Fic: Say Cheese
Dec. 31st, 2006 03:03 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
daisylily.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
house_wilson_ghcTitle: Say Cheese
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
daisylily
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hw_fest: prompt 45. House has a new hobby. Wilson wants nothing to do with it. This, of course, has no effect. Takes place during season 2, shortly after Distractions.
Spoilers: Only if you haven't seen any of season 2.
Disclaimer: I do not own or control PPTH or any of its employees, sadly. Nor do I own anything that is the intellectual property of D Shore.
Betaing: Huge thanks and a big red lolly delivered by House todeelaundry.
Cross-posted tohw_fest.
"Hmm. I seem to remember someone telling me that I should get a new hobby. And now you're complaining about it."
Wilson had known that encouraging House to find a new interest was foolhardy at best. He had been desperate to stop House from making a farce of von Leiberman's – or rather, Weber's – lecture, and he had known full well that it was like trying to stop an oncoming train with failing brakes. In winter, on icy rails. Running downhill.
Still, he had hoped that House had forgotten the suggestion, after giving himself a migraine and getting Weber's trial stopped, plus the solving of the obscure cause of his patient's accident. Trust House to remember, though...
****
It started about a week after the Weber fuss had died down.
House joined Wilson as he walked down the hallway, and started right on in.
"I've decided to take your advice."
Wilson affected disinterest, although he knew perfectly well that that had never worked before, and wasn't going to work now.
"I'm taking up a new hobby."
"I see."
"Aren't you interested in what it is?"
"I'm sure you're going to tell me, whether I'm interested or not."
"I'm going bog snorkeling."
Wilson tried to make sense of the words, and failed. He stopped and turned to face House, who was – naturally – looking totally sincere.
"You're going what?"
"Bog snorkeling. It's snorkeling. In a bog."
"You are not. And that is not a real hobby." Wilson put on his best I-will-not-be-fooled-by-your-insanity face.
"Look it up on the interweb, Jimmy! Invented by the people of Wales."
"Who clearly have little else to do with their time."
****
Bog snorkeling was never mentioned again, but Wilson knew better than to hope that House had given up on finding a new hobby. Sure enough, the following day, he entered his office to find his desk cleared of everything except a large, partly completed jigsaw puzzle and dozens of puzzle pieces. He sighed deeply, managed to find the file he had wanted (under the desk), and then went along to Diagnostics in search of House.
House's fellows were gathered around the conference room table, which had another puzzle on it. Foreman looked irked, Cameron resigned; Chase was fiddling with the edge of the puzzle.
"Chase, leave my puzzle alone. Go do the tests, all of you," said House, and the fellows left the room, displaying varying degrees of exasperation.
Wilson looked more closely at the puzzle on the table and noticed that it was face down.
"I was going to ask you why there was a jigsaw puzzle on my desk, but this probably answers that question. And I'm sure there's a reasonable answer for this – why is it face down?"
"I've already done it the other way up. I decided to try it this way; it's more challenging."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "So this is your new hobby?"
House looked at him, head tilted slightly to one side. "Yep. You don't like jigsaw puzzles, then?"
"Not in my office, no. And particularly not when it means I have to go looking for all the patient files from my In-tray, because you've dumped them somewhere to make room for your puzzle."
House picked up one of the puzzle pieces and put it neatly in the correct place.
"This table is much better than your desk; much more room to see the pieces properly. I'm waiting to see how long it takes Chase to realize that he could cheat by looking at it from underneath." House glanced up at Wilson. "Best of all, it's really getting to Foreman."
Wilson sighed. "Can't you find a hobby that doesn't involve annoying people?"
House grinned at him.
Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. "Never mind; I don't know why I asked."
****
The jigsaw puzzles disappeared – Wilson suspected that either House had made Cameron tidy them away or Foreman had reached his breaking point and disposed of them – and nothing seemed to replace them. Wilson had known House for a long time, however, and knew better than to think that that was the end of it.
