Fic: A Quick Peek
Title: A Quick Peek
Author: arwen_kenobi
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: House/Wilson, Cuddy
Summary: Cuddy plays taxi for Wilson.
Author’s Note: Written for 100_situations’s prompt #78: Dependant.
It started out as being simply annoying. Whenever House’s hay fever acted up he made sure everyone else felt it ten fold. When things had turned from annoying to downright dismal was when Wilson had been called in. Cuddy, despite knowing the pair of them for more time than she cared to admit, couldn’t help but be amazed at the sight of Wilson throwing House out of the hospital and into his car in under an hour. A call had followed later from Wilson requesting for time off for the other man. Apparently House had come down with an increasingly nasty case of the flu; angry yelling in the background from suggested that the clinic was to blame.
That had been Thursday afternoon. On Friday afternoon she received a phone call from Wilson. He sounded like he was coming down with House’s flu and she expected to hear a request for some time off for himself. Then she remembered that Wilson already had booked himself a week off to recuperate from his wisdom teeth surgery, which was booked for tomorrow morning. That made the reason for the call a mystery, a mystery that was quickly solved.
“Can you give me a lift tomorrow?” Wilson asked a slightly congested voice. “House can’t get out of bed.” He sneezed at that moment and House shouted that there was a difference between can’t get out of bed and won’t get out of bed. Wilson sighed. “And I really think the karmatic retribution I’ll suffer if I set him loose on society tomorrow will be astronomical,” he added.
Cuddy laughed heartily. “I’d have to agree with you on that one. Are doing okay though? Think you can handle getting your jaw hacked into if you’re sick?”
“Don’t know and I honestly don’t care,” Wilson replied easily. “I’ll hack these things out myself if I have to wait any longer.”
Cuddy had to stifle another bout of laughter when she heard House shout that he’d do it in a heartbeat if it would get him to shut up about his damn headaches. Admittedly she had to agree with House. Wilson had been prone to headaches since she’d met him, since House had met him, but she’d noticed along with everyone else the slow increase of headaches over the past year or so. House had, seemingly out of the blue, been the one to suggest a trip to the dentist and, as usual, his suspicions had turned out to be right. His increased headaches were caused by impacted third molars and Cuddy hoped that getting them out would mean less of them. Maybe even the end of them.
“I can give you a lift no problem,” Cuddy assured him. “Need someone to stick around after?”
Wilson didn’t have much chance to reply to that. The next thing Cuddy heard was House informing Wilson of his very immanent death if he wasn’t brought food and drugs in the next ten seconds. The details were arranged and goodbyes were said quickly; all to the sound of House loudly counting backwards from ten.
- - - -
It was raining the morning she pulled up to House and Wilson’s apartment. She had just put the car into park when the front door opened and Wilson slowly made his way down the steps. Wilson looked visibly ill now. He was slow in his approach to the car, he was visibly pale and, when he was in the car and good mornings were exchanged, Cuddy noted that his voice was becoming a bit hoarse. “House was up all night,” Wilson explained when he caught his boss’s stare. Cuddy waited until there were on the road before asking what exactly was wrong.
“Nausea,” Wilson enlightened. “Back and forth from the bathroom all night and his leg didn’t appreciate that at all. I don’t think we got anymore than three or four hours of sleep and now he’s got a migraine.”
The explanation for Wilson’s quick arrival at the door made more sense. “Sorry to hear that,” she offered sincerely.
Wilson shrugged it off. “He’s asleep now. I gave him the last bit of Nyquil along with his Vicodin. Hopefully he’ll stay that way for a bit.”
Cuddy shared her hopes for that as she pulled into the parking lot. The dental surgeon’s office was on the first floor of an office building and it appeared they were the first customers of the day. She made herself comfortable in the waiting room, grabbing the nearest copy of Us Weekly, and watched Wilson check in. She gave a wave when Wilson indicated who would be driving him home and gave her a wave in return as he was led away.
