The Wizard of PROZ: Prologue
Title: The Wizard of Proz (the wizard of PROZ @ FF.net)
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Kutner/Thirteen, House/Wilson, Wilson/Amber
Genre: Parody/Adventure
Warnings: Language, sexual references, spoilers up to Living The Dream, but disregarding the finale (House's Head/Wilson's Heart)
Summary: An accident causes Thirteen to sustain a nasty concussion, and a second impact leaves her totally unconscious. While unconscious she's taken to a strange world called Princeton-South-of-Oz, where she's given the Ruby Thong, and a mission; get it to House! But will the Wicked Witches stop her?
There's no place like home...
The image of Dorothy and her family faded to black, and the credits for The Wizard of Oz started up. Thirteen stretched out the kinks in her back, internally lecturing herself for sitting still for so long. Kutner picked up his cereal bowl (which was filled with congealing milk by this point) and took it to his kitchen.
"You want anything while I'm in here, Thirteen?" He was already grabbing for something in the fridge, a couple of beers, Thirteen saw when she looked over, so she didn't even bother responding.
Kutner walked back into the main room and handed her a brown bottle. She typically loathed beer, but when she was with Kutner she would drink a bottle. There was a sharp crack as the bottle opened and she took a swallow.
"So I haven't seen that movie since I was in like...high school," Kutner said, pointing his beer bottle at the sepia-toned credits as they rolled.
"Me neither," Thirteen said, taking another swig of beer. "I remember watching it a lot as a kid, but not recently." Truthfully, she had watched it with her mother every year around Christmas, and since her mother died she had abandoned the tradition.
She mentally shook her head, not wanting to focus on those thoughts. Luckily, Kutner wasn't looking at her just then, so he didn't take notice if there was any sort of visible sign of what she had previously been thinking about.
The two sipped at their beers, and somewhere along the line somebody turned the television off. Thirteen didn't notice that the light was dimmer until she noticed that Kutner had inched a bit closer to her on the couch. She looked at him, an eyebrow raised, and asked, "What are you doing, Kutner?"
"Nothing. What makes you think I'm doing anything?" Kutner responded distractedly, taking a last long swallow from his beer, though it only facilitated the awkward silence. He drummed his fingers against the empty bottle, producing a hollow noise.
The silence stretched on. "We have an elephant in the room and its name is silence," Kutner mumbled, smiling a little at his own joke.
Thirteen grinned a little, despite not finding the joke very funny. "I can think of a few reasons why I might think you're doing something." She inched her hand over, just enough so that it was touching the side of his leg. "You weren't this close a few minutes ago; of course you're doing something."
Kutner glanced at her hand, and then glanced back up at her, then down at the hand again. "Ah, but Thirteen, how do I know you're not the one doing something?" Despite his words, he still scooted a bit closer. "Sure looks like something to me."
"Well you look to be doing a little bit more of something than I am." Her fingers ran up the side of his jeans, but then fell back onto the couch.
Kutner tried to feign some shame, but failed. "I think you're imagining this 'something' you seem convinced I'm doing," he said. "Because the only person here doing something is definitely you." Her hand moved away from his leg as he said this. "I'm definitely not doing anything." He moved just a little closer as if to emphasize his statement.
A small chuckle escaped Thirteen's lips, as she couldn't help but find how childish the two of them were being a bit funny. The majority of their interactions were like this, but she always found them especially humorous when the meaning behind them was anything but innocent.
"You know," she said casually. "If you get any closer, you'll be on top of me."
He looked positively mischievous at that. "Was that an invitation?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Because that can definitely be arranged. Or I could back up." He held up his hands in some kind of mock surrender. "It's totally up to you.”
With one swift, well placed swing of her leg, and a twist of her hips, Thirteen was planted firmly in Kutner's lap. "There was no mention of an invitation," she replied, smirking slightly. "But I also definitely did not tell you to go anywhere."
