062. Spring

(This prompt ficlet follows on from Christmas, Food and Winter.)

New Growth

House was gathering startled looks. This was nothing particularly new since he gathered startled looks all the time but this time they weren't for the usual reason. House normally gathered startled looks because he was being provocative or controversial or outrageous. But now he was gathering them because he was being…happy, relatively speaking. He was being reasonably polite. He was generally being a vaguely decent human being and no one could quite understand why.

Wilson knew why, of course. Mostly because he was responsible for it. In the two weeks since Christmas, since he and House had become lovers, he'd seen the changes in House. He was fairly sure they wouldn't last since he suspected at least part of the new behaviour was House enjoying himself at everyone else's expense but he was finding it amusing nonetheless. He had a number of questions directed at him about House's behaviour by various people but he'd chosen to evade them with bland looks and slight misdirections. He had no idea if House wanted their relationship to be public knowledge and for that matter he wasn't sure if he wanted their relationship to be public knowledge either.

He leaned against the bench in the Diagnostic Medicine conference room and took a sip from his coffee cup to hide the smile as he watched House's team watch their boss with slightly baffled looks. House had been going for broke with his team, enough to convince Wilson that he was in fact messing with people, and the three young doctors were starting to get that deer-in-the-headlights look a little bit too often.

"House, you're frightening the children," he said blandly though a smile flitted around the edges of his mouth.

He got slightly indignant looks from Chase, Cameron and Foreman but he ignored those in favour of the mischievous expression that washed over House's face.

"Anyone would think it's a crime to be happy," House complained amiably.

Wilson looked contemplative. "Well, perhaps not a crime but you're certainly freaking people out quite successfully."

House actually grinned at that. "Fun, isn't it?"

"Ah, yes, I rather thought that was why you were doing it," Wilson said mildly.

House sobered slightly and he shrugged. "It's one reason. Can't always let people know all of the reasons."

"True," Wilson conceded. "Sometimes reasons need to be thought through to determine if it's the best idea for all concerned."

"But in the meantime I can have some fun, can't I?" House asked brightly.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Sure," he said with an air of amused resignation.

House's team had been watching them with a great deal of confusion though as House got their latest round of wheel of diagnostics going again, Wilson could see the dawning suspicion in Cameron's eyes and he wondered how long it would be until she either figured it out or confronted one or both of them.

In fairly short order, House sent his team scattering out of the room to carry out a plethora of tests and the two of them retreated into House's office.

"I think Cameron suspects," Wilson said as he sat down.

"Why doesn't that surprise me," House said sourly as he picked up the ball on his desk and started tossing it in the air. "Don't you have dying, bald kids to weep over?"

"Ah, now this is more what people expect of you," Wilson said dryly.

House tossed the ball up and caught it a couple more times before answering.

"I have a sneaking suspicion I know what you're hanging around here for," he replied flatly. "Somehow that just sucks all the amusement out of the day."

Wilson sighed and put his coffee cup down on the desk. "They're going to be home in a couple of days and your Mom really wants to fix this."

"Some things can't be fixed," House replied bluntly.

"And some things can," Wilson said firmly. "They were words said in the heat of the moment, Greg, and you were goading him. Are you really sure you want this? To never speak to your Dad again? To make your Mom completely miserable? Because she's blaming herself for this."

House scowled at him. "Do they teach classes on the many uses of guilt at shul? Because you sure as hell aced that class."

"I got nice diploma for it and everything," Wilson said blandly. "Actually everything I know I learnt from my mother."

That got a small smile from House then he shrugged.

"Fine. Whatever," he said sullenly.

Wilson sighed. He had at least got some agreement out of House; not willingly but he'd gotten it. It would do for now. He got to his feet and grabbed his coffee cup again.

"I'd better go and weep over my dying, bald kids," he said. "Try not to frighten your ducklings too much."

House gave him a far more genuine smile. "But it's fun," he mock-whined.

"Well, don't come complaining to me when it all blows up in your face," Wilson replied with amusement as he headed for the door.

"Who else am I going to complain to?" House said with cheerful scorn.

Wilson paused in the door. "Hmm, true. Oh well, I am used to it."

He gave House a quick grin then headed off for his own office.

086. Choices

The Dinner from Hell

House sat sullenly in his chair at the restaurant table and scowled around the room. Wilson sighed and gave him a flat look.

"Can you at least try not to be actively hostile?" he said irritably.

House shifted that scowl to him for a moment and he scowled right back. It had taken nearly two weeks to beat both Greg and John House into submission and get them to agree to actually sit in the same room and talk. A restaurant had eventually been chosen because it at least gave them a fighting chance that neither man would completely explode in such a public setting. It also almost guaranteed that Greg wouldn't drink too much. Since the infarction, he kept his drinking strictly to his own home for reasons Wilson was fairly sure he'd worked out but hadn't actually confirmed.

