"The Twelve Days of Chrismukkah"; another H/W kid!fic, without the kid
Title: The Twelve Days of Chrismukkah
Pairing: House/Wilson established
Rating: G
Warning: kid!fic (without the kid); all dialogue, all the time
Summary: In which our heroes brave Christmas crowds, determine that Santa Claus is not an idol, and House explains the meaning of life the offside rule.
A/N: Blame yourselves, you gave me the prompts! If you don't see your prompt here, don't worry, you'll see it shortly. A couple of the prompts, I linked to Wikipedia just in case. Thank you to EVERYONE who helped me out, much appreciated. Series also includes: Brilliant, Road Trip, and Nine Months (and Change).
PS: Eventually, I guess I'll have to name the little bastard. Leave me a name, any name, and we'll have ourselves a contest. Somehow. Don't ask me how. I just want to have someone else to blame for naming him. ^^
On the first day...Idol
"Thou shalt have no idols before me..."
"Santa Claus is not an idol. And you're an atheist, what do you care?"
"You're a Jew. Don't you think the kid's gonna be confused enough?"
"Santa Claus has nothing to do with Jesus."
"And everything to do with Christmas."
"We're celebrating both, so what's the problem?"
"WHY are we celebrating both, that's my question?"
"Because."
"I understand Hanukkah, both of his Moms are Jewish. But Christmas?"
"I'm not his Mom, and he's celebrating Christmas because I say so."
"Did widdle Jimmykins feel left out?"
"Maybe I just want an excuse to give our son presents. Is that alright with you?"
"He's going to be spoiled."
"He'll be culturally aware. You want that, don't you?"
"I want to be able to pay our bills."
"You actually said that with a straight face. I'm impressed."
.............................................
On the second day...Elmo
"What the hell is this thing?"
"Elmo."
"Beg pardon?"
"Sesame Street character. Your son loves him. Just buy it so we can go home."
"It's a fur-covered vibrator."
"Toy. For children. Don't look at me like that."
"Baby's first sex toy. Great idea, Mom!"
"It is not. Please lower your voice."
"Wow, we need one of these! You keep saying you want to bring some excitement into the bedroom."
"Great, just keep getting louder. I don't think everyone in the store is staring at us yet."
"It's so fuzzily enticing! I can't wait to get it home!"
"No, wait, that's everyone. If you don't want to buy the damned thing, just say so."
"Of course I want to buy it. I want to buy it, and stick it down my pants."
"Shut up. I'm begging you to shut up."
"You're right, that's selfish of me. I want to stick it down your pants!"
"Fine. You win. Next time, I'll do the Christmas shopping myself. What was I thinking, asking you to help?"
"I really don't know. I told you it was a bad idea in the first place."
.............................................
On the third day...Thread
"I don't see why we can't eat Chinese and be done with it."
"It's Christmas dinner, your parents are coming, my parents are coming, Cuddy's parents are coming, Cuddy's coming...."
"Everyone's coming, I get it! Everyone but you and me, apparently."
"We're not having sex with everyone's parents in the house. Forget it."
"They'll be here for two weeks!"
"Not everyone, just your parents."
"That doesn't do me a bit of good, if you refuse to fuck with them in the house! Send them to a hotel!"
"I'm not sending your parents to a hotel!"
"Then we're going to a hotel!"
"I'm not...wait a minute. I've lost the thread of this argument."
"You were imagining me naked, weren't you?"
"I was not. Okay, maybe a little bit. Two weeks without sex does seem a bit excessive."
"I would have gone with impossible."
.............................................
On the fourth day...Chocolate
"He needs chocolate like he needs a hole in the head."
"Chocolate is a necessary part of the Christmas experience."
"Aren't you the one who was against him experiencing the Christmas experience?"
"I've seen the error of my ways."
"You just want to hype him up so your Dad will have to stay up all night."
"Me? Do something like that to my dear, beloved father?"
"That's cruel. I wouldn't give a sugar-saturated toddler to my worst enemy."
"I would."
"He's not your enemy."
"Oh, he'll be fine. Besides, Mom will be right there with him. Believe me, if there's one thing she can handle, it's hyper Houses."
"Yes, but what happens if they don't make it tonight? What if they get snowed in? What if their car breaks down? Who's stuck with him then?"
