![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[fic] House, MD: The One In Which House Marries Wilson (Or Possibly Doesn't).
A few things about this. One, it can be blamed entirely on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jmtorres who encouraged me along and wrote 70% of the really good lines and deserves co-author credit. Two, the title is entirely because I couldn't think of anything creative and appropriate. Three, despite the name, it is not slash. ...don't ask me how that works, I'm just the fingers.
The One In Which House Marries Wilson (Or Possibly Doesn't).
House, MD. PG-13.
"...isn't that bigamy? Or bigandry? Or... some thing?"
House limped into Cuddy's office with an unusually evil smirk on his face. It's going to be one of those days, Cuddy thought to herself.
"I thought you might like to know," House said casually twirling the simple gold band on his finger. "I'm off the market. No more ass-grabbing in the hallways, you minx!"
Cuddy raised an eyebrow. "And who, pray tell, is the lucky woman? I need to buy her a consolation present."
"Interesting," House said. "Heternormative assumption. Not a woman, my dear, but an oncologist."
Cuddy blinked. And thought for a second. And then blinked again. "Wilson?" she asked, disbelieving. "...isn't that bigamy? Or bigandry? Or... some thing?"
House snickered. Cuddy grabbed a bottle and shook out four Aleve to help combat the impending migraine and dry-swallowed them. "House? Go do your clinic duty and for once in your life try not to terrorise the patients."
"Wilson," Cuddy said. "What the hell is up with House and you?"
"What, beyond the fact that I'm pretty much his only friend?"
"House just came into my office complete with wedding ring and declared that he'd married you."
Wilson patted at his pockets. "Damn it! So that's what he was mugging me for. He said it was for a few quarters for the coke machine."
Cuddy blinked. "You're not concerned at all about this?"
"Well, the sloppy public goodbye kiss in the cafeteria was a little unusual, but no not really. He'll have his fun and be bored with it in a day or so."
"...a little unusual," Cuddy said flatly. Wilson started to reply but she held her hand up. "No, no, I don't want to know. I really really don't." She rubbed at her temples and wandered back off.
Wilson sighed and went back to his office to take another look at that leukemia case.
A couple of hours later, Cameron accosted Wilson. "Is it true? That's... god! You and House? And it's illegal!"
Wilson pinched his nose and felt a small wave of sympathy for House's vicodin addiction. If he had to deal with Cameron all the time, he'd be pretty tempted too. "Cameron, I am not actually insane enough to marry House. House is, however, insane enough to steal my wedding ring and go fuck with Cuddy's head for shits and giggles."
"...oh."
"I find it intriguing that you believed it," Wilson said, with a slight eyebrow.
"The lunchlady said he frenched you!"
"Oh, like that's anything new," Wilson said, with exasperation.
"My point exactly!"
Wilson coughed. "...to be clear, here, I was talking about him taking insane liberties with his colleagues in the name of amusing himself, but, all right."
Cameron sighed. "So, seriously, is this why the whole thing with me and him went so spectacularly badly?"
Wilson shook his head slightly. "Believe it or not, I'm not actually having an affair with House. And no, things went badly because House is, well, House."
Cameron sniffed dubiously and stalked off, probably to go gossip with the oncology nurses. Wilson muttered to himself, "Also because you're you, Cameron, and because House never actually cared about you that way."
Chase wandered into House's office during break, coffee cup in hand and grinned. "Hey, heard the good news. Congratulations!" And promptly wandered back off to check up on a patient who'd been having unexplained breathing difficulty.
House pointed after him. "See? If you all were that cool about it, it wouldn't be any fun."
"But if we don't react, you just escalate," Wilson said, reasonably.
"Details!" House said, with an airy wave of his hand.
"I am going to go check on my patient's bowel movements, now, it's less traumatic than this whole conversation," Foreman said. Cameron followed him out, probably still angsting about the supposed affair underneath the practical joke, Wilson thought tiredly.
Cuddy rubbed her temples and regretted bitterly having turned down that massage therapist who'd been looking to do a study on stress in healthcare workers. "Look, Mr. Andrews. He's not gay, he's just playing a practical joke on everyone today. Including his supposed 'husband.'"
House smirked and god, nobody would blame her if she socked him cripple or no, would they? "How do you know it's not both?" he said.
"House, is there some reason you really don't want to treat this guy?" she said, almost managing calm.
"What, other than that he's an annoying bigot? That's not enough?"
Cuddy sighed and turned to the patient who was a fairly bright shade of red. "Go get some therapy, stop repressing, and drink some damn tea. Eat some soup. If you want, I can write you a scrip for a low-level antibiotic but it's not going to do anything the tea and the soup won't. And stop chewing that damn gum. Now go away and stop bothering me." She turned and glared at House. "Happy now?"
"Delirious," House said, leaning in with a leer. "Also, shocked that you noticed the gum," as he straightened up.
"Yes, well, we can't all be the great medical detective but I did actually finish medical school, hard though it is for you to remember," Cuddy said, and kicked him out of the office. It was only by the grace of God she restrained herself from doing so physically.
Wilson rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I find it slightly distressing how many people were, after thinking about it, not that surprised by the concept of us getting married."
"...oh, I'm sorry, did I kick you out of the closet? Whoops," House said.
Wilson sighed. "No, not really, I'm just concerned that people seem to think I am insane enough to marry you. Without having divorced Julie!"
"It just goes to show, you're only the good one by comparison, and people know it."
Wilson scrubbed at his face.
"Well, that's what you get for being such a ho," House said, casually.
Wilson looked at him for a long moment, and decided not to comment. "...Yeah. So, drinks at your place?"
