A/N: My profuse thanks to the ever-fabulous iyimgrace for helping me "iron out" stuff about this chapter. Comes back to where Mistery (Chapter 6) left off before the flashback. House asks Cameron if she wanted to meet Her, and this picks up later that day. Second section on is Wilson's POV. Enjoy!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cameron smoothed her t-shirt nervously with one hand as the other balanced boxes of pizza as she stood outside a handsome cherry door with gold lettering declaring it to be belonging to S. Khan. She could hear muted music and loud voices behind the door as she lifted her fist to knock on the door.
"It's open!" House's voice sounded through. Smiling slightly, she twisted the doorknob and entered.
Boxes. Boxes lined the periphery of the small living room, filled with clothes, books, bits of unassembled furntiture. She found an empty spot to place her offering and ventured deeper.
"Hello?"
"Kitchen!" This time the voice was female.
She came into the decently sized kitchen to find House sitting on the floor, drinking, was that soda? The young woman she was to meet today stood behind the tiny island, organizing cutlery into various drawers.
"Cameron," She looked at House. He nodded to the other woman, who looked up and seemed to suddenly realize she had a guest.
"Good afternoon, Dr. Cameron, I'm so sorry the place looks like Katrina just swept through," she began, and Cameron exhaled the breath the didn't realize she was holding and smiled.
"Unclench," House ordered, and for a second Cameron thought the admonishment was aimed at her until she saw the sheepish look on the other woman's face. "It's just Cameron."
Cameron smiled at this, clasping the extended hand but not shaking. "He's right, you know, it's just me. Allison Cameron, we haven't been formally introduced yet."
The other woman laughed.
"Well, just Cameron, Sairah Khan. Pleasure to meet you."
"Allison."
"Sairah, then." Both women smiled at each other.
"I brought pizza," she offered, smiling back at the sigh of relief that came from Sairah.
"Thank you, Allison, but you really shouldn't have. Greg was just contemplating making the traditional 'moving' lunch."
"Leftovers, then."
"Great," House quipped. "That lets me off the hook."
Cameron snorted. "Were you really going to cook?"
"I doubt 'moving' meals can be considered cooking, but yeah, to stop the whining."
"Yours or hers?"
"Mine," Sairah interjected. "It's been forever since I had one, so I was trying to make him get supplies."
Allison perched herself on the countertop. "Do I want to know?"
"Probably not," they chorused.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"How are your furniture assembly skills?"
"I left my decoder ring in the office, House."
"Wilson. How are your furniture assembly skills?"
"You bought new furniture?"
"Oh thank God, I thought I had to repeat myself again."
"Hanging up!"
"Sai needs your help." The spoon in Wilson's hand stopped just below his mouth, milk cascading back into the bowl it came from. He heard female voices and laughter in the background. One of the voices got clearer and closer.
"That's completely unesscary, Greg, put the phone down. I'm sure Dr. Wilson has better things to do, and Allison is plenty of help."
"Too bad you can't assemble furniture for nuts."
"That's why I have you, haven't I?" The voice got louder. "My apologies, Dr. Wilson."
"He doesn't need your apologies."
"True, he really doesn't, but you're going to have to introduce her sometime," a new female voice joined the mix he recognized as Cameron's.
"Hence assembling furniture. He might as well make himself useful in the process."
"Gregory House, model of pragmatism. Dr. Wilson, I really don't need any help, but you're welcome here anytime." "Sai" sounded apologetic. He heard... shrieking?. An image of House tickling the young woman sprang unbidden to his mind.
"She'd probably like to meet the man who's been handling House for a..." Wilson couldn't see it, but Cameron was making quotes around the word "handling".
"Decade," interjected House.
"..decade," finished Cameron.
"Uh, okay." Was all he could say.
"Fabulous," House's voice sounded again. "2100 Tammaron Drive, and bring..." he was cut off again.
"I already bought pizza, Wilson, just bring yourself."
"Uh, okay."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Curiosity got the best of him. He paused at the sight of his ratty McGill sweatshirt, before rifling through his closet to find a black sweatshirt with the letters PPTH emblazoned across them. Out of courtesy more than anything else, he grabbed the casserole that was supposed to be for dinner, and headed to his car.
When you pass the 2000 mark, he discovered, Tamarron drive was lined with cozy looking townhouses. It was also a fair bit out of the way. It was a whole fifteen minutes from where he lived, but not more than ten from House's. Close to the hospital, but in the other direction. Driving to Plainsboro was always an adventure, he mused, as he narrowly passed an accident on the corner of Plainsboro and Hunter's Glen and took the long way to Tamarron. Wilson pulled up into the nearest available parking space, and crossed the lot towards the un-curtained, first floor apartment of House's... friend.
He could see them already, talking and laughing. House had been propped against the wall with the help of a giant, firm-looking purple cushion just outside the kitchen, Cameron was sitting cross-legged on the island, and the mystery woman was standing barefoot on the counter top, reaching above the highest cabinet. He entered the archway and went to the recently-polished cherry door and used the brass knocker. Twice.
"Allison, could you..."
"Sure," Cameron's voice floated to his ears as the door opened with a whoosh. She looked different, he realized, in jeans and a long-sleeved teal t-shirt, hair down and eyes smiling. She didn't look exhausted, for once. He smiled when she pecked him on the cheek and relieved him of his burden.
"Come in, come in," she gestured, and he saw House acknowledge his presence, as was his habit, with a raise of his eyebrows that would be imperceptible to anyone else. Sai, as House had referred to her, hopped down from the counter top and wiped her hands on jeans that looked like they were once blue. She walked toward him, extending her hand.
