FIC: "Terms of Engagement", Greg House/James Wilson, James Wilson/Allison Cameron, implied H/W/Ca
Title: Terms of Engagement
Authors: amazonqueenkate and hawkeyecat
Fandom: House, M.D.
Claimed Characters: Dr. Gregory House, Dr. James Wilson
Community: slash_me_twice
Characters and Pairings: House/Wilson, Wilson/Cameron, implied House/Wilson/Cameron
Prompt: 027. We
Word Count: 1,529
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If any of these events happen in canon, maybe we’ll have a chance at getting rights.
Authors' Notes: For housesvicodin, though this probably isn’t what she was expecting. I’ll give the prompt another go, and it should suit better. Thanks to sarcasticsra for the beta.
This had to be a first. Cameron, late to work. Without a phone call, at that.
Chase arched an eyebrow and further mouthed his pencil du jour. Foreman, always unaffected (except when brain parasites were involved), sipped his coffee. And Cameron, the pokey little duckling, said nothing.
She didn’t have to. The massive rock on her left ring finger spoke volumes. House had figured it was getting serious, but the fast track to becoming the fourth ex-Mrs. Wilson was less than expected.
“Somebody having fun with the quarter machine at the grocery store?” he asked once she’d slunk into her seat. “No wonder you’re late-they always put the really shiny ones at the top.”
Cameron, unfazed, just stared at him. “You realize you’re going to be asked to be best man at my wedding.” She sounded almost smug.
“I never knew you valued our friendship so much. Cuddy can’t wear white, though. I know you were waiting for the big night.”
At the end of the table, Foreman rolled his eyes. “Your game is off when Wilson’s involved.”
“Just for that, I won’t be coming to your wedding. Sorry, Chase.” The fact that none of them reacted indicated he needed fresh blood to torture.
“Do we have an actual patient, or are you going to be pissy all day because he didn’t tell you?” Cameron asked abruptly.
“I’m going to be pissy because you didn’t call. But if you really want a patient, the clinic is waiting. Don’t blind anyone with your shiny…thing.” He waved toward her hand.
“Diamond,” she corrected him serenely. It was probably going to be impossible to rile her for a while. At least, until she realized Wilson wasn’t Dr. Perfect. “And if you don’t need me, I’ll be in the clinic.” She rose from her seat.
“You should have it checked out. Wilson’s secret agent name is Double-Oh Stingy. And you know cubic zirconium is so in.”
This time, it was Chase who cut in. “You can’t even be remotely happy for your best friend?” he asked disbelievingly.
House mustered up his best “duh” face, just for him. “And miss out on these hours of amusement?” He turned back to Cameron. “I think I’ll start calling you Four. Now, off to the clinic.”
“Don’t confuse yourself,” she muttered as she left.
“From now on, he’ll be Fiveman. Just for you!” When the door closed, both Chase and Foreman were looking carefully at him. “Go earn your keep.”
After Chase and Foreman left-which happened after Foreman noted that, as slavery had ended, House had no right to change his name-House tapped a pen against the table, considering what it meant that Wilson hadn’t mentioned, “Oh, by the way, I’m asking your employee to marry me.” One way to find out.
House pushed himself up from the table and went oncologist hunting.
As luck would (not) have it, Wilson wasn’t in his office. (And his secretary just did not appreciate the Bugs Bunny reference.) All bald-headed rugrats were Wilson-free. The cafeteria had chips but no dip, and even the balcony, while a great place to take the first step towards a lucrative future as an asphalt pancake, lacked a certain soon-to-be-re-wed doctor.
It was actually sheer chance that House cornered Wilson in the fourth-floor men’s room. He took full advantage of it, though, flipping the lock shut and leaning back against the door.
“Do the rocks get progressively bigger with each potential alimony payment?”
Wilson didn’t even look fazed by his technique and instead planted his hands on his hips. “Got a great deal at the jeweler’s-buy three, get one free.” He considered the question a beat longer. “Do you get more irritating with each potential alimony payment?”
“Nope. Do that all on my own. The fact that you happen to be on the fourth future failure is just a bonus.” He also happened to have more of a problem with this one.
“You had a date with her. What’s the old saying: you snooze, you lose?”
Wilson thought…oh. “Yeah, it’s got nothing to do with you not telling me. I wanted her all along. You caught me.”
