Fulfilled Drabble Requests
So I wrote these today based on yesterday's post requesting you guys leave me prompts. Go leave more! This was fun. I was originally just going to post this stuff over there, but then one of them refused to end and became a full-fledged fic. So I decided to post the two of them here together!
Babysitting (House/Cuddy)
For alice_1005
Prompt; "There's absolutely nothing you could do to make me babysit."
400 words
(Written before tonight's episode aired.)
"Hi honeybunches,” House answered the phone before Cuddy even had a chance to open her mouth.
"House?"
"Mhm. Yes, of course I will, sweetiebuns,” he continued.
"The team's there, aren't they?"
"Why, Cuddlebunny, would you even have to ask?"
Cuddy rolled her eyes. “Let me know when they’re gone so we can have an actual conversation.”
“Yes, kisses to you too and-okay. They’re gone.”
“I hope that was fun for you.”
“Very. You should have seen Foreman’s face. I thought he was gonna vomit all over the table.”
“That makes two of us. I never want to hear any of those names ever again.”
“Shame, I was really thinking that ‘Cuddlebunny’ was the way to go.”
Cuddy ignored him and went on. “Listen, House, can you do me a favor today?”
“Does it involve taking my pants off?”
“I need you to watch Rachel for a few hours after work. I know you don’t have a case, and I have a meeting-“
“No.”
“House.”
“I don’t ask you to babysit Wilson for me,” he grouched.
“It’ll just be for a few hours. And you’re the one who said last week you wanted to get to know her.”
“With you. What am I supposed to do with your kid by myself?”
“House, she’s two. Set her up in front of the tv, give her a few toys, and she’ll be fine.”
“Where’s whats-her-face, Nanny McPhee?”
“Marina has the flu, and the back-up nanny is taking midterms. I need you.”
“There’s absolutely nothing you could do to make me babysit,” House declared with finality.
“Wanna bet?”
House was silent for a moment, giving Cuddy the space she needed to push forward triumphantly. “There may be nothing I can do, but there are plenty of things I can not do if we’re playing that game. I can not see you, I can not approve anything you do at work, I can not have sex with you, I can not…”
“Yeah, okay, I get it,” he interrupted.
“And anyway, you want this to be serious, and I want this to be serious. So be serious for me. Watch my kid watch TV and don’t kill her, please.”
“And in return…?” he pushed.
“You get to share in the delight of living my life.”
He snorted.
“It means a lot to me, House.”
“Yeah, yeah. Can I go now?” Despite his seeming nonchalance, Cuddy was attuned to the affection there.
“Sure. I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Or so you think. If I live through this,” House complained.
“Drama Queen.”
“Spoiled Bitch.”
“Rude Bastard.”
“…”
“Bye, House.”
“Bye, Cuddy.”
Cuddy hung up the phone with a smile.
The Chase Crisis (House & Chase, House/Cuddy)
For wawwhite
Prompt; some kind of father-figure fluff
1,000 words
(This one got a little out of hand, haha. And it's not all that fluffy, but I tried.)
“What do you want.”
Chase jumped. He didn’t realize House was still around. “Where’s Cuddy?” he asked in confusion. He cast a glance around the office as if Cuddy would pop up from under some piece of furniture and make his boss’s late night presence more acceptable.
House looked up from the book he was thumbing, giving Chase his usual why-do-I-ever-bother glare over the top of his reading glasses. “Where’s…” he gave Chase the once over, “any one of your recent harem?”
The two stared at each other for a second, then both went back to their own business without reply. Chase took a seat at the DDX table and House sipped out of his coffee mug, feet propped up on his desk.
Chase soon almost forgot that House was there, absorbed in the medical texts propped up around him, when he heard House loudly clearing his throat. He ignored it, but then House did it again. “What?” Chase shouted into the other room.
“What?” House echoed innocently, “guy can’t clear his throat?”
“Not you. Not without some kind of motive.” Chase narrowed his eyes at House. House pointedly cleared his throat again through the glass. Chase rolled his eyes but gave up and walked into the other room, hands in his pockets.
House pushed his coffee cup across his desk wordlessly.
“What’s this?” Chase asked.