"Really unnecessary. If that was just Cameron, and this is just Wilson," House said, and Wilson raised his eyebrows at him.
"Thanks?" The almost-question was answered by a "Anytime, Jimmy."
"What is it with you and last names?" She turned and smiled at him as he decided to take initiative.
"James Wilson," he said, ignoring the addition of "... Boy Wonder Oncologist!" by his obviously merry friend.
"Sairah Khan. Pleasure, Dr. Wilson," she said, giving his hand a firm shake and smiling at his widened eyes. "I know, I shake like a bloke. Please, come in, have a seat..." she looked around. "... wherever. Greg's cushion should have a twin somewhere."
He watched as she circled the living room, and then the dining room, peering in all the boxes until she found what she was looking for in a box stashed in the loft. She brought a dark brown cushion the same size and firmness and offered to him, which he took, and settled down at a distance.
Wilson blinked at Cameron as she tried to draw him into the conversation.
"Wilson is a fantastic cook, Sairah. House cons him into cooking whenever he can." He noticed Sairah's head slowly rotating to face House as her eyebrows threatened to slide into her hair, and then House giving her a look that silenced her silent question.
"Thank you very much, Dr. Wilson, for coming, and for the casserole," she seemed to parrot.
Wilson merely inclined his head at her. "No trouble at all," he replied flatly, watching as Cameron's eyebrows began ascent as the temperature of the room suddenly lowered.
The young woman only squirmed, as she dug linens out of a box, and started to blow up an Aerobed.
Cameron suddenly spoke again. "You're going to need to make a trip to the grocery store, Sai, no milk, no coffee," she smiled at the theatrical gasp emitted by the young woman. Sai? Wilson's eyebrows knotted together. Since when is Cameron buddy-buddy with her? And just what is Cameron doing here anyway? How come House is "helping"? One day, this random woman drops from the sky, and suddenly, Sai this, Sai that, Sai lets-all-build-a-campfire?
His thoughts were cut off by the reply. "I should really do it now, before I'm too tired from unpacking."
"You want me to go with you?" Cameron asked.
"Why not?" Sairah smiled at her.
He found himself nodding at them as they slipped on their bags and coats. "Be back, PG!" was heard through the door as Wilson decided to seize the oppurtunity.
Battle stance, check.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"PG?" He was incredulous, and just this side of livid. He sounded it, too.
"Nickname." Wilson snorted ungraciously.
"For what? Pompous Guy? Pseudo-Genius.... pig without the I?" It was all Wilson could come up with at the moment. Pig without the I. God.
"Nice."
"Then what does it mean?" Wilson saw as a myriad of emotions crossed House's face as he hesitated. Did he just look remorseful? The brief unfocusing of brilliant blue eyes just served to increase his ire.
"It's... something she used to call me when she was little." Frustration now won the wrestling contest with anger, as he sprung from his seat, and gripped the back of his neck, face rapidly turning pink.
"See!?! Who the is this girl, House? What is she doing here? She comes traipsing into your office, there's an incredibly mushy reunion episode, then all of a sudden, you're in a good mood, there's hugging, and kissing, and reflective conversations on the balcony.... and.. and.. what the fuck is Cameron doing here?"
"She was the love child of my best friend and I took her in. I tried to say no but they made me Godfather anyway. What can I say." House's attempt at deflection elicited another snort. Yeah right. Like any sane person would trust his child with Gregory House.
"Don't deflect. I deserve an explanation, and God knows I'm still being extremely patient about it, and unlike you, I've resisted snooping so far, but goddammit, as your best friend, don't you think I deserve something?" Damn right. He did deserve something. After all that he did for House, after all that he suffered through, of all the he was.. deprived of.. he deserved an explanation when the man famously allergic to non-sexual physical contact was suddenly hugging people. Person.
"No, Wilson. She is a part of my past... God, it feels like a lifetime ago. Before I met you, so I don't owe you an explanation. And Cameron is here, because at short notice, she's the only one I could think of that could be her friend. I'm too nice to drop her into the death trap that is Cuddy, and Foreman's a robot, and Thirteen's... a robot too, and besides she has too much baggage, and Taub, let's not even start, and Chase is still licking his wounds. Cameron was the only choice. And oh, look, I was right."
"That's not.. wait, you're concerned for her welfare? Are you trying to find good influences? My God... and this brings me back to my original question. Who is she and just what is she doing here?" His eyes widened as House's head whipped around to face him. "
"You know what's interesting?" Wilson bit back a groan. What? What, House? What's interesting? Besides your obvious evasion? Besides the obvious complexity of this situation?
House continued, ignoring Wilson's eye-roll to the heavens.
"It's interesting that Cameron's presence is bugging you more than Sai's reappearance. In comparison to Cameron being here, you couldn't care less about Sairah. You're just pissed I didn't tell you first, and that I didn't introduce her to you first, that you're as blindsided as anybody when you are beleived to know everything. You're furious that Cameron met her before you."
Wilson's jaw remained dropped as the front door creaked open, signaling the arrival of the women in question.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Let me take out all my pent-up wrath on the coward who left the anonymous review.. Mary Sue, my ass. If you have something constructive to say, say it, don't work out your anger issues in my reviews! Criticism is more than welcome, but, for God's sake, there is really no need to be a bitch about it. Additionally, I'd like to thank you for the implication that the various people that inspired Sairah are perfect. They'll appreciate it.