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instant karma's gonna get you (part 1)
Title: instant karma's gonna get you (part 1)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
phinnia
Pairing: House/Thirteen; Wilson/Volakis (ctb); House/Wilson friendship
Spoilers: 4-10 "It's a Wonderful Lie", 4-12 "Don't Ever Change."
Rating: PG for the moment. I have no idea where this is headed.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Still broke. Don't sue.
Notes: Oh god. This is so not my usual thing but it started life as an innocent little valentines' drabble and has now grown into The Fic That Won't Die. Wilson got hold of it and ran. So this is part 1, and part 2 will be along ... at some point in the near future, because this is eating my brain. Seriously, I was supposed to be writing cyberpunk lesbian geishas this afternoon, and this won't leave me alone.
The door flew open, and Wilson knew it was House before he even looked up. House had a way of flinging a door that was unparalleled (in both rudeness and general kinetic energy).
He finished signing the form he'd been working on and looked up as the door bounced back into its frame. "Can I help you?"
"Alright, which one of these," House indicated the objects on his desk with a derisive sweep of his arm, "are you not going to miss?"
"What?"
"I need something."
"You need something off my desk? For what?"
"Doesn't matter, no reason, just pick something and hurry up. Don't you have a lunch to go to? I hear if you show up late she'll cut a pound of flesh out of your hide."
"She happens to like my pound of flesh, and we're going out to dinner tonight. What is up with you? Why are you in here looking for tchotchkies?"
"Kutner."
"What?" Wilson's eyebrows furrowed into a heavy line of fuzz.
House sat down in the visitor's chair. "Kutner - damnit, I really should have made sure he stayed fired one of those times - came up with one of those ridiculous gift exchanges again - I swear he's obsessed with holidays. Probably has one of those page-a-day calendars with National Pancake Week and Hug a Squirrel Day and all that crap on it. And the conniving little bastard told Cuddy about it, and she told me that if I don't go along with their sadistic little pagan ritual she'll make me do double clinic hours and put Brenda in there to supervise me personally to make sure I don't make one of the brats do them."
"So can't you just rig the game like you did last time? If you get yourself, everyone's happy."
"They drew the names ahead of time. I just found out an hour ago."
"So what happened, you get Foreman's name or something? 'Cause he's not a cheap date. He has nicer suits than me. There's no way he's going to take a regifted cancer-kid bauble."
"Thirteen." House mumbled into his hands.
Wilson tried to fight the grin spreading across his face. He lost the battle, but at least was able to mostly disguise his laughter as a fit of coughing. "So ... what? She's cute. Buy her something nice, that's the end of it. Unless ... you don't want it to be." He tipped his chair back, steepling his fingertips together thoughtfully. "You're nervous. This is obviously getting to you. You don't want this to be a one-shot thing. You like her."
"I'm not nervous. I just don't like being played."
"You know, this could be a good thing. We could double date. It'll be fun! And Amber will be thrilled - well, she'll be happy you might not be stalking us as often, anyway."
"Oh hell, you're plotting. If you don't stop that I'll take something random." He held his hand threateningly over Wilson's Zen garden.
"You do and I'll order a dozen long stemmed red roses and send them to her from you." Wilson smirked. "With teddy bear. Chicks love that. And that'll be just the beginning." He tossed his cell phone from hand to hand. "Listen, in all seriousness, why is this bad? Just because you date someone you don't have to ask them to move in with you a week later."
"At least I don't pathologically marry them."
"Maybe so, but I did get laid more." Wilson retorted. "What is wrong with this? She's nice, you haven't been on a date in ... what, three years, and that was blackmail -"
"And this isn't blackmail how?"
"Okay, this is blackmail, fine. Tell you what. I'll call Amber, I'll call the restaurant - it's that new Indian place over on Market, We'll reserve a table for four ..."
"Oh no, no no. I am not allowing you and cutthroat bitch into this travesty-"
"You aren't allowing anything at this point. You don't have to do anything. You don't have to worry about it - you just have to show up and at least make a vague attempt to look presentable. As a matter of fact, I'll pick you up and make sure. Let the love master handle everything." Wilson grinned broadly and twirled an imaginary moustache.
House glared at him through spread fingers. "If I agree to show up will you swear never to say that again?"
"Maaaaaaaaybe."
As he dialled the phone, Wilson had a grin on his face - the grin of guitar-stealing, House realized. His stomach began to sink.
"Lisa? It's James. Listen ..."
"I hate you all." House proclaimed, and slammed the door with enough force to make the diplomas on the wall shake.
