Chapter Text
Bogged down by a feast of Chinese food, Wilson made her way back to their apartment. She struggled with the lock, her keys, and not dropping all of their food on the ground. She knew better than to ask House to help—she either would or she wouldn’t. Either way, she knew Wilson was fighting for her life at their door.
As soon as she got her key in the lock, the door swung open. Wilson narrowly kept her grip on dinner, stumbling forward into House’s chest. She steadied Wilson, expression carefully blank the way it only ever was when she was up to shit. House was scheming, and Wilson had no clue what horrific prank she could have put into motion in her absence.
“You took longer than usual,” House said, hobbling back to her spot on the couch.
It looked like she hadn’t left her spot. When Wilson dumped their food on the counter, she noticed everything was exactly where she had left it. House hadn’t given herself her shot or even gotten up off the couch. Wilson hesitated. House seemed to have gotten over that final hump, they had even talked about it, but she hadn’t taken the estrogen. House could have exhausted her emotional stamina by just asking for the estrogen before Wilson left. Or she could be scared, in need of that final push.
“You didn’t take the estrogen while I was gone,” Wilson replied.
She looked at House. Watched her sink a bit lower into the couch. She was shifty—embarrassed. She mumbled something Wilson didn’t catch. She grabbed a takeout box for herself, knowing House wouldn’t eat unless she was stealing Wilson’s food when she was in a mood like this. She started with House’s favorite, letting them marinate in silence before ‘changing her mind’ and grabbing what she ordered for herself.
“I said that I want you to administer it,” House said.
She was more comfortable with the takeout to hide behind and the safety of Wilson being on the other side of the room. She played with the food, not ready to eat it or turn her undivided attention to the conversation at hand. House was House. House would always be House. For her, this was a lot to admit without breaking something or killing someone.
“Okay. Now?” Wilson asked, carefully neutral.
House stood up, and Wilson took that as a ‘yes.’ She washed her hands and got everything prepared as House made her way over. She braced herself against the counter while Wilson filled the syringe.
“Pants,” Wilson said, and House sighed.
House pulled them down just enough to expose half of her ass. Wilson saw a glimpse of lace from her ex-panties and had to fight back a snort. She let herself grin fondly at her best friend’s ass for a moment before getting to work. Her heart felt warm and heavy in her chest—moments like this reminded her why she put up with House’s shit for the better part of a decade. She was a ratty old shelter cat of a woman, and Wilson loved her.
When she wiped the injection site with an alcohol wipe, she considered what House would do if their situations were reversed and gave her a squeeze. Just as House opened her mouth to crack a joke, Wilson stuck her.
House was quiet. Wilson disposed of the needle and watched House. She was still bent over their counter, ass out. She was thinking. Wilson could tell from the far-away look on her face that usually accompanied her running off. Hopefully she’d remember to pull her pants off before she rushed off to save whatever patient she had.
“I don’t feel different physically, but I think it had an immediate placebo effect. Emotionally,” House said.
She did remember to pull her pants back up before she turned to lean against the counter and face Wilson. Wilson couldn’t fully fight back her smile. Her lips twitched upwards into a self-satisfied smirk.
“You’re so stubborn.”
House laughed sarcastically and pushed herself off the counter. She had to squeeze past Wilson to get back to the couch and her food, and Wilson took the opportunity to grab her arm. She stopped and looked down at Wilson. They were incredibly close. Wilson pushed herself up, onto her toes, and closed the gap between them. She pressed a kiss to the side of House’s mouth and then let her go. Because she couldn’t tell House she was proud of her.
“I love you,” Wilson said.
“You’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever met,” House replied.
House leaned down and actually kissed her. She couldn’t be outdone, after all. It was sweet, sweeter than Wilson had imagined it would be. She kissed slow and gentle—the opposite of how she acted. She held Wilson by the hips and explored her mouth. Trying to unravel all of Wilson’s secrets and learn her inside and out was incredibly in character for her. And ruining the kiss by smiling into it was also very in character for Wilson.
“For the most divorced woman in the world, you sure do suck at kissing.”
“Have you considered that’s why I’ve been divorced so many times?”
House laughed, and they were so close Wilson felt her exhale. She pulled House in for a hug. They wouldn’t talk about it, any of it, but they both knew what the other was thinking. It was one of those things they were on the same page about, where they understood each other without words. Being women was just another thing they had in common; like being doctors, like loving each other.
“I love you,” Wilson said, again.
“I’m glad you do,” House replied.