Their hips were aligned, their chests were nearly touching, their faces were inches from each other, and the air between them was hot from their breaths. Thirteen couldn't help but think of how fun this all was. "Fun" was not normally a word she would use to describe sexual acts, but that is exactly what most anything with Kutner was.
Kutner was continuing to move closer to her, only this time, it was his face, as his body was already nearly as close to hers as it could get.
The first kiss was always a bit more guarded, a bit more careful. But then there was electricity, always. Kutner could say with one-hundred percent honesty that sex with Thirteen was never, ever boring. He broke off after a minute or two. "We should move," he said quietly.
"Where to?" Thirteen asked, looking slightly irked that they had stopped, but there was a splashing of pink across her cheeks that Kutner found oddly endearing.
"Bedroom?" Kutner suggested. They'd had sex on the couch before (and in the kitchen... and the bathroom... on the floor, even), but he was in the mood for a bed at the moment, as it was far more comfortable than any of those other places.
Thirteen seemed to be feeling the same way, as she got up, causing Kutner to make a slightly disappointed noise at the loss of weight in his lap. He also got off the couch, and the two made their way to his bedroom. Thirteen's pace was casual, almost a stroll, which might have irked Kutner had it been anyone other than her.
Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at him in a way that made his insides turn into chewing gum. He caught up with her and grabbed her by the wrist, smirking a little; he kissed her in the doorway of his bedroom.
She grabbed him by the shirt with her free hand and pulled him in, and they were stuck like that for a few moments. Kutner let go of her arm and let his hands find more entertaining places to rest.
Thirteen broke away this time, smiling coyly. "I thought we were going for the bedroom; remember what happened last time we did this standing up?"
Kutner laughed at the memory. "Oh yeah, I don't think I'll ever forget that." He kissed her again, briefly, before making his way over to the bed. She followed, pushing him gently back when she was standing in front of him.
"I like to imagine you don't forget any other time, either." Thirteen grinned at him in a smug sort of way, and he just nodded, not really able to quite find his voice at that particular moment. His hands trailed down her sides, tickling slightly, and going up under her shirt on their way back up.
Thirteen kissed him again and he pulled her backwards onto the bed with him, but there was a little too much force in the motion and there was a resounding crack as, while he was lying flat on his back, Thirteen's skull became more acquainted with one of his bedposts.
"Shit, are you okay?" Kutner exclaimed, jolting up and holding her out at an arms length.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She held the back of her head for a second and blinked popping lights out of her eyes. "I'm really fine," she said, noticing his look of disbelief. She shifted out of his lap and kissed him, pushing him back down onto the bed and moving so she was on top of him.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked quietly as their lips were barely two centimetres apart and his hands were already back up her shirt.
She kissed his neck, stopping only to mutter a brief, "Yes," before continuing her ministrations.
Normally, Kutner might have been a bit more reluctant to believe her, but she was kissing him and touching him and doing all sorts of things that drove all worry from his mind. All thoughts of possible concussions were driven to the back of his mind, and saved for another time, as her lips once again met his.
---
The next morning was a little rushed (Thirteen was rather reluctant to wake up) and they were rather sneaky about entering the conference room.
"Don't worry, he's not here yet, you're fine," Taub said, looking over. "But this is later than normal," he added eying them suspiciously.
They ignored the comment and took their seats, but after a couple of minutes and no sign of their boss, Thirteen got up to fix herself a cup of coffee.
She saw that the coffee machine was already filled with freshly brewed coffee, so she opened one of the cupboards to get out a clean cup. As she was reaching out to open the cupboard, she suddenly found that her head was spinning, and before she could regain her balance, her foot slipped on a small, round object. Kutner and Taub looked on in confusion and horror as she suddenly crumpled to the floor, hitting her head on the counter top's edge on the way down.
Kutner jumped up from his seat and rushed over to her. "Thirteen? Are you alright?" He received no response from her, and worriedly glanced up at Taub, who was by now also kneeling next to Thirteen. "She's out cold."
