I am so spoiled; I keep getting all these terrific reviews! I am distraught that I don't have enough time online to reply personally (silly parents...), but I'm taking all your feedback to mind and very much appreciate that you're sticking with me! Here's chapter six, a little more lighthearted than the last. Enjoy!

Wilson sat in House's office, hands clasped like he was about to pray, jiggling his leg, biting his lip. He knew he had no right to be there, no right be waiting for him, no right to interrogate him. But Wilson had to know. Curiosity was eating him alive.

The door clicked open, and an exhausted-looking House entered the room. His eyes had been closed, but he felt the presence of someone else in the room, and wanted to know who it was. "Ah, James, Jimmy, Dr. Wilson, old pal," he said, using every name he could possibly think of for the man to show he was good and pissed off. "You're always here for me, even when I don't want you to be."

"Are you okay?" Wilson asked, ignoring the not-to-subtle hint to get the hell out of his office.

"I'm fine," House told him, teeth clenched. "Right as rain. It's not me you should be concerned about."

"How is Julia?"

"Physically, not too well. Mentally…not much better." House sighed, sinking into a chair. "It's not just the black eye and the slap on the face, though. There's just something off about her. Her mind is sharp and works remarkably well, considering, but…I don't know. Clearly, she's not well. I know something's very wrong, but I can't put my finger on it…" He pointed into the air, illustrating his description. A frustrated look came over his face. "But she'll be fine. You shouldn't be too worried about Julia, either. No, worry for that asshole step-father of hers. One way or another, he's gonna pay."

"House, what if he gets out of prison on bail?"

"He can't afford bail." He drew in a deep breath. "They're on welfare."

"What if he isn't convicted? What if she doesn't press charges, for whatever reason?"

"He will be. And she's not stupid enough to let him get away with it."

"19 years of it, House," Wilson narrated gently. "You'd be amazed at what people learn to deal with."

"What if he escapes jail?" House mimicked. "What if he hires someone to kill me? What if the boogeyman really exists? There's no use asking questions. We'll know soon enough, and there are more pressing matters to be concerned about than a man who is safely behind bars for the night. Like her health, for instance."

"I heard you lost the blood sample I collected for testing," Wilson mentioned.

House tensed. "Yes, I did. I'm a middle-aged man. These things come naturally to me."

"House," Wilson probed. "You didn't really lose it, did you?" Nothing but silence. In the dim lamplight, he saw House's jaw begin to work. "Maybe you took it to run a test of your own."

"Your speculation leaves much to be desired," House told him, but his voice had suddenly boosted upward an octave.

"Your games are up, House," Wilson said. "I saw it in the lab. You versus her. You wanted to know if you were related."

"Yes, I did," he admitted gruffly. "Why shouldn't I? She comes in here, claiming I'm her father. She's got my eyes, my tongue, and now apparently my DNA. I'm assuming if you were nosy enough to look for the test, you were nosy enough to look at the results."

Wilson nodded. "I'm sorry."

House shrugged. "What's done is done. For once, I am much too tired to deal with you, Wilson. Get back to me tomorrow and I'm sure I can come up with some biting, caustic remark to cause you shame."

"How does it make you feel?"

"I don't feel things, James," House reminded him. "You should know that by now."

He could have brought up what he'd seen. He could have brought up any number of things, from the look in his eyes, to how tenderly he had held her hand while she sobbed. But Wilson knew he had probably run out of luck. Better not to push it, not now. "Well, that's probably a blessing," he said simply. "You've been through a lot today."

House shook his head. "Not me. Julia's been through a lot. Do me a favor."

"Anything you like."

"Don't tell the others. I'm not sure I want them to know, and they'll probably pick up on it at some point anyway. They're not as dumb as they look."

Wilson smiled. "Alright." He glanced at his watch. "I should probably get home. It's past 9:00 already, and the Beast is waiting."

"Bye."

"See you."

House sat silently, contemplating as Wilson walked to the door. "Hey, Jimmy," he said suddenly.

Wilson twisted around, confused at this sudden change from formality to familiarity. "Yeah?"

"Be honest with me," House requested. "Julia…is she pretty, do you think?"

