Sneezy and Doc
Title: Sneezy and Doc
Author: rslworks
Prompt: Wilson can’t stop sneezing.
Pairing: none
Category: hurt/comfort
Rating/Warnings: PG
Words: 1936
Summary: House has amazing hands…
Disclaimer: Property of David Shore
(Beta:) none
A/N: Thanks to xgraciela for allowing a last minute substitution.
Wilson looked up at the ascending numbers in the elevator through bleary eyes. An open box of tissues peeked out of his soft-covered briefcase and he snatched another one in the nick of time.
“Aaa-choo! Aaa-choo! Aaa-choo!” He held his body tensely, trying to rein in the intensity of his sneezes, standing as he was in the elevator with two ICU nurses, a resident and Lou the janitor close behind him.
“Bless you,” said one of the nurses.
“Thanks,” he muttered, wiping his runny eyes. “I’m not sick, don’t worry,” he added for everyone’s benefit as the doors opened and he left the elevator. He swept past Diagnostics, where only Foreman sat reading, and opened his office for the day.
At 10:30 am he stalked into House’s office and stood in the doorway to the conference room, causing the entire team to abruptly stop brainstorming and stare.
House turned from the whiteboard to see why a hush had descended and saw a rather dishevelled, watery-eyed oncologist wearing a frantic expression and sporting a very reddened nose.
“House! Can I see you for a minute, please?”
House was intensely curious, but made no move toward Wilson. He looked at his team then back at his friend.
“I’m pretty sure they’re gonna find out---”
“Aa-choo! Aa-choo! Aa-choo! Ow!” Wilson wrapped his arms around his ribcage and leaned heavily on the door frame.
“Allergies?” offered Thirteen.
Wilson wiped his mouth and took a shaky breath. “No.”
“Sinus congestion?” tried Taub.
“No! Please, House?” Wilson pleaded.
House made a show of rolling his eyes, but quickly ushered Wilson into his office and offered him the comfy chair. Wilson sank down, and then sat very still, suddenly pinching his nostrils together and closing his eyes.
“Don’t do that! Let it out or you might blow out your eustachian tubes,” House warned.
“I have to stop it somehow!” he replied, letting go nevertheless. Wrapping his arms around himself again, he fired off another succession of three---no, four sneezes.
House stopped observing and sat behind his desk. “When did this start? You seemed fine yesterday.”
“I know!” he groaned, dragging more tissue over his eyes. “It started suddenly while I was driving home. My nose started to burn and tickle and I just started sneezing rapid fire. It’s been going on all night. I might get fifteen minutes rest sometimes, then something sets it off. I was awake all night.”
“Interesting.”
“Interesting! Is that all you can say? I can’t work like this! I just came from surgery. I had a sneezing fit in my mask, three times!” he grasped the back of his neck and squeezed.
“I had to have an OR nurse replace my mask and wipe my nose for me until I could close the patient. Needless to say, I’ve begged off my afternoon procedure and given it to Roland.”
House couldn’t suppress a smirk at the image of some nurse wiping itty, bitty Wilson’s nose for him. “Well, did you try a Benadryl for God’s sake?”
Now Wilson rolled his eyes, producing a new series of sneezes.
“I tried Benadryl last night at home. I couldn’t take it before surgery. I only had the ‘drowsy’ kind. Besides, it didn’t help anyway.” He winced as he blew his nose. “I have got to get some quality tissues. Can you still get those 3-ply ones with the lotion in them?”
House shook his head. “You’re pathetic. No sinus problem? No other symptoms?”
“None. Except for the sore stomach muscles and burning eyes from all the violent sneezing.”
House rummaged in a desk drawer for a moment, then made his way over to Wilson.
“Lie back in the chair.”
“Why?” he asked, looking up at House and failing to hide some anxiety.
“Oh, for crying out loud! Lie back! I assume you came in here because you wanted my help with this?” He produced a penlight. “I want to see if there’s anything up there acting as an irritant.”
Any protest ended there, because Wilson truly did want help, but not before another painful set of sneezes overtook him.
“Sorry,” he muttered, eyes streaming.
House waited, playing with the switch on the penlight. “You wanna blow there, sport, so I’m not trying to look through a river of snot?”
