067. Snow

Cold Moves

"Dr Wilson?"

Wilson looked up from the paperwork he'd been deep into and saw a rather worried Cameron standing in the doorway.

"Dr Wilson, it's House," she said in a rush before he could say anything.

Wilson sighed and put his pen down. "What's he done now?"

"Um, nothing really," Cameron replied, shifting from foot to foot. She continued in a rush. "I…he told us not to bother him but…he's sitting out on the balcony and it's snowing."

Wilson blinked as he sorted through that then he stood in a hurry. "He's what?"

He didn't wait for Cameron to respond but looked out the glass door to the balcony he shared with House. Sure enough, the man was sitting outside in the snow in nothing more than jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket.

"Dammit," Wilson muttered under his breath before turning to face Cameron. "What's happened?"

Cameron's eyes dropped to the floor and she sighed. "Our patient's dying. We can't figure what's wrong. He's got maybe two or three hours."

Wilson scrubbed his face with one hand. "Get a blanket and leave it in House's office then get Foreman and Chase out of there."

Cameron hesitated for a moment then nodded and left. Wilson grabbed his heavy coat and headed for House's office. He paused at the balcony door and pulled his coat on before going outside. He walked out and stood next to the chair House was slumped in, staring out over the view.

"Are you completely insane?" he said conversationally.

"Depends who you ask," came the growled reply.

"Why are you sitting out here?" Wilson demanded.

"Because I needed to think and those three were prattling on like the pack of idiots they are," House replied, still in that irritated growl.

"House! It's freezing out here and it's snowing," Wilson yelped.

"I noticed," House said dismissively.

Wilson moved so that was crouching in front of House with one hand resting lightly on House's left knee. House's gaze shifted away then slowly returned and Wilson could see the frustration and the despair in them.

"Patients die," he said softly. "Isn't that what you always tell me?"

"Not mine," House said stubbornly.

Wilson snorted. "Even yours. House…freezing your arse off out here and getting pneumonia isn't going to help anyone, let alone your patient. Come inside."

House gaze slipped away again and he was silent for long enough for Wilson to start feeling the cold through his coat.

"Not sure if I can stand," House finally said, very reluctantly.

"I'll help you," Wilson replied calmly.

He got to his feet and held out both hands to House. The older man hesitated before taking them then Wilson braced himself and pulled. House winced and grunted as he got to his feet then he wavered until Wilson stepped forward and caught him around the waist. House shuddered as the warmth of Wilson's body penetrated the cold that seemed to have taken over his own and he wrapped his arms around Wilson, pulling him close, and buried his face in his hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. Wilson stiffened slightly in surprise then he carefully embraced House, gently rubbing his back with one hand.

After a long moment, House slid one hand up and cupped Wilson's cheek. Wilson looked up at him and House slowly lowered his head until his lips were hovering just over Wilson's, the fog from their breathing mixing between them.

"James," House breathed in a voice that could barely be heard.

"Yes," Wilson replied, knowing House would hear both the affirmation and the permission.

House closed the tiny gap between them. The kiss was soft and almost chaste, his lips cold and chapped against Wilson's warm and soft. When it ended, they both sighed, almost inaudibly, unnoticeable except for the fog that emerged.

"Come inside," Wilson said softly. "You're freezing. You need to warm up."

House smiled. "Yes."