****
By the following week, Wilson had almost – almost – forgotten the whole "hobbies" thing, but when he arrived at work and was greeted by smirks from everyone he met, he was immediately suspicious.
When he got out of the elevator on the fourth floor, he realized the source of the amusement. Stuck to the wall in front of him was a photograph. Of him. Lying on the couch in his office, apparently sleeping. House. He took a closer look. There was a magazine open on his chest, as if he had been reading and then fallen asleep, and oh my God, he would never live this down a number of very naked and very happy men could clearly be seen on its fully-colored, glossy pages. Wilson wondered how House had managed to "plant" the magazine on him; it must have been one of those days where everything had gotten on top of him and his "nap" had turned into a deep and refreshing sleep.
Wilson took several deep breaths, trying in vain to suppress the thought that House would not have taken just one picture, and pocketed the photo. He walked along to Diagnostics, surreptitiously keeping an eye out for any more, and was rewarded – if that was the right word – by another, stuck to House's office door. Naturally it was another photo of Wilson, although this time there was no magazine in sight. It took him a moment to place it, but then he realized that it had been taken the day he'd sought refuge in House's office and fallen asleep in that wonderful reclining chair of his.
He took down the picture, rolling his eyes even though there was no one visible in either House's office or the conference room. Wilson assumed that House and his team were all busy with their current patient, who was (as usual) not responding to treatment.
Wilson returned to his office and started in on his paperwork, trying to ignore the oncoming headache, and the feeling that he hadn't seen the last of the new hobby.
****
He was expecting House to show up at lunch time, but apparently the patient – or his illness – was being particularly uncooperative, because Wilson was halfway through his salad before House appeared.
"Hey, Wilson. Have you got any money? I need ten dollars to buy lunch."
Wilson looked up at House, exasperated. "I found the pictures."
House grinned. That was never a good sign in this kind of conversation.
"Wilson, I need your help. I'm going to set up a website and publish my photos online. I was thinking of doing a series of Cuddy and the Scooby Gang." He sat down opposite Wilson and stole a tomato.
Wilson rubbed the back of his neck and tried to will the headache away, without success.
"I should know better than to ask this, but how do you think that pasting compromising photographs of me around the hospital will persuade me to collude with you?"
House was still grinning. "I thought you should see proof of my skill with the camera before I asked you."
Wilson knew that if he didn't stop House now, things could get very bad indeed.
"No."
House did his head-on-one-side, looking-up-at-Wilson-with-puppy-dog-eyes thing. "Pleeeease?"
Wilson rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face.
"No. And if I see any photos of Cuddy or your team anywhere, I won't pay for your lunch ever again."
Worryingly, House didn't look over-concerned. "Okay. Can I have that ten dollars now?"
Wilson sighed and handed over the money.
****
No photos appeared the following day, and Wilson wondered why House had capitulated so readily. Until he realized that all the female staff on the fourth floor were breaking into huge grins whenever he appeared. With a feeling of impending doom, he went to find Cameron.
Unsurprisingly, he found her in the conference room, doing some of House's paperwork. Also unsurprisingly, she grinned widely when he entered the room.
Wilson sighed. "Cameron, can you tell me why everyone suddenly seems to be finding me so amusing? Please tell me it has nothing to do with House."
Cameron smirked and produced a photo from her vest pocket.
"I took it down for you, but I think everyone already saw it. It was in the ladies' room over by the elevators."
Wilson took the photo from her, feeling increasingly apprehensive. It was another picture of him – of course – and showed the standard "exasperated Wilson" stance, complete with a hand over his face. That would have been fine; the problem was that House had captioned this effort: "Wilson's reaction when I asked him to marry me. G. House."
Wilson thanked Cameron and left the room, trying to ignore the enormous smile on her face. It was only then that he realized that the picture had been taken during the previous day's discussion with House. I didn't see a camera!
