Well, we're onto the eighth post for these fics and we haven't even hit 100 yet! So you can find the previous posts here: Post 1, Post 2, Post 3, Post 5, Post 6 and Post 7. Now onto the new fics...




Title: Meet The Parents
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 095. Cry
Word Count: 1576
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes: This is a sequel to Prompt 093. Silence - Sounds of Silence and Prompt 094. Night - By My Side. Also - italics indicate the speech is being signed.

His mother had cried.

Wilson had finally gotten the courage up to go and see his parents and tell them the news. He’d taken House along for moral support and for translation purposes, if necessary... and because he needed someone to drive him around now. They were five weeks into learning ASL... and he was ten days out of hospital... and House had mastered it a lot quicker than he had. In fact House had even come up with a system of bastardised signs since he found using sign language with a cane to be somewhat difficult. Wilson hadn’t minded that; actually enjoyed the private language he and House had in a juvenile twelve year old kind of way.

He’d been putting off telling his parents what had happened. He’d had House tell them that he’d been in a small accident and that he was fine but that had been in the days when he still held out hope that his hearing might come back. He was now well past that time and had finally decided that he ought to come clean with his parents. House had reported that his parents had sounded confused but pleased when he’d called to let them know that they were coming on the weekend and Wilson had winced. They’d probably wanted to know why it was House calling and not him but had been too polite to ask.

When they’d pulled up in front of his parents’ home, Wilson had almost lost his nerve and told House to keep driving. He’d looked over to find House watching him with a mix of sardonic amusement and understanding.

Are you joining the ‘I hate visiting my parents’ club now? House had signed with a smirk. You get a free t-shirt and a lifetime supply of beer. You wear the t-shirt, I’ll drink the beer.

Wilson had laughed at that and felt some of his nerves dissipate. Certainly enough to get out of the car and walk up to the door, House limping along beside him. They hadn’t even gotten halfway to the door when it opened and his mother emerged, smiling delightedly.

There had been the usual round of hugs from his Mom and Dad and he knew they were saying something to him but without being able to see either their faces or House’s hands, he was entirely lost. Finally House took charge of the situation, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him into the living room. His parents had followed, looking startled and confused. House had pushed him down onto the sofa and directed his parents to sit opposite. House had then sat down on the sofa and nudged him.

Wilson had swallowed hard and clenched his hands into fists on his knees.

“I... um... I... was a little more badly injured in the crash than House told you,” he stammered.

His parents had immediately shot frowning looks at House who had rolled his eyes.

“It’s not House’s fault,” Wilson had said hastily. “I told him to say that. Mom, Dad... the accident has... I’m deaf.”

His parents had looked utterly blank for a moment then his mother had started crying. His father immediately wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulder and gave Wilson a look of concern.

“James, what are you talking about?”

Wilson hesitated then glanced over at House, almost pleading for his assistance. House sighed and gave him a put-upon look.

“The accident caused swelling on the brain,” House said in a matter-of-fact tone, signing for Wilson’s benefit as he did so. “This is the most likely cause of the hearing loss. We hoped that once the swelling subsided that his hearing would come back but it hasn’t. It may never.”

Wilson had the impression that it was the way House was signing more than his words that convinced his parents and then he had the dubious honour of watching his mother cry even harder. He scrambled to his feet and started walking hurriedly towards the back door. When the thump on the floor came, he paused in the doorway to the living room and hesitantly turned to look at House. Thumping the floor with his cane had become House’s favourite way of getting his attention when he was too far away to poke and he had nothing to throw.

House was limping towards him, not saying anything, and Wilson turned and continued walking out into the back yard. He stopped in the middle of the yard and just slumped where he was standing, staring down at his shoes. He was aware of House standing next to him, leaning on his cane with both hands and just waiting.

“I don’t know... if I can deal with this,” Wilson murmured.

House’s hands appeared in his field of vision and Wilson knew his cane would be propped against one hip.

Give them time. It’s a shock.

Wilson looked up and gave a small, rather wry smile. “You’re being understanding? Who are you and what have you done with House?”

House grinned and snickered. Enjoy it. It’s not going to last, he signed.

Wilson gave a small huff of laughter, all he could manage at the moment, and leaned against House. He felt the movement as House snorted then he was being drawn into an embrace. He went willingly, wanting the reassurance right now. They stayed like that for several minutes then Wilson suddenly felt House tense and turn his head. He winced into House’s shoulder, not really wanting to deal with this and heard the rumble of House speaking. It wasn’t until House poked him in the ribs that he looked over towards the house though he steadfastly refused to move.

His father was staring at them with a look of surprise and mild discomfort and, when he looked at House, his lover was staring back at his father defiantly.

“Dad?” Wilson said hesitantly.

His father stared at them for a moment longer then he sighed. “Your mother would like to speak to you.”

Wilson frowned, not having quite caught that, and House freed one hand and used their sign language to pass on the message. Wilson grimaced and nodded before reluctantly pulling away from House. They walked back to the house, his father watching them as they approached then leading the way back into the living room. They sat down on the sofa again and waited while Wilson’s father sat down next to his wife. Wilson looked over at his mother and was relieved to see that she wasn’t crying any more though her eyes were rimmed with red and she was clutching a tissue in one hand.

There was a moment where nobody spoke or moved then the questions began. House translated all of them though Wilson was able to pick up most through lip-reading. He still watched House’s hands though, partly because House had a tendency to add little comments of his own that made him struggle not to laugh and partly because he just liked watching House’s hands. Some of the questions were easy to answer but others were much, much harder and some he almost resented being asked but accepted when House pointed out that his parents were just being... parents.

Finally his mother seemed to be satisfied... upset but satisfied and she smiled at him. That was when his father decided to drop his bombshell.

“So how long have you and Greg been together?”

House paused before sighing and signing the question and Wilson winced. His mother stared at her husband then back at her son and House.