House had already turned back to his book. “Arsenic.”
Chase reached tentatively for the mug. It was no secret House occasionally did take to drugging people, and while Chase couldn’t remember doing anything particularly poison-worthy recently, you never knew.
“It’s almost midnight and you’re here, in the office, alone, for the first time in a month and not out with one of your hooker-turned-girlfriends. We don’t have a case, I’m not pissed off at you beyond the norm so you have no reason to be doing medical research, and your skin is puffy around your eyes because you haven’t been sleeping. You were almost as grouchy as Foreman today though, so it’s not due to sex. Which means…”
He paused to look once more at Chase, who was clutching House’s mug dumbly halfway to his mouth. House nodded, and Chase took a sip. Immediately Chase scrunched up his face in dislike.
“Which means you’ve finally realized your new way of life is just as unsatisfying as they all say it is, and you’re seeking a deeper connection, but none of your recent Baby Mamas have married dead guys and frozen their sperm, so you gotta keep looking, and you don’t know how much more looking you can do. After all that hair will only get you so far.”
“That is not-“
House cleared his throat loudly and more obnoxiously than before. “And you need a drink. Shut up, sit down, and grab that card deck from over there.”
Chase, confused but intrigued, did so. House stole the deck from him and began to shuffle it. He paused to fish a small bottle of whiskey out of his desk, which he refilled Chase’s mug with before he plucked an empty coffee cup out of the trash by his desk for himself.
“Where’s Cuddy?” Chase asked again.
“We’re fighting,” House said simply, focused on the deck in his hands. He didn’t elaborate for Chase, just averted his eyes to the deck. After a moment he looked up. “Red or black?” He tapped the top card.
“Huh? Uh-red, I guess,” Chase said.
House flipped the card. Red eight.
“Lower or higher?” House asked.
“What is-?”
“Is the card I’m about to flip lower or higher than this eight?”
“Lower.”
House flipped a Queen of hearts, then shook his head at Chase. He pointed at the cards. “Take two drinks.”
Chase hesitated. House didn’t look like he was about to back down, so Chase gave in and drank. House passed the deck to him as soon as he set the mug back down. “Your turn.”
Chase caught on quickly, and the two went back and forth for a while, drinking and flipping cards in peace. At one point House caught Chase giving him a questioning look.
House shrugged by way of explanation: “Misery loves company.”
And that was enough for the two of them.
Eventually Chase was staring down into an empty mug, greeted by an empty whiskey bottle standing between them. House snatched the deck out of Chase’s palms and shoved it back into his desk drawer. “Chase,” he said, leaning forward and steepling his hands together so he could put his chin on them.
“Yeah?”
“GO HOME!” House yelled.
Chase rocked backwards in surprise, almost toppling over. House gave him a strangely candid grin, and Chase started to laugh. Before he knew it House was chuckling too, and Chase felt oddly victorious, although he couldn’t pin down exactly why. He collected his bag and his coat.
“And Chase?” House asked when Chase was halfway out the room. “Don’t tell Foreman about-“ he wiggled his finger back and forth between them as explanation. “He’s a jealous bastard.”
Chase nodded solemnly.
House watched him leave, then tipped his full cup of whiskey into the trash with a smirk. He was looking forward to Chase holding this over Foreman’s head all of tomorrow. Foreman was more fun when he was pissy-it was a nice change from smug.
Cuddy was waiting down in the parking garage by House’s car when he arrived. “So why are we meeting down here tonight? I was right by your office.”
“We’re fighting,” House said, taking her hand.
“Okay. What’d you do?”
“The usual,” House shrugged.
“That sounds about right. But why, exactly?”
They shared a quick kiss. “Chase was having a crisis.”
“Work related?” Cuddy asked with concern.
House tilted his head a little. “In that I have to work with him, and hate working with him when he’s in a mood, then yes. His PMS is worse than yours, you know.”
Cuddy rolled her eyes. She wanted to probe further, but House opened the door for her and rounded back to his side of the car. He was talking about dinner now but she was good at reading him, and something told her this thing with Chase went beyond that. When he got back into the car she had it figured out. She leaned over the cup holders and gave him a kiss.