"You may have a point there. Oh well, guess I'll have to eat this crap all by myself. Keeping the boy safe, and all."
"Why do I get the feeling I've been had."
.............................................
On the fifth day...Toaster
"Okay, I give. What the hell is up with all the toasters?"
"Secret Santa gifts. Dirty Santa gifts. Random Nurses Who Give Me Presents gifts."
"You're giving everyone toasters? Why toasters?"
"You do remember that civil-union thing we had a few years back?"
"With unabashed fondness. What's your point?"
"You remember those gifts that everyone gave us, that you refused to help open or write thank-you notes for?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, apparently, gay guys need toasters. Really, really badly."
"There are like, what, twenty toasters there?"
"Eighteen. Those two are toaster ovens."
"That's a lot of toast."
"Actually, I kept two of the nicest ones, in case our toaster exploded. Again."
"That was not my fault. How was I to know Pop-Tarts were that flammable?"
"You look better with eyebrows, I must say."
"I think so, too. I should have stolen some of yours. You've got plenty enough for the both of us."
"Shut up and help me wrap, if you know what's good for you."
"Touchy, touchy."
.............................................
On the sixth day...Advocate
"I'm not sure if I advocate guns as toys, House."
"Toy guns, moron, and it's not the same thing."
"I'm not a moron. I don't think it's good for a child to be exposed to the idea that weapons are fun."
"Weapons are fun. This is why we have wars."
"It leads to a desensitization to violence. Which, as I understand, is not a good thing."
"Only because you waste countless hours poring over parenting magazines. Hours that could be better spent in bed with me."
"The trick of the thing is to teach him the difference between fantasy and reality, but disapproving of guns in reality..."
"Speaking of fantasies..."
"We weren't."
"I was thinking, 'Cuddy's here, you're here'...
"See, there you go, proving my point. That right there proves that you can't distinguish between the two."
"Yes, but going back to this whole threesome idea we were talking about."
"You can keep saying it, but that doesn't mean it has a chance in hell of happening."
"Of course, you could always just let me buy the kid the plastic toy that only somewhat resembles a gun, and I could shut up talking about it."
"For the entire time she's here?"
"Except for the two or three times I'll need to say it to fuck with her mind. And her parent's minds."
"You have a deal, sir."
"I knew you'd see reason."
.............................................
On the seventh day...Flexible
"And then I said, 'You know my Jimmy, he's so flexible!'. You should have seen her face!"
"I'm hoping you were talking about my cooking and hosting skills."
"So was she!"
"House, the woman's eighty-three. That's just mean."
"Of course it is. What else did you expect from me, really?"
"With your son in tow? A lot more than that!"
"Oh, relax. Otherwise, I was on my best behavior. She agreed to come eat dinner with us, and demanded that we let her bring fruitcake cookies. Thus, the elderly neighbor was saved from spending Christmas alone. Cue the violins, strike up the stirring chorus."
"I hope you told her that she didn't have to bring anything."
"These are fruitcake cookies, Jimmy my boy. If it was fruitcake, sure, but I'm not stupid."
"She's eighty-three! What if she falls and breaks a hip?"
"Then that will be a very sad thing. Maybe I should go help her make the cookies, just to make sure that nothing happens to them...I mean, her."
"What a prince."
"I am. I really am. You're so lucky to be married to me."
"That's what I keep telling myself."
"Is that why the therapist says you're delusional?"
"No. Stop stealing my file, or next time you'll find something really awful."
"Well, I already know you like to wear women's clothing. What could be hotter, I mean, worse than that?"
"Go help Mrs. Sullivan with her cookies."
"You gonna buy those panties I like?"
"Only if you wear them, too."
"Jimmy, you're so...flexible!"
.............................................
On the eighth day...Cursive
"You let the kid address the Christmas cards, didn't you?"
"My handwriting is not that bad."
"I can read your printing. With time, and a couple of tokes. Your cursive writing, however..."
"I'm left-handed, sue me. If you can do better, you come over here and do them yourself."
"I can do better, but I have a reputation to maintain. Imagine what would happen if I started addressing Christmas cards, willy-nilly."
"If you're not helping, the least you can do is take the Sharpie away from him. He's supposed to be taking pictures with Santa today, and Sharpie-face is not the look we want recorded for posterity."
"Maybe not, but I, for one, will not recognize the kid without Sharpie-face. Nor will anyone else."
