DO NOT PROCEED UNTIL YOU HAVE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello boys and girls. I'm a canon junkie. That means I generally try to keep my stories as close to canon as possible. It's for that reason that I am trying very hard to keep an open mind about where the show is headed. Because the alternative is that I will no longer be able to enjoy it.

I have decided to spend the summer constructing a story that explores the idea of House and Cuddy being together, as realistically as possible. That means that I will be writing it exactly how it would probably go, if this were real life and not a product of someone's out of character, girlish fantasy. There will be dialogue only conversations between a variety of characters. Like this first chapter, for instance, is between Wilson and Foreman.

If you're a fan of my work, but NOT this pairing, I would like to ask you to stop reading now. I won't be offended. If you simply don't possess that degree of self control, I would like to ask that you at least refrain from commenting, just to let me know how much you hate this pairing. Why? Because I hate this pairing too. But I love a challenge. And that's all this is for me, a challenge.

That being said, enjoy. I've got about 14 chapters in progress at the moment and hope to update this at least once a week.

(The night of Hannah's death, Wilson asks Foreman to go check on House, and then call him to let him know how it went.)

Chapter 1

"So...did you check on him?"

"Yep."

"And is he alright?"

"Seems to be."

"You're absolutely sure."

"Yes."

"I mean, I don't want to jump to any conclusions. But after what happened earlier tonight, it's very possible that he might decide to go back on the Vicodin."

"I...didn't see anything that would substantiate that theory."

"Well that's good, right?"

"Yeah."

"So where did you find him?"

"In bed."

"..."

"Or on it anyway."

"Did you take his vitals?"

"Not...exactly."

"Then how the hell do you know that he's okay?"

"There are…other ways to tell if someone's heart is beating."

"Are you trying to be funny? Because this really isn't the time."

"Definitely not trying to be funny."

"Did you at least check to see if he was breathing?"

"Trust me. He was breathing."

"But did you actually check?"

"No."

"You need to go back and check."

"Wilson, he's fine. At the moment, he's probably better than fine."

"Well excuse me if it seems like I'm overreacting...but supposedly several hundred pounds of dirt and rubble fell on top of him. He could have internal injuries. He could be hypoperfusional. He probably has raised liver enzymes."

"I didn't see anything that was diagnostic of cardiovascular shock."

"But what if it isn't vascular? It could be an acute stress reaction."

"Which isn't life threatening and tends to resolve itself within a few hours."

"For normal people. This is House we're talking about."

"I didn't see any evidence of an acute stress reaction either."

"How was his breathing?"

"Well..."

"Was it labored at all?"

"It was...rapid."

"How rapid?"

"It's not diagnostic, at least not in this case."

"But you don't know that for sure, because you didn't even take his vitals."

"I examined him...visually."

"From what, like ten feet away?"

"More like five."

"So he was hyperventilating and you don't think it's qualifies as a symptom?"

"I didn't say he was hyperventilating. I said his breathing was rapid."

"You don't think rapid breathing qualifies as a symptom? He could have a pulmonary embolism or a pneumothorax."

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't have either of those things."

"And what are you basing that on?"

"The fact that there are plenty of other reasons for increased respiration."

"Like what?"

"Like…physical exertion, for instance."

"How the hell would he be exerting himself? He's in bed."

"Um…"

"It could be his heart. Did you check for cardiac tamponade?"

"His heart is fine."

"But how can you even know that? You didn't even take his pulse, for God's sake."

"He's not dead, Wilson. I observed him myself. He was very much alive. He was breathing. His heart was beating and he was most definitely not in shock."

"Look...it's not that I don't believe you or anything. I'm just…I'd feel better if I went and checked on him myself."

"I really don't think that's necessary."

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying that he's fine. Therefore you don't have to go check on him."

"How did his shoulder look?"

"Fine."

"Was it still bleeding?"

"I...didn't really get a chance to examine it properly."

"Why not?"

"Because I was…distracted."

"Distracted by what?"

"I...really don't feel comfortable being the one to impart that information."

"What the hell's going on, Foreman?"

"Nothing that you should be getting worked up about."

"But something is going on."

"Yes."

"Well regardless of whatever state it might be in, the wound on his shoulder is going to need to be re-bandaged."

"I think he's got that covered."

"Oh?"

"Which is impressive if you think about it, considering he didn't have anything else covered."

"What does that mean?"

"Eh...never mind."

"I appreciate you going down there. But again, I think maybe I'd feel better if I just checked on him myself."

"And again...I honestly don't think that's a good idea."

"Yet you still haven't offered me any sort of explanation for that."

"I already told you. It's not my place to impart that information."

"If you know something, why can't you just tell me what it is?"

