((This is mainly for House and Wilson; however if your char might be out by the lake, feel free to stick them in! XD))There was precious little to do around the castle that didn't include a phallic symbol piece of wood or turning mice into teacups. That was the lesson Carla was quickly learning. Still, she had a bottle of suntan lotion, a stack
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But, at present, he'd decided it was such a nice that day that he had to drag Wilson out to a picnic table beside the lake for some good old-fashioned Squid Watching. Of course, he'd forced Wilson to carry the binoculars, the cork hat, the random junk food, and anything else House could think of. And, despite wanting to Squid Watch, House had just decided it would be a great idea to sprawl out on top of the picnic table and make Wilson keep watch for him.
Until he spied Carla setting up, of course. He'd only met her once, but he could be a jerk to people he'd only met once. He was that good.
"Wilson, throw something at the latina chick," House demanded. "I'd do it myself, but I'm a cripple."
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Okay, never using that title again, God, not even in his head.
He, of course, was picking at a one of the said bags of gummi bears and only half looking through the binoculars - squids? Really? He didn't see any, and House was a liar, dammit - when the guy spoke up and... God. Seriously. "I'm not throwing anything at her," Wilson automatically prompted, as though he were talking to the eight-year-old in the store who kept asking for a toy. "You do it if you want to so bad." Beat. "Not that I'm condoning you... throwing things at people
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Huffing an impatient sigh, House reached over Wilson and grabbed a few of the gummi bears. He had to twist his head to actually see Carla - lying down and throwing were two different activities, but House was going to combine them.
"Keep watching for the squid while I work," House reminded Wilson, as if the squid was ever going to show up. Squinting an eye, House promptly threw three gummi bears in Carla's direction, aiming for her back.
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"Oh, hell, no," she muttered, sitting up and pushing her sunglasses on top of her head as she scanned the area. Some hijo de tu puta madre was throwing things at her. It didn't take Carla long to spot House and Wilson; and as they were the only ones in gummi-catapult range, she stood up and stalked over to them, the offending candies still held in her hand.
"Hi," she said, smile so bright you could cut glass. Then she dropped the bears over House's head, eyebrows raised in a clear challenge. Sort of a non-verbal 'go ahead, make my day'.
Oh, this poonta was messing with the wrong woman.
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Damn, House wasn't perturbed by this anymore? That was another piece of blackmail material off the list. Wilson couldn't help sparing a bit of a frown in light of that new development.
"Him? The wife?" Wilson repeated nonetheless, grinning a bit in light of the accusation and shaking his head. "Oh, no. You... definitely wore the skirt in that relationship." Which was probably a dangerous topic to get into, because either House would get all pissed off and offended about the dig towards his masculinity, or... he'd make some kind of rude pun about who wore the skirt in this relationship - the leather miniskirt, even - and... No, scratch that, he'd definitely bring up the second part. Damn.
This woman was... kind of strange. Jumping from one emotion to the next and, damn, she was almost as bad as Julie. Except nobody could be that bad and... Not thinking about Julie right now, at all. He glanced to House again, almost questioningly, as if he would know why the hell she'd just gotten ( ... )
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He glanced over at Carla, raising an eyebrow at her sudden transition to laughing to cursing. The only explanation for wanting to kill Cox would be that she had some kind of feelings for him - which was just masochistic, and extremely stupid, in House's opinion.
"Is it really that surprising?" House wondered out loud, feigning sadness and offense. "I have charms, and... likable qualities." He couldn't help smirking a bit at that. Even he couldn't bullshit that much. "That cabeza de mierda decided it would be great to get drunk and hitched. The hitching idea came after the drinking, of course. Yes, I'm sorry," House turned to Carla, mockingly sympathetic, "Coxy-boy really is just a asqueroso chapero. You'll get over it ( ... )
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Yeah, it was just that obvious. Though why the cute and slightly dorky Jimmy would want to be with an angry, snarky diagnostician...
Oh, wait.
Poor Jimmy. Maybe they could start a club. Not that Carla wanted Cox. They were just friends. But still. The Survivors of Egotistical Doctors Club. Had a nice ring to it.
Although... "Hey, if you were married to Cox, do you know his ex-girlfriend? Red-hair, looks like she's twelve, wants to save the world one 'cuppa' at a time?" Carla's grin was one known the world over as the 'let's talk smack and gossip' smile. It wasn't that she disliked Lily. It was more of a vague amusement. Working with Lily should have been like working with an intern; except this broad decided that she didn't need a nurse. It was kind of infuriating. And weird to think that she had not only been with Cox, ( ... )
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"You have charms?" Wilson asked in a slightly outrageous voice, eyebrows jumping nearly to his hairline. "Really, now? Because you must keep those in your other pants. I've yet to see them."
Five months, in a week, he could have prompted back automatically, if House wasn't right there, and if Wilson definitely hadn't a paranoid sort of feeling that House was just going to back out the second he realized just how long they had actually been together. It wasn't exactly out of character for House ( ... )
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