"Which begs the question, why do you continue to bring the damned things home?"
"One, because I live to annoy you. Two, because I had a Sharpie-deprived childhood. And three, because I believe in the freedom of self-expression."
"You're so full of crap. Give him some crayons, please, and you come here and sign these."
"I don't really think I'm qualified to sign documents. I'm under the influence."
"You signed your will under the influence. Keep annoying me, and we'll see just how binding it is."
"Death threats, in front of the offspring? This is starting to feel like the Christmases of my youth."
"Let's see what your mother has to say about that."
"Let's not. I'm signing, I'm signing. No need to bring her into this."
.............................................
On the ninth day...Forty-Two
"Forty-two."
"The answer to life, the universe, and everything?"
"Presents. The child has forty-two presents."
"From everyone? That's not all that many."
"From us. Just from us."
"Holy crap."
"That's what I said."
"That's...is that a lot?"
"I have no idea. Jew, remember?"
"Hey, don't look at me. My dad thought five gifts was a god's plenty. If that."
"Not anymore. I counted twenty-five from them. Without the savings bonds."
"Okay, the count stands at sixty-seven. What about your parents?"
"The standard eight. My brother says they've got around fifteen stashed at their house, though."
"An even ninety. Cuddy and her parents?"
"They say sixteen, but they're lying."
"Either way, we've broken a hundred."
"That's...pretty impressive."
"It's...yeah, impressive. Lucky little..."
"Bastard. He's a lucky little bastard."
"Don't call him that."
"He is. And you were thinking it. I'm confiscating anything good, I'm just letting you know."
"Not like he'll miss it."
"He's my son. How much you want to bet he's already got an accurate count going, and will pitch a bitch if even one goes missing?"
"He's four. That doesn't mean I'm betting against, though."
"Forty-two, Jesus Christ. Whose idea was it to give us a kid?"
"Cuddy's."
"Awesome. When he grows into an entitlement asshole, we'll know whose fault it is."
"Everyone will blame you for any asshole tendencies."
"Sad, but true."
.............................................
On the tenth day...Noblesse Oblige
"Your answer to the problem of too many presents is to take our four year old to a homeless shelter?"
"Noblesse oblige."
"It's not his fault that his parents and grandparents have no sense of moderation."
"We're all spoiling him. He's going to be an asshole."
"He's an asshole right now. If assholism is a genetic trait, the kid doesn't stand a chance."
"My influence balances out yours."
"If it's a nurture thing. If it's a nature thing, then Cuddy and I are the biggest assholes I know. And guess what, you're an asshole, too."
"Still, it won't hurt him to be exposed to the idea that his good fortune comes with responsibility."
"Well, if that's all you want, have him pick out some of his gifts and take them to the pediatric oncology ward. Still scary and emotionally-scarring, but not as smelly."
"Wow. That's actually a very good idea. I'm so glad you thought of it."
"Wait a minute."
"We can help him make cards and a banner or something. Maybe he could help Blythe make some cookies."
"Oh, you dirty, dirty rat."
"Someone could dress in a Santa costume."
"Around the time Hell freezes over. I'll fund this mission of mercy, if it'll get you off my back. Don't think I don't see what you did there."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Making it my idea, that's good. That's damned good. Don't think there won't be repercussions."
"I look forward to you trying."
.............................................
On the eleventh day...Schwarzwaelder Kirschtorte
"It's a who and a what now?"
"Shwarzwaelder Kirschtorte. Don't make me say it again, I know you speak German."
"Won't the Jews in the family take offense?"
"Like you care. And don't start with the Jew stuff again, not today."
"Oh, Jimmy, if there is any day that I should be able to start with Jew stuff, then Christmas Eve is that day."
"Don't start with me, then. Do you see all of this food? Have you helped chop the first carrot, or wash the first dish?"
"What I find amusing is the idea that you thought I would feel inclined to do those things in the first place."
"That's just great. Your attitude just fills me with the Christmas spirit. Don't be surprised when I put ground glass in your food, dear."
"More death threats! God, I love this time of year. If you'll remember, I'm the voice of reason who suggested Chinese food. No fuss, no muss, you don't have to cook for three days, and I don't have to pretend to care."
"Go away. Right now."
"Your eyeball is twitching."
"That's a warning sign for annoying husbands."
