He walked Cuddy and the girls to the car, and helped strap the girls in their seats. He fumbled with Adira's buckles, to the point she finally told him she could do it herself. He leaned across Adira in order to kiss Alexa's cheek, then tapped Adira's nose. She reached up to grab his and giggled, holding her thumb between her fingers to represent stealing his nose. It was a trick House often played with the girls, until they hurt from laughing so much.

Wilson smiled and kissed Adira's cheek. "You girls behave for Mommy tonight," he whispered, voice strained with the emotion he knew he had to keep down. He could get through this. He'd see Cuddy and the girls off and then go back to the hospital. Maybe slip into his office for a few minutes alone before he went back to House's room.

"We will, DJ," the girls assured him in unison. Their voices pulled him back to the present. He smiled a smile he didn't feel and straightened to close the door. Both girls waved to him. He raised a hand to wave back.

Cuddy walked around the car and stood by the trunk. He glanced at her quickly, and averted his eyes. She stepped closer and put a hand up to his shoulder. "You call me, anytime, if you need anything." Wilson nodded. He didn't trust his voice to speak. Cuddy squeezed his arm and rose up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He stood unmoving, as if unaffected when the opposite was true. He was afraid to give in to the emotion, afraid that once he started he wouldn't be able to stop. "It's going to be all right," Cuddy whispered softly. She started to draw away from him, her fingers lingering on his arm. He turned his hand to catch her fingers against his, and suddenly pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms around her, bent his face to the crook of her neck. She brought her arms up to his shoulders, holding him close. "Shhh. Shhh," she cooed, fingers drifting over the back of his neck.

After a moment, he stiffened, and stepped back. He rubbed a hand over his face. "I need..." he turned his gaze toward the hospital.

Cuddy nodded. "Give him our love."

He sucked his breath in, attempting to be brave. He didn't speak, but nodded his head toward the car. Cuddy kissed his cheek again, before walking back around to the driver's side of the car. "You call me if you need me, James."

He turned away, head bent, hands in his pockets. He didn't want to watch her drive away, taking the girls with her.

i She had asked them to join her for dinner at the new seafood and steakhouse on the water. It turned out to be far more elegant and expensive than they'd considered, and House wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion. He'd buttoned his dress shirt, and his jacket hid most of the wrinkles. Wilson smiled apologetically at Cuddy, it was the best he could do. House didn't get dressed up for dinner, or much of anything at all.

They'd only just made their commitment official, and the nagging thought that tugged at Wilson's mind as House tugged at his collar, was that she was going to ask them to be more discrete at work. They'd been meeting for lunch for years (mostly so House could steal half Wilson's food without buying his own), and it wasn't uncommon for Wilson to consult on House's cases. Wilson didn't think their behavior had changed at work, but it would only take one person complaining to make Cuddy feel she had to take action. She was the administrator, and she had a hospital to run.

The dinner dishes were cleared off the table, and Cuddy leaned in to create a sense of confidentiality. House leaned back, tugging childishly at his collar. Wilson nudged him under the table, but otherwise ignored his antics. "You both know I've been looking for a sperm donor for my child," Cuddy stated, oblivious or not, about what was going on under the table.

"You need to look at people, not a file," House said with something that sounded like a reprimand touching his voice.

"That's what I'm doing." Cuddy's eyes shifted between the two men. "I asked the two of you here tonight because I wanted to ask James to be the father of my children."

Wilson blinked back his shock. House laughed. "You...you..." he sputtered. Cuddy nodded. "You want Wilson to...to...to..."

"Yes."

"I'm crushed you didn't ask me," House brought a hand up to his heart. Cuddy reached across the table to clasp her hand on his arm. Even if he was serious she didn't feel the need to remind him his sperm had been drowning in drugs and alcohol for far too many years. He was a legend for more than his brilliance back at Michigan State.

"I'll let you two talk it over." Cuddy stood, excusing herself from the table. House looked at Wilson, as Wilson watched Cuddy walk to the restroom. As soon as she was out of sight, House nudged Wilson under the table. "Hey. You okay?"

Wilson nodded. "Just...wow."

"Yeah. You gonna do it?"

Wilson worried on his bottom lip for a moment. "I don't know."

"Why wouldn't you? It's your last chance to have a kid. I'm sure as hell not going to give you one."

Wilson's mouth twitched into a grin. "What? Afraid to ruin your girlish figure?"

"You know it.," House answered with a laugh.

Wilson straightened and shifted in his seat. He discretely took hold of House's hand. "You really think I should do it? House, a baby is a big thing."

House turned his hand over, so that they were palm to palm. "Do you want to do it?" He let his fingers drift over Wilson's palm.

"I don't know." Wilson rubbed his other hand over his face, pulling at his chin. "After Sarah, I never even thought about having kids."

"Technically, Cuddy's having the kid. You just have to..." House used his other hand to make a suggestive gesture.

Wilson arched a brow. "You want me to do it," he stated. He didn't understand it, but he got the message.

"I want to know that after you're gone, there might still be a part of you here."

Wilson looked down at their hands, and covered House's hand with his other hand. House wasn't usually romantic. He was harsh and abrasive. But there were moments, like this moment, that completely disarmed Wilson. He nodded and lifted his gaze to meet House's eyes. /i

Those words echoed in his mind. "I want to know that after you're gone, there might still be a part of you here." That thought pushed Wilson forward, almost running the rest of the way to the hospital. He stopped and smoothed down the front of his shirt before walking inside.

Several people greeted Wilson with an air of concern. Wilson did his best to smile and continued toward the elevators. Alone in the car, he struggled to keep his composure, focused on just getting to his office. He turned the other way, heading to House's office instead. The lights were off, shrouding Diagnostics in shadow. He didn't flip the switch, but navigated his way to House's desk in the dark.

"I want to know that after you're gone, there might still be a part of you here." Wilson picked up the Lacrosse ball from House's desk. He rubbed it between his hands, rolled it under his nose to take in the lingering scent of House. He pressed it against his forehead before replacing it on the desk.

Turning the chair, he activated House's iPod, filling the office with the unmistakable wail of Mick Jagger's voice. He smiled in spite of himself and picked up the pestle and mortar from the shelf behind the desk. House had finally admitted to Wilson that he had used the pestle to crush his fingers during the week he had been off the Vicodin as part of a bet with Cuddy. Wilson had in turn admitted to being the mastermind behind the bet, and he thought he would never forget the anticipation he'd felt, fearing House would reject him. But House had suspected all along, and in the end the confession had been a relief for them both.

Wilson lay his right hand flat on House's desk, and caressed the tops of his fingers with the pestle. He tried to imagine just how desperate House must have been in that moment, desperate to distract himself from the pain, desperate enough to effectively gnaw his own leg off. With a growl, Wilson lurched his arm back and swung forward, instantly crushing the fingers of his right hand.