Yeah, so I've been extremely busy cranking out a House MD fan fiction.
So here you go! 14 chapters. =)
This is a House/Wilson, House/Cuddy, and Cuddy/Wilson story, hence the love triangle.
Rated R, and I don't own any characters or anything.
Enjoyyy!

It would be better if you guy read it here on Mibba,
Because this page is pretty long. Lmfao

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Chapter 01 - Deja Vu
House's POV


You think you know how disgusting public restrooms are, but it's not until you're on your hands and knees, puking up your pancreas when you really notice all of the grime and filth. I noticed some loser wrote, 'Jim was here' next to the faulty stall door, and a used condom was laying next to the toilet as I stumbled drunkenly outside, and tripped over myself before sitting back down in front of the bar.

"I think you had one too many drinks," the bartender said, studying my glassy gaze.

I snorted, but didn't respond.

"You should call a cab, sir," he suggested.

"You can't stop me from slamming back some booze; I'm a paying customer," I slurred, tossing a Lincoln on the counter.

He just rolled his eyes, but gave me two bottles of Miller Light, and said something about how the bar was open 24/7, but might change that because of creeps like me. I ignored him, and pulled out my cell phone from my pocket. I held in 1, and it automatically dialed his number. I sighed, hiccuped, and waited.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Wilson, I need you to come get me," I said.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I answered, chocking back vomit.

"Where are you?" he questioned.

"Sharrie's," I answered, naming the bar.

"Whoa, I think I just got deja vu," he said.

"C'mon, Wilson, seriously."

"No, you, c'mon seriously," he argued.

"I'm too drunk to drive," I pointed out.

"Yet sober enough to make that realization," he countered.

"I can't get home anyway else," I whined.

"Take a bus, maybe there'll be another crash."

I blinked hard. "Is this about Amber?"

Wilson sighed. "Goodnight, House."

"Wait, wait, wait," I said. "I thought we both got over this."

"Yeah, I got over you stealing my girlfriend and killing her in the process," he said with utter sarcasm.

"I wasn't driving the damn bus," I spat.

Wilson had nothing to say, and angrily hung up on me. I restrained myself from throwing my phone across the room, and decided to catch a cab after one or two more drinks.

I slammed back four or five more before clumsily wobbling with my cane, and limping out of the bar. It was the middle of May, but it was a little chilly outside at 5 in the morning. I stood there waiting for the sight of a cab when I saw Wilson's car approach instead. He stopped in front of me, and I stumbled into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind me.

"Thank you," I said without emotion.

Wilson simply nodded and stopped at a red light. We remained silent for a minute until he spoke.

"I know what you must have been thinking," he started. "I've had three wives, three divorces. A handful of messier dates and messier break ups. Too many girlfriends too count, right?"

I remained silent, but listened intently.

"But Amber was different. She wouldn't of been Mrs. Ex Wilson the 4th, you know?"

I nodded and glanced over at him quickly to see tears free falling from his eyes.

"I never thought that, Wilson," I said.

"Then why did you do it?" he snapped.

I swallowed hard, and muttered, "I don't know."

The light turned green, and he slammed down hard on the pedal, but let up quickly.

"You pick everyone apart, Wilson," I said. "That's your personality. You break people down, and then build them right back up. You analyze everyone, but have you ever analyzed yourself?"

Wilson just blinked, and shook his head fast.

"You're a people pleaser. A close-minded, opinionated hopeless romantic people pleaser. Now, I do believe Amber was different, but, it's just, I-"

"What, House?"

"Nothing," I ended as we reached my apartment.

I looked over at him and smiled slightly. "Sorry for being an ass."

Wilson sighed. "It's your nature."

We both smirked a little. "You know," I started, then paused, and mumbled, "You;ll always be my best friend."

Wilson smiled and nodded. "And no matter how much I hate you, I'll always have this dysfunctional thing we call a friendship."

I snorted and looked out the car window. "You're the only person that can stand me."

"I deserve an award," he said.

"You can stop the Greg House bashing."

Wilson finally cracked a chuckle, and apologized. I wanted to hug him, but said 'goodbye' and stepped out of the car and into my condo instead. I knew he was still there, watching to see if I got in okay. I heard him drive away once I closed the door behind me.

I sighed as I placed my cane by the stairs. I collapsed on the couch with a fractured heart and a headache, awaiting the deja vu of going to work with a tremendous hangover.

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Eh?
I'm typing more now. =)

Chapter 2 - Nobody is Okay
Wilson's pov

I awoke with the sunlight pouring into my eyes because I had forgotten to shut the blinds and curtains last night. I yawned and sat up. I looked over and sighed at the empty left side of the bed, wishing that I could wake up to her sleeping next to me one last time.

My alarm clock went off, and I quickly slapped it off. I rolled out of bed and showered with my eyes half open. I got dressed, and sat on my bed, still not fully awake. I finally left my apartment and made my way to the hospital.

Upon entering the hospital doors, I was welcomed by House who must of been waiting for me. He handed me a blue folder.

"New case for you," he said. "You should pick up your phone once and a while," he added.

"You should have paged me," I said while we walked towards the elevator. "What's the case about?"

"I gave you the folder so I wouldn't have to talk about it," he said.

I sighed but opened the folder while House pressed floor 5 on the elevator. "Unexplained weakness, irritability, heat intolerance, and increased sweating," I read. "I'm an oncologist, House," I reminded.

"I know," he said. "It could be cancer."

"The blood tests and MRI beg to differ," I said, pointing to the negtive cancer test results on the paper.

"Ever heard of a false negative?" House inquired.

I looked at him. "Why do you want it to be cancer? So I can work on a case with you?"

"Yep," he answered. "And so I can pick you apart more often."

"What about autoimmune, like Graves' disease?" I offered, veering back to the patient.

House shrugged. "Could be. I'll let you know if we catch him with insomnia and weight loss," he said as he stepped out of the elevator. "Hasta luego," he added.

I nodded a recognition to him as I pressed the elevator button to the oncology floor. I reached my office and tossed the folder on my desk. I made my way to room 202 where one of my cancer patients was. I opened the door to find him laying on a gurney, awaiting more radiation. I sat down beside him and decided to small talk with him, hopefully relieving some tension.

"Good morning Mr. Leinman," I welcomed. "How are you today?"

He painfully shrugged slightly, and winced.

"Do you want the blinds open, sir?"

The man shook his head.

"Is there anything you want me to do for you?" I asked.

He looked at me with a pair of frightened orbs. "Cure me," he whispered.

I bit my lip and tried to seem reassuring. "I'm afraid there is no cure for cancer. We are doing all we can." I said.