“What was that for?”
“You’d be a good dad,” she mused.
He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a very large semitruck. It was enough to keep her laughing the entire way home.
Babysitting (House/Cuddy)
For alice_1005
Prompt; "There's absolutely nothing you could do to make me babysit."
400 words
(Written before tonight's episode aired.)
"Hi honeybunches,” House answered the phone before Cuddy even had a chance to open her mouth.
"House?"
"Mhm. Yes, of course I will, sweetiebuns,” he continued.
"The team's there, aren't they?"
"Why, Cuddlebunny, would you even have to ask?"
Cuddy rolled her eyes. “Let me know when they’re gone so we can have an actual conversation.”
“Yes, kisses to you too and-okay. They’re gone.”
“I hope that was fun for you.”
“Very. You should have seen Foreman’s face. I thought he was gonna vomit all over the table.”
“That makes two of us. I never want to hear any of those names ever again.”
“Shame, I was really thinking that ‘Cuddlebunny’ was the way to go.”
Cuddy ignored him and went on. “Listen, House, can you do me a favor today?”
“Does it involve taking my pants off?”
“I need you to watch Rachel for a few hours after work. I know you don’t have a case, and I have a meeting-“
“No.”
“House.”
“I don’t ask you to babysit Wilson for me,” he grouched.
“It’ll just be for a few hours. And you’re the one who said last week you wanted to get to know her.”
“With you. What am I supposed to do with your kid by myself?”
“House, she’s two. Set her up in front of the tv, give her a few toys, and she’ll be fine.”
“Where’s whats-her-face, Nanny McPhee?”
“Marina has the flu, and the back-up nanny is taking midterms. I need you.”
“There’s absolutely nothing you could do to make me babysit,” House declared with finality.
“Wanna bet?”
House was silent for a moment, giving Cuddy the space she needed to push forward triumphantly. “There may be nothing I can do, but there are plenty of things I can not do if we’re playing that game. I can not see you, I can not approve anything you do at work, I can not have sex with you, I can not…”
“Yeah, okay, I get it,” he interrupted.
“And anyway, you want this to be serious, and I want this to be serious. So be serious for me. Watch my kid watch TV and don’t kill her, please.”
“And in return…?” he pushed.
“You get to share in the delight of living my life.”
He snorted.
“It means a lot to me, House.”
“Yeah, yeah. Can I go now?” Despite his seeming nonchalance, Cuddy was attuned to the affection there.
“Sure. I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Or so you think. If I live through this,” House complained.
“Drama Queen.”
“Spoiled Bitch.”
“Rude Bastard.”
“…”
“Bye, House.”
“Bye, Cuddy.”
Cuddy hung up the phone with a smile.
The Chase Crisis (House & Chase, House/Cuddy)
For wawwhite
Prompt; some kind of father-figure fluff
1,000 words
(This one got a little out of hand, haha. And it's not all that fluffy, but I tried.)
“What do you want.”
Chase jumped. He didn’t realize House was still around. “Where’s Cuddy?” he asked in confusion. He cast a glance around the office as if Cuddy would pop up from under some piece of furniture and make his boss’s late night presence more acceptable.
House looked up from the book he was thumbing, giving Chase his usual why-do-I-ever-bother glare over the top of his reading glasses. “Where’s…” he gave Chase the once over, “any one of your recent harem?”
The two stared at each other for a second, then both went back to their own business without reply. Chase took a seat at the DDX table and House sipped out of his coffee mug, feet propped up on his desk.
Chase soon almost forgot that House was there, absorbed in the medical texts propped up around him, when he heard House loudly clearing his throat. He ignored it, but then House did it again. “What?” Chase shouted into the other room.
“What?” House echoed innocently, “guy can’t clear his throat?”
“Not you. Not without some kind of motive.” Chase narrowed his eyes at House. House pointedly cleared his throat again through the glass. Chase rolled his eyes but gave up and walked into the other room, hands in his pockets.
House pushed his coffee cup across his desk wordlessly.
“What’s this?” Chase asked.
House had already turned back to his book. “Arsenic.”