After more blowing, Wilson settled back and allowed House to tilt his chin and peer up each nostril. After a minute or two, he clicked off the light and sat back. The team, either bored or curious themselves, had wandered in and were also waiting.
Wilson raised his brows. “Well?”
“That’s not gonna work. There’s so much mucosal inflammation you could have a gnat buzzing around up there and I’d miss it. I didn’t see any polyps, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something higher or in your sinus cavity. You need an endoscopy.” He announced, moving back to his desk.
“You want that ENT guy, Noviszky to do it, or us?” He winced and waited for his answer as Wilson had gone off again.
Taub actually took pity on the oncologist, who now sat forward groaning and clutching his ribs again. “It could take a couple of days to get even Wilson in with Noviszky. I kind of doubt he wants to wait that long.”
Thirteen had scooped a fresh box of Kleenex and brought it to Wilson, seeing he had only soggy ones left on him. Only a cold, heartless, puppy-kicking bastard could not take pity on him at this point.
Even House sighed. “You win, Wilson. Who do you want snaking a scope up your proboscis?”
“Well, I thought---”
“What’s that? Me, you say? Aw shucks, dude. I’m getting all choked up…Foreteen, you go do the echo on patient number one. Taub, book a room for ‘Sneezy’ here, and get us set up to do this ASAP.”
Wilson looked over at House, scrutinizing him with his red-rimmed eyes.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he accused.
“Is it that obvious, Sneezy?” He pulled his mock sympathy face. “Don’t worry, Doc’s here to make it all better.”
Just as Wilson began to crack a smile, his face dropped, his nose wrinkled, and a single sneeze came forth. House saw relief painted all over Wilson’s face for small mercies. Then they received a timely page from Taub saying that if they hurried, a room and endoscope were available right now.
They headed out of Diagnostics for the elevators, House riding Wilson with an impromptu chorus of, ‘Hi Ho! Hi Ho! It’s off to work we go…’ as Wilson ignored him with practiced ease.
Twenty minutes later Wilson threw himself back into House’s padded chair, sighing and looking for more tissues.
“I can’t believe I went through all that embarrassment and discomfort for nothing!” he growled.
“Oh, stop whining. I used up six months worth of patience trying to insert the damn probe between sneezes,” House added. He sat down and levelled his eyes intently upon Wilson as if an idea was brewing.
Wilson never got used to being subjected to that particular stare. “What?”
“Don’t get all bent out of shape here, but this could be psychosomatic.” House leaned back in his chair and waited.
“Excuse me? You think this is some sort of play for attention?” Wilson smiled incredulously. “I can think of at least a dozen more flattering ways to gain your attention, presuming I wanted it in the first place, other than having a scope shoved up my nose, thank you very much!”
“You could try drinking nettle tea. Must taste revolting, but---”
“You ridicule herbal remedies!”
“Then I’ve also read there’s acupressure and even reflexology treatments--”
Wilson’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously? Why are you mocking me?”
House’s eyes were smiling back at him. “Hey, you’re the one who’s always nagging me to be more open about alternative therapies. In fact, I seem to recall the reflexology points dealing with the paranasal cavities.”
Wilson narrowed his eyes in an obvious attempt to communicate misgivings. “I’m sorry… are you saying you want to touch my feet?”
“Might be fun,” he mused softly.
“Aa-choo! Aa-choo! Damn, just when I thought you’d scared it out of me.”
“Wuss! What have you got to lose?”
Wilson considered light-heartedly. “Hmmm, my reputation, my dignity…”
House got up without his cane and limped heavily around the desk. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Take your shoes and socks off. And no giggling.”
James was becoming interested. House noted how fast he bared his feet and lay back.
“And no moaning,” House added. “You’ll put me off.”
After arranging himself on the end of the chair, he patted his lap inviting Wilson to set his feet there. Wiggling his fingers in the air for a moment he grasped Wilson’s big toe with his thumb and index fingers and gently but firmly began to massage the underside of the digit. He increased his pressure when he felt Wilson’s leg relax on his good thigh and saw his eyes close. After a thorough workout he moved on to his other toes, fascinated as Wilson’s whole body became limp and relaxed, his breathing deep and audible around him.
