A/N: Hikari of the Moon has been asking me to have House tell Wilson he loves him. The three words, not just allusions and such.

7.8—"Wilson's Secret"

"Monica, it's getting late," Wilson sighed, rubbing his temples. "You should go. You don't need to sit here and watch me do my paperwork."

"James, let me help you with some of that," the pretty young doctor insisted, smiling. "That's why I'm here."

"You don't have to," Wilson said. "I've only got an hour or so more. It's nearly ten. There's no reason for you to stay."

"There's no reason for you to stay, either," Monica pointed out. "We both know this can wait until tomorrow."

Wilson looked longingly at his pile of paperwork as he contemplated. Then he sighed. "No. I can't."

"Then at least take a break for a minute," she suggested. She took his hand and helped him up from his chair. "Come on," she said, leading him to his couch. "Relax."

He sat down on his couch and sighed, putting his head in his hands. "Just five minutes. Then I'm finishing my paperwork."

Monica sat down beside him and shook her head. "You're working too hard, James." She put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed.

"Hmm," he murmured.

"You need to relax," Monica smiled, proceeding to massage his shoulders and neck.

"This is a bad idea," Wilson whispered, but he offered no other complaint.

"Shh," Monica breathed into his ear. "Relax."

Wilson rolled his shoulders into her massage. "Hmm, I should get back to work..."

"Is that really what you want?" Monica whispered against his neck. Then she pressed her lips to his skin.

"Mmm...no," Wilson admitted.

She pulled back a little bit and he turned to look at her. She was so beautiful. A long strand of soft black hair fell across her face. Wilson brushed it behind her ear, and she leaned into his touch. She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand.

His other hand was on her bare knee—he wasn't entirely sure how it got there. He squeezed gently and used his other hand to stroke her hair. She leaned toward him and he kissed her gently. Monica tangled one of her hands in Wilson's hair and her other hand snaked itself around his waist. Their kisses became deeper and she pushed herself closer to him on the couch.

Shirts were unbuttoned, Wilson ghosted a hand over the smooth curves filling her lacy red bra. She leaned herself back on Wilson's couch, he unbuckled his belt. He was over her, and his open shirt hid their bodies from view, but she was moaning and he was grunting and thrusting into her. The both of them gasped, and he moved to collapse on top of her...

Wilson opened his eyes and sat up, breathing heavily. He was in his bed, and he was sweating. He looked to his left. House was asleep on his stomach, not touching Wilson but only inches from him. His head rested on the bed in between their two pillows, and his breathing was even.

Wilson scrambled to get the confining covers off of him and tried to get out of bed without waking House. He stumbled into the bathroom, sank to his knees, and coughed into the toilet. He flushed, cursing the sound, and splashed some water onto his face. "Just a dream," he whispered to the mirror.

"Wilson?"

How had House made it to the bathroom so fast, and why hadn't Wilson heard him?

"Are you okay?"

He was standing in the doorway in a white undershirt and light blue boxers that didn't cover his scar. His face was scruffy and he was squinting into the bright light of the bathroom.

Wilson felt the guilt flooding through his bloodstream. "I'm fine. Just a little stomach bug. Go back to bed."

House slunk away, obeying.

Wilson rubbed more cold water onto his face and rinsed out his mouth. He found some scope in the cabinet and rinsed with that too, getting the taste of dream-Monica and shame out of his mouth. He shut off the bathroom light, slipped silently into the bedroom, and climbed back in beside House.

He was lying on his back now, maybe already asleep again, maybe not yet. Wilson's first instinct was to snuggle against him, rest his head on his chest to prove to him and the rest of the world that they were completely in love and happy. But that was what he'd done with his wives when he'd felt guilty for cheating on them. Wilson reminded himself that he hadn't actually done anything. There wasn't any need for false reassurance—they were fine. He lay on his side, his back close to House. Instead of cuddling, Wilson reached back for House's arm and pulled it across his waist, making House cuddle him. House turned on his side to cooperate and smiled sleepily. He moved his head to Wilson's pillow.