“James?” she said weakly. “What is your father talking about?”

Tell the truth, House signed with a sour look on his face. Better to get all the shocks over and done with. Besides they’re more likely to let this slide right now because they’re still in shock and feeling sorry for you.

That’s cynical, he signed back.

House snorted and grinned briefly at him. You are talking to me, you know.

Wilson gave a small laugh then looked over at his parents.

“Not long,” he said in answer to his father’s question, hoping his voice was as firm as he wanted it to be. It was hard to tell without being able to hear it. “Though I suppose in some ways the answer should be ‘a long time’.”

His father sighed and looked resigned and slightly discomforted but he was surprised to see a small, pleased smile break out on his mother’s face.

Your mother is a strange woman, House signed with a tiny half-smile on his face.

I’d object but you’re right, Wilson replied with an answering smile.

“James, are you happy?” his mother asked quietly.

Wilson hadn’t been looking at his mother but House had heard the question. He prodded Wilson in the ribs and signed the question before pointing at Wilson’s mother.

Wilson looked over at his mother and smiled slightly. In spite of everything, he actually was happy. House wasn’t letting him wallow in self-pity which he might have done otherwise, instead he was poking him and prodding and pushing him into dealing with what had happened and moving on. Wilson thought that attitude was somewhat ironic considering House’s stubborn insistence on wallowing in his own pain but well... that was an issue to deal with when he had come to grips with own situation. He shook those thoughts from his mind and answered his mother’s question.

“Yes, I am.”





Title: That'll Do
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 096. Fair
Word Count: 815
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

“That’s not fair!” House whined, trying not to sound like a four year old and failing miserably.

“Life isn’t fair, Dr House,” Cuddy said flatly. “You have two choices. You can either take leave voluntarily or I will put you on administrative leave. Either way you are not setting foot in this hospital for two weeks.”

“What?” House protested. “Why?”

Cuddy rolled her eyes. “House, you’ve been impossible for the last three weeks. You’ve driven Dr Cameron to tears three times in the last five days. Dr Chase has taken to hiding in the ER and Dr Foreman has threatened to either resign or strangle you and I’m not sure if he was serious on either score or not. I don’t know what’s wrong with you; I don’t want to know what’s wrong. But you’ve got two weeks to sort it out. Now go back to your office, pack your bag and get out of here. If you’re not gone in half an hour, I will have security remove you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave House an implacable glare. She kept that glare on her face as House whined and complained then she shifted her weight slightly and tapped her watch pointedly. House scowled her for a long moment but she didn’t relent, he abruptly turned and limped out of the office. Cuddy watched him limp towards the lifts and gave a sigh of relief as she relaxed. She hadn’t been entirely sure she was going to win that argument. Thankfully she had since the main thing this hospital needed right now was a lack of House. Foreman wasn’t the only one making little voodoo models of the man and sticking pins into it. She sighed and walked back to her desk and sat down. As she picked up the phone, she kept an eye on her watch. She hadn’t been kidding about the half hour time limit and she would have security throw House out if it became necessary.

House stormed out of the lift as best as he could and headed for his office, his furious scowl making more than one person prudently leap out of his way. He yanked the door of his office open and limped inside, snatching up his bag and stuffing a few things inside. Once he was done he grabbed his cane and glanced towards the conference room where his ducklings were rather studiously not looking at him. He was tempted to go in there and really make their lives a misery but abruptly decided not to. He knew Cuddy well enough to know that she actually was serious about the security thing and he wasn’t in the mood to put himself through that kind of humiliation just for the hell of it.

He threw his bag over his shoulder and limped out of his office, slamming the door behind him so hard that the glass rattled. He limped back to the lifts and from there out of the hospital. When he got home, he hurled his bag into a corner and got a beer from the fridge before sitting down on the bench on front of the piano. He plunked the beer on the top of the piano and rubbed his forehead with one hand as he sighed wearily.

“You know this sort of thing wouldn’t happen if you could just learn to say ‘I’m sorry’, even if it isn’t with words,” Wilson said, his voice a mix of exasperation, weariness and wry amusement.

House gave a start and turned on the piano bench. Wilson was leaning in the doorway that lead to his bedroom and his face and body language reflected what was in his voice.

“A bit hard when you keep avoiding me,” House said harshly, swallowing his urge to just limp over and shove Wilson against the wall and kiss him until they both forgot about what had happened.

Wilson sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.

“Yeah, I suppose,” he said at the end of the sigh. “But you’ve never had trouble finding me whenever you’ve really wanted to.”

House shrugged and stared down at his shoes. Silence fell in the room for a moment then he looked back over at Wilson. He grabbed his cane and levered himself to his feet, limping over to the other side of the room. He gently shoved Wilson against the wall and leaned in, pressing his entire body against his lover’s before capturing Wilson’s mouth with his own. He gently nibbled on Wilson’s bottom lip then licked it before pulling back and resting his forehead against Wilson’s shoulder.

“Will that do?” he said, his exhaustion from days of frustration and anger and lack of sleep starting to show through.

He felt Wilson’s hands come up and start gently stroking his back then Wilson said softly, “Yeah, that’ll do.”





Title: Sometimes You Lose
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 097. Allergy
Word Count: 438
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

House came storming into Wilson’s office and flopped down on the sofa, tapping his cane on the floor sullenly. Wilson looked up from the paperwork he was doing and raised an eyebrow, a tiny smile growing on his face.

“5.8. 5.9. 6.0 from the East German judge. A truly remarkable performance,” he murmured, amusement gleaming in his eyes.

A smile flickered across House’s face then he promptly scowled again and tapped his cane against the floor even harder.

Wilson put his pen down and rested his arms on his desk.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” he said, his amusement more open. “What’s wrong?”

House slumped even further on the couch and almost pouted as he glared at the floor.

“It was an allergy,” he muttered.