Encouraged by the effect his ministrations were having, House took a precautionary look around his office, making sure no one was around, and grabbed some lotion from his desk. He cautiously snaked his fingers down the arch of Wilson’s foot and round his heel, pausing to work gentle circles into the soft hollows behind his ankle. A quiet sigh escaped Wilson’s lips and he flexed his foot in House’s hands.
By the time House concluded his treatment on the remaining foot, Wilson had fallen asleep. At the same moment, Foreman, Thirteen and Taub returned to Diagnostics. All three of them raised their eyebrows insinuatingly, however only Taub couldn’t help an added barb.
“Does Wilson really have a sneezing problem, or were you just looking for an excuse to put your hands on him?”
“Well, yes I was actually,” he snarked back, “but you’ve ruined the moment. Thanks very much!”
Taub smirked while observing the still sleeping oncologist. “Is he post-coital, or have you actually cured him?”
“Hmmm, feels good,” Wilson whispered, stirring. “Hey? What’s going on?” He registered the presence of the team right away and felt embarrassed, tucking his feet in.
“Sneeze for me, baby!” House shouted.
Wilson sat up, pulling a face for the benefit of the team, “Baby?”
But as he looked around for his socks, he took a cursory inhale, deeply through his nose. Daring to hope, he looked straight at House.
“Do you think this maybe worked? The tickle’s gone.” He breathed deeply again. “House! This is amazing!”
Foreman crossed his arms. “Maybe you should reconsider holistic therapies, House? Maybe you missed your calling.”
“No need to get nasty, oh dark one.” House fired back.
By this time Wilson was fully awake and on his feet, looking better than he had for the last 24 hours. In spite of being grateful for House’s healing efforts, he couldn’t resist messing with him in front of his team. He stepped forward slowly and snaked an arm around House’s waist. From behind, he leaned in and kissed him tenderly on his right cheek.
“Thanks for caring, House. Thanks for doing whatever it takes. I won’t forget this, really,” he whispered, albeit laying it on a little thick. “You have amazing hands.”
Author: rslworks
Prompt: Wilson can’t stop sneezing.
Pairing: none
Category: hurt/comfort
Rating/Warnings: PG
Words: 1936
Summary: House has amazing hands…
Disclaimer: Property of David Shore
(Beta:) none
A/N: Thanks to xgraciela for allowing a last minute substitution.
Wilson looked up at the ascending numbers in the elevator through bleary eyes. An open box of tissues peeked out of his soft-covered briefcase and he snatched another one in the nick of time.
“Aaa-choo! Aaa-choo! Aaa-choo!” He held his body tensely, trying to rein in the intensity of his sneezes, standing as he was in the elevator with two ICU nurses, a resident and Lou the janitor close behind him.
“Bless you,” said one of the nurses.
“Thanks,” he muttered, wiping his runny eyes. “I’m not sick, don’t worry,” he added for everyone’s benefit as the doors opened and he left the elevator. He swept past Diagnostics, where only Foreman sat reading, and opened his office for the day.
At 10:30 am he stalked into House’s office and stood in the doorway to the conference room, causing the entire team to abruptly stop brainstorming and stare.
House turned from the whiteboard to see why a hush had descended and saw a rather dishevelled, watery-eyed oncologist wearing a frantic expression and sporting a very reddened nose.
“House! Can I see you for a minute, please?”
House was intensely curious, but made no move toward Wilson. He looked at his team then back at his friend.
“I’m pretty sure they’re gonna find out---”
“Aa-choo! Aa-choo! Aa-choo! Ow!” Wilson wrapped his arms around his ribcage and leaned heavily on the door frame.
“Allergies?” offered Thirteen.
Wilson wiped his mouth and took a shaky breath. “No.”
“Sinus congestion?” tried Taub.
“No! Please, House?” Wilson pleaded.
House made a show of rolling his eyes, but quickly ushered Wilson into his office and offered him the comfy chair. Wilson sank down, and then sat very still, suddenly pinching his nostrils together and closing his eyes.
“Don’t do that! Let it out or you might blow out your eustachian tubes,” House warned.
