House, MD is the property of David Shore, Bad Hat Harry Productions, Heel and Toe Productions, and NBC Universal. I claim no ownership to any parts or characters.

Author's Note: Setting is early to mid-season 4. Story is intended to be strong H/W friendship only but can be seen as pre-slash for anyone so inclined.

The shrill beeping of the alarm clock pounded into his skill like a jackhammer and made him jump. He peeked an eye open toward the bedside table at the clock. 7:15

Damn it.

House groaned into his pillow, wanting more than anything to pull the blanket over his head and go back to sleep. Normally he would have without a second thought, except that after finding out that he had blown off his clinic duty earlier that week and hid out in Wilson's office Cuddy had threatened to quadruple his hours and his scheduled days if he skipped out again.

He rebelliously laid where he was for another five minutes before heaving an irritated sigh and forcing himself to move. His leg howled its morning hello as he reached automatically for the pill bottle next to the clock.

The scowl planted itself over his face while he headed reluctantly for the shower.

______________________________________________________________________________

Wilson drained the last of his coffee as he looked over the scans in front of him but his attention was rudely interrupted when the gulp turned out to be cold. He spit it back into the cup with a grimace of disgust.

He checked his watch and then pushed away from the desk. The way he was feeling that morning, he wouldn't have objected to getting a coffee IV line inserted straight into his veins.

It didn't surprise him to see that House hadn't arrived yet when he rounded the corner out of his office. The man made it his goal to see just how late he could push it to piss Cuddy off every day. He was intending to head downstairs to grab another cup of coffee from the cafeteria, but the smell of it wafting from the Diagnostics conference room was too inviting.

The team looked up when he pushed open the door and he smiled. "Morning, guys," he said, nodding toward them.

Kutner returned the greeting with naïve enthusiasm, making Foreman glance his way with amusement and huff a small condescending laugh. Thirteen greeted him with a pleasant smile and Taub regarded him somewhat suspiciously but gave him a nod in return.

Foreman tilted his head towards him with an expression of familiar camaraderie as Wilson walked further inside. "Morning," he replied.

"Uh-" Kutner spoke a little too loudly and sat up from his slumped position like he was eager. "House isn't here yet."

The look of incredulous amazement that Taub directed toward the younger man at the statement made Wilson quickly clear his throat to keep from laughing. Kutner didn't notice and though he was positive that someone was going to blurt out what he knew they all wanted to (his immediate retort of "No shit, Shirlock?" was the politest out of the others in his head), he couldn't bring himself to be mean to him. Yet.

"The only thing I'm looking for is caffeine," he said vehemently, heading straight for the coffeepot as he spoke. "I hate Mondays."

"Trust me, we know the feeling," Thirteen said wryly.

He chuckled while filling a mug. "You've already got a case?" he said in surprise, looking towards them for a minute as he sifted through the packets of sugar and creamer. "It's barely even 8:30."

Foreman rolled his eyes. "He's got clinic duty until noon. He's been texting us descriptions of people waiting trying to get us to diagnose them so that he doesn't have to see them," he said. He shared a longsuffering look with Wilson before nodding toward the far counter. "There might be a couple of boxes of flavored creamer somewhere in there if you want."

Wilson raised both eyebrows agreeably and went over to it. The team resumed their previous discussion while he poked around underneath the counter.

______________________________________________________________________________

Leaning casually against the nurses' station, House scanned the waiting room again and then glanced at Cuddy's office. Empty.

He began typing another message with the phone held down low in front of him so that it was out of sight of anyone passing.

MID AGE WMN. MAKEUP TOO DARK. BELIEVE SHE MAY BE ZOMBIE.

"House."

The stern voice came from behind him and made him jump. He pressed SEND quickly before turning around.

Cuddy glared at him. "Why are there so many people-" she gestured in irritation at the crowded waiting room-"out here and you're not in there?"

She looked toward the exam room doors pointedly. He eyed her in concern when her gaze leveled at him again.

"You do realize," he said with his eyes narrowed in scrutiny, "that it might not be a good thing to make that vein in your forehead pop out so much?"

Her eyes flashed at him as she snatched up one of many patient files that he was supposed to be working through. She looked like she was going to hit him with it and he raised his arm up with a warning look. Cuddy's lip curled in disgust.

"I don't need to use violence to hurt you," she said cynically. He sneered at her and she smacked the file into his chest firmly. "The patient in exam room two has been waiting for fifteen minutes. You either get in there now or you'll be covering diaper duty in the maternity ward for the next three months."

He strode away quickly towards the room without a second thought. She smiled.

"Killian, Adam," he recited loudly as he burst into the room reading the file. .

The man sitting on the exam table jumped at his entrance and House mentally gave himself a point.

"Please tell me how I can help you," he went on sarcastically, dropping onto the stool and rolling to the table. "I am just dying to make your day better."

Killian looked at him with annoyance. "I've been waiting in here for twenty minutes," he said angrily.