The man looked away and nodded, tears filling his green eyes. My heart felt like it bent for his agony as I poured him a glass of water. He drank it without hesitation, and asked for another.

"There isn't a cure for anything," he started as I handed him another cup of water. "When you catch a cold, sure, you get cured and continue life like nothing happened. When you break a bone, and the scar heals, every thing's peachy a month or two later. But..when you get this bugger called cancer," he said, and paused, his lip trembling and eyes watering. "When you get this bugger called cancer, and you go through chemo and radiation..let's say you survive. You defeated the monster, broke the beast. Are you cured?"

I stared at him with intent, yet scared eyes. Here was this 60 year old man pouring his heart out to a doctor like he was on his death bed. He just took a breath and continued.

"What? The cancer's out of your system, you're perfectly healthy? Are you supposed to move on like you do after you catch a cold or break your arm? Are you supposed to look in the mirror and just imagine you have hair and are 50 pounds heavier?" he asked rhetorically, and sighed. "You can be cured, but you'll never be okay."

I looked into his eyes, and took his hand in mine. "Nobody is okay," I told him.

His lip quivered and he nodded, placing both of his hands on top of mine, and shaking them with gratitude. "Thank you, doctor," he said.

I bit my lip and shook his hand back as the nurses came in to take him to radiation.

"I wish you the best of luck, sir," I told him, and he nodded to me while being taken out of the room. I sighed and stood in the empty and cold room. I stared at the closed blinds, and wished there was a cure for my heart, which still seemed to be on life support.

Chapter 3 - Sincerity
Cuddy's POV

The yellow paint was still on the walls, but was starting to chip. The lavender curtains were still sitting in a boz next to the door, unpacked and unused. I lost count of how many times I have walked into this room and cried like there was no tomorrow. It's been three months, but it hasn't gotten any easier.

I sighed and closed the door behind me, wiping tears from my eyes. I walked into the bathroom where I had to re-apply my eyeliner. While doing so, I heard a knock come from my bathroom window. I opened the shower curtain and the window curtain to see that it was House. I sighed, but opened the window.

"Hey," he said as he stuck his neck in.

"Hey," I replied.

"Why were you crying?" he questioned.

I snorted, trying to act like I didn't know what he was talking about. "Why do you think I was?"

House pointed to the eyeliner in my hand. "You always put your eyeliner on first, and then your eyeshadow and all that other goop on your face. I can tell because it's always smeared before your lipstick looses colors or your eyeshadow wears away. You have everything else on your face, except your eyeliner which means you had it on, but," he analyzed, paused, and said, "But went into Joy's room, cried, and had to re-apply it."

I bit my lips and reached over and shut the window on him. "I'm coming in!" I heard him yell. I yelled, 'okay,' to him, because I knew if I didn't let him in, he would just wait outside until I went out. I stared at myself in the mirror, noticing my bloodshot eyes and pale skin. I placed my hand on my hair and crinkled it. I think smoothed it out and sighed. I walked out of the bathroom to House knocking on my front door. He walked in, and we sat down on the couch.

"Does the man have Graves' disease?" I asked.

House nodded. "Started treatment this morning."

I nodded and we sat in silence for what seemed like forever until I asked, "Hows Wilson?"

He shrugged. "I think he's still mad at me over Amber."

I nodded. "He deserves to be."

House glared at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I looked at him. "His girlfriend liked you, and you were head over heels for her. That's enough to allow him to be pissed off. Then she's killed in a bus accident that she was with you in. I'm sorry, House, but-"

"I wasn't driving the damn bus! It's not my fucking fault! I'll take the blame for loving her, but I should be getting this shit about killing her."

"House, it's okay-"

"No, it's not!" he countered. "Wilson things the exact same way, and I can't lose Wilson."

I looked in his crystal blue eyes and read his sincerity. I wrapped my arms around him, and embraced the hell out of him. I let go, and said, "You won't lose him. You're his best friend. Just give him time - a lot of time. He'll eventually come around."

House nodded, and said something about how he had to get back to the hospital because his lunch break was almost over. I walked him out and wished him luck on his case.

I shut the door behind me and walked back to the bathroom. I looked across the hall at the room was supposed to be for Joy, the daughter I was supposed to adopt, but the mother decided she wanted her after giving birth. I closed the door and walked back into the bathroom, wiping a stray tear.

I went into my bedroom, attempting to enjoy my day off. I layed on my bed and turned the TV on to Oprah. There was a woman he had given birth to nine children, and eight of them passed away a few minutes after birth. She was explaining how she felt about losing her children, and how her only daughter, properly named Hope, has Leukemia. I began sobbing, feeling only a pinch of anguish she must be going through.

Without thinking, I quickly wrote down the name of the woman, Madeline Carson, on a sheet of paper. She said she resides in Manhattan, so I jumped off my bed and pulled on the New York phone book I have. I flipped through the pages, giving myself a papercut before finding her name and jotting her number down.

I placed the phone book back on the shelf, and continued to sit on the floor. I sighed shakily, and looked back at the TV. I didn't know a thing about this woman, but I was going to help her. I was going to channel the misery I was going through to do good for someone else. LIke House, I had sincerity in my eyes.

Chapter 4 - Ten Days
House's POV

"Abdominal pain, internal bleeding, vomiting blood, confusion, paranoia, hallucinations, muscle weakness," Thirteen said, and looked at me. "The list just goes on and on."

"Drugs?" I asked.

Foreman shook his head. "Tox screen was clean."

I sighed and tapped my cane against the white board. "Lupus would explain the muscle weakness, and narcotics would explain everything else."

"Foreman just said she was clean," Kutner said, looking around, wondering if he missed something.

I blinked and looked outside the office window to see Wilson standing, talking to one of the nurses. I turned to Foreman. "Ever heard of a false negative?"

Foreman shrugged and left to do the test again. I looked back out the window to see the nurse hand Wilson a piece of paper and give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Taub and Thirteen, look in the house for toxins. Kutner, brain storm some more and one of you go see what Cameron and Chase think," I ordered as I limped out of the office, and grabbed onto Wilson's shoulder.

"Boo!" I exclaimed.

He looked at me weird and raised his arms slowly. "Aaah?" he asked.

I smiled and we started walking towards the elevator. "What are you doing on this floor?" I questioned.

"I just dropped by to pick up medicine for a patient," he fibbed.

I nodded. "Ah. So where are the pills?"

Wilson pursed his lips. "Huh," he said, laughing. "It's the damnedest thing, I guess I forgot!"

We both stopped, and I grabbed onto his shoulder, stopping him from leaving.

"Who was the hot piece of ass you were just talking to?"

"The nurse?" he asked innocently.

I nodded and he replied with, "A friend."

"What paper did she give you?"

Wilson made a face. "Are you spying on me, House?"