“I have to stop it somehow!” he replied, letting go nevertheless. Wrapping his arms around himself again, he fired off another succession of three---no, four sneezes.
House stopped observing and sat behind his desk. “When did this start? You seemed fine yesterday.”
“I know!” he groaned, dragging more tissue over his eyes. “It started suddenly while I was driving home. My nose started to burn and tickle and I just started sneezing rapid fire. It’s been going on all night. I might get fifteen minutes rest sometimes, then something sets it off. I was awake all night.”
“Interesting.”
“Interesting! Is that all you can say? I can’t work like this! I just came from surgery. I had a sneezing fit in my mask, three times!” he grasped the back of his neck and squeezed.
“I had to have an OR nurse replace my mask and wipe my nose for me until I could close the patient. Needless to say, I’ve begged off my afternoon procedure and given it to Roland.”
House couldn’t suppress a smirk at the image of some nurse wiping itty, bitty Wilson’s nose for him. “Well, did you try a Benadryl for God’s sake?”
Now Wilson rolled his eyes, producing a new series of sneezes.
“I tried Benadryl last night at home. I couldn’t take it before surgery. I only had the ‘drowsy’ kind. Besides, it didn’t help anyway.” He winced as he blew his nose. “I have got to get some quality tissues. Can you still get those 3-ply ones with the lotion in them?”
House shook his head. “You’re pathetic. No sinus problem? No other symptoms?”
“None. Except for the sore stomach muscles and burning eyes from all the violent sneezing.”
House rummaged in a desk drawer for a moment, then made his way over to Wilson.
“Lie back in the chair.”
“Why?” he asked, looking up at House and failing to hide some anxiety.
“Oh, for crying out loud! Lie back! I assume you came in here because you wanted my help with this?” He produced a penlight. “I want to see if there’s anything up there acting as an irritant.”
Any protest ended there, because Wilson truly did want help, but not before another painful set of sneezes overtook him.
“Sorry,” he muttered, eyes streaming.
House waited, playing with the switch on the penlight. “You wanna blow there, sport, so I’m not trying to look through a river of snot?”
After more blowing, Wilson settled back and allowed House to tilt his chin and peer up each nostril. After a minute or two, he clicked off the light and sat back. The team, either bored or curious themselves, had wandered in and were also waiting.
Wilson raised his brows. “Well?”
“That’s not gonna work. There’s so much mucosal inflammation you could have a gnat buzzing around up there and I’d miss it. I didn’t see any polyps, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something higher or in your sinus cavity. You need an endoscopy.” He announced, moving back to his desk.
“You want that ENT guy, Noviszky to do it, or us?” He winced and waited for his answer as Wilson had gone off again.
Taub actually took pity on the oncologist, who now sat forward groaning and clutching his ribs again. “It could take a couple of days to get even Wilson in with Noviszky. I kind of doubt he wants to wait that long.”
Thirteen had scooped a fresh box of Kleenex and brought it to Wilson, seeing he had only soggy ones left on him. Only a cold, heartless, puppy-kicking bastard could not take pity on him at this point.
Even House sighed. “You win, Wilson. Who do you want snaking a scope up your proboscis?”
“Well, I thought---”
“What’s that? Me, you say? Aw shucks, dude. I’m getting all choked up…Foreteen, you go do the echo on patient number one. Taub, book a room for ‘Sneezy’ here, and get us set up to do this ASAP.”
Wilson looked over at House, scrutinizing him with his red-rimmed eyes.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he accused.
“Is it that obvious, Sneezy?” He pulled his mock sympathy face. “Don’t worry, Doc’s here to make it all better.”
Just as Wilson began to crack a smile, his face dropped, his nose wrinkled, and a single sneeze came forth. House saw relief painted all over Wilson’s face for small mercies. Then they received a timely page from Taub saying that if they hurried, a room and endoscope were available right now.
They headed out of Diagnostics for the elevators, House riding Wilson with an impromptu chorus of, ‘Hi Ho! Hi Ho! It’s off to work we go…’ as Wilson ignored him with practiced ease.
Twenty minutes later Wilson threw himself back into House’s padded chair, sighing and looking for more tissues.