"I'll just go watch football."
"Take your son with you."
"Sure thing. I'll be explaining the offside rule to him. Very important, very necessary part of childhood."
"You do that."
"Going now."
"Please do."
"Can we take the cake?"
"Only if I get to throw it at your head."
"So, that's a no?"
.............................................
On the twelfth day...Casablanca
"I can't take it anymore."
"Christmas?"
"Casablanca. Who knew Dad was a closet Bogart lover?"
"I did. I actually listen to your mother, though."
"John Wayne, sure. Bogart? It boggles the mind."
"You're just mad because he Bogarted your Tivo."
"You have no idea. I am bored out of my mind."
"You like Casablanca."
"Not with my dad, I don't."
"This is usually the part where I try to get you two to open up with each other, to share your feelings..."
"Yes, but the overwhelming scent of hypocrisy would be too much, even for you."
"I'm sick of people trying to tell me how to raise our son."
"No, you're sick of your dad trying to tell you how to raise our son. Everyone else you actually listen to, whether you take their stupid advice or not."
"You don't hear Mom giving parenting advice."
"That's because she doesn't think she's qualified. Considering."
"Yeah, considering. Dad, on the other hand, sees nothing strange about the fact that one of his sons is just...gone."
"Maybe he just doesn't want to talk about it, with you. Maybe it's too painful."
"You're defending my dad?"
"Playing the part of James Wilson today will be Greg House. Cue applause."
"I can't imagine ever...if he was just gone?"
"He's not going anywhere. He's too damned spoiled. We'll probably have to pry him out of our basement with a crowbar."
"God, I hope so. Go get him so I can feed him chocolate cake and fruitcake cookies until his little belly explodes."
"Not a chance. He's sleeping on Dad's lap, drooling all over his new 'World's Greatest Granddad' t-shirt. The old man probably has to piss like nobody's business, but he won't move a muscle for fear of waking the brat."
"That's actually pretty cute."
"That's what I said. Then I realized who I was talking about, and came running to you."
"Was my baby all frightened?"
"Terrified. Hold me."
"You just spotted the mistletoe, didn't you?"
"Maybe. Kiss me until it hurts."
"Merry Christmas, House."
"Happy Hanukkah. Now kiss me, dammit."
.....................................................
Pairing: House/Wilson established
Rating: G
Warning: kid!fic (without the kid); all dialogue, all the time
Summary: In which our heroes brave Christmas crowds, determine that Santa Claus is not an idol, and House explains the meaning of life the offside rule.
A/N: Blame yourselves, you gave me the prompts! If you don't see your prompt here, don't worry, you'll see it shortly. A couple of the prompts, I linked to Wikipedia just in case. Thank you to EVERYONE who helped me out, much appreciated. Series also includes: Brilliant, Road Trip, and Nine Months (and Change).
PS: Eventually, I guess I'll have to name the little bastard. Leave me a name, any name, and we'll have ourselves a contest. Somehow. Don't ask me how. I just want to have someone else to blame for naming him. ^^
On the first day...Idol
"Thou shalt have no idols before me..."
"Santa Claus is not an idol. And you're an atheist, what do you care?"
"You're a Jew. Don't you think the kid's gonna be confused enough?"
"Santa Claus has nothing to do with Jesus."
"And everything to do with Christmas."
"We're celebrating both, so what's the problem?"
"WHY are we celebrating both, that's my question?"
"Because."
"I understand Hanukkah, both of his Moms are Jewish. But Christmas?"
"I'm not his Mom, and he's celebrating Christmas because I say so."
"Did widdle Jimmykins feel left out?"
"Maybe I just want an excuse to give our son presents. Is that alright with you?"
"He's going to be spoiled."
"He'll be culturally aware. You want that, don't you?"
"I want to be able to pay our bills."
"You actually said that with a straight face. I'm impressed."
.............................................
On the second day...Elmo
"What the hell is this thing?"
"Elmo."
"Beg pardon?"
"Sesame Street character. Your son loves him. Just buy it so we can go home."
"It's a fur-covered vibrator."
"Toy. For children. Don't look at me like that."
"Baby's first sex toy. Great idea, Mom!"
"It is not. Please lower your voice."
"Wow, we need one of these! You keep saying you want to bring some excitement into the bedroom."
"Great, just keep getting louder. I don't think everyone in the store is staring at us yet."