I rolled my eyes. "I a cripple, but I still have eyesight."

He also rolled his eyes. "I'm guessing you saw her kiss my cheek too."

I gasped and acted surprised. "No!"

Wilson sighed and we started walking towards the elevator. "She's a friend. I've seen her around a lot, and then her brother developed brain cancer and became my patient. She came with him every visit, and she just asked me out for dinner or something. The paper has her number on it."

"So, while talking about brain tumors, she managed to squeeze a dinner invitation in there?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

I nodded and started to walk away. "Why do you do that?" he yelled to me, but I didn't answer him. I walked back to my office to find Kutner looking over the patients health information.

"Figure anything out?" I questioned.

"You were gone for, like, 2 seconds," he defended.

"So I guess that's a no?" I stated.

He nodded, and watched me write the symptoms on the white board. "Internal bleeding, unexplained weakness, and a bunch of behavioral problems," I said, reading them over. I sighed and began to think as Foreman walked in.

"It's not drugs," he said.

"Run it again,' I commanded.

"I did, 3 times. There all negative, she's so clean, I doubt that she's ever been near a bong."

"Wait," I said. "Was she bleeding out anywhere? Like, a cut that wouldn't stop bleeding?"

Kutner shrugged. "She's on her menstrual cycle, that's all."

"Is she bleeding extremley heavy?"

Foreman and Kutner just looked at each other.

"It's important!" I shouted.

"Well, she did say, when I was in there, that she apologized for bleeding on the sheets, that she hasn't been that heavy in a while," Foreman informed.

"I'll do the cut test," I said.

"Why?" Kutner questioned, but I had already left for the patients room. I entered the room and introduced myself. "You're Chelsea Dye, right?" I asked as I walked towards her.

She nodded, her face beat red. I just stared at her and asked, "Are you hot?"

"Yeah, extremley," she said.

I touched her face, and it was burning. I took out a knife from a drawer and quickly put a small cut in her arm.

"Hey, what was that for?" he yelled.

"Oh, shut up," I ordered. "It's called the cut test. We time how long you bleed to see if you have a clotting problem," I informed. "Have you ever been to any foreign continents, like Africa?"

She nodded. "I went to Zaire a few weeks ago for charity work. I helped families in poverty conditions and people with HIV and AIDS."

I nodded, and a few minutes went by and she was still bleeding. I sighed, and tossed the contaminated knife blade in the trash and asked, "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"Good news," she picked.

"I know what's wrong with you," I told her.

She smiled, but her smiled soon changed to a worried frown. "What is it? Am I gonna be okay?"

I sighed. "You have the Ebola virus. You have about ten days to live."

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Yes, Chelsea, you now have Ebola. Prepare to bleed!
More soon. =)

Chapter 5 - Amber
Wilson's POV

She had all these weird obsessions, these strange quarks. Like, she had this comb that had unicorns and butterflies on it, and she used it all the time. She got it when she was really young and kept it when she got older. Her mother gave it to her, and died when she was 13, so it meant a lot to her.

And, now, as I'm sitting her touching the unicorn and butterfly comb, I put my fingers on a strand of hair that was caught in it. I sighed and placed the comb next to one of her many ballet jewelry boxes, and wiped a tear from my eye. I know it isn't healthy to have all of her things surrounding me, but I couldn't seem to summon the strength to throw them out. Throwing these precious things out would be like throwing away my memory of her, and I couldn't bring myself to do that.

I finally came to the decision that I would throw one thing of her's away each day, so I would slowly but surely forget about her and be able to move on with my life. I chose to start with the things on her dresser, like the half a dozen jewelry boxes she had. I sighed as I randomly picked one up and carried it to the trashcan. I noticed it was pretty heavy, so I opened it to see what was inside. Of course - jewelry. Tons of jewelry. I decided I would keep one of something so I could have a piece of her with me.

I picked a beautiful rub colored necklace she wore on our first date. Tears rolled down my face as I placed it on my kitchen counter, and tossed the jewelry box into the trash. I noticed a small notepad fall among the rings, bracelets, and earrings, and I curiously picked it up. I smiled at the fact that it was a Hello Kitty notepad, and began flipping through it. I came across phone numbers, lots of phone numbers. It was 4 pages full, but all that was in it was numbers.

I sighed, and placed the notepad next to the ruby necklace. Amber passed away 5 months ago, but I doubt too many of her old friends know, and that's who I assumed those numbers belonged to. I rubbed my forehead and looked at my watched. I groaned at the fact that I was running late for work, and quickly slipped my shoes on. I grabbed my lab coat and headed for the hospital.

I opened the doors and was once again greeted by House. "She has Ebola," he welcomed.

"Hello to you too," I started as we headed towards the elevator. We were standing in silence, but I felt like I was being watched. I looked over and House was staring at me.

"You're hiding something."

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but he cut me off. "What would you hide from your best friend?" he asked him self out loud. "Well, it has to be something new since I just noticed it." He studied me and I looked at him. "Something about Amber."

I rolled my eyes. "What makes you so sure?"

He shrugged. "I'm always right."

I smirked. "How suddle."

He smiled and rocked back and forth on his feet while the elevator halted on the oncology floor. I figured he wouldn't leave me alone, would just keep on trying to pry it out of me, and that's exactly what he did.

"She must have left something behind, or someone told you something about her," he tried as we walked into my office.

I sighed and sat down in my chair. "I'll just tell you because you'll eventually figure it out."

He smiled proudly, and I rolled my eyes again. "It's not that important, House. You shouldn't be so excited."

He shrugged, and I continued. "I was looking through some of her old things,and I found a notebook. It just had a bunch of phone numbers in it - that's all!"

House nodded. "But you seem worried."

I groaned, becoming frustrated. "I'm not worried; why would I be worried?" I yelled.

"You aren't stupid, Wilson," he started. "Annoying, but not stupid."

"Get to it," I ordered.

"Those numbers being of ex boyfriends, one night stands, ex husbands for all you know. It had to of crossed your mind."

"What?" I said. I laughed, upset. "You can't be serious, you can't be."

"Oh, I'm very cereal."

"Amber wasn't like that," I reminded.

He just nodded. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Did you ever think I was just tired?" I snapped. He shook his head and eventually left my office. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I glanced at a framed picture of Amber and me that sat on my desk. I bit my lips, and whispered, "damn," knowing that House was making me doubt her and her hopefully fictional choices.

Chapter 6 - Hear Me Out
Cuddy's POV

While signing papers and looking over cases in my office, I heard my door suddenly open. I looked up, expecting House, but it was Wilson instead. I smiled at him and asked him how he was.

"Fine, you?" he asked, a breath of fresh, polite, and sensitive air.