“Oh, I have to ask your permission marry someone?” Wilson looked almost amused. “I should have known there was an Electra in here somewhere.”
“Only when the fiancée in question has to get me to approve vacation time.” House would do it, too.
Wilson rolled his eyes. “Our first wedding gift is pettiness? Allison will be so pleased.”
“She’d expect nothing more,” House returned. Especially since he wanted the groom for himself. She was lucky he wasn’t kidnapping Wilson and tying him to his bed. “Did you bother to tell her the other three ended with infidelity?”
“Yes. And unlike some people, she’s learned forgiveness.” From the looks of it, Wilson wanted to leave. It was going to be hard to get past House, not to mention the locked door.
“You’re eleven years older,” he pointed out.
“What is this, Petty Reasons Not to Get Married 101? Is Professor House pissed I’m fucking the hot TA?”
Actually, yes, but not for the reason Wilson thought. “It’s going to be difficult to flirt with your wife working down the hall.” House knew perfectly well his reasoning was weak, but he couldn’t exactly give his actual objection.
“Yes, you’re right. All those times my other wives complained about never seeing me are made worse by sharing a workplace.”
“The fact that you have to pluralize ‘other wife’ indicates an issue with you and marriage. You should probably stop trying it.”
“While the fact that you have to lock me in the bathroom to talk me out of it only hints at your issue.” He shook his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, some of us have actual work to do.”
“She’s in the clinic if you want a quickie,” House offered oh-so-helpfully.
“Surprised you’re not offering to become a third.” Wilson approached; House didn’t budge. “What is your problem?”
Moment of truth. House grabbed Wilson by the shoulders and kissed him, hard and fast. “That’s my problem.” Then he unlocked the door and left.
House wasn’t surprised when the almost-closed elevator doors jerked open and Wilson barged on. “You do that now?”
House hit the door close button. “You asked now.”
“Yes, now. As in this current point in time, twelve hours after I got engaged. Or did you think all that time I spent single was an act?”
Wilson wasn’t supposed to be able to catch him off-guard. “You didn’t say anything,” he accused-which was inane, because neither had he. Then again, he wasn’t the one working on his fourth marriage.
“And here I thought you were the one who didn’t care what he said or did.” This was going to take a while. House stopped the elevator just before it hit the first floor.
“So I was supposed to say-when you weren’t busy being the hospital’s biggest slut-that by the way, you shouldn’t be with women anymore.” House rolled his eyes at the idea.
“Considering I’ve been expecting something since, oh, the Monster Truck Rally That Never Was? Yes.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Yeah, because taking Cameron instead of you was a clear indication that I wanted you.”
“No, but your ex informing me, quote, ‘Greg’s always wanted you,’ gave me this strange…vibe.” Wilson looked almost smug. “Or did you forget you told her?”
“Didn’t think she’d tell you,” House muttered. He shot Wilson an accusing glare. “So you’ve known for more than a year and a half, and don’t bring it up until twelve hours after you proposed to Cameron? Even for you, that’s fast cheating.”
Wilson blinked. “You think I’m going to cheat on her with you?” He sounded honestly impressed, but more in the “you’re an ass” way than the “you’re amazing” way.
“Technically, you already did,” House pointed out. “The kiss.”
“You kissed me. I was victimized by a desperate man.” He smirked. “Allison’ll expect no less from you.”
“She’d believe you kissed back.” House was not above informing Cameron that her would-be husband liked men.
“And that you’re a deranged madman.”
“She works for me. She knows that part.”
“Yes, but the part where you tried to seduce her fiancé is new.”
“So is the part where her fiancé is interested.” Wilson had all but said that.
“And you think she isn’t?” Wilson’s eyebrows were raised.
What was going on? House didn’t like being unsure. “You’re both interested,” he said slowly, “and you’re getting married.” Sure, he was attracted to her. She was a gorgeous woman. “Which means what, as far as where I fit in?”
Wilson grinned. No, leered. House would have been prouder if he hadn’t been so off his game. “Well, there are a number of possibilities,” he said just as slowly. “I can draw a few diagrams if you’d like…”
It wasn’t typical, even for one of Wilson’s weddings, for the best man to accompany the happy couple on their honeymoon. Then again, no one would make the mistake of accusing House-or Wilson, for that matter-of being typical.
