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𝘿𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩

Synopsis: Wilson is trying to figure out who House's mystery girlfriend is, not knowing that it is, in fact, his daughter.

Warning: Dad's best friend trope; the reader is around 26 and House around 47. This is extremely taboo; if you're not comfortable with this trope, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. I don't support any of this in real life and this is completely a fictional setting and situation.

Being the daughter of the one and only Dr. James Wilson had many benefits; she could probably work at any hospital she wanted. She spent many hours in the hospital growing up, which made her extremely comfortable with the place and, one thing that she was currently enjoying the most, being around Dr. Gregory House a lot. He was the most attractive man she has ever met, her friends didn't understand the appeal and well, she couldn't blame them, they only saw an inase, old and sexist drug addict who thinks that just because he's a doctor that he's god, she didn't see him as that, maybe it's because they never see the side which is laughing with her dad after he lost a patient, the side where when he's vulnerable he never seems to look people in the eye, the side that secretly bought her flowers every morning and leaves them at her front door. So, it wasn't a surprise to her when she decided to become a diagnostician, specifically to work under Dr. Gregory House. She used the excuse that it was the closest hospital and that she wanted to be near her dad, saying he wouldn't be as overprotective if he could go in and check on her whenever he wanted. Everyone bought the excuse- well, almost everyone; only her boyfriend knew the real reason and was very proud of himself because of it.

Her dad was more than happy; what parent wouldn't enjoy working in the same building as their child? He was worried about the diagnostic part; he was just worried about whether she could handle the comments and harassment. Sure, she knew him all her life, but still, Wilson was also worried about the other party- if House even makes one sexual remark about her- Safe to say that Wilson was more than happy about his daughter's career choice.

A few months had passed; surprisingly, to Wilson, his daughter hadn't complained about House, which meant she was either ignoring it or she wasn't telling him; the second possibility worried him.

It was a Monday morning when she heard her doorbell ring. She fixed her hair one final time, grabbed her bag, and opened the front door. Outside was her boyfriend with his usual smirk. She kissed him. "Good morning," he muttered against her lips. "Good morning to you too." She replied. He handed her the motorcycle helmet, and they got on the bike. "It's our three-month anniversary." She said, smiling and holding onto his waist as he started the bike. "Ugh, please don't tell me you inherited that stupid trait from your dad." He grumbled, then, after a few moments, he gave her an envelope. "Of course I remembered; I'm not an idiot." She smiled and kissed his cheek, giving him her square envelope. Both of them knew what was inside each of them; they were both musicians: he played the piano, and she played the guitar, so he gave her sheet music he had written himself, and she gave him a cover of a song she had made and recorded on a CD. Soon they arrived at the hospital. He parked, and she gave him the helmet; they went their separate ways so people wouldn't see them coming in together.

They were working on a case, the usual procedure: drinking a liter of coffee and staying awake as long as possible. When it was lunchtime, House obviously made Wilson pay for everything; would he even be House if he didn't? They sat down at one of the tables; House was doing his usual complaining about his employees being incompetent, and Wilson noticed that he wasn't mentioning his daughter; he was confused. House definitely wasn't the type of person who would think, 'hm.. I won't say anything bad about the one employee whose dad was sitting right in front of me. Wouldn't want to hurt the poor guy's feelings.' Which meant, in Wilson's head, that either his daughter was perfect, which he knew she wasn't, or that he simply didn't notice her failures, which was strange.

Wilson stopped thinking when he heard House's phone ping. House reacted immediately, picking it up and reading something before smiling a little. He got a text. From someone he liked romantically, and Detective Wilson was on the case.

"You like her, huh?"