Wilson quickly smothered his smile before House could catch him.

“So Foreman was right then,” he observed mildly.

The scowl came right on cue and Wilson somehow managed to simply look interested and slightly innocent.

“I thought you’d be pleased,” Wilson said when House continued to sulk. “I thought the whole of idea of having Fellows was to ensure they learnt something. You know, became competent doctors.”

He knew he was essentially poking a wounded bear but he was fairly confident that House wouldn’t do anything too permanent to him.

“You want to go back to sleeping on the sofa?” House said belligerently.

Wilson simply raised an eyebrow. “You’d really cut your own nose off to spite your face?”

“Maybe I like my face spited,” House growled.

“Uhuh,” Wilson said with patent disbelief. “So what did you lose in the bet?”

House grumbled under his breath and scowled at the floor again.

“He gets to take the lead on our next case,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Wilson asked, not entirely sure he’d heard that correctly.

“I said he gets to take the lead on our next case,” House said acidly, enunciating each word with a sour sneer.

Wilson quickly turned his laugh into a cough when House glared at him.

“You were that sure?” he said, his lips quivering with the suppressing laugh.

House grumbled under his breath again and Wilson closed the file on his desk and got to his feet. He grabbed his suit coat and walked around to stand in front of House.

“Come on,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll take you home and blow your mind. Maybe that’ll make it all seem a bit better.”

Another smile flickered across House’s face and he slowly pushed himself to his feet.

“You never know. It might help,” he said as he followed Wilson out of the office.





Title: Cracking Up
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 098. Table
Word Count: 377
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

There was a crack in the glass table in the Diagnostic Medicine conference room. It wasn’t a very big crack, in fact it was barely visible from most angles, but Wilson’s eyes always found it every time he walked into the room. He always saw it and he always blushed. Because he knew how that crack got there and he was very, very sure that House’s Fellows would not want to know about it. Because if they did, they’d probably want to know how it got there and there was no way on God’s green earth that Wilson was going to tell them.

He’d known it was a bad idea when House suggested it but the combination of the lust-filled look House had given him, his own perverse little fantasies about semi-public sex and the hand that had been groping his crotch had reduced his objections to a dull murmur in the back of his mind. He’d made sure the blinds had been drawn and the doors locked before they started but he hadn’t really taken into account the fact that a glass-topped table might not be the best place for indulging in what might be termed a strenuous activity.

He hadn’t noticed the crack until he’d been cleaning the table, erasing the obvious evidence of what he and House had just done. He’d been half-distracted by the pleasurable ache in his arse and the lazy, languid but still snarky comments House was making from where he was sprawled in a chair and had nearly missed it. But he’d caught sight of the crack out of the corner of his eye and frozen. He knew it hadn’t been there before they started but he hadn’t heard anything while they were... busy. But there it was, running along the middle of the table for about four inches. He’s taken a deep breath and stepped back, noticing absently that it wasn’t so obvious when you weren’t leaning over the table and looking down directly at it.

House had noticed his sudden distraction but when he’d been told, he’d just laughed, made a few lewd remarks and dismissed it. But Wilson wasn’t able to do that... particularly when he noticed Foreman suddenly stare hard at the table and frown thoughtfully.





Title: Ruminations
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 099. Early
Word Count: 702
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes: This is something of an interlude in the series that includes Prompt 093. Silence - Sounds of Silence, Prompt 094. Night - By My Side and Prompt 095. Cry - Meet The Parents. Also - italics indicate the speech is being signed. Oh, and don't forget to follow the link in the fic to read the little comment scene written by pinglederry that I just had to include. *grins*

Wilson woke slowly, smiling with his eyes still closed at the warm weight against his back and the arm that was wrapped around his waist. He could feel House’s soft breaths on the back of his neck and he was sorely tempted just to drift back to sleep. He opened his eyes and glanced at the clock in the early morning light. Seeing that it was not all that long until he would normally get up, he carefully slid out of House’s embrace, turning just in time to see the other man’s sleepy murmur even though he couldn’t hear it.

Wilson walked over to the window and leaned against the frame, looking out into the street for a moment then turning to watch House. His lover had taken the opportunity to sprawl over into the warmth he’d created and Wilson smiled almost involuntarily.

The last couple of months had been in turns painful, difficult, exhausting, depressing and miserable. But they’d also been challenging, full of achievement and at time utterly hilarious. He tended to blame the accident for the first set of adjectives and give House the credit for the second set. Not that House had been overly different from his usual snarky, sarcastic attitude; it’s just that he’d somehow made it easier to adjust to being deaf in the middle of all of that.

Wilson’s favourite thing, which many people wouldn’t expect of him, was the bastardised one-handed version of sign language that House had worked out. It was kind of a work in progress since they always had to come up with new signs as their vocabulary expanded. House had been driving their teacher to distraction, wanting to know the signs for various words. The teacher kept insisting that they would get to those words in time and that the basics should be learnt first but House would just keep whining... and how he could manage to whine in sign language was beyond Wilson’s understanding... until he got his own way. But what made their private sign language so much fun was that no one else could understand it. Even those who knew ASL were baffled by what they were saying.

It was kind of like being twelve again…not that he’d ever been that devious at that age. They had their own secret language that they could use under everyone’s noses to make each other laugh and, in his case, blush. It was certainly driving Cuddy up the wall. Just the other day they’d driven her to distraction and it had had that naughty feeling of getting one up on the principal about it.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the sight of House shifting on the bed as he woke, one hand stretching out and searching for something. The lack of what he was searching for woke him more fully and he shifted onto his side before catching sight of Wilson standing near the window.

“Exhibitionist,” he said clearly as he gave a small half-smile.

Wilson caught that word and laughed. “You’re complaining?”

House’s smile became more genuine. No, he signed one-handed. Come back to bed.

Wilson shook his head. “We have to get up soon anyway.”