"It's so fuzzily enticing! I can't wait to get it home!"
"No, wait, that's everyone. If you don't want to buy the damned thing, just say so."
"Of course I want to buy it. I want to buy it, and stick it down my pants."
"Shut up. I'm begging you to shut up."
"You're right, that's selfish of me. I want to stick it down your pants!"
"Fine. You win. Next time, I'll do the Christmas shopping myself. What was I thinking, asking you to help?"
"I really don't know. I told you it was a bad idea in the first place."
.............................................
On the third day...Thread
"I don't see why we can't eat Chinese and be done with it."
"It's Christmas dinner, your parents are coming, my parents are coming, Cuddy's parents are coming, Cuddy's coming...."
"Everyone's coming, I get it! Everyone but you and me, apparently."
"We're not having sex with everyone's parents in the house. Forget it."
"They'll be here for two weeks!"
"Not everyone, just your parents."
"That doesn't do me a bit of good, if you refuse to fuck with them in the house! Send them to a hotel!"
"I'm not sending your parents to a hotel!"
"Then we're going to a hotel!"
"I'm not...wait a minute. I've lost the thread of this argument."
"You were imagining me naked, weren't you?"
"I was not. Okay, maybe a little bit. Two weeks without sex does seem a bit excessive."
"I would have gone with impossible."
.............................................
On the fourth day...Chocolate
"He needs chocolate like he needs a hole in the head."
"Chocolate is a necessary part of the Christmas experience."
"Aren't you the one who was against him experiencing the Christmas experience?"
"I've seen the error of my ways."
"You just want to hype him up so your Dad will have to stay up all night."
"Me? Do something like that to my dear, beloved father?"
"That's cruel. I wouldn't give a sugar-saturated toddler to my worst enemy."
"I would."
"He's not your enemy."
"Oh, he'll be fine. Besides, Mom will be right there with him. Believe me, if there's one thing she can handle, it's hyper Houses."
"Yes, but what happens if they don't make it tonight? What if they get snowed in? What if their car breaks down? Who's stuck with him then?"
"You may have a point there. Oh well, guess I'll have to eat this crap all by myself. Keeping the boy safe, and all."
"Why do I get the feeling I've been had."
.............................................
On the fifth day...Toaster
"Okay, I give. What the hell is up with all the toasters?"
"Secret Santa gifts. Dirty Santa gifts. Random Nurses Who Give Me Presents gifts."
"You're giving everyone toasters? Why toasters?"
"You do remember that civil-union thing we had a few years back?"
"With unabashed fondness. What's your point?"
"You remember those gifts that everyone gave us, that you refused to help open or write thank-you notes for?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, apparently, gay guys need toasters. Really, really badly."
"There are like, what, twenty toasters there?"
"Eighteen. Those two are toaster ovens."
"That's a lot of toast."
"Actually, I kept two of the nicest ones, in case our toaster exploded. Again."
"That was not my fault. How was I to know Pop-Tarts were that flammable?"
"You look better with eyebrows, I must say."
"I think so, too. I should have stolen some of yours. You've got plenty enough for the both of us."
"Shut up and help me wrap, if you know what's good for you."
"Touchy, touchy."
.............................................
On the sixth day...Advocate
"I'm not sure if I advocate guns as toys, House."
"Toy guns, moron, and it's not the same thing."
"I'm not a moron. I don't think it's good for a child to be exposed to the idea that weapons are fun."
"Weapons are fun. This is why we have wars."
"It leads to a desensitization to violence. Which, as I understand, is not a good thing."
"Only because you waste countless hours poring over parenting magazines. Hours that could be better spent in bed with me."
"The trick of the thing is to teach him the difference between fantasy and reality, but disapproving of guns in reality..."
"Speaking of fantasies..."
"We weren't."
"I was thinking, 'Cuddy's here, you're here'...
"See, there you go, proving my point. That right there proves that you can't distinguish between the two."
"Yes, but going back to this whole threesome idea we were talking about."
"You can keep saying it, but that doesn't mean it has a chance in hell of happening."
"Of course, you could always just let me buy the kid the plastic toy that only somewhat resembles a gun, and I could shut up talking about it."
"For the entire time she's here?"
"Except for the two or three times I'll need to say it to fuck with her mind. And her parent's minds."
"You have a deal, sir."