I shrugged, and continued smiling at him.

"I heard a little rumor about you wanting to treat a woman off of Oprah," he brought up. "But that doesn't sound like the Cuddy I know. It sounds more like the bigot doctor that told me."

I rolled me eyes as Wilson sat down in front of me. "How does House know?"

Wilson simply shrugged. "I swear he's tracing your phone calls."

I smirked and rubbed my forehead. "There was a woman who lost some children at birth. I wanted to take her in, but it was a stupid, foolish thing to think."

Wilson shook his head. "Not really."

I burrowed my eyebrows. "You just said it didn't sound like me."

"That doesn't mean it's the wrong thing to do," he said. "It would be therapeutic for you, and life altering for the mom."

I nodded and thanked him. He was about to walk out, but I stopped him. "I just got paged a few minutes ago that your patient, Hunter Leinman, passed away."

He just sighed, thanked me for telling him, and walked out. I then sighed. Wilson develops relationships with just about anyone, including patients. It can be a bad thing because he's an oncologist, and is treating people who are dying. That's just how he is, though.

I was about to continue working, but I couldn't stop thinking about Madeline Carson. I groaned at myself as I looked off the notepad and dialed her number in the phone. It began ringing and my heart started racing. 'What the hell am I doing?' I asked myself. I sighed as I thought that this was something House would do.

"Hello?" a woman's voice asked.

"Um, is this Madeline Carson?" I questioned.

"Yes, who's this?"

I tensed up and cleared my though. "Hi, this is Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine and chief administrator at Princeton hospital in New Jersey," I answered and sighed. "I was wondering if you wanted a check up."

"I live in New York, how did you get my number?" she rightly questioned.

"Well, I, I have an NY phone book," I stupidly replied.

"So, you just picked a random out-of-state person to ask if they want a check up?"

"No, well, I w-watched you on Oprah, and I think I can help you."

The woman was stunned. "Oh my God, that's so wrong! Just leave me alone!"

"Wait, wait, wait," I tried. "Ms., please, hear me out. Please, it's nothing, just a few tests can tell us what's wrong with you. W-we can give your treatments, maybe a cure!"

"I've already been to dozens of doctors, no one can figure it out," she said.

"We have one of the best doctors in the country here!" I fought. "Please, Ms Carson, please," I practically begged.

The woman sighed shakily, hinting that she was sobbing. She was quiet for a few seconds, contemplating, before saying, "One day of testing, that's it."

I grinned. "Thank you so much, Madeline," I said. I told her we could get her in on Wednesday, and she said she would come in first thing in the morning.

After ending the conversation, I looked up to see House standing by my door, staring at me and twirling his cane.

I sighed. "How long have you been standing there?"

He shrugged as he sat down in front of me. "Long enough to see you are officially depressed," he said as he popped a piece of candy in his mouth.

I threw my hands in the air. "Yeah, helping sick people really proves your point."

He shook his head. "No, helping sick people because you can't help yourself - that's depression."

"I'm not depressed," I spat.

"Okay, so losing your daughter doesn't depress you. That's inhumane."

"I'm not depressed, i'm upset."

"Ah," he said as he started limping out of the room.

"Why do you do that?" I yelled to him, getting frustrated on how he always walks away without properly ending a conversation. I wasn't expecting an answer, and didn't receive one. I just sighed, and braced myself for Wednesday.

Chapter 7 - One Night Stand
House's POV

I peeked into Wilson's bedroom window, gladly finding no one. I knew he was at work, but I still felt like he would be there, jumping out of a shadow or something, I don't know. All I know is that I have to do this, I need an answer.

I looked around as I picked his lock, and successfully achieved access into his apartment. I closed the door behind me and began my search.

I figured it would be placed some where out in the open since Wilson was just looking through it, so I searched the bedroom first and came up with nothing. I hunted through the bathroom, living room, and dining room before finding it setting on the kitchen counter. I smirked at the fact that it was a Hello Kitty notepad, and began flipping through it. I found phone numbers. It had 4 pages full, with names beside each one. I bit my lip when I noticed that the majority of them were men, and became curious at the fact that some were crossed out and some had astrics beside them.

I sighed as I sat down on Wilson's bed and dialed the first number - it was her former plumber. The second was a high school friend, and the next couple were just girls. I was pretty sure Amber didn't go both ways, so I disregarded them. I flipped to the forth page and found Wilson's old number. It was third to last, meaning he was third to the last recent. The two names after him were those of men: Deryck and Lewis. They both had NJ area codes, which lead to more curiosity. I sighed and dialed the first one, awaiting a response.

"Hello?" a voice asked.

"Is this Deryck?" I asked.

"Si, senor," the man answered in Spanish.

"Do you know a woman by the name of Amber?" I questioned.

"Aye yiyi, you're gonna have to be more specific, my friend. I know a lot of chickas, it's easy to forget a few," he said, laughing it up.

"Blonde hair, green eyes? Tall and thin? Uh, she's got a birth mark on her right shoulder blade."

The man was silent, and sighed. "Si, I knew her. I remember seeing she died a few months ago, lo siento."

"How did you know her? Were you two intimate?"

"Si," he answered.

My heart dropped. "Really? When?"

"About a month or two before she passed. Such a shame."

My mouth was practically hanging open. I wanted an answer, but I was hoping for a slightly different one.

"Were you guys, like, together, like dating?" I inquired.

"No, no, we were only together for one night," he answered.

"A one night stand?"

"Si, si," he said. "You see, I have this brilliant charm, a real aroma. Women can't deny me."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," I said and hung up. I shook my head in disbelief. Like Wilson said, I didn't think Amber was like that. It just knocked me off my feet.

Sure enough, the other guy, Lewis, admitted to sleeping with her for one night too. I was stunned.

I checked my watch and exclaimed, "Oh, shit," when I realized Wilson would be coming home any minute. I grabbed my cane and started limping for the front door, but was met by Wilson, who must of just walked in.

"House!" he said, and sighed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I looked him in the eye, and I guess he could tell something wasn't right because he asked me, "What's wrong?"

I sighed and shook my head. I flung the notepad at him and he barely caught it. "Look on the forth page, Wilson," I ordered.

"Yeah, so? What am I lookin' at?"

"See your old home number?" I asked, and he nodded. "Look at the two below, Deryck and Lewis."

He did, nodded, and looked at me. "So what?"

I sighed and slowly walked toward him. "Lewis is a gentleman, but Deryck is a character; a real piece of work," I informed.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "You called them?"

I nodded. "Wilson," I said, then paused.

"What?" he asked, seeming more interested.

"They both admitted to sleeping with Amber 6 months ago," I chocked out.

Wilson chuckled. "Why are you screwing with me?"