“I can’t believe I went through all that embarrassment and discomfort for nothing!” he growled.
“Oh, stop whining. I used up six months worth of patience trying to insert the damn probe between sneezes,” House added. He sat down and levelled his eyes intently upon Wilson as if an idea was brewing.
Wilson never got used to being subjected to that particular stare. “What?”
“Don’t get all bent out of shape here, but this could be psychosomatic.” House leaned back in his chair and waited.
“Excuse me? You think this is some sort of play for attention?” Wilson smiled incredulously. “I can think of at least a dozen more flattering ways to gain your attention, presuming I wanted it in the first place, other than having a scope shoved up my nose, thank you very much!”
“You could try drinking nettle tea. Must taste revolting, but---”
“You ridicule herbal remedies!”
“Then I’ve also read there’s acupressure and even reflexology treatments--”
Wilson’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously? Why are you mocking me?”
House’s eyes were smiling back at him. “Hey, you’re the one who’s always nagging me to be more open about alternative therapies. In fact, I seem to recall the reflexology points dealing with the paranasal cavities.”
Wilson narrowed his eyes in an obvious attempt to communicate misgivings. “I’m sorry… are you saying you want to touch my feet?”
“Might be fun,” he mused softly.
“Aa-choo! Aa-choo! Damn, just when I thought you’d scared it out of me.”
“Wuss! What have you got to lose?”
Wilson considered light-heartedly. “Hmmm, my reputation, my dignity…”
House got up without his cane and limped heavily around the desk. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Take your shoes and socks off. And no giggling.”
James was becoming interested. House noted how fast he bared his feet and lay back.
“And no moaning,” House added. “You’ll put me off.”
After arranging himself on the end of the chair, he patted his lap inviting Wilson to set his feet there. Wiggling his fingers in the air for a moment he grasped Wilson’s big toe with his thumb and index fingers and gently but firmly began to massage the underside of the digit. He increased his pressure when he felt Wilson’s leg relax on his good thigh and saw his eyes close. After a thorough workout he moved on to his other toes, fascinated as Wilson’s whole body became limp and relaxed, his breathing deep and audible around him.
Encouraged by the effect his ministrations were having, House took a precautionary look around his office, making sure no one was around, and grabbed some lotion from his desk. He cautiously snaked his fingers down the arch of Wilson’s foot and round his heel, pausing to work gentle circles into the soft hollows behind his ankle. A quiet sigh escaped Wilson’s lips and he flexed his foot in House’s hands.
By the time House concluded his treatment on the remaining foot, Wilson had fallen asleep. At the same moment, Foreman, Thirteen and Taub returned to Diagnostics. All three of them raised their eyebrows insinuatingly, however only Taub couldn’t help an added barb.
“Does Wilson really have a sneezing problem, or were you just looking for an excuse to put your hands on him?”
“Well, yes I was actually,” he snarked back, “but you’ve ruined the moment. Thanks very much!”
Taub smirked while observing the still sleeping oncologist. “Is he post-coital, or have you actually cured him?”
“Hmmm, feels good,” Wilson whispered, stirring. “Hey? What’s going on?” He registered the presence of the team right away and felt embarrassed, tucking his feet in.
“Sneeze for me, baby!” House shouted.
Wilson sat up, pulling a face for the benefit of the team, “Baby?”
But as he looked around for his socks, he took a cursory inhale, deeply through his nose. Daring to hope, he looked straight at House.
“Do you think this maybe worked? The tickle’s gone.” He breathed deeply again. “House! This is amazing!”
Foreman crossed his arms. “Maybe you should reconsider holistic therapies, House? Maybe you missed your calling.”
“No need to get nasty, oh dark one.” House fired back.
By this time Wilson was fully awake and on his feet, looking better than he had for the last 24 hours. In spite of being grateful for House’s healing efforts, he couldn’t resist messing with him in front of his team. He stepped forward slowly and snaked an arm around House’s waist. From behind, he leaned in and kissed him tenderly on his right cheek.
“Thanks for caring, House. Thanks for doing whatever it takes. I won’t forget this, really,” he whispered, albeit laying it on a little thick. “You have amazing hands.”