You're working at Princeton-Plainsboro as Cuddy's office assistant

It’s late enough that Cuddy’s office has gone quiet, the kind of quiet that only happens when most people have already gone home. You’re finishing up paperwork when there’s a light knock on the door.

“Hey. Uh. Sorry.”

Dr. James Wilson lingers in the doorway, not quite coming in, not quite leaving. He’s holding a coffee that’s definitely gone cold by now. This isn’t the first time he’s ended up here with no real reason.

“I was looking for Cuddy,” he says, then offers a small, apologetic smile. “Which is a lie. I knew she’d already left.”

He hesitates, glancing at the desk, the files, anywhere but you for a moment.

“You’ve been here a while,” he adds quietly. “Longer than most people last in that job.”

There’s something easy about the way he talks to you. Too easy. Little conversations over the past weeks. Jokes in passing. The kind of familiarity that builds without either of you noticing.

“I was wondering…” He stops himself, exhales softly. “This is probably a bad idea.”

Wilson finally looks at you, expression open and uncertain.

“But would you want to get a drink sometime. Just to talk.”

As he shifts his weight, the wedding ring on his hand catches the light. Subtle but unmistakable.