I quickly and firmly grabbed on to his arm and squeezed. I looked him square in the eye and said, "They slept with Amber; they confessed to one night stands. I am not screwing with you, Wilson," I said, and released my grip.

Wilson just glared at me. "If this is some sick, cruel joke, I swear to God I'll-"

"This isn't a goddamn joke, Wilson!" I shouted. "Amber cheated on you with these two men!"

He looked me in the eye and simply said, "That's just not Amber."

"Goes to show how well you knew her!" I spat angrily as I made my way to the door. I cursed to myself while walking out of his apartment, not angry with Wilson or myself, but disappointed and infuriated with Amber and her stupid, stupid decisions.

Chapter 8 - Everybody Lies
Wilson's POV

Without much thought, I ran outside my apartment and grabbed onto House's arm before he stepped out of the building. I whirled him around and asked him, "Why do you feel it was your responsibility to figure out?"

He threw his hands in the air. "I was curious!"

"No, you needed your goddamn answer, just like when you're with a patient!"

"So what?" he asked. "Just because I found out doesn't change the decisions a dead woman made!"

"Don't talk about her like that," I quipped.

"What do you want me to do?" he shouted. "Say every thing's gonna be all right, that you shouldn't be upset? What the hell do you want from me?"

"Why don't you get a time machine, House!"

"What?" he questioned angrily.

"Yeah, get me a big 'ol time machine. That way I can go back to the part where you didn't call Amber and she didn't get on that fucking bus with you!"

"Why don't you go back to the time that we met too, huh?" he asked, his voice shaky. "Just fix that too, erase it!"

I grew silent, and so did he. I bit my lip, and looked at him. "Why didn't she tell me?" I whispered quickly.

House sighed and rubbed his forehead."It's not an easy thing to bring up."

"Yeah, but this is Amber," I said.

"Everybody lies," he reminded.

I sighed and clenched my fists. "But why?"

House shook his head and said slowly, "I don't know." We stood together in silence, unsure of what to say, until House mumbled, "I'm sorry."

I nodded and apologized too. "I overreacted."

He shook his head. "You reacted completely normal. I'm the one who went out of his way just to get a damn answer."

I sighed. "What's wrong with us? What did we ever do wrong?"

"Well, I have a handful of mistake under my belt," House admitted. "As for you, nothing. You deserve none of this."

I shook my head. "Yes, I do. In some weird way, I just know I do."

He looked at me and I smiled wryly at him. He told me would see me tomorrow, and he left, just like that. I breathed heavily as I walked back into my apartment and closed the door. I decided the notepad would be the next thing of Amber's that I would throw away.

Feeling dizzy, I maneuvered into my bedroom and collapsed into my bed. I figured the dizzy sensation would pass, but it didn't; it became worse. I sat up, and moaned at the feeling. I felt a distinct pain in my head, and placed my hand on my forehead, realizing I was burning up.

I reached for my cell phone, planning to call for an ambulance. My finger graced it, but slipped off when I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head, and I fell to the floor.

______
A bit shorter, but more to come. =)

Chapter 9 - Hope
Cuddy's POV

I was never nervous meeting a patient, but I was practically hyperventilating on Wednesday morning. Madeline Carson, and her young daughter, Hope, were to be arriving at the hospital any minute, and I was sitting in my office, neurotically tapping a pencil. I took a deep breath, and consoled myself quietly as I saw a women and a small girl walking towards my office.

Assuming it was them, I walked to my door and opened it for them. Ms. Carson gave me a wry smile, and Hope barely acknowledged my presence. I shut the door, and sat down. I shook Madeline's hand and re-introduced myself, as she did also.

"I just contacted an oncologist and the best doctor in the hospital," I informed. "They will be taking care of you and doing all of the doctor-y things," I said, smiling reassuringly at Hope. Madeline nodded, and it fell silent. I bit my lip and tried wishing away the awkwardness, but failed. I blinked hard, and when I opened my eyes, I spotted both Wilson and House walking toward my office.

"Here they come," I told them as I stood up and opened the door again.

"Ms. Carson, this is Dr. House. He will be treating you. This is Dr. Wilson, an oncologist. He'll be treating Hope," I informed.

Madeline nodded and put her hand out for House to shake, and he, of course, didn't. I rolled my eyes, but Wilson shook it so she wouldn't be too embarrassed. Madeline and Hope hugged before Wilson took Hope's hand and walked her to the oncology floor. House just started walking away, and Madeline reluctantly followed. I sighed and jogged toward her, and showed her to a hospital room. I told her we would begin tests once House talked to his team, and she nodded.

"I'll stay here, if you want," I offered. She simply nodded, and I sat down beside her. "I have the highest hopes that Dr. House will be able to help you," I tried comforting.

She just looked at me with sad eyes. "What about Hope?"

"Dr. Wilson is an excellent oncologist," I said.

She nodded, and looked away. "I had been taking fertilization pills because I couldn't get pregnant. I guess I overdid it, because I became pregnant with 9 children I was ecstatic, just glowing. My ex husband, who I was married to at the time, was overwhelmed, and I assume that's why he left me when he did. 9 months of being alone, and having 9 little treasures inside of me sorta equaled out. Then, when I gave birth, they all came out alive, but passed a few hours after, from all these different things. Hope was the only one that lived, but the doctors told me she would almost definetly have health complications," she said, wiping a tear. "And now she has cancer, and I can't do anything to help her."

"I'm so sorry," I told her.

She was sobbing as she chocked out, "She's been going to so many different doctors, having cat scans and MRIs, chemo and radiation. Getting goddamn needles jabbed in her, and spending days and nights in a cold hospital bed instead of her own," she said as House walked in.

"We're taking a blood test first," he told her as he got the needle ready. Madeline barely winced as the needle pierced her skin. He drew the blood and left without saying anything.

I sighed. "I believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe that the two of you are going through this ordeal because you will be stronger in the end."

Madeline nodded. "I try to believe in silly things like that," she said. "It helps me sleep at night."

I nodded and looked at the floor as she said, "What's your child's name?"

I looked at her weird. "Why would you think-"

She shrugged. "I just assumed that was why you wanted to help me. You knew what it was like to have a child, to be a mother."

I bit my lip. "Her name was Joy," I answered, and paused, attempting not to release tears.

"Was?" she asked curiosly.

"Was," I repeated.

Chapter 10 - Luck
House's POV

"What do we have so far?" I asked.

"Tox screen is clean, no drugs," Thirteen said.

"Foreman, do an MRI," I ordered. He nodded, and left.

I sighed. "What causes someone to have 8 miscarriages?" I questioned.

Taub shrugged. "Lot's of things."

I rolled my eyes. "I know, but name some."