"Because doing so would mean violating his confidentiality."

"Then why are we even having this conversation?"

"You asked me to check on him and let you know how he was doing. And I did that."

"Then why does it feel like you're not telling me everything?"

"Because I'm not."

"..."

"Look...if you manage to figure it out on your own, that's great. But my involvement ends there."

"Well...thanks, I guess."

"So what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you going to drop in on him?"

"I think maybe I'm just going to call him instead. If nothing else, it'll be slightly less confrontational."

"Yeah...that sounds good."

"..."

"So when are you planning on doing that?"

"I don't know. What difference does it make?"

"None."

"Then why are you asking?"

"I just...I think you may want to hold off on making that call."

"Hold off? For how long?"

"Hmm...no more than an hour or so."

"What's going to be happening in an hour or so?"

"It's more like what isn't going to be happening."

"Can you stop being cryptic and just tell me what's going on?"

"I honestly don't know if he'd even bother answering the phone. But I'm pretty sure that he wouldn't appreciate being interrupted twice in one night."

"What the hell would I be interrupting?"

"Physical exertion?"

"But he's in bed."

"Are you being intentionally dense?"

"Now why would I do that?"

"You wouldn't. I just...I genuinely thought you'd have figured it out by now."

"It's been a really long day."

"Right."

"..."

"I'm...not really sure how to put this."

"How to put what?"

"House is breathing rapidly."

"So you've said."

"House is breathing rapidly because he's...exerting himself."

"So you've also said."

"And he's in bed."

"..."

"It's been my experience that beds are made for more than just...sleeping on."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well okay then."

"..."

"And that's what you didn't want to be the one to tell me?"

"That's...part of it."

"House getting laid might be rare. But it's hardly shocking."

"It wasn't really what he was doing, so much as who he was doing it with."

"So who was he doing it with?"

"I...can't say."

"But you said you didn't have a problem with me figuring it out on my own, right?"

"Right."

"So how about if I just ask yes or no questions?"

"Wilson..."

"Humor me."

"Alright...but just a couple. Then I've got to go."

"Was it a hooker?"

"Definitely not."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Was it someone I know?"

"Yes."

"Was someone who works at the hospital?"

"Yes."

"Was it someone who I might consider to be a friend?"

"Yes."

"Huh."

"What?"

"That didn't really tell me much."

"Seriously?"

"I told you, it's been a really long day. I'm exhausted."

"Yeah you'd kind of have to be."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing."

"..."

"You know what? If you give him some time, he'll probably end up telling you himself."

"How much time?"

"I honestly don't know."

"But you think he'll choose to tell me at some point in the near future."

"Actually, yes. I do."

"That'll have to be good enough, I guess."

"..."

"I mean...maybe getting laid will be therapeutic for him."

"One can only hope."

"At the very least, he'll be in a better mood."

"Which will be good news for everyone."

"Well thanks for going to check on him. I really appreciate it."

"Hey...no problem."

"Listen...Cuddy asked me to call her, to let her know how House was doing."

"She did?"

"But I was thinking that maybe it would be better coming from you."

"Why?"

"Because you were there and I wasn't."

"That's...strange."

"What is?"

"When exactly did Cuddy make that request?"

"I don't know. A few hours ago. Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure that she already knows how House is doing."

"How would she know that?"

"I...can't say."

"Well what the hell can you say?"

"Are you going to call her at home?"

"I don't know if she'd even pick up at this hour. I was going to try her on her cell instead."

"This is just a suggestion. But you might want to wait about an hour before calling her as well."

"Wait...why?"

"Because she probably wouldn't appreciate being interrupted either."

"..."

"Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction."

"And you're sure that it was her?"

"Positive."

"How positive?"

"Like...a hundred and ten percent."

"Huh."

"Which is weird, because I thought she was engaged to that private detective guy, the one with the argyle socks. What's his name, Lance?"

"Lucas."

"Right."

"She must have broken it off with him."

"She didn't say anything to you about it?"

"No."

"Well if she ended their relationship, she must have done so very recently."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because she was wearing the ring yesterday morning. I saw her showing it off to some of the nurses in the clinic."

"Well...she apparently changed her mind."

"I guess so."

"..."

"Hey...look on the bright side. At least you weren't the one who walked in on them."

"True."

"Now there's a metal image I won't be getting rid of anytime soon."

"Wait...you mean to tell me that they were actually..."

"Going at it?"

"For lack of a more appropriate term."

"Yes. They were going at it."

"..."

"Rather nakedly and vigorously, I might add."

"Thanks for the graphic description, Foreman."

"No problem."

"There's a visual I didn't need."

"Hey, I refuse to suffer alone."

"Well...that at least explains the increased respiration."