She’d made it through two and a half issues of Us Weekly when she was finally signalled for. Despite being a doctor, and having seen her fair share of patients under sedation, she still found it was a bit disconcerting to see Wilson knocked out. Thankfully he came around quick enough, opening his eyes almost as soon as the IV was removed from his left hand, and Cuddy was just as quick to help the surgeon get him back on his feet. She helped him into the next room, settled him into yet another dental chair and watched as the surgeon poked around in his mouth a bit more. After pronouncing all was well, and advising his patient to keep those gauze pads in his mouth until the bleeding had stopped, he handed Cuddy the relevant post-op stuff and the prescription slips.
Wilson was surprisingly lucid and thanked the man as much as he could but had still needed Cuddy’s help to get out to the car. “Want to come with me to get the prescriptions or would you rather I dropped you back home?”
“I’ll come along with you,” he said with effort. “Staying in the car though.” His eyes widened for a moment and he reached into his pocket for his wallet, eventually pulling out a twenty and handing it to Cuddy. “Could you grab some NyQuil and Gravol, please? We’re out of the first one and sure could have used the second one last night.” Cuddy gave a nod and took the offered money.
She made her trip to the drugstore as quick as possible. She walked out, drugs in hand, in under five minutes. Wilson jokingly asked if she was trying to set a new record as she pulled out and headed back to 221. Cuddy responded by trying to break the speed record for the time it took to get him back home.
“You’ll never beat House’s record,” he said in warning.
Cuddy arched an eyebrow. “Do I want to know what that record is?”
“We were on the motorbike, that’s all you need know.”
“We?”
Wilson shrugged. “Not something I do all the time, but something I find goes easier if I’m cooperative.”
Cuddy rolled her eyes and a bright grin crossed her face. That grin left when she parked in front of the apartment building and Wilson was struggling to cough and not cough his gauze pads out. He made his way out of the car before she could ask how he was and offer help; it became obvious that he needed it as he gave the front step a thoughtful stare. He took the offered arm with murmured thanks as he fumbled for his key.
“So did you take it like a man or did you have to hold mommy’s hand?”
Cuddy was surprised to hear House’s voice, a very rough and congested version of House’s voice but his voice none the less, once they opened the door. He was in the process of rising to his feet, albeit with difficulty. He looked miserable, like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and he was leaning very heavily on his cane as he made his way toward them.
“It was fine,” Wilson said dismissively as he shrugged off his coat and turned toward the closet. House intercepted him and said nothing, merely stared at him for a moment. Wilson sighed, dropped his coat on the floor and reached into his mouth to pull out the gauze pads. As soon as they were out House grabbed Wilson’s chin and peered into his mouth.
“Looks good,” House said softly after a moment. He held out his hand toward Cuddy without taking his eyes from Wilson. It took a moment for her to realise what exactly House wanted from her but she was soon handing House the extra gauze pads the dental surgeon had given her.
They were barely in House’s hand when Wilson snatched them. “I’m not an invalid,” Wilson muttered testily as he shoved the new gauze pads into his mouth. “And you’re sick so I don’t want your fingers in my mouth.”
House exchanged a glance with Cuddy. All the eye rolling without the eye rolling, she noted. Wilson chose that moment to sneeze. The glare he fixed at House would have been an impressive one under any other circumstances. This time House did roll his eyes “you’ve had filthier things in your mouth,” he leered obnoxiously. Wilson blushed and Cuddy couldn’t help shutting her eyes and shaking her head briskly back and forth to clear the image. She gave House a pointed glare.
House continued to look pleased with himself. He was grinning like a fiend and his eyes were flashing triumph in Wilson’s direction. Wilson didn’t notice though, he’d already collapsed onto the couch.
“I was there first!” House complained.
“You got up,” Wilson grumbled.
“Sick cripple here!”
“Sick post-wisdom tooth surgery patient here.”