Taub grabbed a penlight and began examining her. Her pupils appeared normal, but when he began to check her head and neck over, he found some bruising and a large lump on the back of her head, in addition to the small bruise she got when she hit her head on the counter."Did she hit her head recently? The bruising here is obviously from the counter, but this is from something else." He pointed out the injuries to Kutner.
Before Kutner could reply, House chose that moment to stroll into the conference room, happily munching on a donut. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the scene on the floor, and said, "You guys should have told me we were playing Kill My Coworker, I'm the world champion, you know."
Taub looked from House and back to Kutner. "You never answered my question," he pointed out to Kutner impatiently. "Has she hit her head recently?"
The guilty look said it all, but before he could formulate an answer, Foreman strolled into the conference room with his newspaper (which he had inconspicuously left the room to fetch before Kutner and Thirteen had arrived) folded under his arm, enjoying his own (chocolate!) donut with a cup of coffee. He frowned at the scene before him. "...What happened here?"
"I was wondering the same thing," House said conversationally.
Taub, who was in the process of paging one of the nurses, titled his head toward Kutner. "Ask him, I'm not entirely sure what is going on either."
Kutner sighed, a miserable sort of sigh that oozed of his guilt over whatever it was he wasn't telling the rest of them. "She's concussed. She hit her head last night while she was over at my apartment, and I guess hitting her head again wasn't the best thing for her right now."
House groaned. "She hit her head and you didn't do anything about it? Ever heard of Second Impact Syndrome?"
"I thought she was fine, honest!"
"You thought she was fine? You didn't bother to check?" Foreman pressed, sitting down and opening his newspaper.
Kutner faltered a little. "I asked if she was okay!" he said indignantly. "I told her we should check it out, but she said she was fine."
House was looking at the floor, and bent down and picked up a small red object that had rolled over towards him. "I've been looking for this!" he said contentedly, tossing it up in the air and catching it again.
A silence passed through the room. "What?" House asked, glancing around at everyone. He then looked at the ball in his hands, and then down at Thirteen, who was still passed out on the floor. "Well, shit," he said.
"She tripped because you left your stupid toys lying around!" Kutner said, sounding far more peeved and defensive than he had meant to.
House rolled his eyes. "Please, if you had bothered to get her checked over properly, she wouldn't even be here, she'd be resting. Don't blame this on me."
"Blame what on you?" Somehow, Wilson had entered the room entirely unnoticed by the other occupants, even House. When he too took notice of the scene before him he sighed in annoyance. "Beating up fellows again, House? I thought we've been through this, the insurance doesn't cover that."
"I didn't beat up on anybody," House said. He pointed his cane at Kutner. "He did that to her," he added, moving his cane between Kutner and the unconscious Thirteen. "She got a concussion last night and instead of getting it checked out, they had nerdy sex all night long and then she just happened to trip this morning and is now...well, you have eyes."
Taub and Foreman looked at Kutner, both with very similar accusatory looks in their eyes. "You didn't actually...?" Taub started, looking from Foreman, to Kutner and to Thirteen.
Wilson rubbed his temples. "House. I've told you a million times not to leave your things lying around, because something like this was just waiting to happen. And now it has and what are we going to do?"
"Well we don't have a case, we could sit around and wait for her to wake up," House suggested.
Wilson shook his head. "You are unbelievable. She can't just lay on the floor, you know."
"She's not going to," Taub chimed in. "One of the nurses is on her way with a gurney, and there's a room ready for her. She can rest in there until she wakes up."
House shrugged. "See, Wilson? All taken care of." He threw his ball at the other man, bouncing it off his chest and back into his hand. "This thing is harmless, really, this is pretty much all Kutner's fault."
"It is not, I honestly thought she was alright!"
Before any further argument could occur, the nurse Taub had paged showed up, and Taub and Kutner gently hoisted Thirteen up onto the gurney, extra careful not to inflict anymore injuries of any kind to her bruised head.
"Don't follow the gurney, young man," House said in a mock-maternal voice, stopping Kutner from exiting the room with his cane.
