Here is the next chapter. The next few chapters may be a little slower than normal. It's November and of course that means NaNoWriMo. I'm doing quite well so far and have been mostly concentrating on my NaNoNovel but don't despair - I like to procrastinate on NaNo by writing fanfic! grins

Chapter 5

House waited until his ducklings were out of sight then slumped heavily on his cane. While the pain from his leg had initially settled down to something near its normal level, every minute he'd spent on his feet since then had caused it to gradually increase. He fumbled the pill bottle out of his pocket then hesitated momentarily before pulling the lid off. He'd waited. He'd done what Wilson wanted and not taken one earlier. But now he needed one and that was what he'd promised. He tipped a pill out into his hand and swallowed it. He jammed the lid back onto the bottle and shoved it back into his pocket before limping back into his office and collapsing into his chair.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping his breathing even while he waited for the Vicodin to kick in. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on the handle of his cane and wondered why the hell he was doing this.

"House?" Wilson's voice sounded concerned and it seemed the answer to his question had arrived.

House didn't move; the Vicodin still hadn't quite taken effect. "I waited," he said, his voice sounding slightly muffled.

Silence greeted this statement then he heard Wilson walk over. The younger man leaned against the desk and gently ran a hand through House's hair.

"I didn't mean to wait this long," he said, both guilt and pride tinging his voice. "I wanted you to cut down, not detox completely."

"Didn't think it was this long," House replied, starting to relax as both the Vicodin and Wilson's petting took effect. He glanced down at his watch and snorted. "Longer than I thought." Then several things he noticed in the past fell into place along with what Wilson had just said and he stiffened and pulled away from the other man's hand, sitting up suddenly. "The bet. That was your idea," he said bluntly, testing whether his theory was correct.

Wilson gave a start and the guilty expression that ran across his face was answer enough.

"Why?" House demanded, feeling anger and betrayal creep up on him.

Wilson ran a hand through his own hair. "Because I wanted you to actually admit to yourself that you were addicted," he said sharply. "And god knows nothing else seemed to be working. I knew you wouldn't take the bet seriously from me, there was nothing I could offer you as bait at that time, but you would if Cuddy offered the time off." He sighed and looked chagrined and guilty. "I didn't think you'd actually break your own hand and to be honest, I nearly called it off then. I didn't think you'd be so damn stubborn."

House got to his feet awkwardly then pushed roughly past Wilson and out the door. Wilson ran a hand down his face and watched his lover limp away. He debated whether or not to follow and try and talk with House but eventually leaned back on the desk and drew in a deep breath. He let it out slowly; there wasn't much point trying to talk to House now. He'd just get sprayed with about six different kinds of vitriol. It would be better to wait until House had had a chance to calm down a bit.

In spite of that thought, he stayed in the office for over fifteen minutes to see if House would return but finally he pushed himself off the desk and made his way rather heavily back to his own office. He'd never intended for House to find out about the origins of that bet in this manner. In fact he wasn't even sure he ever intended for House to find out about it at all. The consequences both for House and the patient he'd been treating at the time had nearly been disastrous. And heaven knows House's team hadn't enjoyed it very much either. The fact that it had worked, at least in part, didn't quite make up for that.

He all but fell down into his chair, looking around with surprise and some hope when the door opened again. The hope faded when Lisa Cuddy walked in and trepidation replaced it when he saw her expression.

"The nurse at the front desk at the clinic just called me. He's just arrived and has apparently already started terrorising the patients," she said abruptly. "While I'm…pleased to see him there without having to drag him kicking and screaming and without him actually being on the roster, I'd prefer it if he was being at least marginally pleasant."

"I'm the last person he wants to see right now," Wilson replied heavily in response to her unspoken question of 'so what are you going to do about this?' "He found out about the bet."

Cuddy closed her eyes for a moment. "What are you going to do? What is he going to do?"

"I don't know," Wilson replied, a little helplessly. "On both counts. I think the best thing I can do is let him work this out for himself. I'm sorry about the patients in the clinic but if I go down there I'm probably only going to make it worse." He gave a weak smile. "Look on the bright side. In this kind of mood, he's likely to clear the waiting room in record time…in one way or another."

Cuddy walked over and sat down. "I thought this…thing between the two of you was working?"