Authors: amazonqueenkate and hawkeyecat
Fandom: House, M.D.
Claimed Characters: Dr. Gregory House, Dr. James Wilson
Community: slash_me_twice
Characters and Pairings: House/Wilson, Wilson/Cameron, implied House/Wilson/Cameron
Prompt: 027. We
Word Count: 1,529
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If any of these events happen in canon, maybe we’ll have a chance at getting rights.
Authors' Notes: For housesvicodin, though this probably isn’t what she was expecting. I’ll give the prompt another go, and it should suit better. Thanks to sarcasticsra for the beta.
This had to be a first. Cameron, late to work. Without a phone call, at that.
Chase arched an eyebrow and further mouthed his pencil du jour. Foreman, always unaffected (except when brain parasites were involved), sipped his coffee. And Cameron, the pokey little duckling, said nothing.
She didn’t have to. The massive rock on her left ring finger spoke volumes. House had figured it was getting serious, but the fast track to becoming the fourth ex-Mrs. Wilson was less than expected.
“Somebody having fun with the quarter machine at the grocery store?” he asked once she’d slunk into her seat. “No wonder you’re late-they always put the really shiny ones at the top.”
Cameron, unfazed, just stared at him. “You realize you’re going to be asked to be best man at my wedding.” She sounded almost smug.
“I never knew you valued our friendship so much. Cuddy can’t wear white, though. I know you were waiting for the big night.”
At the end of the table, Foreman rolled his eyes. “Your game is off when Wilson’s involved.”
“Just for that, I won’t be coming to your wedding. Sorry, Chase.” The fact that none of them reacted indicated he needed fresh blood to torture.
“Do we have an actual patient, or are you going to be pissy all day because he didn’t tell you?” Cameron asked abruptly.
“I’m going to be pissy because you didn’t call. But if you really want a patient, the clinic is waiting. Don’t blind anyone with your shiny…thing.” He waved toward her hand.
“Diamond,” she corrected him serenely. It was probably going to be impossible to rile her for a while. At least, until she realized Wilson wasn’t Dr. Perfect. “And if you don’t need me, I’ll be in the clinic.” She rose from her seat.
“You should have it checked out. Wilson’s secret agent name is Double-Oh Stingy. And you know cubic zirconium is so in.”
This time, it was Chase who cut in. “You can’t even be remotely happy for your best friend?” he asked disbelievingly.
House mustered up his best “duh” face, just for him. “And miss out on these hours of amusement?” He turned back to Cameron. “I think I’ll start calling you Four. Now, off to the clinic.”
“Don’t confuse yourself,” she muttered as she left.
“From now on, he’ll be Fiveman. Just for you!” When the door closed, both Chase and Foreman were looking carefully at him. “Go earn your keep.”
After Chase and Foreman left-which happened after Foreman noted that, as slavery had ended, House had no right to change his name-House tapped a pen against the table, considering what it meant that Wilson hadn’t mentioned, “Oh, by the way, I’m asking your employee to marry me.” One way to find out.
House pushed himself up from the table and went oncologist hunting.
As luck would (not) have it, Wilson wasn’t in his office. (And his secretary just did not appreciate the Bugs Bunny reference.) All bald-headed rugrats were Wilson-free. The cafeteria had chips but no dip, and even the balcony, while a great place to take the first step towards a lucrative future as an asphalt pancake, lacked a certain soon-to-be-re-wed doctor.
It was actually sheer chance that House cornered Wilson in the fourth-floor men’s room. He took full advantage of it, though, flipping the lock shut and leaning back against the door.
“Do the rocks get progressively bigger with each potential alimony payment?”
Wilson didn’t even look fazed by his technique and instead planted his hands on his hips. “Got a great deal at the jeweler’s-buy three, get one free.” He considered the question a beat longer. “Do you get more irritating with each potential alimony payment?”
“Nope. Do that all on my own. The fact that you happen to be on the fourth future failure is just a bonus.” He also happened to have more of a problem with this one.
“You had a date with her. What’s the old saying: you snooze, you lose?”
Wilson thought…oh. “Yeah, it’s got nothing to do with you not telling me. I wanted her all along. You caught me.”