"I love you," he murmured to the back of Wilson's neck.

[]

House saw Cuddy's reflection in one of the hospital's glass walls and tried to speed up his walking. However, not having a gimp leg, she inevitably caught up anyway. Her mouth was about to form the age, gender, and symptoms of a patient while she handed him a file, but she stopped when her eyes reached his wrist and looked at him.

"That's a nice watch," she said.

"Birthday present," House responded shortly, trying to walk away from her.

"Wilson got that for you?" she asked, her voice full of doubt for some reason.

"No, it was one of my other male lovers," he answered. "But shh, don't tell Wilson. If he finds out I'm screwed. Or rather...not screwed, which is worse."

"Wow," Cuddy said, seemingly impressed. "Well...that's great, House. Learning to trust is a big step, and very important for a serious relationship."

House stopped trying in vain to escape and stared at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Cuddy said innocently, shrugging. "Just...there was a time when you thought the only motivation for expensive gifts was guilt. No way people buy things that nice out of love. Like I said, it's great that you've changed your mind about that, that you've learned to trust."

House looked at her suspiciously, but apparently she was done talking. She handed him a blue file, or, on closer inspection, two blue files.

"Six year old conjoined twins. Fever of 102, rashes all over her body, and sweating."

"Not interested," House said, starting to walk away again.

"That's only one of the twins," Cuddy called after him.

He looked back at her for a second.

"The other one is completely fine," she continued.

House grudgingly walked back to her and took the file.

"Oh, and tell Wilson he has great taste," she added, smiling and heading back to her office.

[]

House leaned back in his chair and tried to look into Wilson's office through their balconies. It was challenging. The blinds weren't completely closed, they were angled to let the sun in, but House could only see glimpses. Apparently someone had brought in an extra desk chair for Monica so that she could sit next to Wilson at his desk. They were sitting close together. House squinted. Not touching, but one of them said something and they both started laughing. Then she did touch his arm. She was getting up. The touch was brief, but there. She walked toward the balcony and for a second House thought she was going to close the blinds, but she was just going around Wilson's desk to exit his office. House couldn't tell if Wilson was checking her out as she walked or keeping his eyes on his work.

"House," Taub's voice made him jump.

All four of them were standing there.

"What's going on?" House said, quickly regaining his composure. "Has Thing Two gotten sick yet?"

[]

This time House actually stood out on his balcony to watch them. Subtle? No. Effective? Yes.

At least now she was sitting in front of his desk, like patients do, rather than next to it. Wilson was looking at either his paperwork or her cleavage. House decided he'd order a pair of binoculars when he got back to his office.

She was getting up. Yes, towards Wilson. She walked around the desk and stood behind him. He was pointing to something on his computer monitor. She leaned over the back of his chair to see better, and her hand found his shoulder. House's fingers tensed around his cane and his other hand went into his jeans pocket and made a fist. Monica nodded at something and then went to sit back down. Her hand left Wilson's shoulder, but her fingers lingered on his upper arm a second longer than necessary.

House decided enough was enough. He swung his legs carefully over the dividing wall of the balcony and headed over to Wilson's office. Both doctors looked up at him as he burst through the door, but he ignored the younger one. He marched around Wilson's desk, leaned his cane against the bookcase, and kissed Wilson on the mouth.

"I'll just give you a minute," he heard Monica say politely, and a moment later came the sound of the balcony door opening and closing. House wasn't really paying attention because he was too focused on Wilson's lips. He'd seated himself gingerly on Wilson's lap and was working a hand through his brown hair.

Wilson was participating equally. His arms were around House, holding him in place, and his lips were just as eager as House's.

House slid his hand down Wilson's neck until he found the knot of his tie. Eyes closed and mouth occupied, he started working his fingers around it until the knot came undone. He pulled it apart with no complaints and then undid the first button on Wilson's shirt. Wilson was kissing him, holding their bodies together, and House pulled away. He got up, grabbed his cane, and sat down broodingly on Wilson's couch.

"What?" Wilson asked, bewildered.