House's heart dropped as he looked up at his friend, which he definetly wasn't smiling at his daughter's text, and all the blood drained from his face. "What?" He already felt sick to his stomach, Wilson noticed. "Are you okay? I'm not going to judge you for having a crush on someone; it was about time. I'm happy for you." He felt his life going back into his body. "So... Who is she?" Wilson smirked; House kept his demeanor. "You're hallucinating. It's just a cute video of cats." Wilson scoffed. "Yeah, right, because you are a big softy who likes cute and cuddly animals." Suddenly, the realisation hit him: "You are getting soft, because you like someone soft." He smirked. House looked down, then to the side. "Would you stop your analysing? Not every muscle I move is a mystery that needs to be figured out." He got up, ready to leave. "I do hope it's a girl, House; she must be nice, given that you've been happier for the past few weeks. You deserve it." Wilson left, and House knew that his best friend would one day regret saying those words.

Just as he was walking to his office, he felt someone grab his cane and drag him to the janitor's closet. He didn't need to look to know who it was, and his theory was confirmed when he felt a pair of lips on his; after a few seconds, he pulled away. "Copying Chase and Cameron? You do know how that story ended; spoiler alert, it wasn't a happily ever after." She sighed. "Well, we aren't Cameron and Chase, are we?" She tried to pull him in for another kiss; he gently pushed her away, a soft look in his eyes. "No, we're not. If we get found out, we get killed. Correction: I get killed by your dad; he gives you a spanking before spending his lifetime in prison." She sighed, pulling her hands away. "Fine, your place after work?" She asked. He nodded. "Sure, what do you want me to order?" She kissed his stubbled cheek. "You pick." House rolled his eyes as they quietly left the closet. "Ugh, I hate when women say that; just pick something!" She shook her head. "I don't know what, anything works, really." He nodded. "Right, anything, bull testicles sound good? Maybe with a side of frogs?" She glared at him. "Chinese." He smiled. "Thank you." She suddenly kissed him. He blushed. "Boy, are you risky today?" She smiled. "Someone has to be."

A few hours later, they were lying on his couch, eating the Chinese food he ordered. "What did you tell your dad?" House suddenly asked. She raised her eyebrow, looking at him. "About what?" House sighed, putting down his food. "About where you were." She shrugged. "I told him I have a boyfriend." House was shocked. She chuckled. "What? You know what he's like; he would eventually start investigating and find out about us. It's better that I told him there's someone." House shrugged. "I suppose." She stopped mid-bite, putting down her food, before sitting down onto his lap. "What's up with all this Wilson talk? You never talk about him that much; did something happen?" She gently pushed his hair back; he sighed. "He thinks I have a girlfriend." She smiled at him. "You do." He chuckled. "Come on, you know what I meant." She shook her head. "Relax, he will never connect the dots; I will even start complaining about you, as added protection." House couldn't help but smirk. "Complaining about me, huh? That means you have something to complain about." He said, raised his eyebrows, and she cocked her head. "There is no way you think you're perfect." He shrugged. "I kinda am." She chuckled and hit his chest; he flipped them around, and she giggled.

"Love you." She smiled; he made a deep chuckle. "Love you too." She kissed him, and he picked her up. She yelped, "You don't have to do this, your leg-" He cut her off. "Is fine, thank you for asking, my penis on the other hand..." She blushed and smirked, starting to kiss his neck. He carried her into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

After a few hours, she stayed awake; he had fallen asleep a while ago, after the second round drained him completely. She sat up, using the covers to cover her chest. She looked around his bedroom in the dark, the moonlight being the only source of light. Kissing House's shoulder and back, she got up, picked up his graphic shirt from the floor, and put it on before leaving the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

She turned on all of the lamps, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the lights. She sat down at the piano, opening the cover. She looked at all of the keys; she didn't really know how to play, but she did know the basics. Pressing a few keys, she slowly got into the rhythm; it wasn't the most tuned song, but it wasn't the worst thing ever. As she got into her own world, she didn't hear anything around her, definitely not her boyfriend coming out of his bedroom and walking towards her, but she did feel a warm breath hitting the back of her neck and a pair of arms coming in from behind her. She yelped. "You suck at this." He said, his voice groggy from sleep. She could imagine that his hair was messy too; she wanted to turn around and look, but he trapped her with his arms. She did always love his arms, the one vein sticking out that made her melt, his rough but soft hands, his very particular shape of his fingers... "Let me show you." He started to play from behind her; she leaned her head back against his bare chest, looking up at him. He scoffed and smirked down at her. "Stealing my shirt and sneaking around my house?" She shrugged. "I couldn't sleep." He sat down next to her. "Well then, might as well teach you how to play the piano." She was surprised. "Right now?" He shrugged. "I don't plan on sleeping, and neither do you. Might as well be productive," she smiled.