“You’ll be fine in a few days so I win.”
“The long run, yes,” Wilson acknowledged. He shut his eyes and pointed at the blanket on the back of the armchair “For the time being…I think I win.”
“You’re such a wuss,” He limped heavily over to the arm chair, grabbed the frayed plaid blanket and tossed it on top of his friend without unfolding it. Wilson offered a grunt of annoyance but started pulling it into a more useful position.
House walked back to her and eyed the bag in her hand. She handed it over to him before he could open his mouth. “Tylenol Threes, Penicillin, NyQuil, Gravol and some post op stuff you probably won’t read.”
House made a special show of tossing the list of instructions on the floor without a glance. “You need drugs?” he asked Wilson.
“Mouth’s still numb, thanks.”
“Well, I’ve got all the drugs in case you need them.”
“Don’t take mine and don’t give me yours.”
“Spoilsport.”
Wilson didn’t grace House with a reply and Cuddy chose this moment to announce her departure. She had a meeting to get to in an hour.
“And she needs to go recharge her batteries,” House stage whispered to Wilson.
“For the last time, House,” Cuddy intoned wearily. “I am, in fact, human.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, and those funbags aren’t helping your case.”
Wilson told House to shut up before Cuddy could retort. “Thank you so much for your help today,” he said gratefully. She was assuring him that it was no trouble when House took a seat on the couch; right on top Wilson’s feet.
“Get your bony ass off my feet,” Wilson ordered with a glare. Even as he said it he was pulling his feet out from under the other man.
“Rest those on me and you lose ‘em,” House threatened. Wilson ignored him but did shift further up the couch so his feet wouldn’t reach House’s right thigh. House made no move to shove them off.
Cuddy smiled affectionately, both of them were too engrossed in fighting over the television to notice it. “I’ll see you guys later. Play nice and get well soon.”
There was no reply but Cuddy was still smiling as she made her way to the door. She even let out a quiet chuckle as she closed the door quietly behind her.
Author: arwen_kenobi
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: House/Wilson, Cuddy
Summary: Cuddy plays taxi for Wilson.
Author’s Note: Written for 100_situations’s prompt #78: Dependant.
It started out as being simply annoying. Whenever House’s hay fever acted up he made sure everyone else felt it ten fold. When things had turned from annoying to downright dismal was when Wilson had been called in. Cuddy, despite knowing the pair of them for more time than she cared to admit, couldn’t help but be amazed at the sight of Wilson throwing House out of the hospital and into his car in under an hour. A call had followed later from Wilson requesting for time off for the other man. Apparently House had come down with an increasingly nasty case of the flu; angry yelling in the background from suggested that the clinic was to blame.
That had been Thursday afternoon. On Friday afternoon she received a phone call from Wilson. He sounded like he was coming down with House’s flu and she expected to hear a request for some time off for himself. Then she remembered that Wilson already had booked himself a week off to recuperate from his wisdom teeth surgery, which was booked for tomorrow morning. That made the reason for the call a mystery, a mystery that was quickly solved.
“Can you give me a lift tomorrow?” Wilson asked a slightly congested voice. “House can’t get out of bed.” He sneezed at that moment and House shouted that there was a difference between can’t get out of bed and won’t get out of bed. Wilson sighed. “And I really think the karmatic retribution I’ll suffer if I set him loose on society tomorrow will be astronomical,” he added.
Cuddy laughed heartily. “I’d have to agree with you on that one. Are doing okay though? Think you can handle getting your jaw hacked into if you’re sick?”
“Don’t know and I honestly don’t care,” Wilson replied easily. “I’ll hack these things out myself if I have to wait any longer.”