"Why not?" he asked, looking irritated. "The blame game isn't actually fun, if you can believe it. And besides, if your ball hadn't been lying on the floor, she wouldn't have hit her head again."
"It's still your fault she hit her head in the first place," House reminded him calmly.
"I never said I was the reason she hit her head. I could have a low-hanging light fixture for all you guys know," Kutner retorted, hoping he had won the argument at last.
"It was at your apartment, you're at fault. Besides, I seriously doubt it had anything to do with low-hanging lights or you would've said earlier. Which indicates your not letting us in on the details of this injury, further proving my favorite phrase, "everybody lies", so, really now, what did happen last night when you two were so innocently spending time together?" House inquired, taking a seat.
Kutner blushed slightly and mumbled something incoherent. House found that as proof enough of his suspicions, and didn't really push the matter any further.
"Well, now that that is all settled, let us wait for Thirteen to wake up." He paused for a moment before grinning to himself. "You do all realise how many 'Unlucky Thirteen' jokes we are going to be able to make after this, right?"
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Kutner/Thirteen, House/Wilson, Wilson/Amber
Genre: Parody/Adventure
Warnings: Language, sexual references, spoilers up to Living The Dream, but disregarding the finale (House's Head/Wilson's Heart)
Summary: An accident causes Thirteen to sustain a nasty concussion, and a second impact leaves her totally unconscious. While unconscious she's taken to a strange world called Princeton-South-of-Oz, where she's given the Ruby Thong, and a mission; get it to House! But will the Wicked Witches stop her?
There's no place like home...
The image of Dorothy and her family faded to black, and the credits for The Wizard of Oz started up. Thirteen stretched out the kinks in her back, internally lecturing herself for sitting still for so long. Kutner picked up his cereal bowl (which was filled with congealing milk by this point) and took it to his kitchen.
"You want anything while I'm in here, Thirteen?" He was already grabbing for something in the fridge, a couple of beers, Thirteen saw when she looked over, so she didn't even bother responding.
Kutner walked back into the main room and handed her a brown bottle. She typically loathed beer, but when she was with Kutner she would drink a bottle. There was a sharp crack as the bottle opened and she took a swallow.
"So I haven't seen that movie since I was in like...high school," Kutner said, pointing his beer bottle at the sepia-toned credits as they rolled.
"Me neither," Thirteen said, taking another swig of beer. "I remember watching it a lot as a kid, but not recently." Truthfully, she had watched it with her mother every year around Christmas, and since her mother died she had abandoned the tradition.
She mentally shook her head, not wanting to focus on those thoughts. Luckily, Kutner wasn't looking at her just then, so he didn't take notice if there was any sort of visible sign of what she had previously been thinking about.
The two sipped at their beers, and somewhere along the line somebody turned the television off. Thirteen didn't notice that the light was dimmer until she noticed that Kutner had inched a bit closer to her on the couch. She looked at him, an eyebrow raised, and asked, "What are you doing, Kutner?"
"Nothing. What makes you think I'm doing anything?" Kutner responded distractedly, taking a last long swallow from his beer, though it only facilitated the awkward silence. He drummed his fingers against the empty bottle, producing a hollow noise.
The silence stretched on. "We have an elephant in the room and its name is silence," Kutner mumbled, smiling a little at his own joke.
Thirteen grinned a little, despite not finding the joke very funny. "I can think of a few reasons why I might think you're doing something." She inched her hand over, just enough so that it was touching the side of his leg. "You weren't this close a few minutes ago; of course you're doing something."
Kutner glanced at her hand, and then glanced back up at her, then down at the hand again. "Ah, but Thirteen, how do I know you're not the one doing something?" Despite his words, he still scooted a bit closer. "Sure looks like something to me."
"Well you look to be doing a little bit more of something than I am." Her fingers ran up the side of his jeans, but then fell back onto the couch.
Kutner tried to feign some shame, but failed. "I think you're imagining this 'something' you seem convinced I'm doing," he said. "Because the only person here doing something is definitely you." Her hand moved away from his leg as he said this. "I'm definitely not doing anything." He moved just a little closer as if to emphasize his statement.