"I knew you'd see reason."
.............................................
On the seventh day...Flexible
"And then I said, 'You know my Jimmy, he's so flexible!'. You should have seen her face!"
"I'm hoping you were talking about my cooking and hosting skills."
"So was she!"
"House, the woman's eighty-three. That's just mean."
"Of course it is. What else did you expect from me, really?"
"With your son in tow? A lot more than that!"
"Oh, relax. Otherwise, I was on my best behavior. She agreed to come eat dinner with us, and demanded that we let her bring fruitcake cookies. Thus, the elderly neighbor was saved from spending Christmas alone. Cue the violins, strike up the stirring chorus."
"I hope you told her that she didn't have to bring anything."
"These are fruitcake cookies, Jimmy my boy. If it was fruitcake, sure, but I'm not stupid."
"She's eighty-three! What if she falls and breaks a hip?"
"Then that will be a very sad thing. Maybe I should go help her make the cookies, just to make sure that nothing happens to them...I mean, her."
"What a prince."
"I am. I really am. You're so lucky to be married to me."
"That's what I keep telling myself."
"Is that why the therapist says you're delusional?"
"No. Stop stealing my file, or next time you'll find something really awful."
"Well, I already know you like to wear women's clothing. What could be hotter, I mean, worse than that?"
"Go help Mrs. Sullivan with her cookies."
"You gonna buy those panties I like?"
"Only if you wear them, too."
"Jimmy, you're so...flexible!"
.............................................
On the eighth day...Cursive
"You let the kid address the Christmas cards, didn't you?"
"My handwriting is not that bad."
"I can read your printing. With time, and a couple of tokes. Your cursive writing, however..."
"I'm left-handed, sue me. If you can do better, you come over here and do them yourself."
"I can do better, but I have a reputation to maintain. Imagine what would happen if I started addressing Christmas cards, willy-nilly."
"If you're not helping, the least you can do is take the Sharpie away from him. He's supposed to be taking pictures with Santa today, and Sharpie-face is not the look we want recorded for posterity."
"Maybe not, but I, for one, will not recognize the kid without Sharpie-face. Nor will anyone else."
"Which begs the question, why do you continue to bring the damned things home?"
"One, because I live to annoy you. Two, because I had a Sharpie-deprived childhood. And three, because I believe in the freedom of self-expression."
"You're so full of crap. Give him some crayons, please, and you come here and sign these."
"I don't really think I'm qualified to sign documents. I'm under the influence."
"You signed your will under the influence. Keep annoying me, and we'll see just how binding it is."
"Death threats, in front of the offspring? This is starting to feel like the Christmases of my youth."
"Let's see what your mother has to say about that."
"Let's not. I'm signing, I'm signing. No need to bring her into this."
.............................................
On the ninth day...Forty-Two
"Forty-two."
"The answer to life, the universe, and everything?"
"Presents. The child has forty-two presents."
"From everyone? That's not all that many."
"From us. Just from us."
"Holy crap."
"That's what I said."
"That's...is that a lot?"
"I have no idea. Jew, remember?"
"Hey, don't look at me. My dad thought five gifts was a god's plenty. If that."
"Not anymore. I counted twenty-five from them. Without the savings bonds."
"Okay, the count stands at sixty-seven. What about your parents?"
"The standard eight. My brother says they've got around fifteen stashed at their house, though."
"An even ninety. Cuddy and her parents?"
"They say sixteen, but they're lying."
"Either way, we've broken a hundred."
"That's...pretty impressive."
"It's...yeah, impressive. Lucky little..."
"Bastard. He's a lucky little bastard."
"Don't call him that."
"He is. And you were thinking it. I'm confiscating anything good, I'm just letting you know."
"Not like he'll miss it."
"He's my son. How much you want to bet he's already got an accurate count going, and will pitch a bitch if even one goes missing?"
"He's four. That doesn't mean I'm betting against, though."
"Forty-two, Jesus Christ. Whose idea was it to give us a kid?"
"Cuddy's."
"Awesome. When he grows into an entitlement asshole, we'll know whose fault it is."
"Everyone will blame you for any asshole tendencies."
"Sad, but true."
.............................................
On the tenth day...Noblesse Oblige
"Your answer to the problem of too many presents is to take our four year old to a homeless shelter?"
"Noblesse oblige."
