A/N: This is the conclusion. I hope it works for you.
House sat at his desk checking over his patient's file confirming that his prescribed treatment was progressing as planned. He had stayed at the hospital later than usual and was preparing to leave momentarily.
Dr. Wilson entered his office from the hallway door. House looked up. "Why aren't you using our secret passageway?" he asked, tilting his head towards the balcony.
"Because I wanted people to see me come in here," Wilson replied, "in case I don't come out."
"You're here late," Wilson said, checking his watch.
"I actually had some doctoring to do," House said, closing the file and placing it into his outbox. Cameron would take care of it in the morning.
"How's the patient doing?" Wilson asked.
"One hundred percent recovery. Score another one for the old guy," House gloated.
Wilson crinkled his forehead. "I thought Chase came up with the diagnosis."
"But I ordered the test," House qualified.
"You order all the tests."
"Nitpicker." He looked over towards Wilson. "How are you holding up?" he asked, concern showing on his face.
Wilson shook his head. "Not so good. I could use a friend," he said.
"Well, then, you've come to the right place," House said. Wilson nodded appreciatively as he cast his eyes towards the floor. After a moment, he walked over to the desk.
"I believe this is yours," he said, taking something out of his jacket pocket and placing it on the desk in front of House.
House looked at the object, staring at it for a few seconds. He frowned. It was his handkerchief, washed and neatly folded, the gold monogrammed 'H' centered in the middle of the square.
"Where did you … ." His voice trailed off. He looked up at Wilson, not sure whether he should pursue this.
"Julie gave it to me," Wilson said.
"She told you? House asked, shock in his voice and on his face.
"I already knew she was having an affair before you ran into her last Friday," Wilson said, rubbing his forehead. "In fact I've known about it for some time. And since I already knew it didn't really matter."
"But why would she tell you?" House asked, totally not understanding.
Wilson shrugged. "She just did."
"So then, you knew that I knew," House said, avoiding eye contact with Wilson.
"And you're apparently not pissed that I didn't tell you." He looked up at the younger doctor.
"It's not like you cheated on me," Wilson said.
"I figured you had your reasons," the younger doctor added.
"Like what?" House asked, his head tilted questioningly.
"Like… trying to protect me?"
House looked down as he ran his fingers through his hair. He glanced back up at Wilson who was watching him intently.
"You realize if the situation were reversed, I'd be making your life a living hell," House said.
"Really? That's so unlike you," the oncologist said, sinking down into one of the chairs. "Speaking of which, where do we stand on that?"
House shrugged. I'm an old cripple. I forgot why I was mad at you. Remind me so I can get pissed at you all over again."
"Stupid I am not," Wilson said.
"Something about… not being able to trust you, but the reason escapes me at the moment." The older doctor crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
"What do you want me to say, that you've taught me a lesson in friendship?" House asked, looking at Wilson.
Wilson thought for a moment. "I'll settle for a steak dinner."
"You're taking me to dinner?"
"You're paying," Wilson ordered.
"The hell I am."
The young oncologist looked at his friend, his eyes narrowed.
They both stood and walked towards the door. "So I assume you're planning to throw this up to me for the rest of my life," House said as Wilson held the door open for him.
"Thank you," Wilson said, his voice sincere.
"Actually I'd be disappointed if you didn't," House said as they walked side-by-side down the hall.
"Well, I did learn from the master."
House smiled as they headed towards the elevator.
A/N: This will probably be my last story. I thank all those readers who took the time to post reviews.