"You did something," House answered without looking at him.

"House, what are you talking about?" Wilson asked, but he felt his face flushing a bit.

"You feel guilty," House explained. "You never let me take your clothes off at work, you never let me just come in here and kiss you when you're in the middle of something. You didn't try to stop me, get me to wait until she left. You let me...have my way with you. Which means you're overcompensating, which means you're feeling guilty, which means you did something."

Wilson looked at the floor. "I...I didn't do anything, House. Nothing has happened between us yet, I swear." Then Wilson cringed. Yet. Why would he say that? He wasn't planning on anything happening. Idiot. Idiot.

House studied him. "But you plan on something happening," he said.

His resigned tone of voice just about broke Wilson's heart. "House, of course I don't. I don't want anything to happen between us. I even had her move to the other side of the desk because when she sits next to me it makes me uncomfortable."

That piqued House's curiosity. "I saw her—she keeps touching you. But she's hot. You're obviously attracted to her. Why does it make you uncomfortable?"

"It's because I'm attracted to her," Wilson explained, blushing. "I'm sorry, House, I can't help it. But I haven't acted on it and I don't want to."

House was looking at him. "Something happened," he said. "You...you wouldn't be looking like this unless something happened."

Wilson's hand had found the back of his neck, which he rubbed subconsciously. "The other night...I kind of...had a dream about her. You know...a dream?" He caught House's eye to convey his meaning.

"A dream involving participation from Jimmy Junior?"

"You named my?–forget it. Yes. That kind of dream. About her." He looked at the floor.

"And?" House prompted, sighing.

Wilson looked confused. "And what?"

"What else happened?"

"Nothing," Wilson said.

House stared at Wilson. He got up from the couch and leaned on his cane, watching Wilson for signs he was lying. "Let me get this straight," House clarified, stepping toward Wilson. "You've spent the last few days wracked with guilt because you had a sexy dream about a sexy chick?"

Wilson smirked. The way House worded it made it sound so ridiculous. He rubbed the back of his neck again and looked up at House. "Uh...yeah?"

"And that's all that happened?"

Wilson nodded.

House rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot," he said affectionately. "Wilson, I've had a sex dream about that girl. I mean, if you want to act on it, it's one thing, but..."

Wilson smiled at the floor. "I guess it's a stupid thing to feel bad about. I don't want to have an affair with her, House."

"I surmised as much," House said, smirking and walking over to Wilson. He nudged the side of Wilson's face with his hand and kissed him.

Wilson smiled against House's mouth before kissing back briefly. He sighed when they pulled away. "I don't blame you for being worried," he admitted. "I know my track record...well...sucks."

"Yeah," House agreed, staying close to Wilson. "That and the fact that Cuddy hired Monica for the sole purpose of getting you to cheat on me."

"House," Wilson groaned, stepping away from him. "Quit being paranoid."

"It's not paranoia," House contradicted. "It's true. She even approached me before she hired her, told me she was 'there for me' if I needed to talk. Then I filled in the 'in case he cheats' blank. She wants to screw with our relationship and then I'll lean on her."

"Or she was just trying to make up for being a bitch lately," Wilson suggested.

"Unrealistic optimist," House accused.

"Paranoid cynic."

"Uh, realist," House corrected.

"Says you."

House didn't respond except to continue staring at Wilson. Wilson smiled back at him.

"You should go," Wilson said. "You have a case, and we left Monica out on the balcony."

"She can wait another five minutes," House decided, stepping close to Wilson again.

Wilson backed off, smirking. "At home," he promised. "Go."

House stole a kiss before he went back out the balcony toward his own office. He passed Monica outside. "Hands off my man," he said to her cheerfully.

She rolled her eyes and went back to Wilson's office.

"Monica, I'm so sorry we kept you out there for so long," Wilson apologized, smiling.

"No worries," she replied, smiling back. "It was a nice day out." She let her hand pass over his arm as she sat down. Her chest shook a bit when she scooted her chair in.

"Actually, Monica, can I talk to you about something?" Wilson asked softly.