The next day they acted like nothing happened, well, at least tried to. They had a new case, and currently they were doing a differential diagnosis. Whenever she said something correct, he gave her a small smile, and they held eye contact for a second too long; Cameron, Chase, and Foreman definitely noticed. When House gave them orders on what to do, Chase purposely stayed behind to look at the way House was looking at her; he had this sense of desire in his eyes, a softness, a softness only someone who shared intimate moments with someone would have. As he also left the office, he signaled Cameron and Foreman to walk slower, so they could talk without her noticing. "Did you guys see how they're looking at each other?" Cameron asked, "They're practically eye fucking each other. They probably fucked each other too." Chase added. Foreman chuckled. "Chase!" Cameron said. "There's no reason to be jealous." Foreman made a mocking pout face. "No, Foreman, we're wrong; they made love." Foreman laughed. Cameron rolled her eyes. "I'm telling Cuddy." They shrugged. "Do what you want," Foreman said. "It's your funeral," Chase added before speeding up to catch up.

House was bouncing his big red ball against the wall as he looked at the whiteboard filled with symptoms. This was a particularly complicated case, and he already suspected that he was going to spend a lot of long nights on it. He heard someone open his glass door and walk in; he could already tell who it was by the sound of their feet hitting the ground and by the pace of their walk. "Are you here to jump my bones or because you have the results?" He asked, not even looking at her. "And if I said both?" He smirked, finally turning to look at her. "I would say that's the correct answer." She smiled, giving him the scans. "The MRI was clean, no lesions." He put it up to the light, looking at it. She walked closer and sat on his lap. He smirked, blushing slightly before putting the scan down. "Too bad, looks like we're going to be staying in late." He leaned back. She scoffed, rubbing his chest. "You mean that Cameron, Chase, Foreman, and I are going to be staying in late; you're going home." He shrugged. "Benefits of being the boss." She rolled her eyes and leaned down to kiss him; he kissed her back. Pulling at his hair, making him groan out of pleasure, he pulled away slightly, their faces only inches away, their lips touching slightly and their eyes closed. "Right here?" He gruffly asked. She nodded. "Why not?" She smiled slightly. Suddenly, they heard footsteps coming closer; she jumped up, pulling away. "That's why." He quietly said. She straightened her shirt and lab coat; he changed his expression.

The rest of the team walked inside; they just hoped that they wouldn't notice anything off. They started talking about their results; her mind went back into doctor mode. She didn't need to ask to know that House did too. When they finished the discussion, she was the first one to leave the office for tests. House looked up at the rest of the team, giving them the gesture that they should follow her. They left.

Everyone spent the rest of the night thinking about the case, staying up all night; she and House spent it together at his apartment. The night was spent with three empty coffee mugs, crumpled-up paper all over the floor, and both of them looking like they had knocked on the doors of hell, got thrown inside, went through torture, and were brought back to the real world. "What about-" He interrupted her. "No." She was surprised by his cutoff, turning her head to the side. "You wrote your supposed diagnosis in the notebook; it's wrong, because..." He explained to her that a lot of people would have their jaws on the floor because, during the explanation, he only insulted her once; they would come to the conclusion that he really does love her. They continued their evening late into the night and early morning, going back and forth between each other, but mostly they spent it in silence, either accompanied by House's tapping of his fingers and her leg bouncing.