House raised his eyebrows with shock. "My God," he declared. "Twenty minutes? Wow." He looked down exaggeratedly at his watch. "That means that….18, 203 of your brain cells were killed sitting here. If I were you I'd sue this hospital."

He pulled the file open loudly with a steely gaze that showed how he felt about the man's complaining. The patient's expression turned dark.

"So," House continued. He read from the file again. "You have several bumps on your arm that look like pimples…."

______________________________________________________________________________

House's team was striding down the hall in his direction when Wilson stepped out of his office and he greeted them with a smile as they passed each other. He continued down the corridor while they disappeared into the conference room.

Cuddy's office was empty when he stepped through the lobby doors. It surprised him a little but he figured something urgent must have just popped up within the last few moments. He stepped further into the office and sat down on the couch to wait for her.

She didn't make an appearance until close to fifteen minutes later, when he suddenly caught a glimpse of her back positioned beside the nurses' station from out of nowhere. He'd already been afforded a glorious eyeful earlier when she was walking away from them but couldn't resist helping himself to another through the glass windows of the office.

It both marveled and mystified him how the she did it. If he hadn't have known and been such good friends with her over the past five years, he would have sworn that their Dean of Medicine wasn't really a human. Had any one of his former wives ever put that purple skirt-suit with matching heels, she would have just ended up looking like a canvass of something resembling grape-flavored vomit. Worn by Lisa Cuddy, it sent his mind conjuring up replications of the porn videos he ordered on Sunday nights.

The nurse standing behind the desk pointed toward him and he was quick to avert his gaze when he saw Cuddy turn around. Consequently, it made him miss the look of confusion on her face along with the even lovelier front-angle portrait she made.

He made sure not to look up until he heard the door opening, so that he could direct his eyes in a straight path right up to her face without stopping for a scenic visit elsewhere.

"Wilson?"

She stepped into the office with an air of someone extremely rushed and wearing a slightly confused expression. Her voice was wary as she regarded him on her couch.

"Did…you need something?" she asked.

His own brows crinkled curiously at her demeanor but it was easy to see that she had obviously been in the middle of something. He immediately rose to his feet, waving at her reassuringly.

"Oh, no, no," he said, shaking his head insistently. "You're busy. Just let me know when you're ready for me. I can wait, it's not a problem."

Her already unsure face morphed into practically incredulity. "Beg your pardon?" she inquired with raised eyebrows.

She sounded genuinely baffled and was looking at him like he'd sprouted a second head from his neck. Uneasiness began to seep into his bones as he shifted a bit to pull the folded paper from his pocket.

"I…got this email a few minutes ago," he began, holding the message he'd printed out awkwardly. "Saying something urgent had come up with one of my cases and you needed to meet…"

Before the words were out of his mouth he realized with dread that the situation was horribly wrong. Her perplexed expression as she was taking the paper from him and unfolding it said it all.

His blush spread all the way down his neck. "That you…obviously didn't send me," he finished lamely as she scanned the words with a critical eye.

From: Cuddy, Lisa A. (.)

To: Wilson, James E. (.)

Subject: Urgent

Dr Wilson,

I have come across an area of concern regarding the case file of Daniel Joseph Baldwin (case # 006472) that you submitted for my approval. Please meet with me immediately to discuss this matter.

Thank you,

Lisa Cuddy, M.D.

Dean of Medicine

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital

Her forehead crinkled. "This didn't come from my computer," she said plainly. "I didn't send this…" Her expression furrowed even more. "Wilson, I signed off on this case last Thursday. You came here and picked it up yourself before I had the chance to get it to your office."

Embarrassment sent his face flushing again. He hadn't even remembered that when he had read the message. Now it flashed in his mind like a neon sign. He had personally watched Mr. Daniel Baldwin being wheeled out of the hospital after overseeing two days worth of post-operational care from the surgery removing a tumor from his kidney.

"Oh," he said dumbly. He felt like a complete idiot. "Um…yeah. Yeah. This-this must have accidentally been recycled into my inbox again." His cheeks were hot now. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Cuddy replied distractedly. She had already pulled the door back open quickly and her voice was dismissing him while trying to remain polite. "I'm sorry, Wilson, but I have to be upstairs in about four seconds-"

"Right," Wilson said quickly. He hurried to leave while inwardly kicking himself. "Right, of course."

She spared him a rushed smile as they parted ways in the lobby and then scurried to the elevator. He crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the trash on the way back upstairs.

But for some reason, the email kept nagging at him. He was having a hard time keeping his mind on what he was doing. When he lost the point he was trying to remember for the second time while working on a committee lecture, he had enough. He turned back toward the computer and clicked on the email program.

He ignored the new messages for the moment and scrolled down to the one from Cuddy that he hadn't yet erased. He was positive that this was the first time he had seen it. Still, he clicked into his outbox to see if it had come from there. It hadn't. He did the same with drafts, deleted messages, and sent messages even though he knew checking that one was pointless. Nothing.

Wilson furrowed his brow. He opened the message again. It wasn't until he read through it again that he thought to check the time stamp and it confirmed his belief.

It had been sent to him that day.