"It is," Wilson insisted, staring at the top of his spotless desk. "But we had a couple of conversations last night and this morning that have got him…I don't know…brooding, I suppose." He paused then looked over at Cuddy. "This morning he asked me if I would have made the same decision Stacy did about his leg."

Cuddy looked startled and a hint of guilt wandered across her face. "I thought he didn't talk about what happened."

"He doesn't usually," Wilson said with a shrug. "Unless it's obliquely like he did with the diagnostics class or occasional references with you or me. I don't know what prompted the question. I can usually figure out what's going on in his head but sometimes he goes beyond even my understanding. Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually have the House decoder ring. I've just known him longer and better than most. If I had to guess, it's got something to do with the other thing we talked about."

"Which was?" Cuddy prompted.

"His addiction," Wilson said bluntly. "I asked him to cut down. He said he'd try."

Cuddy looked surprised and relieved. "He did?"

Wilson nodded. "It's probably partially responsible for his mood right now. He'd actually waited until he genuinely needed one but I think he might have got distracted and waited a bit too long. He'd only just taken a pill and was waiting for it to take effect when I came in. I didn't say much but it was enough for him to put two and two together."

"And you're a terrible liar when you're surprised," Cuddy said with a sympathetic look. "He left you in one piece I see."

"He didn't say much at all," Wilson admitted. "Just asked me why then stormed out after I answered. I didn't expect him to go to the clinic."

Cuddy sighed. "Alright. I'll…talk with the nurses and the other doctors in the clinic and see if we can't limit the fallout." She stood and headed for the door then paused with one hand on the handle. "Normally I'd give a pretty speech about keeping your personal lives out of the hospital but I know that with House that's probably not much of an option. Just…try and sort this out. Please?"

She turned and left and Wilson slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He smoothed it back down and looked around for something to distract himself, eventually deciding that he would do his rounds a little earlier than usual.

When Wilson returned to his office, he was surprised, pleased and just a fraction apprehensive to find House sitting in one of the chairs, reading one of his patient files. He plucked the file out of House's hands with amused exasperation and put it down on the desk with the others he was holding.

"I heard you were in the clinic?" he said mildly.

"Did someone tattle to Mommy?" House replied sardonically. "And she went running to you?"

"I think the nurses were afraid you were going euthanize a few of the patients," Wilson said blandly.

"Then I'm surprised you didn't make an appearance."

Wilson hesitated. "I…didn't think you'd appreciate seeing me for a while."

House tapped his cane against the floor a few times. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I figured I'd done enough damage," Wilson said with a sigh. "You broke your own hand, House. You pissed off the father of your patient so much that he punched you. You actually got Foreman so concerned in his own unique way that he went and wrote out a prescription for you and we both know his opinion of drug addicts."

"I made the decision to take the bet," House said, sounding annoyed. "Nothing that happened afterwards is your fault. You said it yourself. I was stubborn. It was my choice."

"Because I talked Cuddy into goading you enough to take the bet," Wilson replied guiltily.

"It was still my choice," House said. "Now are you coming to lunch or not? Though if you plan on keeping up the guilt thing, you'd better say not."

"Lunch sounds good," Wilson said with relief then he paused. "You're not angry?"

"I was, now I'm not," House said as he got to his feet. "You had your reasons. They sound plausible enough."

"I…see," Wilson said as he joined House. This wasn't quite what he was expecting.

House snorted. "Everybody lies. Why would I expect you to be any different? At least you're lying for half-decent reasons and not stupid ones." He shrugged. "Besides you achieved the result you were after."

"I'm just not sure it was worth it," Wilson said softly.

House paused then pushed Wilson up against the closed door. He plastered himself against the younger man and kissed him. Wilson was still for a moment then, once he'd gotten over his surprise, he returned the kiss. When they broke apart, they were both breathing rapidly and Wilson's hands were resting on House's hips. House brought his free hand up and caressed Wilson's cheek, something that made Wilson look briefly startled then hope flared momentarily.

"It was worth it," House said with blunt honesty. "You're right. I'm addicted. I take too many and not always for good reasons. I made my promise, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," Wilson said through a tight throat. He swallowed hard and wondered if he was about to make a mistake. "You…" he hesitated then plunged on in as close to a matter-of-fact tone as he could manage. "You know I love you, don't you?"

