When House lit up a cigarette in front of him at the Denny's, Wilson couldn't help but frown.

"Another self-destructive habit to add to the list?"

House took a hearty bite of his eggs and a great, flourishing drag. "I'm just another workin' joe, enjoying my workin' joe breakfast of Moons over My Hammy and my workin' joe smoke to make it all stick in the ol' ticker."

"In front of your workin' joe oncologist, who can quote you the latest statistics of lung cancer due to first-hand smoking off the top of his head."

House favored him with a cryptic grin and blew the smoke straight at him. "Well, at least it's not the deadlier second-hand kind."

Wilson shook his head and poured syrup over his pancakes. He actually enjoyed the smell of cigarette smoke - it reminded him of good times back in med school - but damned if he was going to admit that to House.

"So - to rank the humpability of the nurses: where would you say Tranny Nurse - "

"Chris."

" - oh, that's practical: he didn't even have change his name, just his balls - where does Tranny Nurse fall?"

Wilson tapped his fork on his plate, thinking. "Mm... well, she looks like she had a pretty good doctor... I'd say between Riley in Endo and Sowell in the ER." Wilson took a sip of his orange juice. "What?"

House tilted his head back. "Those are the hottest nurses in the hospital."

"I said she had a good doctor."

"He's a man."

"Was. What, and you knew this right away?"

"Considering his height and the size of his hands? Yeah. How do you function? Do you only notice cancer and me fucking up?"

Wilson arched his eyebrow. "Pretty much. Monitoring those two things eats up a huge amount of mental resources, believe you me. Especially the latter. You're quite creative at it."

"Don't wanna lose your interest, James."

Wilson looked down at his plate, grinning, irrationally enjoying the use of his first name. To this day everyone in his family, even his ex-wives, called him Jimmy, and he preferred Jimmy, but somehow House's sardonic tone made it all right. He took a bite of his bacon and glanced up at House, who then winked at him. Now he had to laugh.

A pretty waitress sidled up to them with a pot of coffee. "Freshen y'all's cup?"

"Some for me, none for him," House replied. "Get too much caffeine in him and I can't keep him off me."

Oh, good Lord. "Please, ignore him. He's got issues; we're working on them."

With a warm, knowing smile, the waitress - Charlene, the tag said - refilled both their cups. "You two are real cute together. Hope that marriage thing passes for y'all."

"Our fingers are crossed!" House said gleefully as she left. Wilson had to put his head in his hand.

"Why? Why would you do that?"

House's face became exaggeratedly stricken. "What are you saying?"

Wilson sighed and rolled his eyes. "Hanging out with you all the time is not doing anything for my sex life."

"Yeah. And a rumor around the hospital about us being a couple can't help."

Wilson nearly dropped his fork. "What?"

"Dipping into the company pool isn't the greatest thing for you, as you've so proven by not only dipping in the company pool, but also into the cancer-ridden algae at the bottom of that pool."

Wilson felt a burning flush rising to the top of his ears. "So you spread a rumor that we're gay?"

"Oh, please. Just a few more 'looks' on my part, coupled with your never-ending stream of doe-eyed entreaties - and people just ran with pre-existing gossip. We lived together, for crying out loud."

He was either going to faint or punch House right in the middle of this restaurant. House, of course, was waiting to see what his reaction was going to be.

Wilson tried to suck in some calming breaths around his clenched teeth and sawed at his ham.

"What are you so upset about?"

This time he did drop his fork. "House. Contrary to your own narcissism, I don't need you fucking around with my life."

"Neither do I, yet here we are."

Wilson stared at House. House popped a home fry into his mouth and regarded him with a studied nonchalance.

"So this is, what - payback?"

Something subtle shifted in House's expression, and it somehow gutted Wilson's anger.

House began regarding his coffee cup. "No. Some people just have certain tendencies, that's all," he answered measuredly. He stirred his coffee and took a sip, and said nothing else.

The cigarette was lying in the ashtray, long forgotten - one solid ash and still smoking slightly.

House's face had become calm, so Wilson watched him - this was a rarity and he was going to take it in while it lasted. With the clinking of diner noise and the smell of cigarette smoke, Wilson found himself strangely at peace.

House, apparently unaware of the scrutiny, mopped up some egg with his toast and gazed at Wilson's plate thoughtfully. Wilson's fork was ready to nail House's when it honed in on a piece of ham.

"I'm not finished," Wilson stated as House attempted to wrestle his fork out from under Wilson's.

"Who cares? I'm hungry. Or would you like me to see how filling Vicodin can be? Though it definitely can hit the spot sometimes."

Wilson narrowed his eyes at him. "Finish your damn toast first and let me enjoy my meal."

This earned him a lopsided grin from House. Wilson allowed himself to savor his victory as he chewed his ham.

House munched on his toast and cocked his head to the side, watching him.

"You know, you can tell a lot about by how a person eats how they'll be in bed."

"You know, you can tell a lot about a person's sexual proclivities by how much they flirt with their male companion."

"I have to get my rocks off for free sometimes." House winked again, but at someone passing by, and Wilson flinched when he saw Charlene the waitress.

"You boys lemme know if you need anything," she drawled, her voice sly.

Wilson sighed as he watched her rather attractive figure saunter off. "Again - being with you: bad for my sex life."

Wilson suddenly found his hand being gripped tightly by House's. "Oh, James - have I been neglecting you lately?"

Wilson didn't look at House at first, but at their conjoined hands. House still kept his grip firm, and his hand was warm and solid, and Wilson felt good about that. He found himself placing his other hand on top of House's.

"For a while," he said softly. "But you're here now." Wilson looked up, and House was staring at their hands. Wilson gave House's hand a squeeze and let go.

They ate in silence. Wilson caught a glimpse Charlene chatting with one of the other waitresses and pointing at their table. Wilson saw the other waitress' eyebrows jump up and she now was looking back and forth between him and House. Charlene smiled and gave a little wave.

Wilson looked over at House, who had pulled Wilson's plate over and was now looking at him dead in the eye and triumphantly eating what was left of his eggs.

Wilson smiled despite himself, and waved back at Charlene.

Fin