House raised an eyebrow. Come back to bed.

Wilson rolled his eyes. “Why?”

House’s smile became decidedly wicked. I’ll make it worth your while.

Recent experience caused Wilson’s dick to twitch at that smile and the subsequent widening of the smile told him that House had seen it. Wilson surrendered at that point since he was certain arguing was not only pointless but also would fall into the category of cutting of his nose to spite his face.

“Well, if you insist,” he said casually as he sauntered back towards the bed.

House shifted onto his back and watched with interest, desire and amusement in his eyes.

You never used to be this easy to convince, he signed before he grabbed Wilson’s wrist and pulled him down onto the bed.

Wilson went with it, catching himself on one hand so that he didn’t fall onto House’s thigh, then he freed one hand and signed back with a grin that matched his lover’s.

You never gave me a reason as good as this.





Title: Jailbird
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 100. Criminal
Word Count: 1317
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

House sat on the floor in the corner of the holding cell and tapped his cane against the concrete floor. His expression was one of sour disgust and his gaze occasionally flickered to two of the other holding cells where two men were lying on their backs in drunken stupors, snoring loudly.

“House?”

House looked up at the sound of Wilson’s voice and saw his friend standing outside the cell, looking at him with confusion and vague disapproval.

“Don’t start,” House snapped, levering himself to his feet with a pained grunt. “This is not my fault. Just get me out of here.”

“Uh, they won’t let me,” Wilson said, his confusion growing. “They said they were waiting for a fax from Los Angeles. House? What’s going on?”

House’s sour expression grew as he limped over to the bars.

“Dumb and Dumber over there started a fight in a bar,” he growled, gesturing with his thumb towards the two sleeping men.

“You got involved in a fight,” Wilson said with flat disapproval.

“Of course not,” House said with a glare. “Do I look like I was involved in a fight?” Wilson opened his mouth to answer but House just kept going. “When the police arrived, one of them took one look at me and arrested me. They think I’m some kind of criminal from Los Angeles.”

Wilson blinked. “They what? You’re joking, aren’t you?”

House’s scowl became incendiary. “Do I look like I’m joking?” he snarled, gesturing to the holding cell with his free hand.

“Ah, okay,” Wilson said soothingly. “I’ll just... go and speak to the detective who directed me here. I’m sure I can get this sorted out.”

“You’d better,” House said sourly.

Wilson thought better of answering that and walked back down the corridor. House limped back to where he’d been sitting and slowly lowered himself to the floor again. They’d taken everything in his pockets, including his Vicodin, and the alcohol he’d drunk had long ago worn off. The pain in his leg was starting to overwhelm him and he just wanted to get out of here before he did something to really earn a night in a cell.

He sat there on the floor, tapping his cane on the concrete and unconsciously clenching and unclenching his other hand, for nearly half an hour before Wilson finally came back. This time he was accompanied by a policeman who unlocked the door of the cell then eyed him curiously when he didn’t get up.

“House? Come on,” Wilson said with a frown. “The fax came through and it’s pretty damn obvious the man they’re looking for isn’t you. Let’s get out of here.”

House scowled down at his shoes and muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” Wilson asked.

House’s scowl deepened and he glared at Wilson with a mix of anger, frustration and helplessness.

“I don’t know if I can get up,” he said acidly. “They took everything out of my pockets and I’ve been here for quite a while.”

It took a moment for that to sink in then Wilson’s eyes widened. He turned to the policeman who was still standing them, watching them both like they were the most interesting thing he’d encountered that evening.

“Get his things,” Wilson snapped in a voice House had only heard him use during emergencies at the hospital.

House was marginally amused to see the cop snap into action as smartly as Wilson’s nurses. The moment the cop disappeared, Wilson walked into the cell and crouched down next to House.

“If I offer to help you, are you actually going to accept it for once in your life or are you going to be your usual pig-headed, stupid, stubborn self?” he said with exasperation.

“You’re such a sweet-talker,” House griped. “No wonder you get all the women.”

He hesitated for a moment then reluctantly held out one hand. He’d much rather have gotten to his feet on his own but he really didn’t want to wait for the stupid cop to get back with his things and then wait for the damn pill to kick in. Besides, the cold concrete floor was probably going to give him piles if he sat here for too much longer.

Wilson gave him a small smile then stood up and took the pro-offered hand. Between the two of them, they got House to his feet and leaning back against the wall. House hung his head as pain rippled through him from his thigh and he eased all of his weight onto his good leg, clutching his cane tightly with one hand and Wilson’s arm with the other.

“Uh, what were you after? Or should I get a doctor?”

They both looked up to see the cop standing in the doorway, a brown paper bag in his hand and a slightly startled look on his face as he saw the amount of pain House was in.

“We are doctors,” Wilson snapped. “Give me that.”

He gently extricated himself from House’s grasp and grabbed the bag, reaching in and pulling out the small orange bottle. He opened it and shook out a pill before hesitating and evaluating House for a moment. He then shook out a second and offered them to his friend.

House gave Wilson a long look. “Two, Dr Wilson?” he said sardonically.

“I don’t like it but you’re not going to make it out of here upright any other way,” Wilson said, his lips thinning with disapproval.

House conceded the point with a snort. He reached out and grabbed the pills, dry-swallowing them then leaning back against the wall as he waited desperately for them to kick in. It took nearly twenty minutes before he felt the first easing of the pain rippling through him and he looked up and nodded briefly to Wilson. His friend had spent the entire time watching him, standing absolutely still in stark contrast to the young cop who was still standing in the door of the cell, shifting nervously from one foot to the other and looking indecisive.

“Let’s get out of here,” House said. “Before I really do collapse.”

Wilson nodded then turned towards the door.

“You might want to move or we’re going to have a little difficulty getting out of here,” he said acerbically.