House flinched and looked away and Wilson quickly brought one hand up and turned the older man's head back.

"Don't look away," he demanded, looking into House's troubled eyes. "Talk to me. Did you not want to hear that? Are you not ready to hear it? What?"

House was silent as he looked at Wilson. "Last person who loved me did this to me," he said roughly, gesturing towards his leg.

Now all of a sudden the question House had asked this morning started to make sense to Wilson. Stacy was the last person to tell House that she loved him and was also the last person House had loved. And she'd gone against his wishes, something he'd seen as a betrayal. That she'd done it to save his life was beside the point. She hadn't discussed it with him, she hadn't tried to talk him into it, she hadn't given him any warning, she hadn't even had Cuddy explain the procedure to him. She'd just deliberately waited until he was incapable of arguing or saying no and had it done.

"I would have done the same thing," Wilson replied.

"You would have told me first," House countered.

"Yes," Wilson said simply.

Silence fell between them for a moment though neither man moved.

"Did you tell your wives that too?" House said suddenly and Wilson saw cynicism creeping across his face.

"Yes," he replied openly, knowing which 'that' House was referring to. "And I suppose I meant it in some way. It sounds trite but it's different this time. It feels different." He paused and looked away for a moment then looked straight into House's eyes. "I'm not going to cheat on you. I'm not going to leave you. We're going to get annoyed at each other. We're going to argue and some days we're probably not going to like each other that much. You know that."

House snorted and a hint of amusement crept into his eyes. "Who says I like you now?"

Wilson relaxed a fraction and grinned. "I don't know…last night was pretty convincing."

A smile quirked House's lips. "Mmm, you may be right."

Wilson's grin faded slightly and he gave House a pensive look. House saw the look and was fairly sure he understood it.

"Give me time," he said quietly. "I'm not…uncomfortable with what you said."

Wilson nodded and curled a hand around the back of House's neck, pulling him for a light kiss. "Lunch then?" he said after the kiss ended.

A wry smile pulled at House's lips. "You're paying."

Wilson rolled his eyes as House stepped back. "Don't I always?" he said dryly as he opened the door.

"Unfortunately no," House said as he walked through the door. "Sometimes you're incredibly lax and selfish and make me pay."

"Ah yes, because you're actually poor and struggling to make ends meet," Wilson replied dryly as they headed for the lifts.

"Hey, you're the one on the board," House countered. "I'm merely a Department Head."

"With tenure."

"Ah, yes," House said smugly. "Let's not forget the tenure."

"How could we? You made such a point of it when Vogler was here."

"Pity it didn't impress him," House replied as Wilson pushed the button to summon the lift.

"Not much about you did," Wilson said with a tiny smile.

House pretended to look hurt. "He just couldn't appreciate my many charms."

"Which charms were those?" Wilson said dryly as the lift arrived and they walked in.

House looked scandalised then gave an evil smirk as he waited for the doors to close.

"You seemed to find my charms quite tangible last night," he said archly then smirked again when Wilson blushed slightly.

Wilson swallowed around the sudden heated memory that flared at House's words. "Somehow I can't see you wanting Vogler to appreciate those charms."

House's eyes widened and he affected a shudder. "Now that is a thought that's going to fester. I may need to get it lanced." He leered at Wilson. "Want to help with that, doctor?"

Wilson's breath caught at the images that conjured but his answer was interrupted by the lift doors opening. House limped out with a self-satisfied smirk on his face and Wilson swallowed hard before following.

"You enjoy doing that, don't you?" Wilson said with exasperation, a blush staining his cheeks.

"You're too easy to fluster," House replied with amusement. "Cuddy wouldn't have reacted to that except to slap me down."

"Well, you haven't being doing that with Cuddy," Wilson countered. "She's got nothing to react to."

"Well, that and the fact that by now I doubt there's anything I could say that would shock her," House replied with a flash of a grin as they grabbed sandwiches and drinks.

"I'm sure you could if you tried," Wilson replied in a wry tone. He put down his sandwich and coffee to pay for the lunches then grabbed House's coffee along with his own food.

House shot him a mildly irritated look for the solicitude but didn't protest and they made their way to their normal table outside. They sat down and House stared at the gardens around them intently.