"Bad luck," Chase said as he walked out of the office.

"She could just have an unhealthy uterus," Kutner said.

"Why?" I asked.

Kutner shrugged. "Did she deliver premature?"

"No," Taub answered. "She was right near her due date."

Thirteen threw her arms in the air. "She was probably just born with a bad uterus!"

"Then why did the girl survive?" I challenged.

"Good luck," Chase said as he walked back in the office.

"Why are you here?" I asked him.

"Forgot my jacket," he answered as he picked it up, and walked out.

I sighed. "Okay, wait until Foreman gets the MRI test results back," I said as I limped towards the door.

"You just want us to sit here and wait?" Kutner asked, surprised.

"It doesn't seem like anyone of you has a good idea," I snapped as I walked outside my office and almost ran into Wilson.

"The girl is pretty bad, pretty far along in her Leukemia. She's scheduled for radiation in an hour," he informed me. "What about the mom?"

I shrugged. "Foreman's doing an MRI. If nothing shows up, she just has a crappy uterus." Wilson just nodded and I made a face. "Normally, you would have disagreed with me and challenged me to think of a million other possible reason as to why her uterus sucks," I analyzed. I studied his face and said, "Your eyes are bloodshot, and you look like you haven't slept in a year."

Wilson sighed. "I know I look like crap, thanks."

"Your lips are chapped, and your pale," I pointed out. "You were up puking all night."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm a little sick."

"Puking up blood," I said as I pointed to a small blood stain on his shirt collar. He sighed, but didn't reply.

"You're back on anti-depressants, aren't you?"

Wilson clapped. "Congratulations, do you want an award?" he asked as we started walking towards the elevator.

"You're either taking too many, or using a scary combination," I continued.

Wilson stopped and sighed. "I just took too many - only once. I passed out yesterday, and puked blood afterwards. I'm taking a regular amount now, okay, Sherlock?"

"You're a doctor, you know the right dosage," I said, and I looked at him in the eye. "Suicide?"

He shook his head. "God no. I was just curious."

I nodded, and walked back to my office without saying anything to Wilson. I spotted Foreman along the way and asked what the MRI said.

He sighed. "Nothing. She just has bad luck, I guess."

I nodded, and took the MRI results paper from him and walked into Madeline's hospital room. Cuddy was sitting beside her as I handed her the paper.

"You're completely healthy," I told her. "You just have a naturally unhealthy uterus."

"Then how did Hope survive?" she asked.

I shrugged and raised my eyebrows. "Luck?"

She sighed, and Cuddy put her arm around her. She thanked me, hugged Cuddy, and walked out of the room, saying she wanted to go see her daughter.

Cuddy looked at me. "She has no disease? No nothing."

I shook my head. "No nothing," I repeated.

She sighed. "I guess it's just Hope now."

I nodded and began walking out, when Cuddy grabbed onto my shoulder. "I got word that I have to let someone go, I have to fire someone."

"Who told you that?" I asked, and she just continued to look at me.

"Volger?" I questioned, and she nodded.

"I don't know who, but I have until the end of tomorrow."

I sighed. "Don't fire me or Wilson."

Cuddy bit her lip and I asked her what was wrong. She sighed and looked at me. "I have to fire either you or Wilson, of I get fired," she said.

Chapter 11 - The Nurse
Wilson's POV

I walked into my apartment, and tossed my jacket on the couch. She smiled at me as I took her coat off and put it next to mine.

"This is it," I said as I shut the door.

She smiled and nodded. "I like it, very homely."

I smiled and asked her if she wanted anything to drink. She said yes and I went into the kitchen to get us some wine. As I opened the cupboard, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw House sitting at the table, playing with his yoyo.

"House, you really gotta stop doing this!" I exclaimed.

He shrugged. "You never pick up your phone," he defended.

I rolled me eyes. "You never do either, but I never break into your house."

He made a face. "I guess my actions differ from yours," he reasoned.

"What do you want?" I questioned as I poured two glasses of wine.

"Cuddy's firing one of us right now," he answered.

I almost spilled the wine bottle, and looked at Wilson with wide eyes. "Why?"

"Volger," he answered.

I threw my hands in the air. "He hates us, yeah, so what? We're good doctors, we save thousands of lives!" I argued.

House shrugged as he took the glass of wine I poured for her and drank it instead. "Lives don't matter, money does."

"Oh, yeah, health care is a business, the number of lives we save doesn't mean squat to him," I snapped as I drank my wine in one gulp. House poured me and him more wine and I sat down beside him.

"Cuddy has the choice to quit, which would save both our asses," House told me.

"She won't do that," I said.

House took a drink and looked at me. "Would you?"

I shrugged and took another sip of wine when House pointed in the living room and said, "That hot piece of ass looks familiar."

"Oh, shit," I said, remembering she was here. "That's Janet, the nurse I was talking to the other day," I told him as I grabbed another wine glass and poured her a drink. House nodded and took another sip of wine.

"Do you mind leaving?" I asked him.

He shook his head and stood up. "Not at all," he answered as he finished off his wine and put the glass in the sink. "You must really think you're getting laid tonight, eh?" he asked loudly, loud enough for Janet to hear.

I groaned at him probably ruining my date as he picked up his yoyo, and walked out of the door without saying a word to Janet. I sighed and walked towards her with a glass of wine, but she claimed she had to get up early tomorrow, the oldest excuse in the book. She opened the door to leave and House was standing to the side, playing with the damn yoyo.

She walked out and I rolled my eyes as House walked back in, taking one of the glasses out of my hands and sitting on my couch.

"House! I really liked her!"

"This is more important," he argued. "Besides, you would of regretted crawling into bed with her when you woke up tomorrow."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because! You're still not over Amber. You'd feel awful; I know you, Wilson."

I groaned, but was too tired to yell at him. I sat down beside him, and said, "So, i'm getting fired right now?"

"Either you or me. We ruled out Cuddy quitting."

"Like Cuddy would fire you," I said.

He shrugged. "She could."

I sighed. "How's the Ebola girl?"

"Dead."

"Oh, that's nice," I said.

"How's the cancer dude who thought there wasn't a cure for anything or something?"

"Dead," I answered.

House nodded as we both received a page at the same time. We read them, and just looked at each other. I sighed. "One of us just lost his job," I said as we left my apartment and headed to the hospital.

Chapter 12 - Fired
Cuddy's POV

My heart was racing as I sat next to Volger in my office, awaiting House and Wilson. I sighed when I saw them coming, knowing they were intoxicated. I just hoped Volger couldn't tell.

