Cuddy's 4th of July swim party, Chapter 3. In the fic: A lot of boring nothing, but one truly astonishing element. In the MST: Wilson introduces a different astonishing element (dedicated to amysusanne on TWoP).( Jump right in; the water's fine )
Cuddy: I got a page.
House: Like from the Senate? I heard they’re almost as good as Presidential interns at servicing governing bodies.
Cuddy: *sigh* A page on my pager? Chapter 3 of the pool party bad!fic is up.
House: Cool! Cameron, go get Wilson. He’s been acting a little weird lately, so tell him we need him for a consult.
Cameron: I don’t think I can lie to Dr. Wilson.
House: Fine. Just start talking about your issues, and when he falls asleep, drag him in here by the hair.
Foreman: What is House MD?
House: Maybe fic!me hired Ed McMahon to follow me around. “Heeeeeeeere’s Greggy!”
Wilson: That sounds more “Shining” than “Tonight Show.”
House: Wilson! I haven’t seen you all day. Give me a kiss!
Wilson: You’re kidding, right?
Wilson: I’m straight; you’re straight. There’s no way in hell we’re going to kiss.
(A/N: YAY EVERYONE WHO GOT THAT RIGHT! OR EVEN JUST TRIED!)”
Cameron: Tried what?
House: *impatiently* Some stupid thing from the previous chapters. Wilson, what are you talking about?
Wilson: House, you’re 47. I’m… I don’t even know how old I am, but I’m clearly an established adult. If either of us had homosexual tendencies, we would have known long ago and acted on them. We’d have rainbow bumper stickers on our cars and posters of Barbra Streisand movies in our offices. We don’t. Ergo, we must be completely straight.
She said smiling at her three legged friend who disguised himself like a foe.
Cameron: You’re not going to make a “middle leg” joke?
House: *sulking* No.
“No it’s…hey how did you know?” House asked a little shocked.
Chase: I’ve totally lost the thread of what’s going on in this fic.
Wilson: Fic!House figured out that fic!Cuddy’s phone number could spell out “House MD” on a touch-tone phone, the way only a genius could. No, wait, a genius or a typical eight-year old child.
House: *still sulking*
“Wilson helped me pick it out, it’s been that way for oh let’s see about two years, we wanted to see how long it would take you” she smiled at him her brown hair glistening from water.
Foreman: I’m so depressed by the mis-punctuation there that I can’t even tell you.
Cuddy: If we were doing the punctuation drinking game, that’d be, oh, let’s see, seven shots. Cameron, you weigh what? 80 pounds?
Cameron: 95 pounds.
Cuddy: Your BAC would be about .30. Just from one sentence.
Wilson: That wouldn’t be so bad. It’d loosen you up a little. *smile that’s just this side of a leer*
House: *deeper sulk*
Wilson looked over at his friend who was sitting on the couch inside and drinking a beer. A Fat Tire to be exact.
Chase: What’s Fat Tire?
House: A beer, duh. It’s a lot like Foster’s except it actually tastes good.
Chase: Aren’t you a grumpy Gus now that Wilson won’t play with you?
He watched as he sat staring at emptiness. He started to think about how misleading House’s eyes were.
House: Ha! You’re thinking about my eyes. Foreman! Thinking about another man’s eyes: Gay or straight?
Chase: Why didn’t you ask me?
House: Yeah, you’d really be able to judge.
Wilson: I will simply point out that that is fic!me, who is obviously a little bit emo. I’ve never noticed your eyes at all. Cameron, what color are they? Green? Hazel?
Cameron: Don’t bring me into this, please.
They said they were fine because the electric blue distracted you from seeing beyond that. They were eyes that held a great deal of anger and pain. An addiction not for pain pills but for sorrow, something few noticed.
Cuddy: The eyes said the eyes were fine?
Cameron: And House is not addicted to pain pills?
Wilson: Ladies, I know something that could distract you from the lack of sense…
Chase: Now you’re scaring all of us, Wilson.
“House!” called the oncologist from outside. “House!” finally he lifted his ageing head up and turned toward him.
Foreman: (as Wilson) “Cuddy’s going to kill you for sitting on her furniture in your wet clothes!”
