Drabble: House M.D.
I was chatting with thisbirdcansing about plot ideas for a House fic last night. And, because I'm masochistic, I decided to drabble this up.
"Ugh, egg salad. I hate egg salad," Greg House muttered, poking through the stack of wrapped sandwiches in the Princeton-Plainsboro cafeteria. "Do you know anyone who even eats this stuff?"
James Wilson threw a peanut butter sandwich at him. "Here. Happy?"
"Is this a fluffernutter?"
Wilson sighed, grabbing a fruit cup. "You know, I offered to make you lunch, but you didn't want it."
"I never said that."
"No, because you were too busy stuffing your face with pancakes," Wilson retorted. The two doctors shuffled towards the register, Wilson pulling out his wallet to pay, as usual, for his and House's lunches.
"I've got this one," House said, throwing a twenty at the cashier.
Wilson stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"I said I've got this one. Do I need to check you for hearing loss?"
"But...but you never pay!" Wilson sputtered.
House shrugged, or as best as one can shrug when one is trying to balance a cafeteria tray, handle monetary transactions, and keep a firm grip on a cane. "Consider this a freebie. Besides, you're going to need all that money for your alimony payments."
"Don't even talk about that," Wilson muttered, staking out a table. "But...thanks, House, I appreciate it."
"Let's not turn this into a hugfest."
++
Wilson strolled past the ducklings shortly after lunch, as Cameron, Chase, and Foreman stood in the hallway discussing treatment strategies on their current patient. He was grinning to himself, looking ridiculously happy for a man who was about to go deliver biopsy results to a breast cancer patient.
"What's with him?" Cameron asked, lowering her clipboard.
Foreman shrugged. "Looks like he's been huffing the nitrous oxide."
"I'd expect that from House, not Wilson," Cameron retorted. "Nah, he looks...satisfied..."
"More like he's just had a great shag," Chase suggested.
Foreman arched an eyebrow. "So Wilson gets a little lunch break supply closet nookie. Who from?"
House limped by moments later, bearing a similar oddly satisfied grin. If any of the ducklings cared to pay attention, they'd notice he was humming to himself as well, something that sounded suspiciously like the greatest hits of The Who.
"You don't think..." Cameron said.
"House and Wilson?" Foreman asked. "No way. No."
Chase shrugged. "I've seen stranger."
++
Exactly seven-point-three minutes after that, Cuddy burst into House's office. "What's this I hear about you and Wilson having sex on a cafeteria table?!"
House looked up from his whiteboard. "...I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that, and it's just the side effects of mixing Vicodin with fluffernutter. Now if you'll excuse me, I was trying to decide which of these three potentially terminal illnesses to treat our patient for."
Cuddy stormed out in a huff, her chest heaving.
"God," House sighed, circling what he believed was the most likely candidate. "And people think I'm the crazy one."
It's not the most fabulous thing I've ever written, and I've never done House before, but hey, I'll try just about anything once.
"Ugh, egg salad. I hate egg salad," Greg House muttered, poking through the stack of wrapped sandwiches in the Princeton-Plainsboro cafeteria. "Do you know anyone who even eats this stuff?"
James Wilson threw a peanut butter sandwich at him. "Here. Happy?"
"Is this a fluffernutter?"
Wilson sighed, grabbing a fruit cup. "You know, I offered to make you lunch, but you didn't want it."
"I never said that."
"No, because you were too busy stuffing your face with pancakes," Wilson retorted. The two doctors shuffled towards the register, Wilson pulling out his wallet to pay, as usual, for his and House's lunches.
"I've got this one," House said, throwing a twenty at the cashier.
Wilson stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"I said I've got this one. Do I need to check you for hearing loss?"
"But...but you never pay!" Wilson sputtered.
House shrugged, or as best as one can shrug when one is trying to balance a cafeteria tray, handle monetary transactions, and keep a firm grip on a cane. "Consider this a freebie. Besides, you're going to need all that money for your alimony payments."
"Don't even talk about that," Wilson muttered, staking out a table. "But...thanks, House, I appreciate it."
"Let's not turn this into a hugfest."
++
Wilson strolled past the ducklings shortly after lunch, as Cameron, Chase, and Foreman stood in the hallway discussing treatment strategies on their current patient. He was grinning to himself, looking ridiculously happy for a man who was about to go deliver biopsy results to a breast cancer patient.
"What's with him?" Cameron asked, lowering her clipboard.
Foreman shrugged. "Looks like he's been huffing the nitrous oxide."
"I'd expect that from House, not Wilson," Cameron retorted. "Nah, he looks...satisfied..."
"More like he's just had a great shag," Chase suggested.
Foreman arched an eyebrow. "So Wilson gets a little lunch break supply closet nookie. Who from?"
House limped by moments later, bearing a similar oddly satisfied grin. If any of the ducklings cared to pay attention, they'd notice he was humming to himself as well, something that sounded suspiciously like the greatest hits of The Who.
"You don't think..." Cameron said.
"House and Wilson?" Foreman asked. "No way. No."
Chase shrugged. "I've seen stranger."
++
Exactly seven-point-three minutes after that, Cuddy burst into House's office. "What's this I hear about you and Wilson having sex on a cafeteria table?!"
House looked up from his whiteboard. "...I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that, and it's just the side effects of mixing Vicodin with fluffernutter. Now if you'll excuse me, I was trying to decide which of these three potentially terminal illnesses to treat our patient for."
Cuddy stormed out in a huff, her chest heaving.
"God," House sighed, circling what he believed was the most likely candidate. "And people think I'm the crazy one."
It's not the most fabulous thing I've ever written, and I've never done House before, but hey, I'll try just about anything once.