They walked in and sat down in front of us, partially glassy eyed, but not reeking of liquor. I decided to start by saying, "You both know why you are here. Mr. Volger has to let one of you go due to the excess doctors in the hospital. He has asked me to assist him make a decision, but, in the end, it comes down to what he decides," I said, trying to remain calm and professional on the outside, while I was screaming on the inside.

Volger nodded and looked at both House and Wilson. I sighed shakily at the unwanted suspense. Volger looked at me and asked, "Lisa, who do you pick to leave?"

I looked at both of them. I knew, professionally, House had to stay. He was one of the best doctors ever, the best in Jersey. In my heart, though, Wilson deserved to stay. He was a fine doctor and was sensitive and considerate towards his patients. House took chances that sometimes killed his patients, whereas Wilson sometimes seemed too careful. Inside, I knew I had to pick Wilson to leave.

"Wilson," I said.

He released the breath he had been holding in, and looked down. Volger asked House to leave the room, and he did. I sighed and muttered, 'i'm sorry' to Wilson. He nodded and gave me a smile, saying he understood.

"Dr. Wilson," Volger started. "Why are you an oncologist?"

Wilson seemed a little surprised by the question, but took very little time to respond.
I'm an oncologist because I'm fascinated by all types of cancer, and I feel like I saved or helped saved someone's life when I treat them," he stated well.

Volger nodded and asked him another question. "Why are you friends with House?"

"Is that really relevant?" I asked.

"It tells me about your character," Volger told him. He repeated the question, and Wilson just stared at the floor. He was silent for a while, unable to think of an answer.

"Dr. Wilson, you are friends with Dr. House, correct?"

"Yes," Wilson answered.

"But you don't know why?"

Wilson opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth, paused, and finally said, "I care about House. He is my best friend, but I just don't know why," he said. "You don't pick your family, you pick your friends, but I don't think I picked House to be my best friend. He just..is."

"Would you stick up for him? Defend him?"

Wilson nodded. "Yes, I would."

Volger sighed. "That's why you're fired," he said.

My jaw dropped slightly, and I looked at Volger. "Why?"

"Because he'll stick up for a jackass like House," he answered. "I'd rather have the jackass than a man that supports and protects him."

Wilson sighed, nodded. obviously in a drunken sadness. I watched him walk out, and followed him without saying a word to Volger. I closed to door behind me, grabbed Wilson's arm, spun him around, and wrapped my arms around him. I released my embrace, and looked him in the eye.

"You're such an idiot," I mumbled to him.

He smirked. "I told the truth. What was I supposed to do?"

"Lie, Wilson," I whispered, tears falling from my eyes.

He sighed and looked at me. "I didn't think I was gonna get fired over that," he said. "I mean, I knew you would choose me to go, but I thought olger would want House to go."

"Wilson, I wanted you to stay, but you know I had to pick you. I'm so, so sorry, but-"

"It's okay, Cuddy, I understand."

I smiled sadly at him, and hugged him again, sobbing like there was no tomorrow. Wilson released the hug and bit his lip. "What do I do now?"

I sighed. "Go home, have a drink with House. Go to bed, and sleep in. Take a few days to relax. Eventually, look for a job," I suggested, and added, "Get a job around here, or I'll skin you."

Wilson chuckled, tears in his eyes. "Thank you, Lisa," he said.

I looked in his eyes, feeling excruciating pain in my heart. Without thinking, I put my hand on his face, and we both leaned forward, embracing once more, but this time, with our lips.

Chapter 13 - Hug
House's POV

I threw my red stuffed ball against the office wall and caught it. I sighed as I threw it again, but dropped it. I picked it up and set it on my desk. I rubbed my forehead, unable to think straight. It's only been 4 days since Wilson was fired, but it's already taken it's toll on me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I was getting headaches due to all the anger that was bottled inside of me from not having Wilson to vent to. My mind was like a stray cat, wandering around aimlessly, and my leg was hurting more than ever, reacting to losing my best and only friend.

I sighed again, unsure of what to do. I eventually decided to go see Cuddy since I had successfully avoided her the past 4 days. I stepped into her office and she stopped what she was doing.

She sighed. "You try avoiding me, but eventually come right to me."

"Ironic," I said as I sat down while sucking a cherry lollipop. "Have you talked to Wilson?"

She shook his head. "Not since he was fired."

I sighed. "I think I'm gonna go see him today."

Cuddy nodded and smiled. "That would be nice of you."

I nodded, and Cuddy just looked at me. "You miss him."

I shrugged, and got up to leave. I limped out of the door and looked at my watch. I counted down the seconds until my shift was over. I think walked to my motorcycle, and headed straight for Wilson's apartment.

I arrived at his building, and walked to his room. I knocked, and sighed, not sure of what I would say to him or what he would say to me.

I knocked again, and began whistling. When I knocked the third time, I started becoming antsy, and knocked again and called his name loudly.

I saw a security guard and asked him if he knew if Wilson was home. He took out a small tablet from his pocket and searched for his name.

"That's a little stalker-ish," I commented.

"There was a robbery here last week. I monitor this hallway and keep track of who enters and who leaves," he replied.

I nodded and waited for the dude too find his name. "Room 412, James Wilson?" I nodded again and the guy shook his head. "He's been home for 4 days, he hasn't left once."

I looked at him funny. "Wilson hasn't left home in 4 days?" I questioned, and the man just nodded.

"Do you have a key for this door?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"Do you have anything I can pick the lock with?" I questioned, panicking.

"Are you trying to rob this apartment in front of a security guard, sir?"

I groaned. "No! This is my best friend!" I paused and tried to think. I turned to him. "Can you help me break the door down?" I asked as I began trying to pick the lock with a paper clip I found in my pocket.

"No, sir," he answered. "Maybe he's sick in bed. I'll continue monitoring here, and contact you if-"

"No!" I yelled again. "He just lost his job, lost his girlfriend. He's on anti-depressants," I said as I threw the paper clip on the ground. "I need to get this goddamn door open!"

"I'm sorry, I don't have a warrant to enter the apartment, or-"

"Does his life matter?" I shouted. "Because it matters to me!"

The man just looked at me and then at th floor as I said, "I'm a cripple, I can't break the door down by myself."

He sighed and nodded. We both rammed into the door, getting it down the first time.

"I'll look for a body," he said.

"No, look for Wilson!" I practically screamed. Before I even stepped foot in any room, I heard the bathroom door open. I limped into the hallway to find Wilson walking toward me, a towel tied around his waist while using another to dry his hair.

"Do you ever think that someone might be in the shower or something?" he inquired. "You're not everyone's first priority, House," he reminded.

I just smiled at him, and Wilson asked, "Why are you smiling?" I continued grinning and he looked down and asked, "Did my towel fall down?"

I laughed, and walked toward him. I quickly wrapped my arms around him, embracing him.

