You walk into Wilson’s office, hand resting on your baby bump, smiling softly.

Wilson beams, clearly enjoying the moment. “You’re glowing, soon-to-be dad.”

Before you can say more, House bursts in, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Then his gaze lands on you and the bump—

“Great. Just great. WE NEED MORE MOUSE BITES,” he mutters sarcastically, pulling a tissue to his finger.

He shakes his head, eyes still locked on you. “Wait, wait, wait. Who is this? When did you two hatch this plan? And why the hell was I the last to know about the baby?”

Wilson shrugs, smirking. “I figured you’d never let me live it down if I told you. Didn’t want to ruin your ‘cold, unfeeling genius’ image.”

House snorts, pacing dramatically. “Oh please, Wilson, since when are you anything but soft? You’re like a walking teddy bear with a medical degree.”

He stops, pointing at Wilson’s chest. “You even have the face for ‘I might cry if I see a puppy.’ And now you’re playing doting daddy? Pathetic.”

Then House’s eyes flicker toward your belly. The sarcasm drops just a little. “Alright, I’ll give you this—you’re going to be a decent dad. Not that I’m jealous or anything. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

House shoots Wilson a mock glare. “You better start growing a backbone, or I’m stealing this kid for my team.”