Hi guys, I know a couple of you freaked out about the 6 years thing but it is for a reason. When I start writing a fic it always begins with a moment, a scene or sentence that gets into my head and everything else gets built around that one moment. That moment in this story, which is about 3 chapters away, is the reason it is 6 years. So enjoy, Hameron forever, as always, Nic

6

6 years later....

"One reuben as sir requested"

Wilson announced, bowing dramatically before handing the sandwich to House who sat at his desk, legs up in the image of complete relaxation.

"You know this crush you have on that canteen girl has turned out to be very beneficial. You've brought me lunch everyday for the last two weeks"

He grinned, unwrapping his sandwich and taking a bite.

"With friends like you who needs enemies?"

Wilson replied playfully before taking a bite from his own sandwich.

".........Anyway I don't have a crush"

He continued removing a can of coke from his pocket, shaking it lightly and throwing it to House, grinning at the inconvenience it would now cause.

"How old are you?"

"Not as old as you...... and I have more hair"

Wilson retorted, grinning broadly and taking another bite of his sandwich, earning a glare from House.

"Thinking of proposing yet? It's been like 8 years since you've been married. Isn't that like...illegal?

Wilson scowled, trying to control his impending smile and removed a tomato from his sandwich before throwing it at House, who ducked and grinned broadly, before taking another bite from his own.

"So, while we are on the subject of you taking advantage of my good nature, cough up my friend"

House shrugged his shoulders feigning confusion, taking another bite from his sandwich and forcing Wilson to elaborate.

"I've got the card and a $200 gift voucher"

House puffed out his lips, begrudgingly removing his wallet from his jeans and taking out two crumpled $50 bills before throwing them on to the desk. Wilson reached forward and took them, holding each up to the light and making a show of testing there authenticity before placing them in his own wallet.

"I don't know why we have to go dutch"

House whined, throwing his sandwich wrapper in to the waste bin.

"Because you've been working with the guy for the last 11 years and it's his wedding day"

House sighed loudly and leant back in his chair, putting his earphones in and turning up the volume. Wilson reached forward and pulled them out earning another glare in return.

"I was speaking with Foreman...."

"Isn't that something that occurs daily, did you really have to interrupt the Stones?"

"We were talking about the wedding"

"I'm not interested. I don't even want to go to this thing"

"You'll change your mind"

"No I won't"

He lifted his earphones towards to his ears once more but stopped at the sight of Wilson's grin.

"Ok I give in, why will I change my mind"

He asked, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Wilson grinned wider then, leaning back in his chair slowly and raising his feet to the desk, revelling in House's annoyance before finally giving in.

"Because Cameron is coming"

XXX

He closed his eyes and tried to let the cool evening breeze, seeping in from the open window, calm his mind. It was fruitless, each thought of her tumbling to the forefront of his mind loudly, each one eager to replace the last.

She consumed him.

Walking through every thought he possessed with the authority of someone who knew that they belonged there.

It had been six years since he had last seen her, save for the photos Wilson had often insisted on showing him upon his frequent returns from London, their friendship the only thing that had remained of the life she had once known here. He inhaled deeply and replayed the memory of the morning he had left her apartment and she had left his life. It was a memory that was now worn, label curling up at the edges with frequent use, fading slightly but it was still as clear to him now as the day he had stored it away. He remembered the soft kiss she had placed on his lips and the coolness of her fingers as she ran them through his hair and down his jaw line. He remembered the scent of vanilla that engulfed him when he hugged her, holding her until necessity over took desire and she broke free. He remembered the smile she had given him as he stole one more look at her as he walked away, her leaning against the doorframe, still wearing his t-shirt, watching him go. Finally, he remembered the emptiness that had settled within him as he met the late morning sunshine, unaware that it would never leave him.

She had changed.

She was a mother now, had an accomplished career and a new life in London but he still remained the same in all the places that counted. Six years later and he still had not figured out what he was meant to be, maybe this was it-the sum of his life.

She was everything he was not, a window into a life never meant for him but yet, as he lay here now watching the moonlight slowly creep across the room, he wondered if she still smelt of vanilla. When sleep finally found him, she consumed him still and he invited her willingly, holding the door to his soul open with a smile.