A small chuckle escaped Thirteen's lips, as she couldn't help but find how childish the two of them were being a bit funny. The majority of their interactions were like this, but she always found them especially humorous when the meaning behind them was anything but innocent.
"You know," she said casually. "If you get any closer, you'll be on top of me."
He looked positively mischievous at that. "Was that an invitation?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Because that can definitely be arranged. Or I could back up." He held up his hands in some kind of mock surrender. "It's totally up to you.”
With one swift, well placed swing of her leg, and a twist of her hips, Thirteen was planted firmly in Kutner's lap. "There was no mention of an invitation," she replied, smirking slightly. "But I also definitely did not tell you to go anywhere."
Their hips were aligned, their chests were nearly touching, their faces were inches from each other, and the air between them was hot from their breaths. Thirteen couldn't help but think of how fun this all was. "Fun" was not normally a word she would use to describe sexual acts, but that is exactly what most anything with Kutner was.
Kutner was continuing to move closer to her, only this time, it was his face, as his body was already nearly as close to hers as it could get.
The first kiss was always a bit more guarded, a bit more careful. But then there was electricity, always. Kutner could say with one-hundred percent honesty that sex with Thirteen was never, ever boring. He broke off after a minute or two. "We should move," he said quietly.
"Where to?" Thirteen asked, looking slightly irked that they had stopped, but there was a splashing of pink across her cheeks that Kutner found oddly endearing.
"Bedroom?" Kutner suggested. They'd had sex on the couch before (and in the kitchen... and the bathroom... on the floor, even), but he was in the mood for a bed at the moment, as it was far more comfortable than any of those other places.
Thirteen seemed to be feeling the same way, as she got up, causing Kutner to make a slightly disappointed noise at the loss of weight in his lap. He also got off the couch, and the two made their way to his bedroom. Thirteen's pace was casual, almost a stroll, which might have irked Kutner had it been anyone other than her.
Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at him in a way that made his insides turn into chewing gum. He caught up with her and grabbed her by the wrist, smirking a little; he kissed her in the doorway of his bedroom.
She grabbed him by the shirt with her free hand and pulled him in, and they were stuck like that for a few moments. Kutner let go of her arm and let his hands find more entertaining places to rest.
Thirteen broke away this time, smiling coyly. "I thought we were going for the bedroom; remember what happened last time we did this standing up?"
Kutner laughed at the memory. "Oh yeah, I don't think I'll ever forget that." He kissed her again, briefly, before making his way over to the bed. She followed, pushing him gently back when she was standing in front of him.
"I like to imagine you don't forget any other time, either." Thirteen grinned at him in a smug sort of way, and he just nodded, not really able to quite find his voice at that particular moment. His hands trailed down her sides, tickling slightly, and going up under her shirt on their way back up.
Thirteen kissed him again and he pulled her backwards onto the bed with him, but there was a little too much force in the motion and there was a resounding crack as, while he was lying flat on his back, Thirteen's skull became more acquainted with one of his bedposts.
"Shit, are you okay?" Kutner exclaimed, jolting up and holding her out at an arms length.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She held the back of her head for a second and blinked popping lights out of her eyes. "I'm really fine," she said, noticing his look of disbelief. She shifted out of his lap and kissed him, pushing him back down onto the bed and moving so she was on top of him.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked quietly as their lips were barely two centimetres apart and his hands were already back up her shirt.
She kissed his neck, stopping only to mutter a brief, "Yes," before continuing her ministrations.
Normally, Kutner might have been a bit more reluctant to believe her, but she was kissing him and touching him and doing all sorts of things that drove all worry from his mind. All thoughts of possible concussions were driven to the back of his mind, and saved for another time, as her lips once again met his.
---
The next morning was a little rushed (Thirteen was rather reluctant to wake up) and they were rather sneaky about entering the conference room.
"Don't worry, he's not here yet, you're fine," Taub said, looking over. "But this is later than normal," he added eying them suspiciously.
