Two months later

"House."

"Wilson."

"Seriously, House."

"Seriously, Wilson."

"Why my clothes? You don't even like my clothes."

"Yes I do. I just don't like them on me." As if to prove my point, the corners of my mouth turned down in a slight frown as I rolled up the sleeves on one of Wilson's shirts.

He was lying on the bed, propped up on one elbow to look at me. "Why don't you just wash your clothes on a regular basis?"

"I forgot."

"No you didn't because you tried to slip your band shirts in with my whites which, I remind you, do not go together."

"Whoops." I sat down beside him and felt under the bed for my Nikes. There was a sudden sharp stabbing sensation in my thigh and I inhaled harshly through my nose at the flare of pain.

Wilson sat up beside me, waiting patiently for me to get ready. "I've been thinking."

"About?"

"Us. I think we should take a break and go somewhere."

"Where exactly is somewhere and since when do you up and leave your patients?"

He stood in front of me, hands on hips, with a look of excitement spreading across his face. "We should take a week and head over to Boston. And I've finished three cases; Dumas can take the rest for a week."

"You've already set this up, haven't you?" A smile tugged the corner of my mouth.

"I've already asked Cuddy for the time off and you don't have any patients, or patient I should say, so this would be the perfect time."

I shrugged. "Sounds good. When do we leave?"

"Three days." He grinned.

(break)

"Are you and Wilson dating?"

I looked up from the computer screen, startled by the sudden intrusion and the bizarre question that followed. "Yeah, it's part of a new exercise to relieve stress. See, by dating Wilson I found that it reduces my stress by at least half. You should try it. I'll let you borrow him for a day."

"No thanks. Wilson's not my type." Chase smiled. "I figured you liked him."

"What gave us away?" I turned back to face the screen, resting my elbow on the desk and leaning my head against the fist I made. "Was it the fact I'm wearing his shirt?"

"And that you've always maintained a five inch space which you broke yesterday when you went into your office. And his hand brushed yours. I know you felt it because I saw you smile afterwards." Chase sat down on the opposite side as he tried a worthless attempt at smothering a smug grin that was plastered on his face.

"Great observation." I spoke with no sense of interest and went back to reading the French article on the latest discoveries in brain surgery.

His brow furrowed and his mouth twisted in a frown. "I have to say that I find it a little weird especially since I thought Wilson was…" He shook his head as if that would finish the sentence.

Despite myself, I became interested. "What about Wilson?"

"I thought Wilson was into blondes that's all." He grinned broadly as he ran a hand over his close-cropped hair.

There was something uncertain in his voice. I knew he was lying and was preparing for nothing short of mental torture to get the truth when I saw Wilson turn the corner and stop at my door, hand paused on the handle. He waited as a nurse came up to hand him a file, strands of her blonde hair falling out of a ponytail and the point of her v-neck in dangerous territory. Without meaning to, I wondered whether or not there was something to Chase's comment.

"I might just bleach my hair then." I put on a false smile and unintentionally clenched my hands into fist and brought them together on the desk before me.

"You don't have the looks for it." He said jokingly bit there was no humor in it as he glanced at the fists I had made.

Quickly, I relaxed the fists and asked, "Did you get what you come for or did you want to ask about my sex life next?"

There was a twitch in his nose and a horrified expression flashed across his face momentarily that made me suppress a laugh. "No, actually I came because today's Friday."

I had completely forgotten it was Friday. I don't know how it happened or even why but every week, usually Fridays, Chase and I went out for lunch. I suppose it started a couple months ago, when he first suggested we do lunch. I can't say I mind it though; I never mind free food.

"I'm feeling a Reuben. Let's do the restaurant across from the pub."

"They took Reuben of the menu." He leaned back and crossed his arms comfortably across his chest.

"No they didn't." I argued, glancing at the door to see Wilson had moved a few feet away and was chatting amiably with the nurse.

"We went last week and they waiter even said they took it off. That was the week you told the guy in the next booth he had lung cancer."

"Really? I thought that was three weeks ago."

"Three weeks ago I had to dodge a beer bottled because someone thought I made an inappropriate comment about his wife"

I shrugged. "I give compliments where compliments are due. Anyway, the guy wouldn't stop coughing. Obviously, something was wrong."

"Doesn't mean you tell him he's dying."

"I didn't tell him he's dying I told him he had lung cancer."

He gave a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes but a hint of a smile was on his lips. "You know, there are rules for certain social situations. You should learn them. I think it would be a big help."

"Then you wouldn't have nearly as much fun."

A slight nod indicated that he conceded to this latest statement. He turned his head as the door hissed open and rose to his feet. "I'll see you at the usual time then."

"We'll take my bike."

"Maybe next week." He smiled and nodded a greeting to Wilson on his way out.

"What was that?" Wilson asked when Chase had left.

"Lunch date."

He nodded in understanding. "I almost forgot. I had so hoped I would have you to myself this afternoon." He said with a grin.

I laughed briefly in amusement and gazed past him to see Chase chatting with the nurse Wilson had been previously talking with. I bowed my head slightly to look at them through the veil of my lashes. Chase couldn't tell I was watching him and glanced my way. The look on his face unnerved me. I looked up at Wilson's smiling face and couldn't wait until I was alone with him.

AN- My muse has left but I will continue to write! One, maybe two, chapters left. Honestly, I don't know anymore.