Wilson gulped. Oh, God. He's her father. He might kill me if I say the wrong thing.

"Hello? Earth to James Wilson," House said, waving at him. "Do you think Julia's pretty?" Sensing his hesitance, House smiled. "In case you were afraid, I'm not the type of dad who's going to chase after you with a BB gun for having hormones. I'm a hip dad, I'm cool, I'm groovy."

"I think the word the kids are using these days is 'sweet,'" Wilson informed him, relieved.

"Yeah, I'm sweet," House decided. "But really, Wilson, did I do good work? I mean, she's…attractive, I guess, right?"

"She's very attractive," Wilson told him honestly. "She's a pretty girl, intelligent, very funny. She's great."

"Yeah, she's a good kid," House said, sounding almost fond of her. "I could have done worse."

"Much worse," Wilson agreed. "Good night."

"Good luck with the Beast." As James walked away, he added under his breath, "You'll need it after she finds out you're thinking about cheating on her again with my 19-year-old daughter." He grinned at the absurdity of the statement. When pigs could fly would Wilson end up with Julia.

Julia sat in her room, the door shut, listening to the beep of her heart monitor. Staring at the blips on the screen was the only thing keeping her from bursting out crying again. She felt so stupid, so foolish. Of course she had known her step-dad would come looking for her. She just hadn't given a damn. Now look where it had landed her. Christ, everybody at the hospital stared at her like she was a leper or something! The nurses didn't say anything when they came to check her vitals or change her bed sheets; they only eyed her suspiciously, trying not to appear obvious. None of her doctors had come in to see how she was doing, but she had seen them before, out of the corner of her eye. Their horror-struck faces and frozen bodies told her enough; they wouldn't be back for a while. And she wasn't counting on seeing that Dr. Wilson again. He was lots of fun, that one, but at least he hadn't seen the whole thing play out. The only person who had been there was, ironically enough, Dr. House, the one person she was more afraid of than Len Peterson, the step-dad from hell.

She wondered what had made House so…different. Julia supposed it was possible that he had a heart. Just because you seem stoic doesn't mean there aren't thousands of emotions running through your bloodstream. But the way he had been after he had seen her lousy excuse for a father…it was amazing. She'd never seen such an amazing turn-around in a person, probably never would again if they didn't diagnose her soon.

Julia tipped her head back on her pillow. Christ, it was hot in there. My fever must be breaking. She ran her hand over her forehead, and the beads of sweat on her hairline were soaked into her skin. Julia decided some cold water would make her feel better. She eyeballed the distance to the bathroom; surely she could make it that 15 feet to the sink.

"Julia?"

She froze. "Yes?" she said slowly, her mind going on red-alert. Was this who she thought it was?

"It's me, Dr. Wilson," he called through the door. "May I come in?"

"Go ahead," she told him, sitting back in her bed. That water would have to wait.

He pushed the door open and smiled. "You look a bit tired," he commented.

"Yeah," she admitted. "I take it you heard about my little adventure this afternoon." Best to get the awkward stuff out of the way. Hopefully he doesn't make me cry.

Wilson was surprised. Julia had gotten straight to the point, no questions, no nothing. It was strange to see a woman that wouldn't beat around the bush and try to sound you out – she was certainly one in a million. "I did," he told her. "How are you doing?"

"Better than I was before," she answered. "I guess I knew it would happen at some point. But the worst is over. The only family member I've got left that might try to get in here to see me is my mom, and she's not a violent drunk like my step-dad."

Jesus, Wilson thought. Maybe she's a little too frank. He began to sweat, wondering what he could say to that.

"But whatever, that's over and done with," Julia continued, her bright voice not matching the fake, cheerful smile on her face. "How has your day been, Dr. Wilson? Anything interesting happen to you?"

"Just you," he answered truthfully. Wilson mentally slapped himself. That was a stupid thing to say.

Julia smiled. "I'm flattered, but certainly that's not the kind of interesting you were hoping for."

"Hospitals get boring. The same things happen everyday, you work with the same stuffy people all the time, and they only come in one color," he said.

"True," Julia said. "That's true. I don't know how you all do it."

"Day by day, hoping we win the lottery so we never have to come back."

