They're careful and cautious, but he's known both of them long enough to know, and he's definitely known them both long enough to know that this is a very bad idea, but he's had a few bad ideas of his own as of late, so he figures he's in no position to judge.

That doesn't stop him from judging, of course. There's really nothing wrong with it at first glance - she's beautiful, he's handsome. They're both smart, witty, funny and generally fun to be around when they manage to work the stick free of their collective ass. He knows they both look good in nothing at all, though Wilson doesn't know he knows that about her, and House really isn't all that keen to tell.

It's only when you look closer that you see the cracks in the veneer. She's his boss and, vicodin-induced hallucination of Cuddy agreeing that he should date Cameron aside, he knows that they both know it's a bad idea. Dangerous. He's married, which she knows she shouldn't get involved in, since involved men have only ever hurt her. He can taste that bitter truth in the back of his own throat.

But they move together well, dodging and gliding through the pretenses of the day until it's late and dark and the whisper-soft pulse of the hospital has faded to a soft beeping in the background. Her office is large and closed and the blinds are drawn and he knows that they'll move together in secret and in silence and the day will fall away for an hour or so before they both give in to reality and go their separate ways.

He can diagnose them without seeing their faces after. In love, in denial. Broken hearts all around. If his own didn't sting so badly with regret and pride, he could almost feel bad for them. He rests his hand on the outside of Cuddy's door, a slight smile on his face. He wants to wish them well.

The best he can do is be there to pick up the pieces when it all falls apart.