The morning sun cast a warm glow over the college quad, where booths from various clubs and organizations lined the walkways. Lisa Cuddy adjusted the banner above their sorority's bake sale table, smoothing out the wrinkles with a quick swipe of her hand. She glanced over at her friend, who was setting out the last batch of cookies and cupcakes with practiced ease. They had spent the week preparing, and now the fundraiser was finally underway. Cuddy felt that familiar flutter in her chest every time she caught herself looking at her friend, something that had grown steadily over the past months, subtle but impossible to ignore.

From across the quad, Cuddy spotted House making his usual entrance, swagger in full effect, a mischievous grin on his face. He made a beeline for their table, clearly intending to test Cuddy's patience. She raised an eyebrow but kept her tone even when she greeted him. "House, try not to scare off the customers before we even start, okay?"

Her voice had that blend of amusement and warning that only he could provoke. Wilson, quieter and more reserved, followed at a distance, carrying a box of cupcakes to share. His soft smile was the calming counterpoint to House's disruptive energy.

The trio's dynamic was a constant in her life, but today, Cuddy's focus kept drifting back to her friend. The way she arranged the pastries, the gentle smile she wore when chatting with passersby, it all made Cuddy's chest tighten with an unfamiliar warmth. She tried to push the feeling aside, reminding herself this was just friendship, just a bond strengthened by shared late-night study sessions and endless conversations. Yet, every accidental touch or meaningful glance left her wondering if there was something more waiting to be acknowledged.

House, refusing to be ignored, dropped a sarcastic comment about their "overly sweet" offerings just as a group of students approached. Cuddy shot him a sharp look but laughed softly to ease the tension. "Less complaining, House. This is for a good cause."

She turned to her friend, grateful for the way she smoothly deflected the jab with a witty comeback of her own, the kind that made Cuddy's heart skip a beat more than once. There was something about her friend's confidence mixed with kindness that grounded her, made the chaos of her college life seem manageable.

As the afternoon rolled on, the bake sale gained momentum. Cuddy found herself stealing small moments beside her friend, sharing quiet jokes and encouraging smiles between customers. Her mind raced with thoughts she wasn't quite ready to voice aloud, the way she felt seen in a way that went beyond the surface, how being near her friend was slowly becoming the best part of her day. The easy rhythm of their friendship, paired with those growing feelings, was a mix both thrilling and terrifying.

Wilson wandered over occasionally, his gentle presence a soothing background to the day's noise. He offered quiet support and a steady hand, knowing well how House's antics could fray nerves. Cuddy appreciated his balance, but today her attention was mostly fixed on her friend. She caught herself watching the way her friend's eyes lit up when she laughed, how she seemed completely comfortable in the moment, and it struck Cuddy how much she wanted to be the reason for that happiness more often.

House, ever the provocateur, teased Cuddy about her distracted mood as he grabbed a cookie. "What's got you spacing out? Daydreaming about your sorority crush?" The words hit with a mixture of irritation and unexpected truth. Cuddy bit back a smile and met House's gaze head-on.

"Maybe I am," she admitted quietly, a spark of daring threading through her voice. The corner of House's mouth twitched, a rare moment of acknowledgment passing between them.

The day stretched ahead, full of possibilities and the quiet hope that this fundraiser might turn into something more than just a successful event. Cuddy's heart beat a little faster as she glanced at her friend again, feeling the warmth of something growing, patient and real, just beneath the surface. The bake sale was just beginning, and so was whatever this was between them.