"Sure," House said. "I've still got that girly shit you like to drink."
[ende]
jmtorres who encouraged me along and wrote 70% of the really good lines and deserves co-author credit. Two, the title is entirely because I couldn't think of anything creative and appropriate. Three, despite the name, it is not slash. ...don't ask me how that works, I'm just the fingers.The One In Which House Marries Wilson (Or Possibly Doesn't).
House, MD. PG-13.
"...isn't that bigamy? Or bigandry? Or... some thing?"
House limped into Cuddy's office with an unusually evil smirk on his face. It's going to be one of those days, Cuddy thought to herself.
"I thought you might like to know," House said casually twirling the simple gold band on his finger. "I'm off the market. No more ass-grabbing in the hallways, you minx!"
Cuddy raised an eyebrow. "And who, pray tell, is the lucky woman? I need to buy her a consolation present."
"Interesting," House said. "Heternormative assumption. Not a woman, my dear, but an oncologist."
Cuddy blinked. And thought for a second. And then blinked again. "Wilson?" she asked, disbelieving. "...isn't that bigamy? Or bigandry? Or... some thing?"
House snickered. Cuddy grabbed a bottle and shook out four Aleve to help combat the impending migraine and dry-swallowed them. "House? Go do your clinic duty and for once in your life try not to terrorise the patients."
"Wilson," Cuddy said. "What the hell is up with House and you?"
"What, beyond the fact that I'm pretty much his only friend?"
"House just came into my office complete with wedding ring and declared that he'd married you."
Wilson patted at his pockets. "Damn it! So that's what he was mugging me for. He said it was for a few quarters for the coke machine."
Cuddy blinked. "You're not concerned at all about this?"
"Well, the sloppy public goodbye kiss in the cafeteria was a little unusual, but no not really. He'll have his fun and be bored with it in a day or so."
"...a little unusual," Cuddy said flatly. Wilson started to reply but she held her hand up. "No, no, I don't want to know. I really really don't." She rubbed at her temples and wandered back off.
Wilson sighed and went back to his office to take another look at that leukemia case.
A couple of hours later, Cameron accosted Wilson. "Is it true? That's... god! You and House? And it's illegal!"
Wilson pinched his nose and felt a small wave of sympathy for House's vicodin addiction. If he had to deal with Cameron all the time, he'd be pretty tempted too. "Cameron, I am not actually insane enough to marry House. House is, however, insane enough to steal my wedding ring and go fuck with Cuddy's head for shits and giggles."
"...oh."
"I find it intriguing that you believed it," Wilson said, with a slight eyebrow.
"The lunchlady said he frenched you!"
"Oh, like that's anything new," Wilson said, with exasperation.
"My point exactly!"
Wilson coughed. "...to be clear, here, I was talking about him taking insane liberties with his colleagues in the name of amusing himself, but, all right."
Cameron sighed. "So, seriously, is this why the whole thing with me and him went so spectacularly badly?"
Wilson shook his head slightly. "Believe it or not, I'm not actually having an affair with House. And no, things went badly because House is, well, House."
Cameron sniffed dubiously and stalked off, probably to go gossip with the oncology nurses. Wilson muttered to himself, "Also because you're you, Cameron, and because House never actually cared about you that way."
Chase wandered into House's office during break, coffee cup in hand and grinned. "Hey, heard the good news. Congratulations!" And promptly wandered back off to check up on a patient who'd been having unexplained breathing difficulty.
House pointed after him. "See? If you all were that cool about it, it wouldn't be any fun."
"But if we don't react, you just escalate," Wilson said, reasonably.
"Details!" House said, with an airy wave of his hand.
"I am going to go check on my patient's bowel movements, now, it's less traumatic than this whole conversation," Foreman said. Cameron followed him out, probably still angsting about the supposed affair underneath the practical joke, Wilson thought tiredly.
Cuddy rubbed her temples and regretted bitterly having turned down that massage therapist who'd been looking to do a study on stress in healthcare workers. "Look, Mr. Andrews. He's not gay, he's just playing a practical joke on everyone today. Including his supposed 'husband.'"
House smirked and god, nobody would blame her if she socked him cripple or no, would they? "How do you know it's not both?" he said.
"House, is there some reason you really don't want to treat this guy?" she said, almost managing calm.
"What, other than that he's an annoying bigot? That's not enough?"
Cuddy sighed and turned to the patient who was a fairly bright shade of red. "Go get some therapy, stop repressing, and drink some damn tea. Eat some soup. If you want, I can write you a scrip for a low-level antibiotic but it's not going to do anything the tea and the soup won't. And stop chewing that damn gum. Now go away and stop bothering me." She turned and glared at House. "Happy now?"
"Delirious," House said, leaning in with a leer. "Also, shocked that you noticed the gum," as he straightened up.
"Yes, well, we can't all be the great medical detective but I did actually finish medical school, hard though it is for you to remember," Cuddy said, and kicked him out of the office. It was only by the grace of God she restrained herself from doing so physically.
Wilson rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I find it slightly distressing how many people were, after thinking about it, not that surprised by the concept of us getting married."
"...oh, I'm sorry, did I kick you out of the closet? Whoops," House said.
Wilson sighed. "No, not really, I'm just concerned that people seem to think I am insane enough to marry you. Without having divorced Julie!"
"It just goes to show, you're only the good one by comparison, and people know it."
Wilson scrubbed at his face.
"Well, that's what you get for being such a ho," House said, casually.
Wilson looked at him for a long moment, and decided not to comment. "...Yeah. So, drinks at your place?"
"Sure," House said. "I've still got that girly shit you like to drink."
[ende]
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Page 1 of 2