16.

Wilson stepped off the elevator and headed for Cuddy's office. House had never actually made him promise not to talk to Cuddy about the situation, and so he actually thought he was doing well by waiting a whole day to track her down. Reaching the first set of doors, he moved through them and headed for the second.

"Excuse me?" a voice greeted him. He stopped in his tracks and looked over at the assistant's desk, which usually stood empty but today was occupied by an older black woman peering sternly at him over the top of her glasses. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Ah... I was just going to see if she had a minute." He gestured hesitantly towards the inner office. The stare was unnerving. "I'm Dr Wilson?" he tried, chancing a glance into the office beyond through the glass panelled doors to see if he could get Cuddy's attention. And help.

He looked back to see the woman holding up a finger at him warningly. "Just wait there a moment, please. Dr Cuddy is a busy woman - she doesn't need people bursting in on her all the time." With her other hand she reached for the phone. "Dr Cuddy? There's a Dr Wilson out here to see you."

He looked back through the doors and this time Cuddy was looking up at him, waving him in.

"Dr Cuddy will see you," the same dubious tone followed him as he went in.

"New assistant?" he said once the door was closed firmly behind him.

"Yes, that's Marla, she just started today."

"She seems..." he searched for something diplomatic and finally settled on, "scary."

"She's great, isn't she? I've been hiring all these young go-getters and yes, if you want to get into the psychology, it's probably because they remind me of myself at that age, but as it turns out, they're not terribly reliable. They're out of here the first time they see blood, or have to deal with the parents of a child who's just died... Or House."

"Wimps."

"Exactly." She grinned. "I needed someone with a little more staying power."

"She seems like a good choice, then."

"I hope so. Now...?" she looked at him expectantly.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to get some lunch."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. "Do I want to know where your usual lunch date is?"

Wilson shrugged. "I just thought we could talk."

"About?"

"The... weather?"

"Oh, very convincing."

He smiled unabashedly - she knew exactly what he wanted to talk about, and he knew she knew. There was little point in pretending. "You have to eat sometime."

She rolled her eyes. "All right," she said, getting to her feet. "Let's get this over with."

"So how are you?" he asked once they were seated in the cafeteria.

"Looking forward to eating normal food again," she replied, looking down at her tray which held a salad and a jello cup. Neither of which she seemed to find particularly appetising.

"About twelve weeks now, right?"

She nodded, taking a casual look around. They were seated close enough that they could keep their voices low and no one at the surrounding tables would hear. "I've been meaning to talk to you, actually," she said. "I'm counting on your support over the next few weeks - I'll be informing the board of my condition, and while I don't expect any overt problems..."

She didn't need to elaborate. The hospital was like any other large business or organisation, there were always political manoeuvrings going on in the upper ranks. He knew she was worried about those who might use the situation to their own advantage - and she was right to do so. It didn't really matter that she was well-regarded, or that she was good at her job. Her position was a prestigious one, and that meant she was a target.

"Of course," he replied. "Just tell me how I can help."

"The problem isn't - I mean I'm fairly well-versed in our current guidelines, seeing as how I helped write them, and I can't be fired for being pregnant, of course. The problem is how this is going to be perceived, especially once it comes out about House." She shrugged helplessly, her expression chagrined.

It was a familiar response when the topic was House.

Wilson considered Cuddy a friend, and knew she returned the sentiment, but more than anything else the factor that brought them together time and again was House. It was why he'd sought her out and asked her to lunch, after all. He was glad she'd introduced the subject - now he didn't have to.

"So what's our cover story?" he said in a conspiratorial tone he knew she would appreciate.

She gave him an amused look. "Well as far as I'm concerned it isn't anyone's business - it shouldn't be, anyway. But since that will never fly, I'm planning on telling anyone that asks the truth - a novel idea, I know." She shrugged. "But I'll just tell the truth, that he's the father, but that we're not together."

The way she worded her answer gave him pause. "Did you break up with him just so you could say that and have it be the truth?" He gave voice to the thought without really considering whether it was wise. From the look on her face, it wasn't.

Her tone was equally steely. "Wow. I'm going to assume there's a reason you have the nerve to ask me something like that."

"I... apologise. That was out of line."

"Yes it was. What's going on, James? Did House send you to talk to me?"

"He warned me off coming, actually. Though knowing him, he probably suspected I wasn't going to listen."