House's alarm reminded them that they needed to start getting ready for work. "Fuck, we didn't have any sleep." She rubbed her eyes; he sighed, throwing his notebook on the coffee table, right next to the open textbook. "Doesn't matter, you should start getting ready. Go take a shower; I'll tell Cuddy you had car troubles and I had to go and pick you up." He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. She looked at him, getting up. "Are you sure? I don't want to cause you trouble-" He interrupted her. "Just go, alright?" He looked up at her, his eyes soft and tired. She gave him a soft smile and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, I won't be long."

She didn't remember much of the day that followed, probably because she was running on caffeine and a few stolen kisses from House. She did remember the patient leaving the hospital, healthy again, so it was worth it. Deciding to not go to her boyfriend's that night, she walked inside her apartment. She needed a night alone; it had been a stressful day, and she desperately needed sleep. Putting the kettle on the stove, she was happy to have tea after a week of drinking three coffees a day. As the tea was cooling down, she drew herself a bath, putting in some rose petals and grabbing her book too; she was excited to finally get back into it. After she had her bath, she felt like she was going insane, so she got dressed as fast as possible before throwing herself on the bed and falling asleep.

The next morning she woke up early as she usually does, now having the luxury to. She spent the morning with a cup of coffee and an episode of a TV show before getting ready and leaving, getting into her car. Arriving at the office, she greeted Chase, Cameron, and Foreman, who were all looking at her weirdly; she hoped that haven't figured it out yet. If they did, they would no doubt tell Cuddy, who is going to tell her dad, who is going to kill House, then her. She was about to ask him when House walked into the office: "All of you, clinic duty, go on." He shooed them away. Making small talk with Cameron, she acted like everything was normal, which she knew wasn't the truth; it couldn't be. The usual clinic patients started to blend all into one over time: sore throat, cold, blood draw, embarrassing STD... It all goes in circles, except a few very abnormal ones, like the ones House usually gets. She was doing a lymph node exam on a little boy when the door suddenly opened; it was Cameron. "What is it?" She asked. Cameron gulped. "Cuddy asked for you." She felt her heart drop. "Right, tell her I'll come right after I finish this exam." Cameron nodded and left, closing the door behind her. Returning her attention to the little boy, she finished the exam, taking an extra long time. She wasn't really excited about the conversation that was about to take place.

"Thank you." The little boy smiled, taking the lollipop she had just offered him. She smiled at him and waved as he left the exam room. Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her clothes and hair. The worst-case scenario is her getting fired, right?

The atmosphere of the hospital was very warm. Given that it was noon on an August day, she always loved the way the sun shone through the glass windows and onto the walls, but she had a feeling that this wouldn't be the day that she'd associate with happiness. She knocked on Cuddy's door, nervously fidgeting with her hands. "Come in!" Hearing the permission,n she opened the door and walked inside, taking a deep breath. "Hi." She could hear her voice quiver. She cleared her throat. "Cameron said you wanted to see me?" She asked. Cuddy nodded, sitting down at her desk. "What's going on between you and House. Don't lie to me; you know how House always does. I don't want you to do the same." Suddenly, she felt like she was going to throw up. "What do you mean? He's my boss; we work together." She went with the innocent route. Cuddy rubbed her temples. "I really can't deal with lies today; just tell me the truth so we can talk properly like two adults." She looked down, knowing that this was it. She needed to tell the truth so Cuddy could trust her in the future. "Me and House, we're uh, dating." She said, not even having the courage to look her in the eyes. Cuddy sighed. "Seriously, him?" She nodded. "Yes, him." Trying her best not to roll her eyes. "He's House! Cynical and an absolute bastard! He's also an addict and much older than you." She couldn't help but sigh. "Did my dad tell you to give me the lecture? If so, tell him to come here to give it himself."

