Chapter 1: Dinner Date

Bonnie hadn't been kidding when she'd said that Wilson was good in bed. The man was like a closeted sex monster just waiting to unleash his powers in sheer and utter ecstasy.

"Jesus, Wilson…" House gasped in pleasure, his body tingling in delight. "Who knew you…had it in you…"

"Shut up," Wilson panted, but it was obvious he was smiling. "Every time we do this, you act like…it's the first…ohhh, God…" An uncontrollable moan escaped his lips, interrupting his speech as ripples of pleasure radiated through his body.

"You're just that good," House breathed. He heaved his body even closer to Wilson, loving how even with their legs twisted together, sweat and breaths converging, he barely felt any pain. "You know, those love nymphs…really…knew their stuff…"

"Shit," Wilson muttered. The phone was ringing.

"Ignore it," House growled, but Wilson was far too concerned that it was a patient to just let it ring. He gently pulled away, untangled himself from the sheets, and scooted over to grab the cordless phone from the nightstand.

"This is Dr. Wilson." A pause. "Oh…Oh my God. Hi." He struggled to sit up as House, annoyed and frustrated, rolled over onto his stomach and faceplanted into the pillow. "No, this is a good time. How are you? Is everything alright?"

"Everything sucks," House mouthed, temporarily lifting his head so that Wilson could see his irritated expression. Wilson held up his index finger to signal that the call would be over soon.

"I…sure, I guess I could. When and where? Okay, sounds good. I'll see you then."

Wilson hung up the phone, and House turned his head to look at him. "Who was that?"

Wilson laid back down, rolling onto his side to face his lover. "You'll never believe this, but Sam just called."

"Sam who?"

"Carr. Samantha Carr."

House's mouth dropped open in horror. "Did you just agree to have a reunion with Crazy Bitch #1?"

"She said she needs to tell me something that was too important to say over the phone."

"Oh, please, she just wants to get in your pants. Did you tell her that you're gay now and are thus no longer interested?"

"House, I haven't seen Sam in over a decade. If she says it's important, then it must be."

"Right. 'Cause who lies nowadays, anyway?" House sighed and shifted closer to Wilson. "Now, where were we…"

"Actually, she wants to meet me tonight."

"Oh, for God's sake," House groaned. "We're finally together, and women are still trying to take you away from me."

Wilson rolled his eyes and heaved himself up from the bed. "We're grabbing dinner at Mario's. Will you be okay with the leftover lasagna in the fridge?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Wilson sighed. "House, it's just dinner. I'll hear what she has to say that's so important, and then I'll probably never have to see her again. Okay?"

When House only narrowed his eyes in response, Wilson shrugged. "Anyway, mentioning the love nymphs wasn't exactly a turn-on."

"It was a joke!" House yelled in exasperation, but Wilson had already left to take a shower. Conceding defeat, he faceplanted into the pillow again and groaned.

The restaurant was dimly lit, and the murmuring of flirtatious voices among the whitewashed tablecloths and floral surroundings made Wilson shift uncomfortably in his seat. Why had he agreed to meet her at Mario's again?


He looked up and stood to greet her, almost unprepared for her wide-armed embrace and European cheek-kisses. "Hey, Sam."

"Oh, James! It's so great to see you!"

"Here, let me help you with that." He pulled out her chair and helped her get settled before taking his place across from her.

"Always the gentleman," she observed, smiling. "You haven't changed a bit, James. You look fantastic, by the way."

"So do you. You had quite the figure already, but you look like you've lost some more weight."

"It's been over ten years!" she replied with a smile. "A lot can happen in a decade." A waiter approached the table, and they ordered a couple of glasses of wine before opening the menus.

"So," Sam said, perusing the list of dishes. "What have you been up to? Still working in oncology?"

"Yeah, still working in oncology. And you?"

"I've actually been taking some time off. I just needed a break, you know? But anyway, it's been nice without all of the extra stress."

The wine came, and they both ordered salads. Unsure what else to say or do, Wilson sat stiffly in his chair, letting an awkward smile drape across his face.

"What about women?" Sam asked, seemingly totally comfortable as she took a sip of wine. "Did you ever settle down again?"

Wilson blushed. It wasn't the first time he'd had to explain his new relationship, but usually others weren't all that surprised that his intimate friendship with House had matured into something greater. Sam, on the other hand, didn't even know who House was.

"I was married a couple more times," he began. "But actually, right now I'm in a relationship with an old friend of mine, Greg. Thought I'd try batting for the other side." He laughed nervously, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Oh!" Sam was obviously shocked, but she didn't let her surprised expression linger for too long. "Well, that's great! As long as you're happy."

"I am," he said, relieved. "What about you, did you ever remarry?"

She shook her head, moving her wine glass as the waiter delivered their salads. "Nah. There've been some flings here and there, but…there never was anyone quite like you, James."

Wilson poked at his salad with his fork, not wanting to fall for her usual tricks. "Sam, what is it that you wanted to tell me?"