****
It was Chase who had put the photo in the ladies' room; Wilson found that out when he was called in to do a bone marrow biopsy on the patient du jour and Chase wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Chase, do you know whether House has any more compromising pictures of me?"
Chase looked up at that, and grimaced. "I think he probably has. When he got me to go in the ladies' room he was supposed to be keeping watch in case anyone came in, but the minute I went in the room, he went somewhere else. Brenda came in and it was very lucky that she saw the photo before she could capture me."
Wilson grinned at that, even though part of him was wondering what other horrors might be in store. He finished the biopsy and went in search of House.
****
House was in his office, playing the usual racing game on his computer. Wilson wasted no time on pleasantries.
"House, this has got to stop. I know it's my own fault, for suggesting you get a hobby, but please, no more."
House smirked at him. "Why, Jimmy! Didn't you like my work?"
"Frankly, no. And another thing, how did you get that picture of me at lunch? Where's the camera?"
House fumbled under his jacket and produced a tiny digital camera, then untangled it to show the wire that controlled the shutter from his pocket. Despite himself, Wilson was impressed.
"Very nice. Where did you get it?"
House tapped the side of his nose and winked exaggeratedly. "I have my sources."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "I don't doubt it. Don't tell me, your patient runs a store that sells spy equipment –" House twitched, almost imperceptibly – "He does, doesn't he?"
House grinned at him again. "Useful, no?"
Wilson remembered that he was supposed to be running a damage limitation exercise. "Very useful, but you're not going to be using it in the hospital anymore. If I see another picture of me or anyone else remotely connected with the hospital, I will make you pay for your own lunch in future. And I'll slash the tires on your bike."
House made an extremely unattractive face at him, and then switched to pouting. "You're no fun."
Wilson dared to hope that he'd won. "I totally agree. Now, where are the rest of the pictures?"
House dug into his desk drawer and handed over two more photos. Both had been taken from the balcony; one showed Wilson consoling a patient and the other showed him rolling joints –
"House! It's bad enough invading my privacy, but my patient's –" he broke off, too annoyed to continue.
"Oh, you can't tell who it is. Quit worrying; they'll be gone soon anyway."
Wilson sighed. It wasn't as if he'd expected anything else, really. "These are the last ones, right?"
House smiled, but it didn't look quite right. Wilson just looked at him. House's expression changed to one of slight concern.
"There is one more, but we may be too late."
****
They arrived outside Cuddy's office just as she was taking the picture down from the inside of the door. She glanced at it, then did a double take and had a closer look.
Cuddy looked up and saw House and Wilson; her expression changed from one of appreciation to one of annoyance. She opened the door for them and gestured to the couch. They both sat.
"Wilson, did you know House was taking this picture?" She handed it over and Wilson inspected it. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. He was standing at a urinal, peeing, and Oh. That's what caused the double take. "HOUSE!"
"Oh relax, it's not like she hasn't seen one before." House looked irritatingly pleased with himself.
Cuddy, however, looked far from pleased. "Are there any more of these anywhere?"
House shrugged. "Only in the camera. Wilson has all the others now."
Cuddy took on her harassed-by-House expression. "Hand over the camera."
House looked indignant. "You can't have it; it's mine. I even paid for it!"
Cuddy held out her hand. "I'm confiscating it. You can have it back later, but only if you promise never to use it on hospital property again. If I ever find any more pictures you've taken, you will be accompanying your fellows on a team-building day."
House gave her the camera. Wilson looked smug.
****
They were out in the hallway before Wilson spoke again.
"House, promise me something."
House looked at him, grinning yet again.
"Please, please – if I ever mention hobbies to you again, just ignore me."
Author:
daisylilyPairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for the
hw_fest: prompt 45. House has a new hobby. Wilson wants nothing to do with it. This, of course, has no effect. Takes place during season 2, shortly after Distractions.Spoilers: Only if you haven't seen any of season 2.
Disclaimer: I do not own or control PPTH or any of its employees, sadly. Nor do I own anything that is the intellectual property of D Shore.