Chase reached tentatively for the mug. It was no secret House occasionally did take to drugging people, and while Chase couldn’t remember doing anything particularly poison-worthy recently, you never knew.
“It’s almost midnight and you’re here, in the office, alone, for the first time in a month and not out with one of your hooker-turned-girlfriends. We don’t have a case, I’m not pissed off at you beyond the norm so you have no reason to be doing medical research, and your skin is puffy around your eyes because you haven’t been sleeping. You were almost as grouchy as Foreman today though, so it’s not due to sex. Which means…”
He paused to look once more at Chase, who was clutching House’s mug dumbly halfway to his mouth. House nodded, and Chase took a sip. Immediately Chase scrunched up his face in dislike.
“Which means you’ve finally realized your new way of life is just as unsatisfying as they all say it is, and you’re seeking a deeper connection, but none of your recent Baby Mamas have married dead guys and frozen their sperm, so you gotta keep looking, and you don’t know how much more looking you can do. After all that hair will only get you so far.”
“That is not-“
House cleared his throat loudly and more obnoxiously than before. “And you need a drink. Shut up, sit down, and grab that card deck from over there.”
Chase, confused but intrigued, did so. House stole the deck from him and began to shuffle it. He paused to fish a small bottle of whiskey out of his desk, which he refilled Chase’s mug with before he plucked an empty coffee cup out of the trash by his desk for himself.
“Where’s Cuddy?” Chase asked again.
“We’re fighting,” House said simply, focused on the deck in his hands. He didn’t elaborate for Chase, just averted his eyes to the deck. After a moment he looked up. “Red or black?” He tapped the top card.
“Huh? Uh-red, I guess,” Chase said.
House flipped the card. Red eight.
“Lower or higher?” House asked.
“What is-?”
“Is the card I’m about to flip lower or higher than this eight?”
“Lower.”
House flipped a Queen of hearts, then shook his head at Chase. He pointed at the cards. “Take two drinks.”
Chase hesitated. House didn’t look like he was about to back down, so Chase gave in and drank. House passed the deck to him as soon as he set the mug back down. “Your turn.”
Chase caught on quickly, and the two went back and forth for a while, drinking and flipping cards in peace. At one point House caught Chase giving him a questioning look.
House shrugged by way of explanation: “Misery loves company.”
And that was enough for the two of them.
Eventually Chase was staring down into an empty mug, greeted by an empty whiskey bottle standing between them. House snatched the deck out of Chase’s palms and shoved it back into his desk drawer. “Chase,” he said, leaning forward and steepling his hands together so he could put his chin on them.
“Yeah?”
“GO HOME!” House yelled.
Chase rocked backwards in surprise, almost toppling over. House gave him a strangely candid grin, and Chase started to laugh. Before he knew it House was chuckling too, and Chase felt oddly victorious, although he couldn’t pin down exactly why. He collected his bag and his coat.
“And Chase?” House asked when Chase was halfway out the room. “Don’t tell Foreman about-“ he wiggled his finger back and forth between them as explanation. “He’s a jealous bastard.”
Chase nodded solemnly.
House watched him leave, then tipped his full cup of whiskey into the trash with a smirk. He was looking forward to Chase holding this over Foreman’s head all of tomorrow. Foreman was more fun when he was pissy-it was a nice change from smug.
Cuddy was waiting down in the parking garage by House’s car when he arrived. “So why are we meeting down here tonight? I was right by your office.”
“We’re fighting,” House said, taking her hand.
“Okay. What’d you do?”
“The usual,” House shrugged.
“That sounds about right. But why, exactly?”
They shared a quick kiss. “Chase was having a crisis.”
“Work related?” Cuddy asked with concern.
House tilted his head a little. “In that I have to work with him, and hate working with him when he’s in a mood, then yes. His PMS is worse than yours, you know.”
Cuddy rolled her eyes. She wanted to probe further, but House opened the door for her and rounded back to his side of the car. He was talking about dinner now but she was good at reading him, and something told her this thing with Chase went beyond that. When he got back into the car she had it figured out. She leaned over the cup holders and gave him a kiss.
“What was that for?”
“You’d be a good dad,” she mused.
He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a very large semitruck. It was enough to keep her laughing the entire way home.