Fandom 10
Title: Nice
Fandom: House/Midsomer Murders
Rating: G
Summary: House tries to avoid his frustrating English cousin. Barnaby does not want to avoided.
“There are times,” Wilson said patiently. “That being your friend is far more trouble that’s it worth.”
“Just shut up and help me make the bed up,” House growled. “If they find me, I’m blaming you.”
“Why are you so worried about this?” Wilson asked. “I mean, okay, you hate family but come on. The guy wants lunch with you. Is that really so unreasonable?”
“You do not know him!” House snapped. “He has his wife with him. His wife is crazy. He’s crazy too. They twinkle. “
Wilson closed his eyes for a moment. House tended to avoid talking about his family and thus, this was the first he’d really heard about House’s British cousin. All House would actually say was that the man was a policeman. Apparently, this made him evil. Or at least, someone House had no interest in speaking to ever in his whole life. At any rate, House had arrived at Wilson’s house an hour ago and informed him brightly that he was moving in for the foreseeable future until the Barnaby family left America. Naturally, Wilson’s feelings about this were not required.
“He brings death too,” House said darkly. “His wife’s crazy. I’ve seen her. She’s always talking about the cases her husband has solved. Like he’s a genius. Super genius. She kills them for him, I bet. They both act so nice. They have to be evil.”
Wilson decided to ignore this brand of deranged rambling and went for a more obvious angle.
“You could have at least bought food,” he said grumpily.
“Why would I do that?” House asked. “Your cooking is better. Besides, I know how to phone for a pizza. Much better than home cooked rubbish.”
Wilson rolled his eyes and tried to pretend that he really didn’t want to hit House over the head with his own cane. He finished making up the bed and was just preparing for the inevitable irritation of finding that House had stolen things from his fridge when the doorbell rang. Sighing, Wilson headed over to answer it and was greeted by a man with a widow’s peak and bright twinkling eyes and a smiling woman.
“Hello, you must be Wilson!” the man said heartily. “I’m Tom Barnaby, this is my wife, Joyce. Can I speak to Gregory?”
Wilson could hear the ungainly sound somewhere in his flat of House trying to make a run for it. He raised an eyebrow.
“How did you know he was here?” he asked.
“Oh, it wasn’t hard,” Mr Barnaby said. “I just did a few quick investigations. Apparently, you’re the only person that Gregory really likes so it was either you or his team. I thought I’d check you first. After all, it’s easier to stay with a friend than a teammate, isn’t it?”
“I can’t see you staying with Troy,” Mrs Barnaby said. “Oh - Greg!”
She pushed past Wilson and threw her arms around House, who was looking deeply depressed. Mr Barnaby slid past too and grabbed House’s hand, shaking it. Wilson tried not to grin. He could see why House hated these people. So cheery! Poor House.
“We’re ever so much looking forward to spending time with you,” Mrs Barnaby said happily. “It’s been years!”
“Yes, we were hoping you’d show us around!” Mr Barnaby said jovially.
House gave Wilson a look. If it was anyone else, it would have been considered pleading. The sort of expression that suggested “Please don’t leave me with these people.”
“Well House!” Wilson said heartily. “It looks like that consult you wanted from me will have to wait! I’ll let Cuddy know where you’ve gone! I know she’ll let you have time off to spend with your family! She might even want to meet them! That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
House’s look as he was pulled from the apartment was pure poison. Wilson knew that in a few days, he would probably be infested with rats or his food would be spiked with laxatives But it was worth it, just to see House suffer, just a little bit.
Wilson wasn’t always the nice one.
Fandom: House/Midsomer Murders
Rating: G
Summary: House tries to avoid his frustrating English cousin. Barnaby does not want to avoided.
“There are times,” Wilson said patiently. “That being your friend is far more trouble that’s it worth.”
“Just shut up and help me make the bed up,” House growled. “If they find me, I’m blaming you.”
“Why are you so worried about this?” Wilson asked. “I mean, okay, you hate family but come on. The guy wants lunch with you. Is that really so unreasonable?”
“You do not know him!” House snapped. “He has his wife with him. His wife is crazy. He’s crazy too. They twinkle. “
Wilson closed his eyes for a moment. House tended to avoid talking about his family and thus, this was the first he’d really heard about House’s British cousin. All House would actually say was that the man was a policeman. Apparently, this made him evil. Or at least, someone House had no interest in speaking to ever in his whole life. At any rate, House had arrived at Wilson’s house an hour ago and informed him brightly that he was moving in for the foreseeable future until the Barnaby family left America. Naturally, Wilson’s feelings about this were not required.
“He brings death too,” House said darkly. “His wife’s crazy. I’ve seen her. She’s always talking about the cases her husband has solved. Like he’s a genius. Super genius. She kills them for him, I bet. They both act so nice. They have to be evil.”
Wilson decided to ignore this brand of deranged rambling and went for a more obvious angle.
“You could have at least bought food,” he said grumpily.
“Why would I do that?” House asked. “Your cooking is better. Besides, I know how to phone for a pizza. Much better than home cooked rubbish.”
Wilson rolled his eyes and tried to pretend that he really didn’t want to hit House over the head with his own cane. He finished making up the bed and was just preparing for the inevitable irritation of finding that House had stolen things from his fridge when the doorbell rang. Sighing, Wilson headed over to answer it and was greeted by a man with a widow’s peak and bright twinkling eyes and a smiling woman.
“Hello, you must be Wilson!” the man said heartily. “I’m Tom Barnaby, this is my wife, Joyce. Can I speak to Gregory?”
Wilson could hear the ungainly sound somewhere in his flat of House trying to make a run for it. He raised an eyebrow.
“How did you know he was here?” he asked.
“Oh, it wasn’t hard,” Mr Barnaby said. “I just did a few quick investigations. Apparently, you’re the only person that Gregory really likes so it was either you or his team. I thought I’d check you first. After all, it’s easier to stay with a friend than a teammate, isn’t it?”
“I can’t see you staying with Troy,” Mrs Barnaby said. “Oh - Greg!”
She pushed past Wilson and threw her arms around House, who was looking deeply depressed. Mr Barnaby slid past too and grabbed House’s hand, shaking it. Wilson tried not to grin. He could see why House hated these people. So cheery! Poor House.
“We’re ever so much looking forward to spending time with you,” Mrs Barnaby said happily. “It’s been years!”
“Yes, we were hoping you’d show us around!” Mr Barnaby said jovially.
House gave Wilson a look. If it was anyone else, it would have been considered pleading. The sort of expression that suggested “Please don’t leave me with these people.”
“Well House!” Wilson said heartily. “It looks like that consult you wanted from me will have to wait! I’ll let Cuddy know where you’ve gone! I know she’ll let you have time off to spend with your family! She might even want to meet them! That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
House’s look as he was pulled from the apartment was pure poison. Wilson knew that in a few days, he would probably be infested with rats or his food would be spiked with laxatives But it was worth it, just to see House suffer, just a little bit.
Wilson wasn’t always the nice one.