she smirked. "What is it then? Friends sympathizing over a meal? Two doctors on the cusp of becoming more than colleagues?"

"The why is more interesting."

"The why is easy. Why they're eating together? Because Lisa feels like she's neglected Wil. She feels guilty and turning her down would make him feel guilty. Plus she wants to see how he's detoxing. Why you're watching? Because you're jealous and worried that it could be something more than a friendly lunch."

"I'm not jealous, I'm curious. They could rip off each other's clothes and have sex right on the table, I wouldn't care. I would, however, tape the act with my camera phone and post it on YouTube."

She laughed and then groaned, "He is into that kind of thing."

House raised his eyebrows and turned toward her, "What kind of thing?"

"I came home the other night and found him crying, watching a video he made with Amber."

"Wilson?!" House said in disbelief.

"It was all I could do not to run from the apartment screaming. Ughh," she shuddered in disgust. "Even though he was only crying... still... it is something I never needed to see and never want to see again. Ever. Never ever."

"He didn't tell me," House pouted.

"Is there a reason he should have?"

"We're friends. Friends tell those kinds of things to each other."

"I can't think of one friend I would tell if I made a sex tape."

"You're not a man. We tell our friends. Hell, we'd tell everyone we know."

"There is such a thing as discretion."

"There are no secrets between friends-- at least not when it comes to threesomes and homemade sex tapes. Those are the things men are required, by law, to tell the guys."

"Required by law, huh?"

"It's in the Bro Code. Right up there with 'a bro cannot sleeping with another bro's mom' and 'a bro must alert a bro of a girlfight.' You should check it out, it's good stuff."

"Do you think it's weird that House has been spying on us while he could be watching 'General Hospital'?" Cuddy asked Wilson, nodding to a table in the corner.

Wilson glanced over quickly, frowning, "It's House; if he was sitting there eating his fries not watching us, then I'd be worried. I do think it's weird that my sister is sitting with him and they haven't killed each other yet."

"She's really worried about you."

Wilson sighed, "I know."

"She's not the only one."

"I'll be fine. Really. There's nothing to worry about." He tried to sound sympathetic, but it came out exasperated.

"You'd let me know if you couldn't do this on your own, right?"

"I'm not an alcoholic," Cuddy looked at him skeptically. "I can admit that I might have a problem. But it's a problem I can handle on my own."

"If things get to be too hard," she said, taking his hand again, "I want you to come to me. We can work something out if you need to check--"

"I'm not House; I don't need rehab," Wilson insisted.

"At least let me prescribe you diazepam to help with the withdrawal symptoms."

"I don't want anyone to know. If you prescribe me diazepam people are going to be suspicious."

"I'll prescribe it to Jules. No one will have to know."

"It's not that bad. I just have some insomnia, nervousness--"

"I'm writing you a script. Jules can pick it up after three."

He smiled at her meekly, wanting to tell her how much it meant to him that she was so supportive, that she cared, but all he could manage was a weak "Thanks."

House narrowed his eyes as he saw Cuddy take Wilson's hand again, this time he squeezed hers and they remained linked. His view was soon impeded by an idiot in a labcoat. House glared up at Thirteen, who had come to discuss their patient.

"Do you mind? I was watching that," he said, moving her out of his line of sight with the end of his cane.

"The results of the secretion stimulation test are back. He definitely has Zollinger-Ellison Syndrome."

"Put him on omperazole and schedule another MRI to check for tumors," House said, preoccupied with Cuddy and Wilson.

Thirteen stepped in front of him again, "He won't let us treat him until he sees you. He wants some sort of guarantee that this is the right diagnosis, not another wrong one."

"There are no guarantees."

"That's what Foreman told him, but he only wants to hear it from you."

"Fine. I'll be up in a minute, as soon as I finish my fries."

"If you're not up in five minutes Foreman says he's going to come drag you up," Thirteen said, turing to leave.

"I'd like to see him try," he challenged. When his fellow left it allowed him to see that Wilson and Cuddy had vacated the premises.