Julia laughed. "That's hilarious! You're a funny guy, Dr. Wilson."

"Why, thank-you," he said, truly touched. He usually didn't get a chance to make jokes, and when he did, they weren't very good. Wilson didn't get a whole lot of practice because House was always the one making all the cracks. "They keep offering me a show on Comedy Central but I can't find the time to meet with the producers."

"Don't push it," Julia warned him smartly. "I think you're at your best when you don't know how cute you are." Oh, no. Tell me I didn't just call him cute to his face. She smiled sheepishly, feeling humiliated. "Jesus, I'm sorry. I don't know what it is with me and my stupid, grotesque, over-grown mouth. Let's just blame on the fever, shall we, and move on to other topics?"

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Wilson said easily. "My wife doesn't even call me cute anymore."

"Then she's pretty stupid," Julia said. "But then…I must ask, do you ever tell her you think she's cute?"

"Not much," Wilson admitted. "I nicknamed her 'The Beast' recently. I don't call her it to her face," he said quickly, noting Julia's horrified expression, "but that's what I refer to her as to all my friends. Like, whenever I'm saying good-bye to House or whatever, I'll say, 'The Beast is waiting, I've gotta get going.'"

"Do you really think of her that way?" Julia wanted to know.

"I don't know," Wilson mused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I guess the nickname came first, then she seemed to fit the persona more as I started referring to her with it."

Julia stared at him attentively. "Why did you nickname her that in the first place?"

"At the time, I was just being selfish, I suppose," Wilson said. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was amused that he was discussing matters of the heart with a kid barely out of school, but he chose to keep going. The expression on her face and her questions kept him pondering his situation, a thing he had never truly given much thought to. "A little while after the novelty of the marriage wore off, I guess I turned into a self-obsessed little bastard and didn't really care what she wanted. It was all about me." Wilson didn't feel like elaborating. That's all he needed, Julia thinking he was a jerk after Julie already did.

"That's probably true, to an extent," Julia commented, and her honesty was a strange but welcome veer from the norm. "It takes two, you know, and you're not less than human, as far as most men go. Don't beat yourself up for not being more."

"Well, tell me something," Wilson said. "I've been married three times. After that many failed attempts at…whatever, when you do start blaming yourself?"

"And why are you asking me?" Julia asked kindly. "I'm no expert."

"And you're talking to the Love Doctor?" he joked.

Julia laughed. "Obviously not. But you shouldn't blame yourself. Blame it on God and try to be better. That's what I do, for all kinds of things." She yawned suddenly. "It's getting a bit late for a philosophical discussion. Sometime tomorrow I'll write you a little pamphlet and we can have our therapy session after you get off."

"I think you're the Love Doctor here," Wilson told her. "I like what you've got to say. You're very intellectual, you know, Julia."

"Please, I'm lucky I got through high school," she said, smiling. "Go home. Go kiss your Beast on the cheek and ask her how her day went. Who knows? Maybe she's not as bad as you think."

"I'll try that," Wilson said. He told himself he was only doing it to make her happy. "Goodnight, Julia."

"See you later, Dr. Wilson."

He walked to the door, then paused. "You know what? I'm not technically your doctor. I think maybe you could start calling me James if you wanted to."

Holy shit, thought Julia. "James." He sounds like a pilgrim. But a very cute, very funny pilgrim. I hope I can manage to say it without stammering.

"See you later…James."

You like? Maybe not romance yet…but something like it? Tell me if I've got you in the dark, which is right where you should be:P That's so mean. Anyway, I realize now that I'm not doing a whole lot with her condition, so I'll get on that right away. But I've said it before and I'll say it again: Don't be silent! Let me know what you're thinking! Naturally, I'd love some more reviews, so let me know if I should keep doing what I'm doing, change something, or just stop where I am and kick this story to the curb. Hopefully you're enjoying it! I aim to please, after all. Thanks for reading!

PS. The next chapter is going to be sooooooooooo freaking stupid. I've got this weird idea in my mind, and I think some of you will love it and some of you will never come back here again. But it amused me, so what the hell, I'll try it out and see what you think. So if you like idiocy...you'll enjoy the next chapter. :P That's all I'm gonna say.