Wilson glanced over at House, astonished, as House practically curled in on himself, rubbing his leg and hiding his face. This was really bothering him. House cared. Wilson couldn't remember the last time he could say that. House was so meticulous about not caring that he'd practically locked himself into a one-man cell to avoid any human relationships. If Foreman--Foreman--had gotten past that, he must have battered House's walls down with a sledgehammer. Wilson shook his head. There was no chance that he'd leave this alone and act clueless. "Yes, our friendship certainly has been based on mutual respect for privacy up until this point," he said. "It would be wrong of me to breach that trust." Wilson hesitated for a moment after that. He didn't want to leave any clues of his own for House to think about later. His dates with Amber had gone incredibly well, and the longer Wilson could put off House finding out about their relationship, the better. And, since the best defense was a good offense, he shook his head as he pulled away from the curb. Not heading for House's apartment. He wasn't going to give House a means of escape.

"You won't be able to get back there while we're moving," he said, as if he'd considered the matter, and that was the only reason he wouldn't be able to play the silent and obedient role. "Maybe instead you'd like to enlighten me about, oh, say, when you happened to trip into a relationship with one of your staff."