"Leave it," Wilson said warningly, prodding House's left foot with his own foot. "Your ducklings will find you when they get the results of the tests for the Nocardia. Staring at the dirt isn't going to give you any answers."

"One of these days you're going to do that to the wrong foot then there'll be trouble," House said with exasperation. "Besides it can't be in the hospital gardens. We'd be seeing more people with signs of infection, both cutaneous and disseminated."

"I would never hit the wrong foot," Wilson said flatly. "And stop thinking about it. You'll know the answer soon enough."

House looked askance at Wilson. "Me, stop thinking?"

Wilson rolled his eyes and unwrapped his sandwich. "Just eat."

House grumbled for a moment then started in on his lunch. The two men ate in silence then leaned back in their chairs to drink their coffee.

"I heard you were right about your patient having thallium poisoning," Wilson said idly. "How's he responding to the treatment?"

"Actually Foreman was right," House replied. "And since those three idiots who pretend to work for me have been suspiciously absent since this morning, I'm not entirely sure."

"Maybe they heard about your display of temper in the clinic," Wilson suggested, sounding amused. "They could be waiting until you calm down. Neither patient is in danger of dying today so it's not like they have to stick their heads in the lion's mouth."

"I like instilling the proper level of fear and trepidation in them," House replied smugly. "Means they stop pestering me with things they should be doing themselves."

"I'd be interested to know how he managed to get poisoned by thallium," Wilson said. "And how are you treating him?"

"Prussian blue," House said absently. "His girlfriend has no idea how it might have happened so we'll have to wait until he's lucid enough to talk. It's an interesting question. Thallium hasn't been used on a commercial basis in rat poisons since the mid-eighties. It's still used in nuclear medicine but not in the kind of concentrations that could cause poisoning."

Wilson opened his mouth to reply then he paused and frowned. "Prussian blue? Isn't that a dye?"

House looked amused. "Yes. Activated charcoal is an alternate treatment but Prussian blue is more effective. And considering the condition he's in, I thought it the best treatment."

"How did you get your hands on it?" Wilson asked curiously.

"They use it in the lab as a reagent," House replied dismissively.

"Bet your ducklings had to answer all sorts of interesting question when they went down to the lab," Wilson replied with amusement.

"Good," House replied then some very determined movement in their direction caught his eye. He looked over to see Foreman striding towards them and he drained the last of his coffee. "I think Foreman lost the coin toss."

Wilson glanced over and laughed. "He doesn't look too happy about it."

"Foreman never looks happy," House replied. "I think he doesn't like me. I'm terribly hurt by it all."

Wilson smothered a laugh as Foreman came within hearing distance. They both saw the neurologist give House a measuring glance as he walked up to the table.

"The tests came back negative," Foreman said without preamble. "Every part of the gardens we tested showed no signs of the Nocardia bacteria."

House grimaced. "'Bout what I expected. What strain does he have?"

"Nocardia asteroides," Foreman replied.

House was silent as he thought this latest news through. "Go back to the patient. If the infection didn't come from the hospital gardens, it must have come from his home or the home of someone who came to visit him."

"What are we looking for?" Foreman asked.

"Anyone who brought him flowers or a potplant maybe," House said archly. "It's a bacteria that lives in dirt. Take that as your lead."

Foreman nodded then gave House another searching look before he turned and left. House glared at the doctor's retreating back then pulled his bottle of Vicodin out of his pocket. He glanced at it for a moment and could feel Wilson's measuring gaze on him. He hesitated for a moment then shoved the bottle back into his pocket; like this morning, he could wait. Probably not as long as he had earlier but certainly a little while longer.

He looked up to see Wilson giving him a small, relieved smile. His lips quirked in response and he looked back in the direction Foreman had gone.

"Think he knows?" he said idly, gesturing in that direction with his thumb.

"Why would he?" Wilson replied with surprise.

"He saw it this morning," House replied. "When he came in to tell me that the results had arrived for my thallium patient."

Wilson shrugged. "He's hardly likely to disapprove. He might even help if you let him. He doesn't like you but he does respect you."

House grunted and pushed himself to his feet. "Better go and look at these test results," he said as he grabbed his cane. "Who knows what he didn't tell me? Like how my thallium patient is doing."

He limped off into the hospital building and Wilson watched him go rather pensively. He'd started the ball rolling on something here and could only hope it didn't turn into an avalanche.