The cop quickly skittered out of the door and watched with wary eyes as Wilson followed House out of the cell. House simply concentrated of staying upright as he limped down the corridor and through the station, letting Wilson direct him with gentle touches and quiet words. Once they were in the car, House let himself slump into the front seat, listening absently as Wilson threw the bag containing his belongings into the back seat and settled down in the driver’s seat. He gave a start when he felt a warm hand on his arm and looked over at Wilson.

“You okay?” Wilson asked, his worry and concern plain to see. “Anything you want?”

House nodded, the drugs now having fully kicked in. The pain had receded to a dull throb and his brain was full of haze.

“Home,” he said, his voice slightly slurred. “Bed. You.”

Wilson blinked and gave him a startled look. “What?”

House closed his eyes slowly as he realised what his drugged brain had just made him say then he opened them again with a mental shrug.

He gave Wilson a slow half-smile. “You heard me.”

“Yes,” Wilson admitted, sounding stunned. “And you’re drugged.”

House shrugged loosely. “Maybe. Still mean it.”

Wilson stared at him again then abruptly turned away and started the car. He pulled out of the parking spot and drove away from the police station, very determinedly paying attention to the road. But House could practically see his mind running at top gear and he slowly smiled. They’d get back to his apartment then he’d see what happened.





Title: Playtime
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 101. Play
Word Count: 361
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

Wilson slunk out of Cuddy’s office, giving all the appearance of having his tail firmly between his legs, contrition written all over his face. He scuttled over to the lifts and pushed the button, looking around for House. There was no sign of the man until the lift doors opened then he suddenly appeared beside Wilson and they hustled into the lift. They were silent until the doors closed then they slumped against the back wall of the lift and burst out laughing.

Wilson looked over at House, his eyes twinkling and all his contrition gone, if it had ever existed in the first place.

“So which speech did you get?” House asked, his eyes full of humour and merriment. “The ‘I can’t believe you, you’re supposed to be a responsible adult’ one or the ‘I expect juvenile acts from House, not from you’ one.”

“Neither,” Wilson said with a grin. “I got the ‘I know House was behind this so stop covering for him’ speech.”

“You squealed on me?” House said, pretending to look hurt.

“It’s not squealing when she already knows you were involved,” Wilson said dryly. “But no, actually, I didn’t.”

“Aw, you’re my bestest friend,” House said, mugging slightly.

“And very gullible apparently,” Wilson said, still in that dry tone.

House laughed and started making plans for another prank as the doors to the lift opened. They walked out of the lift, Wilson smiling and nodding and making noises at the appropriate times as he mostly concentrated on watching his friend.

He loved watching House play. He used to do it a lot, dragging Wilson and sometimes even Stacy into whatever diabolical scheme he’d cooked up. Somehow they always seemed to have fun, even when they were running away or being chased.

But it didn’t happen as often these days and Wilson perversely missed it. So on those days when House would limp into his office and look at him with that mischievous gleam in his eyes, Wilson would always cave and agree. Oh, he’d put up a token protest because he was expected to but he’d always end up agreeing.

Because he liked watching House play.





Title: Nine
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 102. Numbered
Word Count: 259
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

When James Wilson was learning his numbers, he always remembered what a nine looked like because it was an upside-down six. He’d learnt that from looking at the numbers tattooed into his grandfather’s forearm. He hadn’t known what those numbers meant when he was a child and by the time he did understand, his grandfather had died. Only his family and House knew about that and oddly enough it was one of the few things that House never used to mock him. In fact he never mentioned it at all.

And he didn’t say anything when Wilson chose to spend time with Diagnostic Medicine’s current patient, an elderly man with numbers tattooed on his arm. He simply watched Wilson with unreadable eyes and neatly deflected any and all questions that came from his team.

When the elderly man died quietly in the early evening, only House was there. He’d sent the ducklings home when he figured out what was wrong and that there was nothing they could do. He’d closed the blinds and shut the door before propping himself against the wall in a corner and standing a silent sentinel. When the elderly man flat-lined, he silently limped over and turned off the machines. He then laid a quiet hand on Wilson’s shoulder, squeezing gently before limping out of the room.

Wilson stayed where he was, one hand gently gripping the slowly cooling hand of the elderly man. He looked down at the forearm in front of him and once again saw that a nine was an upside-down six.





Title: Break In
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 103. Fun
Word Count: 233
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

House turned and grinned at Wilson and he could nothing more than grin back as House disappeared down the corridor. He didn’t often see that look on House’s face these days; the one that was so gleeful and so full of mischief that only a fool wouldn’t realise that House was genuinely having fun. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it. And what he’d do to see it more often.

Which would certainly explain why he was standing in the front foyer of Dr Lisa Cuddy’s house at three in the afternoon while House did god only knows what in her bedroom.

Part of him wanted to follow House down the corridor and find out what he was up to but the other, louder part of him was demanding a certain amount of plausible deniability. What he didn’t know he didn’t have to lie to Cuddy about.

Wilson heard House start whistling jauntily and his grin slowly widened. Whatever House was doing, it was really very wrong and Wilson started to laugh. He was still laughing when House limped back down the corridor and when House gave him a look of amused curiosity he just started laughing harder.

House shook his head and limped towards the door, grabbing Wilson by the arm and dragging him out of the house.

“I knew it. All those little bald-headed kids have finally driven you insane.”





Title: First Time
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 104. Full
Word Count: 220
Rating: R
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

Wilson had never felt like this before. He felt... full. He felt other things as well, of course. Sweaty, happy, so unbelievably horny and turned on but he also felt oddly... full. They were lying on their sides and House was spooning him, pressed up against his back, his forehead resting against the back of Wilson’s neck. Wilson could feel House’s gasping breaths against his skin as he struggled to maintain control and his hands gripping his hips tight enough that there were going to be bruises there tomorrow.

He hadn’t expected to want this, let alone like it. And he did like it because slowly, slowly, the full feeling was fading and a feeling of yes, move, now was taking its place.