Wilson didn't move, he just questioned, "Are you hugging me?"

"Yes," I answered, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

"You've never hugged me before," he pointed out.

"Just shut up," I ordered.

He must of gave up because he wrapped his arms around me, hugging me. I sighed as I watched the security guard leave quietly so Wilson wouldn't be confused. I still had to explain the broken down door, though.

Chapter 14 - Cleanse
Wilson's POV

For the first time in my life, I felt unsure and confused about my feelings. My emotions were usually straight-forward and easy for me to identify, but when House hugged me, I had no clue how to react. All he did was hug me; something so simple and direct, but it made my heart ache in a way I can't explain.

After House was done explaining why my door was broken down, I thought my heart was going to explode. I called the apartment manager and they got some utility worker to fix it at no charge. The fact that House was truly worried and panicking over me made what I knew I had to do that much harder.

"How have you been?" House asked me.

I shrugged as I poured the two of us glasses of tea. "As good as I can be," I answered.

He nodded and took a sip of his drink. We fell silent; there wasn't much of anything to say. I took a breath and finally asked if Cuddy had told him anything about me getting fired.

"Not that I heard," he started. "I've been avoiding her for the past couple days, though."

I nodded and looked down, but felt House's eyes on me. "Why?" he asked.

"Just wondering," I deflected.

House sighed, still staring at me. "You are, once again, hiding something from me and underestimating my power of analyzation."

I smirked. "I'm not hiding anything."

"Something about Cuddy," he said, ignoring my statement. "Something she said of something she did."

"Nothing, House."

"Definitely something by how quickly you shot that down," House fought.

I groaned, but knew he would pry it out of me sooner or later, so I began to tell him.

"After I got fired, I left the room and Cuddy followed," I stated. "And we, well, kissed."

"Huh," House said, thinking.

I sighed and drank another sip of tea. We sat in quiet for an eternity until I decided it was now or never.

"I don't think I can do this anymore," I told him.

"Do what?" he questioned.

"This," I started. "Hang out with you."

House made a face. "Be my friend?"

I nodded, and House rightly asked, "Why?"

I sighed. "Before I met you, I had a wife who loved me, a job, friends-"

"I wasn't the reason you and Julie divorced. You brought that on yourself."

"I know i did, but it's because of you."

House looked at me questionably, and I said, "I wasn't spending any time with my wife because I was spending all my time with you. I wanted to be with you and not Julie."

House shook his head. "So, that's it? Years of friendship down the drain because you're still stuck in the past?"

I sighed. "I just need to cleanse the negativity out of my life."

"And I'm the metaphor for negativity?" he asked, and I painfully nodded.

"I don't want to do this, House, believe me. I just know I have to do it to get my life back on track."

House sighed and stood up. He went to the door to leave, but turned around to face me and said, "It's not fair."

I looked him in the eye. "You can't always get what you want," I said, echoing The Rolling Stones.

"But if you try sometimes, you might get what you need," he replied, "And I need you."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I said, "You never tried."

He looked to the floor and nodded as I said, "In this friendship, I gave and gave and never received anything in return. I was okay with that, though, because I had nowhere else to go."

"Where do you have to go now?"

I bit my lip and looked down at my hands. "Nowhere," I said. "But I'll just have to deal with that."

House nodded and limped out without saying another word. Once the door was shit, I felt the tears explode from my eyes and onto my face. I popped a few anti-depressants just like how House did with his Vicodin. I felt a stab in the heart when realizing House hand't been out of my life for more than 10 seconds and I was already making similes about him.

Chapter 15 - Reason's and Meanings
Cuddy's POV

I heard a knock on my door and assumed it was him. "Coming!" I called as I quickly put my earrings on and gave myself a final spray of perfume. I walked out of the bathroom and grabbed my black leather purse, which nicely complemented my white dress and black heels. I turned the lamp off that sat by the TV and walked to the door. I took a deep breath before opening it.

I grinned at him as he walked up to me, planting a luscious kiss on my lips. "You look beautiful," he said, and I couldn't help by giggle and blush. I told him he looked handsome, and he just thanked me, obviously nervous.

We left the house soon afterwords and headed to the restaurant. We were showed to our reserved table and we sat down. I couldn't help smiling at him. I don't know why, but he never failed to give me a happy feeling; an affectionate feeling that I couldn't deny. Wilson was just like that; he had a wonderful charm that I held so dear.

"How's everything at Princeton?" he asked after we ordered our meals.

I nodded. "Good, good," as I smiled sadly at him. "House and I miss you like crazy."

Wilson smiled wryly. "I don't think House will be missing me much anymore," he said, and I looked at him questionably. He gave me a weird look and asked, "House didn't tell you?" I shook my head and he sighed. "I told him I couldn't be his friend anymore."

I stuck my neck out, surprised. "Why?"

He shrugged a little. "I love House, I really do. God knows why, but I do. I just couldn't do it anymore; it was taking a final toll on me. I miss him like hell, but I'm hoping it'll pass," he said.

I looked at him sadly. "James, it's been2 months since you were fired and you still miss him."

He sighed and looked at me. "It's a long process."

I smiled at him. "I understand why you did it. I think everyone deserves a break from House every once and a while, but you really deserved it." He smirked, and I continued. "But, like you said, he's your best friend for unknown reasons, but those reasons have a deep, deep meaning." He looked at me before looking away, thinking about what I said. "He misses you, James. He needs you - you're his best friend."

Wilson nodded. "Maybe I'll go talk to him or stop by his condo sometime...I don't know," he said, hesitated, and added, "I didn't really think anything until the night I was fired; when talking to Volgler. He asked me why I was friends with House and I couldn't think of a reason. One reason, Lisa, not one."

I sighed and shrugged. "Sometimes you don't need a reason. Sometimes you just need the meaning."

"What's the meaning?"

I looked at him with sorry eyes. "I don't know," I truthfully answered. "After we're done here, I want you to go see him; to find the meaning."

He genuinely smiled at me, and said he would. We quickly changed the subject, and talked about other things - our lives, mostly. I never felt so comfortable telling someone about my childhood, my memories, my dreams and my goals, and I was never so fascinated in someone elses.

The time flew by; it was heading into the night. We had a glass of wine before getting into his car and driving home. He dropped me off and we walked to my door. I turned and grinned at him, telling him I had a wonderful time. He smiled and kissed me again before we officially ended our night.

I walked inside of my house and immediately took off my painful heals. I sighed and headed to my bedroom, quickly stripping from the white dress. I threw a light pink nightgown on and crawled into bed. I yawned and rubbed my eyes, but smiled from feeling overly content.

That was probably the best date of my life. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could bring me down. I went to sleep that night smiling, knowing my life might finally be heading down the right path.