Cuddy had to stifle another bout of laughter when she heard House shout that he’d do it in a heartbeat if it would get him to shut up about his damn headaches. Admittedly she had to agree with House. Wilson had been prone to headaches since she’d met him, since House had met him, but she’d noticed along with everyone else the slow increase of headaches over the past year or so. House had, seemingly out of the blue, been the one to suggest a trip to the dentist and, as usual, his suspicions had turned out to be right. His increased headaches were caused by impacted third molars and Cuddy hoped that getting them out would mean less of them. Maybe even the end of them.
“I can give you a lift no problem,” Cuddy assured him. “Need someone to stick around after?”
Wilson didn’t have much chance to reply to that. The next thing Cuddy heard was House informing Wilson of his very immanent death if he wasn’t brought food and drugs in the next ten seconds. The details were arranged and goodbyes were said quickly; all to the sound of House loudly counting backwards from ten.
- - - -
It was raining the morning she pulled up to House and Wilson’s apartment. She had just put the car into park when the front door opened and Wilson slowly made his way down the steps. Wilson looked visibly ill now. He was slow in his approach to the car, he was visibly pale and, when he was in the car and good mornings were exchanged, Cuddy noted that his voice was becoming a bit hoarse. “House was up all night,” Wilson explained when he caught his boss’s stare. Cuddy waited until there were on the road before asking what exactly was wrong.
“Nausea,” Wilson enlightened. “Back and forth from the bathroom all night and his leg didn’t appreciate that at all. I don’t think we got anymore than three or four hours of sleep and now he’s got a migraine.”
The explanation for Wilson’s quick arrival at the door made more sense. “Sorry to hear that,” she offered sincerely.
Wilson shrugged it off. “He’s asleep now. I gave him the last bit of Nyquil along with his Vicodin. Hopefully he’ll stay that way for a bit.”
Cuddy shared her hopes for that as she pulled into the parking lot. The dental surgeon’s office was on the first floor of an office building and it appeared they were the first customers of the day. She made herself comfortable in the waiting room, grabbing the nearest copy of Us Weekly, and watched Wilson check in. She gave a wave when Wilson indicated who would be driving him home and gave her a wave in return as he was led away.
She’d made it through two and a half issues of Us Weekly when she was finally signalled for. Despite being a doctor, and having seen her fair share of patients under sedation, she still found it was a bit disconcerting to see Wilson knocked out. Thankfully he came around quick enough, opening his eyes almost as soon as the IV was removed from his left hand, and Cuddy was just as quick to help the surgeon get him back on his feet. She helped him into the next room, settled him into yet another dental chair and watched as the surgeon poked around in his mouth a bit more. After pronouncing all was well, and advising his patient to keep those gauze pads in his mouth until the bleeding had stopped, he handed Cuddy the relevant post-op stuff and the prescription slips.
Wilson was surprisingly lucid and thanked the man as much as he could but had still needed Cuddy’s help to get out to the car. “Want to come with me to get the prescriptions or would you rather I dropped you back home?”
“I’ll come along with you,” he said with effort. “Staying in the car though.” His eyes widened for a moment and he reached into his pocket for his wallet, eventually pulling out a twenty and handing it to Cuddy. “Could you grab some NyQuil and Gravol, please? We’re out of the first one and sure could have used the second one last night.” Cuddy gave a nod and took the offered money.
She made her trip to the drugstore as quick as possible. She walked out, drugs in hand, in under five minutes. Wilson jokingly asked if she was trying to set a new record as she pulled out and headed back to 221. Cuddy responded by trying to break the speed record for the time it took to get him back home.
“You’ll never beat House’s record,” he said in warning.
Cuddy arched an eyebrow. “Do I want to know what that record is?”
“We were on the motorbike, that’s all you need know.”
“We?”
Wilson shrugged. “Not something I do all the time, but something I find goes easier if I’m cooperative.”
Cuddy rolled her eyes and a bright grin crossed her face. That grin left when she parked in front of the apartment building and Wilson was struggling to cough and not cough his gauze pads out. He made his way out of the car before she could ask how he was and offer help; it became obvious that he needed it as he gave the front step a thoughtful stare. He took the offered arm with murmured thanks as he fumbled for his key.