“Greg, please, move,” he moaned, startling himself with how wanton his voice sounded. He hadn’t known that he could ever sound like that.

House muttered something garbled that he didn’t bother to try and decipher then Wilson gasped as House withdrew slightly then slowly shoved back in, doing something that made pleasure shoot up his spine. He had a feeling that he made some kind of noise because he heard House give a filthy chuckle and repeat the action.

Wilson didn’t feel full anymore; he felt like he might just be able to learn how to fly.





Title: I'm Going With You
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 105. Pack
Word Count: 653
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes: This is another one in my little series of House/Supernatural crossovers. The others are: Prompt 050. Crime - The Past Comes A'Knocking, Prompt 065. Fast - Move Fast, Think Faster and the expansion

House limped into his apartment and let his backpack fall to the floor just inside the door, following it with his jacket in short order. He heard Wilson huff behind him and swallowed a grin as he continued into the living room.

“You’re too damn domestic,” he said idly over his shoulder as he saw the blinking light on his answering machine and headed over to push the button.

“You’re the one who...”

Wilson stuttered to a halt in his reply when John Winchester’s voice, sounding slightly tinny on the answering machine, filled the living room.

“Greg, it’s John. Something’s come up with my boys and I need to go and take care of a few things with them. I need favour from you. I was meant to go to a little town called Harrietsville about an hour and a half outside of Princeton. I can’t make it and I need you to take my place. There are werewolves there, Greg, and it’s getting serious. I don’t know how long I’ll be and they can’t wait. You know how to take care of werewolves. It’s not that difficult a job. I’m going to be out of contact for a while but leave me a message on my cell phone if you can’t handle it.”

He gave a number then the answering machine clicked off and a stunned silence filled the room.

“Goddamn son of a bitch!” House snarled as he hurled his cane violently across the room.

Wilson kept his mouth shut as he walked over and picked up the cane. He quickly checked that nothing had been broken then walked across the room and handed it to House.

“What are you going to do?” he asked quietly.

“How the fuck should I know?” House snarled.

Wilson was silent for a moment. “Is he right? Is dealing with werewolves easy?” He paused and snorted. “I can’t believe I actually asked that question seriously.”

House snorted. “Yeah, actually werewolves are pretty easy to kill,” he said sourly. “Silver bullets are all you need.”

“And you have silver bullets,” Wilson said.

House snorted again. “Of course I have silver bullets. I’d be a piss poor hunter if I didn’t.”

“So... we go to Harrietsville, kill the werewolves then come home,” Wilson said reasonably.

“Oh yes, because it’s going to be that easy,” House said sarcastically then he stopped and glared at Wilson. “And what the hell do you mean by ‘we’?”

“I’m coming with you,” Wilson said firmly.

“No, you’re not,” House replied flatly.

“Well, I’m not letting you go alone,” Wilson replied.

“Who says I’m going at all?” House growled.

Wilson was silent for a moment. “I know you, House. You’re angry at him but you’re going to go and do it anyway. And I’m coming with you.”

“It’s dangerous,” House snapped as he limped towards the bedroom. “A werewolf pack is always dangerous.”

“How is it anymore dangerous for me than you?” Wilson asked as he followed his lover.

“I know how to shoot. Do you?” House said bluntly.

Wilson paused then he sighed. “No. But you can teach me. Surely it can’t be too difficult?”

House gave him a sardonic look as he yanked the closet door open. “No, it’s not. Pull the trigger. Easy. It’s actually hitting something that’s the difficult bit.”

“I’m still coming with you,” Wilson said firmly.

House gave him a long look before he braced himself against the wall of the closet and yanked up the wooden panel on the floor. Underneath lay the metal box Wilson had seen before. House hauled it out with a grunt and a muttered curse.

“You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?” he said sourly.

“Yes... yes, I am,” Wilson replied.

House gave him another long look the he shrugged before turning away and opening the box.

“Don’t complain to me then when it gets dangerous,” he said tersely.





Title: Hair Today
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 106. Bleach
Word Count: 472
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

Wilson always hated Mondays. They were his busiest day. Catching up with everything that had happened over the weekend, new appointments made the previous week which invariably meant new patients... Mondays were always a bit of a circus.

But he wasn’t so busy that he didn’t notice when something strange was going on. There were a large number of people wandering along the corridor with slightly startled looks on their faces and House’s fellows looked like they’d been collectively smacked on the back of their heads with a board.

He’d watched all of this with a growing sense of trepidation, wondering exactly what it was that House had done now. But he didn’t actually go and find out until he saw Lisa Cuddy walking away from House’s office with an expression on her face that wasn’t exactly able to quantify. She sort of looked like she wanted to strangle someone, cry, laugh and faint all at once.

He’d sucked up his courage at that point and slowly wandered along the corridor until he got to House’s office and looked through the glass. House was sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen as though he was hoping he might develop heat vision and destroy the thing at any moment. But that wasn’t what caught Wilson’s attention. His jaw dropped and he hurried forward and pushed the door open.

“House,” he said slightly inarticulately.

House frowned at the computer screen and waved a hand in his direction. “Busy. Go away.”

“House... your hair,” Wilson said blankly.

House’s gaze flickered over to him for a moment and Wilson saw irritation, impatience and just a hint of embarrassment there before that gaze fixed itself firmly on the computer screen again.

“It’s on my head,” he snapped.

“It’s blond,” Wilson said, sounding rather stunned. “You bleached it.”

“I did not bleach it,” House snarled.

“House,” Wilson began then the wording of his friend’s retort sank in. “Who did?”

That got him a dark look and a scowl.

“Don’t ask,” came the terse response.

Wilson opened his mouth to speak but shut it quickly when House looked over and gave him a furious glare the likes of which he hadn’t received since the early days before they became friends.

