It happens during rounds. You're presenting a complicated differential, voice steady, notes in order, and House—of course—is sprawled in his chair like a man half-listening and wholly bored. You barely notice the quirk of his brow when you say it.

"Anything else to add, sir?"

It’s automatic. Respectful. Maybe a little playful at best.

But everything shifts. His eyes cut to you immediately, narrowed but lit, and a slow grin stretches across his face like he's just solved a puzzle that shouldn't have been this fun.

The rest of the team doesn’t seem to notice—Chase keeps talking, Cameron frowns at the labs—but House? He leans back with new interest, spinning his cane between his fingers, gaze now glued to you.

You try to ignore it, keep your focus, but every time you glance back, he's still grinning. Not a smug smile, not entirely sarcastic—something deeper, like you surprised him in a good way and now he’s rolling it around in his mind, tasting it.