"Wilson doesn't know." She felt her eyes widen. "You... didn't tell him?" Cuddy sighed. You're a grown woman; you can figure it out yourself." She scoffed. "Then why give me the lecture if you trust me to make this decision? Either you trust me, or you don't." She couldn't help but glare at her. "You know what he's like." Cuddy argued back, "No, you think you do." Taking a deep breath, she looked back up at Cuddy. "Now, can I go back to doing my job?" Cuddy glared at her. "You're a good doctor, and you're making a mistake. He's going to break your heart, and then you won't be able to work here." She glared back. "I'm sensitive, not weak. How kind of you to care about me- oh, right, you don't, just about my job." Turning around, she walked towards the door. "Stay out of my life. If he does break my heart, I promise you that I'll be back to work at 9am." She closed the door behind her.

It was seven pm when House walked into his apartment. Suddenly, he felt a pair of lips on his. After a second of surprise, he kissed her back. After a few seconds, he pulled away. "What are you doing here?" His voice was groggy and deep. She smiled, leaning against his chest. "I missed you, and you said that we shouldn't show intimacy while we're at work." He rubbed her back. "Can we sit down?" He asked. She slowly pulled away from him. "What is it?" She was concerned. Together, they sat down on the couch. "We need to talk." He licked his lips, rubbing his thigh, his face serious. She gulped and nodded. "Okay." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I talked to Cuddy; she told me how she gave you the lecture, and how you're defending me." He looked at her; she shrugged, smiling. "No problem." He shook his head. "Problem." She suddenly turned her head towards him. "Cuddy's right." He said. She scoffed, "What?" He sighed, leaning back. "I'm going to hurt you, and when Wilson finds out, I'm going to hurt him too." She was shocked. "What? No, no no." She was dumbfounded by his sudden seriousness. "You're being delusional. You think that we're going to get married, have two kids and a dog in a nice house?" She sighed. "I'm not being delusional; you're being self-destructive. If this was about any other person, you'd tell Cuddy that she's an idiot, but when it's you, you suddenly believe every word she said!" She got up. "She is an idiot, but she's right, and you know it! I'm bad for you! You deserve someone better!" He got up as well. "I don't want you better; I want you!" Feeling her eyes tear up. "No, you don't; you just think you do."

"Then why am I here?!" She yelled; a tear rolled down her cheek. "Leave for all I care!" He yelled back; she rushed out of the apartment. As soon as she left, he couldn't hold back his anger, and he punched a wall. He felt like he wanted to pull out his hair. Sitting down on the couch, he grabbed the remote, wanting to numb his pain with some bad TV, but he knew deep down that it was useless; he hadn't felt this shitty in years.

Over the next few days, they tried their best to stay away from each other. During differentials, she rarely spoke up, and when she did ask,d she told the other members of the team; he never addressed her. Wilson has noticed the seemingly absurd timing of both his daughter's and friend's decline in happiness and increaseinf irritability; he didn't think much of it. He just thought that he wasn't lucky. He was surprised when House sat down at his table at lunch; he hadn't done that in days. "Need help." Now he was even more surprised, but he knew that he needed to get over it quickly or House would take off. "What's up?" He asked, "You were right; I do have a girlfriend." Wilson couldn't help but smile a bit at himself; he was right again. "And we got in a fight," Wilson scoffed. "I thought you knew that it was obvious that couples fight?" House looked to the side, then down. "It's not like that. It was a pretty serious fight." Wilson felt his eyebrows raise. "What was it about?" House took the chips from his tray. "Can't tell you." He sighed. "Then how am I supposed to help you if I don't know the reason?" House smacked his hand against the table. "I don't know!" Wilson was surprised by the sudden aggression; he must really like this girl. "Okay, okay." He put his hands up. "Whenever me and any of my wives fought, Iapologisedd as soon as possible, usually with some gift, like flowers or chocolates." House nodded, thinking over it. sighed, "Thanks." He said, rushing out of the cantina, still holding the bag of chips in his hand.

