It doesn't sound nearly so sordid in her mind. "I don't mind going out for a drink now and then," she clarifies, though her tone manages to imply that anything outside the safe space of her apartment or his room will be done as colleagues, and nothing more. Nothing romantic. Not where others can see; keeping this quiet is important. She's not ready to take that step; and if House finds out, who knows what he'll let slip.

Or microwave pizza. The comparison makes her lips twitch into a brief smile. "Because you didn't get weird about it last time." Not even a pause. She doesn't want to discuss that. Because it doesn't suck. The laundry list of reasons she gave last time-- all rational and true-- seems a little weak, and lying has never been her strong point. "I've known you longer than anyone here. We work together, we spend time together anyway, and we get along well enough." That's accompanied by a little, innocent shrug. It's as close as she can stomach coming to saying she misses him, misses what they had. Will have, until he says what she's been quietly, contentedly ignoring.