"Told you," Jules gloated, scraping the side of her bowl with her spoon.

House shoved a few more fries in his mouth, "You shouldn't have quit. You were good."

"I was miserable."

"You can't just stop being a doctor because you're miserable."

"Why not?"

"Because you have a gift. You can do things that other doctors can't. You have an obligation to practice."

"Just because you can do something well doesn't mean that you should, doesn't mean that you have to," she said taking the last bite of her yogurt and standing up.

"Morally you--"

"Morally? Come on, House. Morally? If I had continued my residency, if I had gotten my license, I would have been an excellent doctor, no doubt. I would've been able to save some lives, who knows how many. But I would have been miserable. And after years of being miserable, I was ready to be happy." She tossed the bowl into the nearby trash can. "Don't underestimate happiness, House. You should try it. Who knows? Maybe you'd like it."

He watched her walk away, eating his last fry before heading up to see his patient.

Lisa was searching through her filing cabinet, trying in vain to find a copy of some report a member of the board requested. Her secretary was gone for the day and she had stayed late, again, to try and catch up on her work, though at the rate she was going it seemed like she would never finish. She was absently thumbing through a chart when she heard the familiar sound of a cane hitting the floor and felt hot breath on the back of her neck.

"Shouldn't you be at home?" he asked, inhaling deep to smell her hair. He fought the urge to step closer and pin her to the filing cabinet; reminding himself it was inconvenient to have those kinds of thoughts about your boss, about your friend.

Cuddy turned to face him, closing the top drawer as she did, "Am I ever home?"

"This is why it's good I drag you to bars. It's the only time you get to have any fun."

She walked to her desk, brushing up against him inadvertently as she did, "I can't. I've got too much work."

"Put it off until tomorrow," he said following her.

"That's what I have been doing. Now I'm drowning in paperwork. I have a board meeting in a couple of days and don't have anything done for it."

"You know I don't like going to bars by myself," he said truthfully. Drinking alone didn't have the same kind of appeal as it once did since the accident. Now he avoided it at all costs.

"I'm sorry, House. Why don't you ask Kutner or Taub to get a beer?"

"I don't want to drink with them. I want to drink with you. Besides, it's not like we've seen each other much today; you spent all afternoon holding Wilson's hand," he whined.

"Wilson's my friend, he needed someone to talk to," she said, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper in front of her.

"I'm your friend and I need someone to drink with."

"House, I have to finish this paperwork before Thursday."

"Do it tomorrow."

"I won't be able to finish it all at work tomorrow."

"So stay after tomorrow night instead. Tell you what, you come out drinking with me tonight and tomorrow night I'll hang around here with you while you finish all your boring paperwork. I'll even spring for Chinese."

She raised her eyebrows skeptically, "You're going to pay for something?"

"I pay for things all the time."

"Since we've been drinking together you've never paid. Not once, not even for yourself."

"And yet you still come out with me," he grinned. "You must really like my company."

"Not tonight. Tonight, I have work to do."

House walked to the coat rack, pulled off her jacket and tossed it to her. "Come on. Have a beer tonight and tomorrow we can both be bored." When she remained unmoved he added, "I'll even work on my charts."

"I don't believe you."

"Scout's honor," he said, holding up two fingers.

"I think that means 'rock on.'"

He extended the thumb, keeping his other fingers in the same place. "Scout's honor."

"That means 'I love you' in sign language," she smiled. He lowered his hand quickly.

"Whatever the sign is. I promise to do my charts tomorrow and buy us Chinese. Now come on."

She studied him for a moment, then stood up and grabbed her purse. She slipped out of her labcoat, putting it on the coatrack. "If you don't show up tomorrow night you owe me fifteen extra clinic hours."

"How many do I get taken off when I show up?"

"None," she replied, slipping on her jacket.

"Now that's just mean." He grinned at her as he left the office. She was right behind him, pulling the door shut after her.

Author's Note (Part Two): I promise to update this story a little faster next time. Hopefully I won't get sidetracked again. Huddy and Chinese take-out next time! Yay!