After work, Wilson decided to go visit his daughter, maybe try to help her like he helped House. After being let in, he noticed that her apartment was unusually messy; he decided not to say anything about it. His daughter immediately sat back down on the couch. She was wearing his hoodie, which usually happens when she's really down. He sat down next to her. "I brought you some ice cream, chocolate chip cookie, your favorite." He brought the tub out of the shopping bag; she took it, leaning against him. "Thanks, Dad." He held her close. "Of course." After a few minutes of silence, well, despite the sound of the TV and his daughter eating the ice cream, he decided to start working on his next case. "Was it House?" He asked. Her eyes widened, turning her head towards him. "Huh?" She asked, "Was it House? Who upset you?" He asked. She blinked a few times before nodding. "Uhm, yeah." She said, leaning back against him. Wilson sighed. "I told you, it's best to ignore him." He said,d "I know, and that's what I'm planning on doing." He smiled, rubbing her shoulder. "That's my girl."

He waited for her to fall asleep before cleaning up the apartment. He figured it was going to be fast, and it was one final nice thing he could do before leaving. Just as he put on his shoes, he noticed a very familiar hoodie folded on the chair next to her closet...

She decided last night to follow her dad's advice; she was going to ignore House and her feelings towards him. At first, everything was going great: clinic duty, new case, House ignoring her as well... Just what she hoped would happen. Then, why wasn't she feeling happier? Why was she feeling worse? She hoped that this would work soon; otherwise, it meant she was deeply in love with him.

She was pulling an all-nighter for the case when she felt and heard something hit the glass table. It was her motorcycle helmet she wears when she rides with House. She looked up, looking for the source of the throw; it was House. He was wearing his leather motorcycle jacket, and he had his backpack on one shoulder, but she could tell that he was holding something behind his back. "Let's go. You know you're useless when you don't get enough sleep; you'll just end up torturing yourself." He said. She looked at him, expecting more. "What?" He said, then acted like he remembered something. He pulled his hand from behind his back; it was a teddy bear, holding a big chocolate and a little folded paper. "I'm sorry." He put it down on the table; before she could even process the action, he left for his office. After a few moments of being stunned. She grabbed the bear; it was absolutely adorable. It was even holding a little green lightsaber. He knew how much of a Star Wars geek she was, but she had no idea how he figured out that green was her favorite lightsaber color. The chocolate was her favorite type: milk chocolate with hazelnut pieces. She pulled out the paper, read the context of it, and couldn't help but blush and chuckle.

'Piano lessions:

Every Tuesday at 8pm. Dr. Gregory House's place. Item's to bring: Forgivness for your boyfriend, he truly is a big jerk.'

She knew that House was secretly a big lover of romantic clichés. He always told her that he did it because she loved it; she does, but she knew the truth. She decided a while ago to keep his secret.

Walking into his office, she couldn't hide her smile. He was sitting at his desk, holding his ball, obviously trying to act like he didn't care, but she could see it in his eyes. She walked towards him. "Very cheesy." She smirked; he shrugged. "You love cheesy." She chuckled. "I do." He sighed. "You were right; I was being self-destructive, and Cuddy is an idiot." He looked up at her. "Do you forgive me?" She acted like she was thinking about it, but she couldn't control the urge to smile, feeling giddy. "Hmm.. Well, I'm not entirely sure; a kiss would definitely help with my decision-making." She could probably see House's tension melt away. "I can help with that." He smirked as she sat down on his lap. They started to kiss, which slowly turned into a make-out session. After a few seconds, she pulled away to get some air. "Greg-" He froze. She finally opened her eyes, looking at him. "What is it?" She was confused. "You never called me Greg before." She shrugged. "I never admitted to myself how much I truly love you." He softly smiled. "I love you too." She gently pulled his hair back, and he pulled her in for another kiss.

"House, I found your hoodie at-" Both of them suddenly jumped away from the sound of Wilson's voice. Wilson dropped his hoodie and, well, his jaw. After a few moments, his face turned into one of pure rage, his teeth chattering against each other. "HOUSE! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU AND SELL YOUR ORGANS!" House gulped. "Hey, it's your fault your daughter has daddy issues."

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