She took her time in chewing and swallowing, cleansing her mouth with another sip of wine. "I guess it's come to that, then."

"You said it was too important to tell me over the phone."

"It is. And thank you again for meeting me here, James – I was so lucky to be able to find you in the phonebook. I know this was all very sudden, and I really appreciate you being so accommodating."

He waited, watching as Sam considered her words.

"Do you remember our divorce? How…quickly that all went?"

"You mean, how I found out from your lawyer that you wanted to leave me?"

"…Yeah. That wasn't exactly how I wanted it to go, but I just didn't know how to face you."

Wilson tightened his grip around his fork. He'd been interrupted in the middle of mind-blowing sex for this? House was right – he shouldn't have come.

"Look, Sam, that was a really long time ago – "

"I'm not finished. James, the reason why everything was so sudden was because I…"

He popped a tomato into his mouth. Any day, now.

"…I was pregnant."

He dropped the fork. Swallowed. Choked on the tomato juice and gulped down the rest of his wine.

"Sam, that's not funny," he wheezed.

"I'm not trying to be funny. The reason why I wanted to meet you tonight was because I needed to tell you that you – we – have a daughter."

The room was spinning. Why was it spinning? He needed to get out, get some fresh air, call House and maybe pass out. It was too hard to breathe. Disoriented, Wilson threw his napkin to the floor and rushed out of the restaurant.

"James. James!"

She caught up to him outside and grabbed his arm. "James, please!"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he exploded. "You knew you were pregnant, and instead of telling me, you filed for divorce? Jesus, Sam!"

"I needed to get out," she tried to explain. "Our marriage was a wreck and we were both miserable, and I knew you'd never let me go if you found out I was pregnant."

"Oh, well, I can't imagine why!" he shot back. "I can't believe this!"

"I'm sorry." Her pleading eyes sought his. "I'm so, so sorry. I've never regretted anything more in my life, I swear."

Still furious, Wilson shook her hand off his arm and began to walk away.

"Her name is Eva," she called after him, desperate. He couldn't help but stop, and she knew it. "You know, like Evan?"

He slowly turned around. "You obviously wanted to get rid of me. Why bother giving her a version of my middle name?"

"She had your eyes. Every time I looked at her, I saw you."

"Why now?" He had to keep talking, or the tears brimming in his eyes might start to leak out. "You've had over ten years to tell me. Why did you change your mind?"

"Because I'm dying," she whispered. This time, the tears came from her.

When Wilson returned to the apartment, House was sprawled out on the couch, casually strumming his guitar as the television screen glowed with a muted episode of The L Word.

"That was fast," House called out, not looking up from the TV as he continued to play random chords. "What'd Crazy Bitch want?"

Wilson didn't answer, opting to grab a beer from the fridge instead.

"Did she jump you? Because seriously, if I were her, I'd be all over your gorgeous ass."

Wilson downed the beer, tossed the bottle, and made his way into the bedroom. House, realizing that maybe this wasn't the best time for his usual sarcasm, rested the guitar against the coffee table and used the remote to switch off the TV. He waited, hoping that Wilson would come out on his own, but after a few minutes of silence he hoisted himself up and limped to the bedroom. Gently pushing the door open, he saw Wilson lying in bed, his back to House.

Still quiet, House tentatively sat on the opposite side. When Wilson didn't protest, he reached out and tenderly stroked his hair.

"Hey, Wilson."

"Hmgh," Wilson mumbled. House could never help but smile at the muttering that escaped Wilson's mouth whenever he was upset.

"You can talk to me. Dr. House can make it all better."

"Not this, you can't."

"Try me."

Wilson sighed. "She lied to me. For over ten fucking years, she lied to me."

"I knew the boobs in that photo you showed me were fake."

Wilson's eyes slid up to House in annoyance.

"Okay, okay." House moved to massaging Wilson's back. "Keep going."

Wilson took a deep breath, forfeiting the massage in favor of rolling over to face his lover. "Apparently, I…have a daughter."

House froze. "What?"

"Her name is Eva. She's named after me."

"Holy shit, Wilson."

"And…Sam's dying. Stage IV breast cancer. They caught it really late and the usual treatment just didn't work. It's metastasized to her liver."

House collapsed onto the pillows. "Holy fuck."

"…Is that worse than 'holy shit'?"

House eyed him warily. "If that's the only question you can come up with right now – "

"I'm panicking, okay? I don't know how I'm supposed to react to all of this, and I just…I don't know!" Not wanting to cry in front of House, Wilson turned over to face the wall again.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." House moved in closer to wrap his arms around Wilson. "This is all kinds of screwy, but we'll deal."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Right now, we wait."

"For what?"

"For me to figure it out."

"House, this isn't another one of your puzzles – "

"Your entire history of emotional wreckage is a puzzle." House leaned in and nuzzled Wilson with his nose. "I know I'm a cripple, but I can carry some of the world on my shoulders, too."

Wilson, exhausted, finally let his tense body slump into House's embrace.

"Okay," he whispered, and closed his eyes as he let House hold him.