“I said don’t ask,” House growled and Wilson actually took a step backwards.

He stared at House’s almost white-blond hair and suddenly had to swallow the urge to laugh. As it was a snicker managed to escape and he suddenly found himself on the end of another death glare from House.

“I’ll, um... I’ve got... a lot of work to do,” Wilson said hastily before he scurried out of House’s office and into his own.

Once he had the door firmly closed, he collapsed onto the sofa and laughed. Maybe Monday’s weren’t all that bad after all.





Title: Trailing
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 107. String
Word Count: 316
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

The first thing House noticed when he walked into his apartment was the piece of string tied to the inside handle of the door and leading into the apartment, looped over handles and around lamps. He stared at it as though it was some kind of illusion that was going to disappear if he didn’t keep an eye on it and he had a bizarre momentary flashback to his thirteenth birthday when he got his first real bicycle. A red ten speed bike that he’d crashed into Mrs Grady’s yard three months later when he’d misjudged a turn and ended up trashing the bike and breaking his arm. He’d woken up on the morning of his birthday to find a piece of string tied to his bedroom door which followed through the house, winding through room after room, until he reached the laundry where the bike had been standing.

He dropped his backpack on the floor and stripped off his leather jacket, letting it fall on top of the backpack. He eyed the string suspiciously for a moment then trailed a finger along it as he followed it into the apartment.

The first place the string led to was the kitchen where it was looped around the handle of one of the drawers. Just above the drawer sat a covered plate and a bottle of beer. House gave a small smile and uncovered the plate. Once he’d eaten his dinner and finished the beer, he followed the string once again.

This time it looped around the living room then led into the bedroom, looping once around the handle of the door before falling to the floor and leading across the floor to the bed. The end of the string was loosely looped around Wilson’s erect cock.

“This is a better present than what I got last time I did this,” he said with a small smile.





Title: Pandemic
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 108. Flu
Word Count: 390
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes: Warning: Multiple character deaths!

House always hated the flu season. Flu season meant that the clinic was full of coughing, snotty, whining people demanding a miracle cure which just didn’t exist. He palmed as many of his clinic hours as he could. Cameron was always a soft touch but Chase could be just as easily manipulated and he even managed to finagle Foreman into doing a few hours as well. However in spite of that, House still spent what was in his opinion far too many hours in the clinic.

He stopped thinking that after the third flu patient he’d seen died. They were all in their twenties and prior to getting the flu, completely healthy. They shouldn’t have died.

For once he didn’t have any trouble convincing Cuddy that they had an epidemic on their hands. Mostly because six more cases of the flu were admitted about ten minutes before he spoke to her.

It took two days for the CDC to identify which strain of the flu they were dealing and in that time thirty-four more flu patients were admitted. One of them was Chase.

It was the same strain of the flu that had devastated the world in 1918. That attacked the young and healthy with as much, if not more, virulence than the very old and very young.

The next day 48 more cases of the flu were admitted, forcing them to open up two sections of the hospital that had been closed a year ago. One of those cases was Foreman. And Chase died that afternoon, drowning in the fluid in his own lungs.

When Cameron was admitted just hours after Foreman died, House went from frantic to frenetic in his work, ignoring everyone who told him to get some rest. He only stopped when Wilson collapsed in his office with the first signs of the flu.

He sat by Wilson’s bed as his friend whimpered and moaned and burned his way through the virus and when it became obvious that this was a battle that Wilson was going to lose, House leaned over and kissed him.

When Wilson died, House rose from his chair and limped back to his office. He closed the blinds and locked the doors. He was fairly certain he was thoroughly exposed to the virus and he settled back into his armchair to wait.





Title: A Clue
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 109. Court
Word Count: 223
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

Wilson and House were in the middle of dinner at a nice restaurant that had opened only a couple of weeks ago when Wilson suddenly looked down at his plate then back up at House. His eyes widened as realisation flooded through him and he blinked.

“You’re courting me,” he blurted out in surprise.

House rolled his eyes and swallowed his mouthful of pasta. “Took you long enough.”

“I... what?” Wilson yelped.

“I was starting to think I was going to have to strip you down and blow you before you bought a clue,” House said blandly though there was a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

Wilson sputtered at that then blushed as the image got stuck in his mind, replaying itself several times with a different place and circumstance each time. By the time he’d managed to shake the visual loose from his brain, House was watching him with open amusement and a hint of lust.

“You liked that idea,” the older man said with a smug satisfaction what Wilson almost found offensive until he remembered who he was dealing with.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely, his eyes dropping to his plate again.

“Well then, finish your dinner, Jimmy,” House said, his smirk audible in his voice. “And we’ll see how close reality gets to what was running through your mind just then.”





Title: Persuasion
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 110. Succeed
Word Count: 251
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:None

Wilson stood at the end of the hospital bed, leaning on the frame and watching the sleeping man with weariness, satisfaction and just a little bit of pride.

“James.”

Wilson looked over at the quiet call from the doorway and saw Lisa Cuddy standing there, eyeing him curiously. He walked over and guided her out of the room, closing the door behind them. They walked over to a low sofa set against the opposite wall and sat down.

“You looked... pleased,” Cuddy said, her curiosity still obvious.

“I am,” Wilson replied. “He did it.”

Cuddy looked blank for a moment then she smiled. “Really?”

“The whole way... all on his own,” Wilson said with a matching smile. “Though not without a great deal of bitching.”

Cuddy laughed. “Well, that sounds almost normal. How did you manage it?”

She was surprised when the man sitting next to her suddenly blushed.

“Ah... persuasion,” he said.

Cuddy raised an eyebrow, wondering what had prompted the blush. “Pretty good persuasion,” she said lightly.

She was amused to see the blush deepen and her speculations increased. Just what had Wilson offered to House to get him to behave while he was doing his physical therapy?

“House seemed to think so,” Wilson said, trying to be casual and only partly making it there.

