To Be Named Later (PG)
Feb. 3rd, 2008 08:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deelaundryTitle: To Be Named Later
Author: Dee Laundry
Rating: PG
Words: 545
Summary: Wilson had put up with a lot of prying from House, but he couldn’t take it any more.
Notes: Snippet! (Why no, I’m not procrastinating, why do you ask?) Short imagining of what might happen the next time House pries into Wilson’s love life. NO SPOILERS.
This was the last straw. Wilson had put up with a lot of prying from House, but he couldn’t take it any more.
He confronted the lion right in his own den, bursting into the conference room, the fellows and Foreman be damned.
“Knock it off!” he shouted. Thirteen jumped, scattering the papers in front of her and almost knocking over Taub’s coffee. Taub swung the coffee away and a few drops flicked onto Foreman’s tie, causing him to jump up and send his chair hurtling to the floor. Kutner, unmoving, watched the scene with a disturbingly gleeful glint in his eye.
House looked up at Wilson with mild interest. “What?”
“Quit snooping around because you think I’m sleeping with someone.” Wilson ordered, in a more moderate but still heated tone.
“Oh, that.”
The team had just about set the table to rights, but Wilson had no time for that. This point had to be impressed upon House.
“You’re not going to find any woman, anyway. Remember the last time you...” He flapped his hands and ignored House’s smirk. “...got all crazy and dug around? It wasn’t –” He paused for a second, remembering. “No, wait, the last time was when I took Cuddy out, as friends. The time before that, remember? It was Foreman.”
Kutner perked up, a goofy grin stretched across his mug. “You dated Foreman?”
“What?” Wilson yelled, startled, as Foreman started to choke.
“You said,” Kutner relayed, that stupid grin not fading and in fact becoming matched with a parallel one on House’s face, “that last time you took out Cuddy and before that it was Foreman.”
Oh, peas in a pod, they were. Fucking peas in a pod. “No, that’s not what I said.”
“Yes, it is,” House said, and Wilson swung his fury onto the bastard who started this whole thing.
“Yes, it is,” Thirteen echoed, but Wilson didn’t have energy to spare for her.
“I meant,” Wilson insisted, trying to glare down Kutner and House at the same time, “that House thought I was dating a nurse but really it was Foreman.”
Even Taub was smiling now, and that drove Wilson over the edge. “Who was dating the nurse!”
“Suuuure,” Kutner said as he eased past Wilson and out into the hall, patient file in hand.
“House!” Wilson protested.
Spreading his arms in a faux-innocent, completely infuriating gesture, House said, “Don’t look at me. You’re the one who said Chase was hot.”
“When did I –” Wilson scoffed. “Oh, when you were drooling over the CIA doctor. That was in the context of Foreman thinking he was hot!”
From over by the coffee maker, Foreman interjected, “Leave me out of it.” As all eyes turned to him, he made a weird face that Wilson realized belatedly was meant to convey sniffling. “You know I just haven’t been the same since you broke my heart.”
Taub out-and-out laughed, Thirteen buried her face in her arms, and House high-fived a grinning Foreman.
Dead. They were all of them dead, and the gimpy prick would be the first to go. “Good luck getting a consult on your next suspected sarcoidosis,” Wilson threatened as he stomped out the door to the sound of snickering.
House was so not getting any tonight.
Author: Dee Laundry
Rating: PG
Words: 545
Summary: Wilson had put up with a lot of prying from House, but he couldn’t take it any more.
Notes: Snippet! (Why no, I’m not procrastinating, why do you ask?) Short imagining of what might happen the next time House pries into Wilson’s love life. NO SPOILERS.
This was the last straw. Wilson had put up with a lot of prying from House, but he couldn’t take it any more.
He confronted the lion right in his own den, bursting into the conference room, the fellows and Foreman be damned.
“Knock it off!” he shouted. Thirteen jumped, scattering the papers in front of her and almost knocking over Taub’s coffee. Taub swung the coffee away and a few drops flicked onto Foreman’s tie, causing him to jump up and send his chair hurtling to the floor. Kutner, unmoving, watched the scene with a disturbingly gleeful glint in his eye.
House looked up at Wilson with mild interest. “What?”
“Quit snooping around because you think I’m sleeping with someone.” Wilson ordered, in a more moderate but still heated tone.
“Oh, that.”
The team had just about set the table to rights, but Wilson had no time for that. This point had to be impressed upon House.
“You’re not going to find any woman, anyway. Remember the last time you...” He flapped his hands and ignored House’s smirk. “...got all crazy and dug around? It wasn’t –” He paused for a second, remembering. “No, wait, the last time was when I took Cuddy out, as friends. The time before that, remember? It was Foreman.”
Kutner perked up, a goofy grin stretched across his mug. “You dated Foreman?”
“What?” Wilson yelled, startled, as Foreman started to choke.
“You said,” Kutner relayed, that stupid grin not fading and in fact becoming matched with a parallel one on House’s face, “that last time you took out Cuddy and before that it was Foreman.”
Oh, peas in a pod, they were. Fucking peas in a pod. “No, that’s not what I said.”
“Yes, it is,” House said, and Wilson swung his fury onto the bastard who started this whole thing.
“Yes, it is,” Thirteen echoed, but Wilson didn’t have energy to spare for her.
“I meant,” Wilson insisted, trying to glare down Kutner and House at the same time, “that House thought I was dating a nurse but really it was Foreman.”
Even Taub was smiling now, and that drove Wilson over the edge. “Who was dating the nurse!”
“Suuuure,” Kutner said as he eased past Wilson and out into the hall, patient file in hand.
“House!” Wilson protested.
Spreading his arms in a faux-innocent, completely infuriating gesture, House said, “Don’t look at me. You’re the one who said Chase was hot.”
“When did I –” Wilson scoffed. “Oh, when you were drooling over the CIA doctor. That was in the context of Foreman thinking he was hot!”
From over by the coffee maker, Foreman interjected, “Leave me out of it.” As all eyes turned to him, he made a weird face that Wilson realized belatedly was meant to convey sniffling. “You know I just haven’t been the same since you broke my heart.”
Taub out-and-out laughed, Thirteen buried her face in her arms, and House high-fived a grinning Foreman.
Dead. They were all of them dead, and the gimpy prick would be the first to go. “Good luck getting a consult on your next suspected sarcoidosis,” Wilson threatened as he stomped out the door to the sound of snickering.
House was so not getting any tonight.