"Sure," she responded, her face turning serious. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes, everything's fine," Wilson insisted. "It's just...I've noticed that you tend to...put your hand on my arm or my shoulder while we're working, and...it kind of makes me uncomfortable."

"Oh," Monica said, sitting back. "James, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"It's all right," Wilson insisted. "You couldn't know."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "That's just the kind of person I am. I can usually tell when someone is uncomfortable with me touching them, and I back off. But Dr. Cuddy mentioned that you were so friendly, and you've always been so easygoing and nice that I figured you wouldn't have a problem with it. She actually thought that was one of the reasons I'd be such a good fit for the job, because I'm so touchy-feely and you seemed so...receptive."

Wilson had been nodding along with her, then he stopped. "Cuddy encouraged you...touching me?"

Monica shrugged. "More or less. She commented on it. I don't think I've been any friendlier with you than I am with friends, but I guess you could say she encouraged it."

Wilson leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "Monica, I'm going to come clean with you. Is it all right if I share some information that's...kind of personal?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"I've...actually been divorced three times. Each time I fell in love, got married, and then started to fall out of love. I'd find myself falling in love with someone else and I ended up having an affair. Three times." He put his head in his hands and sighed. "I love House. We've been friends for twenty years and he means more to me than anyone else. I don't want to risk losing him. I don't want to make the same mistake with him that I made with my wives." He looked her in the eye. "You're an attractive woman, Monica. I...I'm attracted to you. And I know that you're not...hitting on me, but when you touch me, I'm tempted. I...don't want to be tempted."

"James," she said softly, smiling up at him. "I understand. I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize your relationship with House. It's all right, I promise." She laid her hand on top of Wilson's as she said this, which they realized simultaneously and chuckled as she pulled back. "Sorry," she whispered, grinning apologetically. She really did have the most gorgeous smile. Wilson smiled back. They continued to look at each other for another moment.

[]

House looked up from the monster truck show on TV toward the door. He'd heard steps, but the door remained closed. He heard another door down the hall open and shut and turned back to the TV. Without looking at it, he picked up his phone and sent a message.

'Coming home for dinner?'

A moment later it buzzed, and House flipped it open again.

'Working late. Sorry. I love you.'

House sighed, grabbed his cane, and went into the kitchen.

[]

It was late. The glass doors leading outside the hospital were dark. Monica had her purse and was wearing a jacket as she got off the elevator on the first floor. She paused at the door to the clinic and went in. She knocked on Cuddy's office door, and the Dean of Medicine looked up and beckoned her in.

"Dr. Ramirez, how's it going?" Cuddy asked warmly, gesturing at the seat in front of her.

"It's going well, Dr. Cuddy, thank you for asking," Monica replied. She sat down gingerly, poised on the edge of the chair. Her voice was nervous.

"Is there something I can do for you tonight?" she asked, sitting back in her chair and putting a pen down on the desk.

"Yes, actually I had a question," Monica confessed, fidgeting with her purse.

"What's up?"

"I was wondering what the policy was on...inter-office relationships." She looked up quickly.

"You mean romantic relationships," Cuddy clarified, looking her over. "Between co-workers?"

Monica shrugged. "Maybe...between an employee and a supervisor? I checked my employment contract, but nothing was mentioned. I'm just curious. I...I don't want to jeopardize my career. I just want to know what the policy is. I figured you were the best person to ask."

Cuddy gave a wry smile. "Well, it's certainly not prohibited, but it's generally discouraged."

Monica nodded. "That's completely understandable. Thank you, Dr. Cuddy."

"You should know, though," Cuddy added as Monica started to get up. "The reason we generally discourage inter-office relationships is because if the two parties break up it creates problems for the hospital. Since your position is temporary, unless you plan on breaking up after just two months..." she shrugged. "I say, go for it."

Monica smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Cuddy. You've been very helpful." She got up and left the office.

"Have a nice night," Cuddy called after her.

"You as well, Dr. Cuddy. Thank you." Monica gave a last winning smile before closing the door behind her.