Cuddy patted Wilson on the knee and rose. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Hopefully your powers of persuasion continue to be enough.”

“So do I,” Wilson muttered as he watched Cuddy walk away.





Title: Business Arrangement
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 111. Business
Word Count: 978
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes: This is another one in my little series of House/Supernatural crossovers. The others are: Prompt 050. Crime - The Past Comes A'Knocking, Prompt 065. Fast - Move Fast, Think Faster, the expansion and Prompt 105. Pack - I'm Going With You

They drove into Harrietsville early on Saturday morning, the sky a riot of reds, oranges and yellows as the sun rose. Mick Jagger was wailing on the radio and Wilson was more than a little nervous.

“Tell me again why we had to use the Corvette?” he said, turning the radio down.

“Because I’m doing the driving and I’m not driving your car,” House replied shortly.

Wilson sighed; House had been grumpy and terse the entire time they’d been on the road. He was getting more than a little tired of it.

“No, seriously,” he said.

House shot him a quick glare. “Because I modified the trunk to take my weapons case,” he snapped. “Also this car’s cooler. People aren’t going to notice us; they’re going to notice the car. Or if they do notice us, it’ll be as the two guys who drove the ‘Vette, not anything else.”

“Oh,” Wilson said, caught a little off guard by House’s answer.

Silence fell again until they pulled into a motel. The place made Wilson wince a little; it wasn’t the cheapest place in town but it probably wasn’t far off it. It was the kind of place where you weren’t entirely sure you were going to walk away entirely alone and he didn’t mean that he’d be leaving with House.

“Um... why here?” he asked, trying to hide his distaste.

House snorted as he reached into the back seat and grabbed his cane. He hauled himself out of the car and shut the door with a bang.

“Stay there,” he snapped when Wilson made a move to join him. “And it’s this place because they don’t ask questions if you pay cash and don’t give a shit what their guests do as long as the police don’t get involved.”

With that House limped over to the office and Wilson watched as he checked them in, handing over cash in advance. The man behind the desk didn’t look surprised; in fact as far as Wilson could tell, he barely even acknowledged House. He even handed the key over without looking away from whatever it was he was reading.

House limped back to the car and lowered himself into the driver’s seat. They didn’t have far to go; their room was towards the back of the dingy complex and House parked right out the front.

Once they were inside, Wilson gingerly sat on one of the beds and looked over at House.

“Is it always like this?”

“No, sometimes I stay at the Ritz and eat caviar and drink champagne,” House said with deep sarcasm. “The concierge then points me in the direction of the nasty monster I have to kill while the valet holds my weapons for me.”

Wilson’s lips thinned and he glared at his lover. “Jesus Christ, House, what is your problem?”

House turned from where he’d been flicking through a tattered journal that he wouldn’t let Wilson look at and he returned the glare.

“My problem is you’re here,” he snarled. “You’re here asking stupid questions and thinking this is some kind of... adventure holiday! This is dangerous and you’re fucking here.”

Wilson’s eyes widened at that and his jaw dropped a fraction. House scowled at him and turned his back, his shoulders tense and hunched.

There was a tense silence in the room as Wilson took in what had just been said. It was the closest thing he’d ever had to a declaration of House’s feelings and part of him was revelling in it even as the rest of him was trying to figure out a way of calming House down.

“Look... I’m aware of how dangerous it is,” he said in a placating tone. “You’ve made that pretty plain. But did you ever think that maybe I’m just as worried about you as you are about me? You can’t move as well as you used to and... and I read your journal the other night. Werewolves are quick. Did you ever think that I came so that I could watch your back?”

House’s shoulders slumped and he slowly turned around again, leaning against the table and looking weary.

“I’m going to get you killed,” he said morosely.

Wilson looked startled and he got up and walked over to House. “No, you’re not. It seems to me that the best way to handle this is to treat it like it’s business. I’ll bet that’s the way you’ve always done it.”

House sighed and grimaced. “Yeah. Dean always described it as the family business. Seemed like a good attitude to take.”

“Then we’ll be business-like,” Wilson said firmly. “I’ll do what you say. I trust you to know what you’re doing. Trust me to follow orders?” He smiled wryly. “It’ll be just like doing my internship all over again.”

House gave him a long serious look then nodded. He continued to stare at Wilson, a smirk growing on his face.

“You’ll follow my orders, huh?” he said cheekily.

Wilson blushed. “Out there. Hunting,” he said pointedly.

“Aw, you’re no fun,” House said with a mock-pout. “I kind of like the idea of ordering you to strip and suck my cock until I feel the urge to fuck you into the bed.”

Wilson felt his dick twitch at the idea and he glared at House. “Quite frankly I’m not sure I want to sleep in those beds. Who knows what has been done in them.”

House limped forward, crowding Wilson until the backs of his legs hit the nearest bed.

“Probably lots and lots of sex,” he growled as he shoved Wilson down onto the bed. “We should keep the tradition going.”

“I thought we had work to do,” Wilson objected weakly as House stripped off his shirt.

“Later,” House replied. “Full moon’s tonight. The werewolves won’t come out to play until then. So we can play now.”





Title: For His Own Good
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 112. Deception
Word Count: 153
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Detox
Author's Notes:None

It’s for his own good, Wilson told himself as he talked Cuddy into making the bet with House.

He’s a drug addict. He needs to acknowledge that before he kills himself. It’s for his own good, he told himself as House started to show signs of detoxing and he was searching for the number of the masseuse.

He told himself this several times over the next couple of days as he watched House try to detox and cure a patient at the same time and seemingly failing at both.

But when House came to him, sweating, limping heavily and holding his bruised and broken hand to his chest, Wilson knew two things.

First, that this whole thing had been a mistake. He’d never meant to force House into a situation where he was breaking his own hand. And the second... that he would never dare to tell House it was all his idea.