House dropped the scowl and clearly decided to settle for sullen and Wilson sighed again. It had been a battle to get House here tonight. He'd tried to find nearly every excuse under the sun to back out and Wilson had only been able to pry House out of the hospital with the connivance of both Cameron and Cuddy, though neither woman was aware of precisely what this dinner was about.

He looked over as the door to the restaurant opened and John and Blythe walked in. He firmly ignored the sudden muttering that came from House's direction and raised a hand to draw their attention. He winced inwardly as he saw the drawn, worried look on Blythe's face and winced inwardly again at the set, blank look on John's face.

The older couple walked over and Blythe smiled at them both.

"Greg, James, it's lovely to see you," she said as she walked around and kissed both of them on the cheek.

"Thank you, Blythe," Wilson said then he looked over at John.

"James. Greg," John House said flatly.

"Please sit down," Wilson said as House firmly ignored his father.

A waiter came over after John and Blythe sat down and handed the menus around and took their drink orders. Wilson and Blythe made almost desperate small talk until their drinks were delivered and their food orders were taken then Blythe turned to her husband the moment the waiter was out of earshot.

"John!" she snapped and both House and Wilson gave her slightly startled looks while John actually did wince.

The older man's expression became rather chagrined as he looked over at his son.

"Greg, I…" He sighed deeply. "I'm not disappointed in you. I never have been. You're a fine man and a fine doctor. A man would a fool not to be proud of you and I'd like to think I'm not a fool."

House actually looked a little startled at that then he nodded awkwardly. "Thanks," he muttered then his face hardened. "But you don't like that I sleep with men…with James."

John looked uncomfortable. "I…no, not really."

House's head reared back slightly. "Then you have a problem," he said frostily. "James…in my life is non-negotiable. At least until I piss him off enough and he leaves."

Wilson snorted; feeling unaccountably warmed by House's declaration. It was probably the closest he was going to get to declaration of love from the man. "After all this time, that's hardly likely."

John grimaced and took a long drink from his beer. "Give me a break, Greg," he said almost irritably. "It was the way I was raised and the way things worked in the military. I can't just…throw that away in one go."

"But you don't intend to try," House said mulishly.

"I didn't say that," John snapped and Wilson had a sudden vision of what dinner around the House table must have been like at times.

"Greg, give your father time…please," Blythe begged, placing one hand over one of House's and gripping it tightly. She seemed to be almost willing him to agree.

Wilson leaned over and murmured into House's ear, "Greg, he's apologised and is willing to try and change. You could be a little more gracious." He paused then lowered his voice a little further. "I'll make it worth your while."

House's gaze flickered over to Wilson and a small smile flickered across his face.

"Bribery?" he said with muted amusement.

"It usually works so well," Wilson replied with a smile.

"True," House replied then he looked over at his father and nodded.

Blythe had watched this interaction between the two of them with an indulgent smile and John had alternately watched his wife and his son and Wilson with a thoughtful, if slightly awkward, expression.

"I'll…try," John said uncomfortably.

Wilson nudged House's foot under the table and got a quick glare for his trouble. At the same time Blythe squeezed Greg's hand and gave him an imploring look.

"Greg…" she said quietly.

House shot them both exasperated looks then rolled his eyes.

"Okay," he said brusquely to his Dad.

John seemed to take this in the spirit it was meant rather than going by the tone because he nodded in return and relaxed a bit in his chair. Both Blythe and Wilson gave sighs of relief and Blythe gave Greg's hand another squeeze before letting go.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the four then the waiter arrived with their meals and Wilson asked Blythe about their trip. That seemed to thaw most of the remaining ice and the rest of the meal was spent discussing not just Blythe and John's recent trip but other places they had been. Nevertheless when the meal finally came to an end there was a certain amount of relief on both sides that it was over.

"That…went better than I thought it would," Wilson observed as they walked back to his car.

House snorted. "You're optimistic."

Wilson shot him a look. "You don't think your Dad is actually going to try?"

"I'd be surprised," House said flatly.

"I think you underestimate your Mom," Wilson replied with a smile. "How many times did she snap your name like that when you were a kid?"

That brought a smile to House's face. "Quite a few," he admitted.

"Did it work on you?" Wilson asked with a grin.

"Mostly," House replied.

"Give your Dad a chance," Wilson said quietly. "He's ex-military and he's old."

They'd reached his car by this stage and House was silent as they got in. Wilson was just about to start the car when House placed a hand on his thigh.

"I meant what I said about us. Given a choice between you and my Dad, I'm picking you," he said with a mix of intensity and discomfort. "And you know I'm possessive."

Wilson smiled warmly at him. "Well, I don't think it's going to come to that given what happened tonight. And I meant what I said; if you haven't scared me off by now, I can't see it happening in the future."

House stared at him for a moment longer then settled back in his seat with a satisfied expression, leaving his hand where it was. Wilson started the car and pulled out into the traffic; the choice between himself and his father was one he devoutly hoped House would never have to make.