Betaing: Huge thanks and a big red lolly delivered by House to
deelaundry.Cross-posted to
hw_fest."Hmm. I seem to remember someone telling me that I should get a new hobby. And now you're complaining about it."
Wilson had known that encouraging House to find a new interest was foolhardy at best. He had been desperate to stop House from making a farce of von Leiberman's – or rather, Weber's – lecture, and he had known full well that it was like trying to stop an oncoming train with failing brakes. In winter, on icy rails. Running downhill.
Still, he had hoped that House had forgotten the suggestion, after giving himself a migraine and getting Weber's trial stopped, plus the solving of the obscure cause of his patient's accident. Trust House to remember, though...
****
It started about a week after the Weber fuss had died down.
House joined Wilson as he walked down the hallway, and started right on in.
"I've decided to take your advice."
Wilson affected disinterest, although he knew perfectly well that that had never worked before, and wasn't going to work now.
"I'm taking up a new hobby."
"I see."
"Aren't you interested in what it is?"
"I'm sure you're going to tell me, whether I'm interested or not."
"I'm going bog snorkeling."
Wilson tried to make sense of the words, and failed. He stopped and turned to face House, who was – naturally – looking totally sincere.
"You're going what?"
"Bog snorkeling. It's snorkeling. In a bog."
"You are not. And that is not a real hobby." Wilson put on his best I-will-not-be-fooled-by-your-insanity face.
"Look it up on the interweb, Jimmy! Invented by the people of Wales."
"Who clearly have little else to do with their time."
****
Bog snorkeling was never mentioned again, but Wilson knew better than to hope that House had given up on finding a new hobby. Sure enough, the following day, he entered his office to find his desk cleared of everything except a large, partly completed jigsaw puzzle and dozens of puzzle pieces. He sighed deeply, managed to find the file he had wanted (under the desk), and then went along to Diagnostics in search of House.
House's fellows were gathered around the conference room table, which had another puzzle on it. Foreman looked irked, Cameron resigned; Chase was fiddling with the edge of the puzzle.
"Chase, leave my puzzle alone. Go do the tests, all of you," said House, and the fellows left the room, displaying varying degrees of exasperation.
Wilson looked more closely at the puzzle on the table and noticed that it was face down.
"I was going to ask you why there was a jigsaw puzzle on my desk, but this probably answers that question. And I'm sure there's a reasonable answer for this – why is it face down?"
"I've already done it the other way up. I decided to try it this way; it's more challenging."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "So this is your new hobby?"
House looked at him, head tilted slightly to one side. "Yep. You don't like jigsaw puzzles, then?"
"Not in my office, no. And particularly not when it means I have to go looking for all the patient files from my In-tray, because you've dumped them somewhere to make room for your puzzle."
House picked up one of the puzzle pieces and put it neatly in the correct place.
"This table is much better than your desk; much more room to see the pieces properly. I'm waiting to see how long it takes Chase to realize that he could cheat by looking at it from underneath." House glanced up at Wilson. "Best of all, it's really getting to Foreman."
Wilson sighed. "Can't you find a hobby that doesn't involve annoying people?"
House grinned at him.
Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. "Never mind; I don't know why I asked."
****
The jigsaw puzzles disappeared – Wilson suspected that either House had made Cameron tidy them away or Foreman had reached his breaking point and disposed of them – and nothing seemed to replace them. Wilson had known House for a long time, however, and knew better than to think that that was the end of it.
****
By the following week, Wilson had almost – almost – forgotten the whole "hobbies" thing, but when he arrived at work and was greeted by smirks from everyone he met, he was immediately suspicious.
When he got out of the elevator on the fourth floor, he realized the source of the amusement. Stuck to the wall in front of him was a photograph. Of him. Lying on the couch in his office, apparently sleeping. House. He took a closer look. There was a magazine open on his chest, as if he had been reading and then fallen asleep, and oh my God, he would never live this down a number of very naked and very happy men could clearly be seen on its fully-colored, glossy pages. Wilson wondered how House had managed to "plant" the magazine on him; it must have been one of those days where everything had gotten on top of him and his "nap" had turned into a deep and refreshing sleep.