“Oh, I have to ask your permission marry someone?” Wilson looked almost amused. “I should have known there was an Electra in here somewhere.”
“Only when the fiancée in question has to get me to approve vacation time.” House would do it, too.
Wilson rolled his eyes. “Our first wedding gift is pettiness? Allison will be so pleased.”
“She’d expect nothing more,” House returned. Especially since he wanted the groom for himself. She was lucky he wasn’t kidnapping Wilson and tying him to his bed. “Did you bother to tell her the other three ended with infidelity?”
“Yes. And unlike some people, she’s learned forgiveness.” From the looks of it, Wilson wanted to leave. It was going to be hard to get past House, not to mention the locked door.
“You’re eleven years older,” he pointed out.
“What is this, Petty Reasons Not to Get Married 101? Is Professor House pissed I’m fucking the hot TA?”
Actually, yes, but not for the reason Wilson thought. “It’s going to be difficult to flirt with your wife working down the hall.” House knew perfectly well his reasoning was weak, but he couldn’t exactly give his actual objection.
“Yes, you’re right. All those times my other wives complained about never seeing me are made worse by sharing a workplace.”
“The fact that you have to pluralize ‘other wife’ indicates an issue with you and marriage. You should probably stop trying it.”
“While the fact that you have to lock me in the bathroom to talk me out of it only hints at your issue.” He shook his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, some of us have actual work to do.”
“She’s in the clinic if you want a quickie,” House offered oh-so-helpfully.
“Surprised you’re not offering to become a third.” Wilson approached; House didn’t budge. “What is your problem?”
Moment of truth. House grabbed Wilson by the shoulders and kissed him, hard and fast. “That’s my problem.” Then he unlocked the door and left.
House wasn’t surprised when the almost-closed elevator doors jerked open and Wilson barged on. “You do that now?”
House hit the door close button. “You asked now.”
“Yes, now. As in this current point in time, twelve hours after I got engaged. Or did you think all that time I spent single was an act?”
Wilson wasn’t supposed to be able to catch him off-guard. “You didn’t say anything,” he accused-which was inane, because neither had he. Then again, he wasn’t the one working on his fourth marriage.
“And here I thought you were the one who didn’t care what he said or did.” This was going to take a while. House stopped the elevator just before it hit the first floor.
“So I was supposed to say-when you weren’t busy being the hospital’s biggest slut-that by the way, you shouldn’t be with women anymore.” House rolled his eyes at the idea.
“Considering I’ve been expecting something since, oh, the Monster Truck Rally That Never Was? Yes.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Yeah, because taking Cameron instead of you was a clear indication that I wanted you.”
“No, but your ex informing me, quote, ‘Greg’s always wanted you,’ gave me this strange…vibe.” Wilson looked almost smug. “Or did you forget you told her?”
“Didn’t think she’d tell you,” House muttered. He shot Wilson an accusing glare. “So you’ve known for more than a year and a half, and don’t bring it up until twelve hours after you proposed to Cameron? Even for you, that’s fast cheating.”
Wilson blinked. “You think I’m going to cheat on her with you?” He sounded honestly impressed, but more in the “you’re an ass” way than the “you’re amazing” way.
“Technically, you already did,” House pointed out. “The kiss.”
“You kissed me. I was victimized by a desperate man.” He smirked. “Allison’ll expect no less from you.”
“She’d believe you kissed back.” House was not above informing Cameron that her would-be husband liked men.
“And that you’re a deranged madman.”
“She works for me. She knows that part.”
“Yes, but the part where you tried to seduce her fiancé is new.”
“So is the part where her fiancé is interested.” Wilson had all but said that.
“And you think she isn’t?” Wilson’s eyebrows were raised.
What was going on? House didn’t like being unsure. “You’re both interested,” he said slowly, “and you’re getting married.” Sure, he was attracted to her. She was a gorgeous woman. “Which means what, as far as where I fit in?”
Wilson grinned. No, leered. House would have been prouder if he hadn’t been so off his game. “Well, there are a number of possibilities,” he said just as slowly. “I can draw a few diagrams if you’d like…”
It wasn’t typical, even for one of Wilson’s weddings, for the best man to accompany the happy couple on their honeymoon. Then again, no one would make the mistake of accusing House-or Wilson, for that matter-of being typical.