For lack of anything better to do, House wasted a few hours at the hospital on paperwork and internet surfing, but was back at home by the early evening, watching a soccer game that was doing nothing to distract him. He was supposed to have been spending the weekend with Jess, lying on the sofa together, eating take-out, having sex.

Suddenly his weekend was very different.

Suddenly his life might be very different.

His pager went off and he picked up the phone to call pathology, checking his watch as he did. It wasn't even eight o'clock; must be a slow day in there. He made a mental note to complain to Cuddy about pathology being over-staffed.

"This is House. I just got a page for results for Laura Spencer."

"Uh, okay, just sec…"

He tapped his finger on the phone as he heard papers shuffle around at the other end.

"Pregnancy: positive. Hematocrit was a little low, otherwise everything else checks out."

"Good." He hung up without saying goodbye. Of course he hadn't just ordered a pregnancy test. It was the perfect opportunity to do some investigating of his own and he hadn't missed the chance. Just to be sure she was healthy.

He dialled Jess.

"Hi." She sounded tired. Not upset, not joyful, just tired.

"The rabbit died," he said, trying to sound jovial. Of course it was a ridiculous thing to say; no matter what the result, the rabbit had always died.

"Uh-huh. Well, I figured that would happen."

"Yeah, me too." He paused. "You need to take a vitamin supplement, one with some iron."

"What? Why?"

"You're anaemic."

"Oh." She didn't sound surprised. "Guess that's what a life of take-out and skipping lunch gets you."

"Yep, that'll do it." House was possessed with a need to lecture her, to tell her to eat right, to get enough sleep, stop working those long hours. For once he was able to put the mental brakes on before his mouth got him into trouble.

"Want to have breakfast tomorrow?" she asked him quietly.

"Sure." Was she asking in the sense of sleeping together tonight or in the sense of actually having breakfast tomorrow? "Your place or mine?" he asked to clarify.

"Let's go out."

Just breakfast, then. "Okay. Cafe on the corner down from me? The one with the good blueberry pancakes? Ten?"

"See you then."

--

Wilson was bored. He'd been at the hospital for most of Saturday with a patient who'd turned out to have been sneaking vodka into the hospital. It had been causing all kinds of weird symptoms and Wilson had been about to call in House for a consult until a nurse uncovered the bottle hidden in a drawer. It was now evening and the night stretched emptily ahead. He hadn't had dinner and he was feeling cooped up and lonely. It had taken him a while to recognise the signs, but he knew now that if he didn't do something to shake himself out of this, he'd sink into a depression and starting thinking about Amber and end up feeling even worse.

He called House. He knew that House would be with Jess, he always was these days, but the pair of them had been patient enough to let him play the third wheel on occasion and he hoped tonight might be the same. As far as Wilson knew, he was the only one at the hospital who knew about Jess, and he felt kind of privileged about that.

When he called he was surprised to find out that Jess wasn't there. House was watching sport and had just ordered a pizza, so Wilson's timing couldn't have been better. In fact, he ended up arriving at the same time as the delivery guy.

House opened the door to their two faces.

"Great, you can pay." He turned back to the sofa.

Wilson was too pleased about being out of his hotel room and finding his friend alone that he didn't care and gave the guy a generous tip.

"Where's Jess?" Wilson asked as they tucked into pizza.

"Home. Having time to herself," House said around a mouthful.

Wilson picked up on the vague tone, but didn't press. If they'd had an argument, well, he wasn't really sure that he wanted to know.

House grabbed more beers from the fridge and surfed the TV for a while until they found a repeat of Something About Mary and settled in. The only words they exchanged were requests for beers and comments about the movie, both laughing loudly at the same scenes.

It wasn't until Wilson went to the bathroom after his third beer that he discovered what must have been the true reason behind Jess's absence. He stared at the plastic sticks on the sink for a long while. One had faded and the result was impossible to tell, but the other was obviously, blaringly positive. He wondered how it would be possible to forget about something like this sitting in your bathroom, but then his friend's attention to housekeeping had never been sharp.

Wilson wondered what to do, given that House hadn't said anything. He knew as soon as House came into the bathroom he'd see them and know that Wilson had seen them too. There was no avoiding it.

"So…it's probably not all that hygienic to leave urine-soaked pregnancy tests on your bathroom sink," Wilson said, returning to the living room. He'd decided that a joking approach would leave House with a few options – he could make a joke in return to let Wilson know the subject was off-limits or he could open up the conversation.

"I must say something to the maid," House muttered.

Right, so not up for discussion then. Wilson sat back down on the sofa and collected his beer.

It was about ten minutes before House picked up the remote and muted the volume.

"It was positive," House said, his eyes still on the now silent TV. "Blood tests too."

Wilson nodded, not wanting to say anything until he found out the lay of the land.

"I…I think I want this," House said, the hesitation in his tone evident.

Wilson tried hard not to let the surprise show, but he was nowhere near as good at poker face as House was, and it was obvious that his emotions were clearly readable.

House snorted at him. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking. What a crappy dad I would be, how I'm too selfish to even pay for pizza for my best friend, how I'm probably not going to last that long anyway…"

"No, House that's not what I was thinking." Wilson felt he had to interrupt. "I was just surprised. It's not something you've ever…I mean, I've never heard you—"

"I know, I know," House said with a heavy sigh. "And it's kind of late to change my mind. But Jess…" He broke off and took a long swig of beer. "Jess is different," he said eventually. "I can imagine it with her. I can see it. I want to watch her get fat, I want to be there when it's born. I want…" Wilson could see that the words were hard for House to say. "…I want to hold it."

"It?" Wilson pushed.

"The baby."

"Not a foetus?"

House screwed up his nose at Wilson and Wilson knew House understood exactly what he was doing.

"Technically it's an embryo right now," House bit back. "But it will be a baby, eventually. At least…" He slumped back in the sofa cushions.

"Jess? How is she handling all this?"

"I have no idea. She's being very vague."

"I guess that's understandable."

"Yeah. We're meeting for breakfast tomorrow. To talk," he added unnecessarily.

"Are you going to tell her all this?"

"I don't know. I guess I need to find out how she feels first. I mean ultimately she makes the decision…"

"Yeah, but knowing how you feel might help her make up her mind."

"I don't want to push her into something she doesn't want."

"Knowing Jess, I don't think that's likely," Wilson said. "You sound like you're pretty clear on what you want, House."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I am." He nodded slowly, seeming amazed by his own admission.

"So let her know."

House shrugged. Wilson felt a desperate urge to be there at breakfast, to act as the mediator, to make sure no misunderstandings could take place. But he knew he couldn't do that, this was a situation House had to handle by himself.

"Let me know how it goes. I need to know whether to stock up on cigars," Wilson joked lamely.

"Will do." House grabbed the remote and the room was suddenly filled with the sound of a drug-crazed dog chasing Ben Stiller around a living room. It effectively halted any further conversation on the topic.