(to be continued)
Author:
phinniaPairing: House/Thirteen; Wilson/Volakis (ctb); House/Wilson friendship
Spoilers: 4-10 "It's a Wonderful Lie", 4-12 "Don't Ever Change."
Rating: PG for the moment. I have no idea where this is headed.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Still broke. Don't sue.
Notes: Oh god. This is so not my usual thing but it started life as an innocent little valentines' drabble and has now grown into The Fic That Won't Die. Wilson got hold of it and ran. So this is part 1, and part 2 will be along ... at some point in the near future, because this is eating my brain. Seriously, I was supposed to be writing cyberpunk lesbian geishas this afternoon, and this won't leave me alone.
The door flew open, and Wilson knew it was House before he even looked up. House had a way of flinging a door that was unparalleled (in both rudeness and general kinetic energy).
He finished signing the form he'd been working on and looked up as the door bounced back into its frame. "Can I help you?"
"Alright, which one of these," House indicated the objects on his desk with a derisive sweep of his arm, "are you not going to miss?"
"What?"
"I need something."
"You need something off my desk? For what?"
"Doesn't matter, no reason, just pick something and hurry up. Don't you have a lunch to go to? I hear if you show up late she'll cut a pound of flesh out of your hide."
"She happens to like my pound of flesh, and we're going out to dinner tonight. What is up with you? Why are you in here looking for tchotchkies?"
"Kutner."
"What?" Wilson's eyebrows furrowed into a heavy line of fuzz.
House sat down in the visitor's chair. "Kutner - damnit, I really should have made sure he stayed fired one of those times - came up with one of those ridiculous gift exchanges again - I swear he's obsessed with holidays. Probably has one of those page-a-day calendars with National Pancake Week and Hug a Squirrel Day and all that crap on it. And the conniving little bastard told Cuddy about it, and she told me that if I don't go along with their sadistic little pagan ritual she'll make me do double clinic hours and put Brenda in there to supervise me personally to make sure I don't make one of the brats do them."
"So can't you just rig the game like you did last time? If you get yourself, everyone's happy."
"They drew the names ahead of time. I just found out an hour ago."
"So what happened, you get Foreman's name or something? 'Cause he's not a cheap date. He has nicer suits than me. There's no way he's going to take a regifted cancer-kid bauble."
"Thirteen." House mumbled into his hands.
Wilson tried to fight the grin spreading across his face. He lost the battle, but at least was able to mostly disguise his laughter as a fit of coughing. "So ... what? She's cute. Buy her something nice, that's the end of it. Unless ... you don't want it to be." He tipped his chair back, steepling his fingertips together thoughtfully. "You're nervous. This is obviously getting to you. You don't want this to be a one-shot thing. You like her."
"I'm not nervous. I just don't like being played."
"You know, this could be a good thing. We could double date. It'll be fun! And Amber will be thrilled - well, she'll be happy you might not be stalking us as often, anyway."
"Oh hell, you're plotting. If you don't stop that I'll take something random." He held his hand threateningly over Wilson's Zen garden.
"You do and I'll order a dozen long stemmed red roses and send them to her from you." Wilson smirked. "With teddy bear. Chicks love that. And that'll be just the beginning." He tossed his cell phone from hand to hand. "Listen, in all seriousness, why is this bad? Just because you date someone you don't have to ask them to move in with you a week later."
"At least I don't pathologically marry them."
"Maybe so, but I did get laid more." Wilson retorted. "What is wrong with this? She's nice, you haven't been on a date in ... what, three years, and that was blackmail -"
"And this isn't blackmail how?"
"Okay, this is blackmail, fine. Tell you what. I'll call Amber, I'll call the restaurant - it's that new Indian place over on Market, We'll reserve a table for four ..."
"Oh no, no no. I am not allowing you and cutthroat bitch into this travesty-"
"You aren't allowing anything at this point. You don't have to do anything. You don't have to worry about it - you just have to show up and at least make a vague attempt to look presentable. As a matter of fact, I'll pick you up and make sure. Let the love master handle everything." Wilson grinned broadly and twirled an imaginary moustache.
House glared at him through spread fingers. "If I agree to show up will you swear never to say that again?"
"Maaaaaaaaybe."
As he dialled the phone, Wilson had a grin on his face - the grin of guitar-stealing, House realized. His stomach began to sink.
"Lisa? It's James. Listen ..."
"I hate you all." House proclaimed, and slammed the door with enough force to make the diplomas on the wall shake.
(to be continued)
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