-1"What's wrong Greg?" Rosemary Smith looked concerned. "You seem depressed."

"Aren't we all?" came the answer, not quite what she had expected.

"Unusually depressed," she said, hoping to get a proper answer out of her date.

"You've known me for two hours, tops," he said. "Who are you to decide that I seem unusually depressed?"

"Hey, I'm asking the questions here!"

"If someone walked through that door right now," House said. "He wouldn't know you were asking the questions."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Rosemary looked puzzled.

"Oh, never mind," House sighed and took a sip of his coke. He longed for a scotch, or maybe even a cold beer, but he had to drive Rosemary home. She had made that clear the moment he arrived outside her door.

"Here, the car is yours," she had said and dropped the keys into his hand. "You're driving."

"Come on," she said, pulling House back from his trip down Memory Lane. "What's up?"

"My friend had a stroke," House confessed. "Or something like it. A blood clot somewhere between the brain and chest."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"People have been saying that to me for two days now," House mumbled. "We're not married!"

"Excuse me?" Rosemary interrupted. "I can't hear you when you mumble like that."

"I couldn't care less. Ah, finally! The food is here!" House called out in joy. He had been waiting for a reason to be quiet all evening.

"I never liked steak," Rosemary said, picking in her own salad. "You would think I was a vegetarian." House didn't look up from his plate, just nodded and continued to chew. The quicker he ate, the quicker he could drive her home and never talk to her again.

"I'm so sorry about your friend," she continued. "Were you close?"

"I don't know," House said and swallowed. "If you don't mind, I'm used to eating alone, and I don't really talk to myself that much, so could you just shut up for just about ten minutes or so?"

"I don't know," she answered. "I'm just trying to make conversation. It is after all a date. We're here to get to know each other."

"No, I'm here because you threatened to stalk me if I didn't say yes," House corrected her. "I'm doing this for the hospital."

"You haven't been on a date for a very long time, have you?" There was a pause. A long, embarrassing pause.

"I don't see how that's any of your business." He looked her straight in the eyes and she shook her head.

"You are impossible," she said at last. "Absolutely impossible."

"I warned you!"

"I couldn't be happier right now," she said and put a piece of lettuce in her mouth.

---

"I swear, it was awful," House told Wilson. "She called me Greg and asked me personal questions." Wilson didn't say anything. "I mean, she called me GREG. Only you and my mother call me Greg. Oh, and Cuddy when she gets serious. But to anyone else, it's Dr House. Or House."

"I'm sorry, doctor," a nurse interrupted. "I just have to check his IV before I leave."

"I'll do it," House offered. "But I'm telling you this, I'm not exchanging his pee-bag."

"His pee-bag?" House pointed. "Oh, that's a pee-bag." The nurse laughed. When she had gone, House checked the IV.

"I hope this is right," he squinted. "Yeah, that should do." He leaned his chin on the cane. "I tell you, Jamie, as much waste of time that date was, I can't say I won't do it again." he looked at Wilson's hair. "You need a shower, dude," he said and left.