She leaned towards him then, elbows resting on the table. "Listen, I don't know what he told you about what happened but I didn't 'break up' with him, it's not like we were dating."

"Really? I got the impression -"

"What?"

"I don't know - he's impossible, you know that. I just got the impression there was more going on. Maybe."

"You're not seriously going to try to tell me he's heartbroken, are you?"

"Come on," he said. "You know him. You know how he is with women."

"Yes I do, but I'm not Stacy. This is an entirely different situation."

"That doesn't mean it's not affecting him. All of this."

"Well if he's going through anything like what I am, then I sympathise. But I can't be worrying about House's mental state at the moment. I'm trying to get my own life under control. I know, that sounds selfish..." She looked away, her tone and face tight now with guilt, and it was this that made him back down.

He got protective sometimes - over-protective, perhaps. He'd seen his friend get hurt before. But Cuddy cared about House too, he knew that. Hounding her about the situation wasn't going to help matters - and that was really more of a House thing to do, anyway.

"Well you are actually allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know," he pointed out gently.

"Am I?"

"Especially now."

She scoffed a little and spoke wryly. "I'll try to remember that. Anyway, it's not like House hasn't got you looking out for him. Rather enthusiastically, I might add."

"I just don't think he's even begun to deal with any of this."

"No, he hasn't. I haven't really either, that's what I'm trying to do. It's why I had to step back." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I'm doing my best, here James."

"I didn't mean to imply that you weren't. I just think we need to be prepared. Knowing House, he's probably going to..." He waved a hand vaguely, and she filled in the rest.

"Act out in some extremely inappropriate, self-destructive way?"

"That would be my guess, yes."

She sighed. "You'll keep an eye on him?"

He matched her sigh with one of his own, because didn't he always? He was about to say something to that effect when he spotted someone across the room. Someone he did not want to see right now. "Oh no." He hunched down in his chair a little, in the vain hope that they wouldn't be noticed. "Damn it, we've been made."

Cuddy turned to look, rolling her eyes as she saw House making his way towards them.

"So there I was," he said once he was standing over them, "upstairs in my office, working diligently as always, minding my own business, when I had the strangest feeling - kind of like my ears were burning. Weird, huh?"

"I think they make a cream for that," Cuddy said, looking defiant as House dragged an unoccupied chair away from a nearby table of med students who may or may not have been using it - none of them dared protest.

He pulled it up and sat, focusing on Wilson. "Whatever she's been telling you, I swear I was only using her for sex. She means nothing to me. You and me, Wilson, we're the real thing."

"Oh, gay jokes." He sighed. "Perfect."

"You know you're the only girl for me."

"Aren't you the lucky one," Cuddy drawled.

Both of them were addressing him, and pointedly ignoring each other. Wilson suddenly found himself looking back and forth between them like he was watching a tennis match. It would have been amusing if he wasn't playing the part of the ball.

"Fag-hag's a good look for her, don't you think?" House tossed his head in Cuddy's direction.

Cuddy raised an eyebrow, casually toying with her salad fork. "If you ask me someone's feeling a little bitter."

"She's got the desperation down already. Goes with the wardrobe. Watch she doesn't scratch your eyes out, though - she looks like the jealous type."

"Yes, I don't know what I was thinking, letting that one get away. What a catch."

Wilson held up his hands. "Okay, stop. The two of you are making me very uncomfortable."

They stopped. It had to be some kind of miracle, Wilson thought, watching as their eyes finally ventured to meet across the table. They sized each other up for a moment, before House's eyes dropped.

"Going to eat that?"

She followed his gaze down to her jello, which she immediately picked up along with a spoon. "Yes," she replied firmly.

House just shrugged, and reached over to pull Wilson's plate of fries towards himself instead.

Wilson sighed as they both began to eat without another word. It was an improvement of sorts - at least if they couldn't be civil, they were being quiet.

It was weird, seeing them together like this. There'd always been some kind of tension there, what with the two of them at odds more often than not, and Wilson had often gotten the impression there might be more to it. Now it was as if what had previously only been hinted at was suddenly all right out in the open for anyone to see. It was, well, it was weird, he decided.

He took in his companions once more - Cuddy with her jello, House devouring his appropriated fries, and the tension, like a fourth presence at the table, hovering there between them.

"So..." Wilson said into the lengthening silence. "How about that weather?"