“So did you take it like a man or did you have to hold mommy’s hand?”
Cuddy was surprised to hear House’s voice, a very rough and congested version of House’s voice but his voice none the less, once they opened the door. He was in the process of rising to his feet, albeit with difficulty. He looked miserable, like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and he was leaning very heavily on his cane as he made his way toward them.
“It was fine,” Wilson said dismissively as he shrugged off his coat and turned toward the closet. House intercepted him and said nothing, merely stared at him for a moment. Wilson sighed, dropped his coat on the floor and reached into his mouth to pull out the gauze pads. As soon as they were out House grabbed Wilson’s chin and peered into his mouth.
“Looks good,” House said softly after a moment. He held out his hand toward Cuddy without taking his eyes from Wilson. It took a moment for her to realise what exactly House wanted from her but she was soon handing House the extra gauze pads the dental surgeon had given her.
They were barely in House’s hand when Wilson snatched them. “I’m not an invalid,” Wilson muttered testily as he shoved the new gauze pads into his mouth. “And you’re sick so I don’t want your fingers in my mouth.”
House exchanged a glance with Cuddy. All the eye rolling without the eye rolling, she noted. Wilson chose that moment to sneeze. The glare he fixed at House would have been an impressive one under any other circumstances. This time House did roll his eyes “you’ve had filthier things in your mouth,” he leered obnoxiously. Wilson blushed and Cuddy couldn’t help shutting her eyes and shaking her head briskly back and forth to clear the image. She gave House a pointed glare.
House continued to look pleased with himself. He was grinning like a fiend and his eyes were flashing triumph in Wilson’s direction. Wilson didn’t notice though, he’d already collapsed onto the couch.
“I was there first!” House complained.
“You got up,” Wilson grumbled.
“Sick cripple here!”
“Sick post-wisdom tooth surgery patient here.”
“You’ll be fine in a few days so I win.”
“The long run, yes,” Wilson acknowledged. He shut his eyes and pointed at the blanket on the back of the armchair “For the time being…I think I win.”
“You’re such a wuss,” He limped heavily over to the arm chair, grabbed the frayed plaid blanket and tossed it on top of his friend without unfolding it. Wilson offered a grunt of annoyance but started pulling it into a more useful position.
House walked back to her and eyed the bag in her hand. She handed it over to him before he could open his mouth. “Tylenol Threes, Penicillin, NyQuil, Gravol and some post op stuff you probably won’t read.”
House made a special show of tossing the list of instructions on the floor without a glance. “You need drugs?” he asked Wilson.
“Mouth’s still numb, thanks.”
“Well, I’ve got all the drugs in case you need them.”
“Don’t take mine and don’t give me yours.”
“Spoilsport.”
Wilson didn’t grace House with a reply and Cuddy chose this moment to announce her departure. She had a meeting to get to in an hour.
“And she needs to go recharge her batteries,” House stage whispered to Wilson.
“For the last time, House,” Cuddy intoned wearily. “I am, in fact, human.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, and those funbags aren’t helping your case.”
Wilson told House to shut up before Cuddy could retort. “Thank you so much for your help today,” he said gratefully. She was assuring him that it was no trouble when House took a seat on the couch; right on top Wilson’s feet.
“Get your bony ass off my feet,” Wilson ordered with a glare. Even as he said it he was pulling his feet out from under the other man.
“Rest those on me and you lose ‘em,” House threatened. Wilson ignored him but did shift further up the couch so his feet wouldn’t reach House’s right thigh. House made no move to shove them off.
Cuddy smiled affectionately, both of them were too engrossed in fighting over the television to notice it. “I’ll see you guys later. Play nice and get well soon.”
There was no reply but Cuddy was still smiling as she made her way to the door. She even let out a quiet chuckle as she closed the door quietly behind her.