Wilson took several deep breaths, trying in vain to suppress the thought that House would not have taken just one picture, and pocketed the photo. He walked along to Diagnostics, surreptitiously keeping an eye out for any more, and was rewarded – if that was the right word – by another, stuck to House's office door. Naturally it was another photo of Wilson, although this time there was no magazine in sight. It took him a moment to place it, but then he realized that it had been taken the day he'd sought refuge in House's office and fallen asleep in that wonderful reclining chair of his.
He took down the picture, rolling his eyes even though there was no one visible in either House's office or the conference room. Wilson assumed that House and his team were all busy with their current patient, who was (as usual) not responding to treatment.
Wilson returned to his office and started in on his paperwork, trying to ignore the oncoming headache, and the feeling that he hadn't seen the last of the new hobby.
****
He was expecting House to show up at lunch time, but apparently the patient – or his illness – was being particularly uncooperative, because Wilson was halfway through his salad before House appeared.
"Hey, Wilson. Have you got any money? I need ten dollars to buy lunch."
Wilson looked up at House, exasperated. "I found the pictures."
House grinned. That was never a good sign in this kind of conversation.
"Wilson, I need your help. I'm going to set up a website and publish my photos online. I was thinking of doing a series of Cuddy and the Scooby Gang." He sat down opposite Wilson and stole a tomato.
Wilson rubbed the back of his neck and tried to will the headache away, without success.
"I should know better than to ask this, but how do you think that pasting compromising photographs of me around the hospital will persuade me to collude with you?"
House was still grinning. "I thought you should see proof of my skill with the camera before I asked you."
Wilson knew that if he didn't stop House now, things could get very bad indeed.
"No."
House did his head-on-one-side, looking-up-at-Wilson-with-puppy-dog-eyes thing. "Pleeeease?"
Wilson rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face.
"No. And if I see any photos of Cuddy or your team anywhere, I won't pay for your lunch ever again."
Worryingly, House didn't look over-concerned. "Okay. Can I have that ten dollars now?"
Wilson sighed and handed over the money.
****
No photos appeared the following day, and Wilson wondered why House had capitulated so readily. Until he realized that all the female staff on the fourth floor were breaking into huge grins whenever he appeared. With a feeling of impending doom, he went to find Cameron.
Unsurprisingly, he found her in the conference room, doing some of House's paperwork. Also unsurprisingly, she grinned widely when he entered the room.
Wilson sighed. "Cameron, can you tell me why everyone suddenly seems to be finding me so amusing? Please tell me it has nothing to do with House."
Cameron smirked and produced a photo from her vest pocket.
"I took it down for you, but I think everyone already saw it. It was in the ladies' room over by the elevators."
Wilson took the photo from her, feeling increasingly apprehensive. It was another picture of him – of course – and showed the standard "exasperated Wilson" stance, complete with a hand over his face. That would have been fine; the problem was that House had captioned this effort: "Wilson's reaction when I asked him to marry me. G. House."
Wilson thanked Cameron and left the room, trying to ignore the enormous smile on her face. It was only then that he realized that the picture had been taken during the previous day's discussion with House. I didn't see a camera!
****
It was Chase who had put the photo in the ladies' room; Wilson found that out when he was called in to do a bone marrow biopsy on the patient du jour and Chase wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Chase, do you know whether House has any more compromising pictures of me?"
Chase looked up at that, and grimaced. "I think he probably has. When he got me to go in the ladies' room he was supposed to be keeping watch in case anyone came in, but the minute I went in the room, he went somewhere else. Brenda came in and it was very lucky that she saw the photo before she could capture me."
Wilson grinned at that, even though part of him was wondering what other horrors might be in store. He finished the biopsy and went in search of House.
****
House was in his office, playing the usual racing game on his computer. Wilson wasted no time on pleasantries.