"It's not his fault that his parents and grandparents have no sense of moderation."
"We're all spoiling him. He's going to be an asshole."
"He's an asshole right now. If assholism is a genetic trait, the kid doesn't stand a chance."
"My influence balances out yours."
"If it's a nurture thing. If it's a nature thing, then Cuddy and I are the biggest assholes I know. And guess what, you're an asshole, too."
"Still, it won't hurt him to be exposed to the idea that his good fortune comes with responsibility."
"Well, if that's all you want, have him pick out some of his gifts and take them to the pediatric oncology ward. Still scary and emotionally-scarring, but not as smelly."
"Wow. That's actually a very good idea. I'm so glad you thought of it."
"Wait a minute."
"We can help him make cards and a banner or something. Maybe he could help Blythe make some cookies."
"Oh, you dirty, dirty rat."
"Someone could dress in a Santa costume."
"Around the time Hell freezes over. I'll fund this mission of mercy, if it'll get you off my back. Don't think I don't see what you did there."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Making it my idea, that's good. That's damned good. Don't think there won't be repercussions."
"I look forward to you trying."
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On the eleventh day...Schwarzwaelder Kirschtorte
"It's a who and a what now?"
"Shwarzwaelder Kirschtorte. Don't make me say it again, I know you speak German."
"Won't the Jews in the family take offense?"
"Like you care. And don't start with the Jew stuff again, not today."
"Oh, Jimmy, if there is any day that I should be able to start with Jew stuff, then Christmas Eve is that day."
"Don't start with me, then. Do you see all of this food? Have you helped chop the first carrot, or wash the first dish?"
"What I find amusing is the idea that you thought I would feel inclined to do those things in the first place."
"That's just great. Your attitude just fills me with the Christmas spirit. Don't be surprised when I put ground glass in your food, dear."
"More death threats! God, I love this time of year. If you'll remember, I'm the voice of reason who suggested Chinese food. No fuss, no muss, you don't have to cook for three days, and I don't have to pretend to care."
"Go away. Right now."
"Your eyeball is twitching."
"That's a warning sign for annoying husbands."
"I'll just go watch football."
"Take your son with you."
"Sure thing. I'll be explaining the offside rule to him. Very important, very necessary part of childhood."
"You do that."
"Going now."
"Please do."
"Can we take the cake?"
"Only if I get to throw it at your head."
"So, that's a no?"
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On the twelfth day...Casablanca
"I can't take it anymore."
"Christmas?"
"Casablanca. Who knew Dad was a closet Bogart lover?"
"I did. I actually listen to your mother, though."
"John Wayne, sure. Bogart? It boggles the mind."
"You're just mad because he Bogarted your Tivo."
"You have no idea. I am bored out of my mind."
"You like Casablanca."
"Not with my dad, I don't."
"This is usually the part where I try to get you two to open up with each other, to share your feelings..."
"Yes, but the overwhelming scent of hypocrisy would be too much, even for you."
"I'm sick of people trying to tell me how to raise our son."
"No, you're sick of your dad trying to tell you how to raise our son. Everyone else you actually listen to, whether you take their stupid advice or not."
"You don't hear Mom giving parenting advice."
"That's because she doesn't think she's qualified. Considering."
"Yeah, considering. Dad, on the other hand, sees nothing strange about the fact that one of his sons is just...gone."
"Maybe he just doesn't want to talk about it, with you. Maybe it's too painful."
"You're defending my dad?"
"Playing the part of James Wilson today will be Greg House. Cue applause."
"I can't imagine ever...if he was just gone?"
"He's not going anywhere. He's too damned spoiled. We'll probably have to pry him out of our basement with a crowbar."
"God, I hope so. Go get him so I can feed him chocolate cake and fruitcake cookies until his little belly explodes."
"Not a chance. He's sleeping on Dad's lap, drooling all over his new 'World's Greatest Granddad' t-shirt. The old man probably has to piss like nobody's business, but he won't move a muscle for fear of waking the brat."
"That's actually pretty cute."
"That's what I said. Then I realized who I was talking about, and came running to you."
"Was my baby all frightened?"
"Terrified. Hold me."
"You just spotted the mistletoe, didn't you?"
"Maybe. Kiss me until it hurts."
"Merry Christmas, House."
"Happy Hanukkah. Now kiss me, dammit."
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