all creatures great and small
For queenzulu, who wanted House/Foreman doing something ridiculously domestic. I take all challenges seriously.
"What are you doing?"
"I thought I was changing the baby, but apparently I'm doing something else that leads to you asking stupid questions instead." House looked up to glare at Foreman at the exact wrong moment, which meant that he was completely unable to dodge the stream of urine and it hit him right in the solar plexus. It spread, creating a dark, wet stain that got all over Sid Vicious, who probably would have been unhappy about the whole thing if he'd known.
"No, no, see, that's vintage." he argued, trying to ignore Foreman's laughter. "We don't piss on vintage..."
The baby on the table ignored this lecture completely, gurgled, and waved his limbs in the air.
"Let me do this." Foreman chuckled and waved House aside, away from the changing table. "And you'll want to soak that."
House sighed theatrically and stripped off his t-shirt, leaving the room momentarily to toss it in the bathroom sink in a half-assed concession to cleanliness.
"Oh sure, you're going to do the easy part now that he won't piss on your precious Armani tie." he shouted from across the hall.
"There is no easy part. Need I remind you of the rotavirus-based shit explosion incident?"
"Shutting up now."
Foreman smirked, deftly fastened the straps of the disposable diaper, and had the baby's sleepsuit half snapped up by the time House returned.
"How the hell do you do that?"
"Talent. And many, many cousins. Here, take him - I'll get his bottle."
House breathed in deeply as he took the baby from Foreman and settled the infant into the crook of his arm. "Mm. You smell like baby powder."
Foreman grinned at him, arching one eyebrow.
"Just ... pointing it out."
"Sure."
"What are you doing?"
"I thought I was changing the baby, but apparently I'm doing something else that leads to you asking stupid questions instead." House looked up to glare at Foreman at the exact wrong moment, which meant that he was completely unable to dodge the stream of urine and it hit him right in the solar plexus. It spread, creating a dark, wet stain that got all over Sid Vicious, who probably would have been unhappy about the whole thing if he'd known.
"No, no, see, that's vintage." he argued, trying to ignore Foreman's laughter. "We don't piss on vintage..."
The baby on the table ignored this lecture completely, gurgled, and waved his limbs in the air.
"Let me do this." Foreman chuckled and waved House aside, away from the changing table. "And you'll want to soak that."
House sighed theatrically and stripped off his t-shirt, leaving the room momentarily to toss it in the bathroom sink in a half-assed concession to cleanliness.
"Oh sure, you're going to do the easy part now that he won't piss on your precious Armani tie." he shouted from across the hall.
"There is no easy part. Need I remind you of the rotavirus-based shit explosion incident?"
"Shutting up now."
Foreman smirked, deftly fastened the straps of the disposable diaper, and had the baby's sleepsuit half snapped up by the time House returned.
"How the hell do you do that?"
"Talent. And many, many cousins. Here, take him - I'll get his bottle."
House breathed in deeply as he took the baby from Foreman and settled the infant into the crook of his arm. "Mm. You smell like baby powder."
Foreman grinned at him, arching one eyebrow.
"Just ... pointing it out."
"Sure."