"House, this has got to stop. I know it's my own fault, for suggesting you get a hobby, but please, no more."
House smirked at him. "Why, Jimmy! Didn't you like my work?"
"Frankly, no. And another thing, how did you get that picture of me at lunch? Where's the camera?"
House fumbled under his jacket and produced a tiny digital camera, then untangled it to show the wire that controlled the shutter from his pocket. Despite himself, Wilson was impressed.
"Very nice. Where did you get it?"
House tapped the side of his nose and winked exaggeratedly. "I have my sources."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "I don't doubt it. Don't tell me, your patient runs a store that sells spy equipment –" House twitched, almost imperceptibly – "He does, doesn't he?"
House grinned at him again. "Useful, no?"
Wilson remembered that he was supposed to be running a damage limitation exercise. "Very useful, but you're not going to be using it in the hospital anymore. If I see another picture of me or anyone else remotely connected with the hospital, I will make you pay for your own lunch in future. And I'll slash the tires on your bike."
House made an extremely unattractive face at him, and then switched to pouting. "You're no fun."
Wilson dared to hope that he'd won. "I totally agree. Now, where are the rest of the pictures?"
House dug into his desk drawer and handed over two more photos. Both had been taken from the balcony; one showed Wilson consoling a patient and the other showed him rolling joints –
"House! It's bad enough invading my privacy, but my patient's –" he broke off, too annoyed to continue.
"Oh, you can't tell who it is. Quit worrying; they'll be gone soon anyway."
Wilson sighed. It wasn't as if he'd expected anything else, really. "These are the last ones, right?"
House smiled, but it didn't look quite right. Wilson just looked at him. House's expression changed to one of slight concern.
"There is one more, but we may be too late."
****
They arrived outside Cuddy's office just as she was taking the picture down from the inside of the door. She glanced at it, then did a double take and had a closer look.
Cuddy looked up and saw House and Wilson; her expression changed from one of appreciation to one of annoyance. She opened the door for them and gestured to the couch. They both sat.
"Wilson, did you know House was taking this picture?" She handed it over and Wilson inspected it. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. He was standing at a urinal, peeing, and Oh. That's what caused the double take. "HOUSE!"
"Oh relax, it's not like she hasn't seen one before." House looked irritatingly pleased with himself.
Cuddy, however, looked far from pleased. "Are there any more of these anywhere?"
House shrugged. "Only in the camera. Wilson has all the others now."
Cuddy took on her harassed-by-House expression. "Hand over the camera."
House looked indignant. "You can't have it; it's mine. I even paid for it!"
Cuddy held out her hand. "I'm confiscating it. You can have it back later, but only if you promise never to use it on hospital property again. If I ever find any more pictures you've taken, you will be accompanying your fellows on a team-building day."
House gave her the camera. Wilson looked smug.
****
They were out in the hallway before Wilson spoke again.
"House, promise me something."
House looked at him, grinning yet again.
"Please, please – if I ever mention hobbies to you again, just ignore me."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-12-31 03:15 pm (UTC)>>It was another picture of him – of course – and showed the standard "exasperated Wilson" stance, complete with a hand over his face. That would have been fine; the problem was that House had captioned this effort: "Wilson's reaction when I asked him to marry me. G. House."<<
Golden!
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Date: 2007-01-02 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-01-02 04:47 pm (UTC)Thanks!
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Date: 2006-12-31 04:41 pm (UTC)Well done!
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Date: 2006-12-31 05:46 pm (UTC)Nice work
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Date: 2007-01-02 04:51 pm (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2006-12-31 07:56 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-12-31 09:17 pm (UTC)The exasperated Wilson stance, bog snorkeling, and the inappropriate pictures are pure gold.
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Date: 2007-01-01 07:23 pm (UTC)But the candid camera thing - so very House. ^_^
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Date: 2007-01-02 04:57 pm (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2007-10-13 05:29 pm (UTC)