House: *still sulking*
“WILSON! WILSON!” he yelled louder then Wilson had yelled his name. Wilson got up and moved inside and sat next to his friend.
“Sorry I was just trying to get your attention. So, do you want to go play the games they’re doing outside?” House shrugged a yes.
Chase: Does that gesture mean something different in the US? In Australia, we use a nod for “yes,” and a shrug for “I don’t know” or “it doesn’t matter.”
House: Sometimes when Wilson does it, a shrug means, “Sure I’ll give you a blowjob.”
Wilson: I’m so straight that I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Cuddy posted the results
Dodge Ball: Team 2
Treasure Hunt: Foreman
Foreman: It was easy for fic!me because the clones helped me.
Cuddy: Remember Chapter 2, when the author spelled his name “Foremen”?
Cameron: I block out bad!fic as soon as it’s over. Like that one crazy fic where I stole meth from a patient, took a bunch of it, called Chase over for a booty call, and then had sex with him against a wall. I’ve blocked that totally out.
Foreman: Um, Cameron…?
Cameron: Isn’t cricket a team sport?
Chase: Maybe I was the captain.
House: Or maybe you played by yourself because no one else cares about your stupid British sport.
Cameron: And aren’t cricket games really long?
Chase: Well, it could be… Alright, you caught me. I was playing slap-and-tickle with fic!Cuddy and told her it was called cricket.
Cuddy: Why not? I’m not immune to the hawt. You really should cut that hair, though.
Tree Climbing: Robinson
Egg toss: Wilson and Cuddy
Robert Sean Leonard: Hmm. That might be another secret Season 3 spoiler.
Hugh Laurie: What are you, the spoiler police? Going to lay your black bar across everything?
RSL: You gotta get Omar for that.
Balloon toss: Chase and Obe
Three legged race: House and his cane
All: *stunned silence*
Cuddy: That… *back to stunned*
Cameron: *wary* I think that line might have actually been funny.
Chase: Intentionally funny.
Foreman: OK, it’s not a totally original concept, but still…
House: An intentionally funny line. I – I – I don’t know who I am any more. Wilson, hold me.
Wilson: House, we are straight men. We do not hold each other. We don’t even give full hugs unless (a) tragic circumstances; (b) personal life-changing event; or (c) our favorite sports team wins something.
House: A funny line in a bad!fic isn’t life-changing? Fine. You can just sit on my lap.
Wilson: Foreman, lap-sitting: straight or gay?
Wilson: Therefore, I’m not doing it.
House: Foreman, blow-drying your hair: straight or gay?
Foreman: What a man does in his own place is his own business.
House started to get another beer.
“You’ve had enough. What did you drive here? Your bike? You shouldn’t have any more” Wilson argued.
House: Anybody going to make a “Wilson is a nagging woman” joke?
All: Too bored.
“Okay Mommy!” House continued drinking it.
“Hey Cuddy!” House called over.
“Hey House.” She said making her way across the room.
“Do you like my phone number? Wilson helped me too!”
Cuddy: That stupid “spelling words out with your phone number” gag.
Cameron: Oh, I must have blocked that out already. Just like the time in that one bad!fic where House used a remote-controlled robot to molest me. That was really ridiculous.
Cuddy: Um, Cameron…?
Tell next time. Keep reviewing. THANKS!
Foreman: “Tell” next time?
Cuddy: The fic’s over; just leave it.
Chase: Hey, Cameron, want to hit the MRI room?
Cameron: Why not?
Wilson: Hmm, I’ve got a half-hour until my next appointment. I think I could squeeze in a quickie with that new nurse, Miss Timbershiver. Rawr, she’s a hottie.
Cuddy: You’re telling me!
Everyone leaves except House.
House sits in his office chair, facing the back windows, chin propped on his cane. Wilson refusing to act homoerotically; an intentionally funny line in a bad!fic… What’s the world coming to?
He’s caught up in his brooding and doesn’t bother to turn around when the door quietly opens. With how things are going, it’s probably Chase wanting to say something intelligent or Foreman wanting to say something funny.
He startles just a bit when he feels lips pressing against his neck.
Wilson: Had you going, didn’t I?
House: Close the blinds.