They ignored the comment and took their seats, but after a couple of minutes and no sign of their boss, Thirteen got up to fix herself a cup of coffee.
She saw that the coffee machine was already filled with freshly brewed coffee, so she opened one of the cupboards to get out a clean cup. As she was reaching out to open the cupboard, she suddenly found that her head was spinning, and before she could regain her balance, her foot slipped on a small, round object. Kutner and Taub looked on in confusion and horror as she suddenly crumpled to the floor, hitting her head on the counter top's edge on the way down.
Kutner jumped up from his seat and rushed over to her. "Thirteen? Are you alright?" He received no response from her, and worriedly glanced up at Taub, who was by now also kneeling next to Thirteen. "She's out cold."
Taub grabbed a penlight and began examining her. Her pupils appeared normal, but when he began to check her head and neck over, he found some bruising and a large lump on the back of her head, in addition to the small bruise she got when she hit her head on the counter."Did she hit her head recently? The bruising here is obviously from the counter, but this is from something else." He pointed out the injuries to Kutner.
Before Kutner could reply, House chose that moment to stroll into the conference room, happily munching on a donut. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the scene on the floor, and said, "You guys should have told me we were playing Kill My Coworker, I'm the world champion, you know."
Taub looked from House and back to Kutner. "You never answered my question," he pointed out to Kutner impatiently. "Has she hit her head recently?"
The guilty look said it all, but before he could formulate an answer, Foreman strolled into the conference room with his newspaper (which he had inconspicuously left the room to fetch before Kutner and Thirteen had arrived) folded under his arm, enjoying his own (chocolate!) donut with a cup of coffee. He frowned at the scene before him. "...What happened here?"
"I was wondering the same thing," House said conversationally.
Taub, who was in the process of paging one of the nurses, titled his head toward Kutner. "Ask him, I'm not entirely sure what is going on either."
Kutner sighed, a miserable sort of sigh that oozed of his guilt over whatever it was he wasn't telling the rest of them. "She's concussed. She hit her head last night while she was over at my apartment, and I guess hitting her head again wasn't the best thing for her right now."
House groaned. "She hit her head and you didn't do anything about it? Ever heard of Second Impact Syndrome?"
"I thought she was fine, honest!"
"You thought she was fine? You didn't bother to check?" Foreman pressed, sitting down and opening his newspaper.
Kutner faltered a little. "I asked if she was okay!" he said indignantly. "I told her we should check it out, but she said she was fine."
House was looking at the floor, and bent down and picked up a small red object that had rolled over towards him. "I've been looking for this!" he said contentedly, tossing it up in the air and catching it again.
A silence passed through the room. "What?" House asked, glancing around at everyone. He then looked at the ball in his hands, and then down at Thirteen, who was still passed out on the floor. "Well, shit," he said.
"She tripped because you left your stupid toys lying around!" Kutner said, sounding far more peeved and defensive than he had meant to.
House rolled his eyes. "Please, if you had bothered to get her checked over properly, she wouldn't even be here, she'd be resting. Don't blame this on me."
"Blame what on you?" Somehow, Wilson had entered the room entirely unnoticed by the other occupants, even House. When he too took notice of the scene before him he sighed in annoyance. "Beating up fellows again, House? I thought we've been through this, the insurance doesn't cover that."
"I didn't beat up on anybody," House said. He pointed his cane at Kutner. "He did that to her," he added, moving his cane between Kutner and the unconscious Thirteen. "She got a concussion last night and instead of getting it checked out, they had nerdy sex all night long and then she just happened to trip this morning and is now...well, you have eyes."
Taub and Foreman looked at Kutner, both with very similar accusatory looks in their eyes. "You didn't actually...?" Taub started, looking from Foreman, to Kutner and to Thirteen.
Wilson rubbed his temples. "House. I've told you a million times not to leave your things lying around, because something like this was just waiting to happen. And now it has and what are we going to do?"
"Well we don't have a case, we could sit around and wait for her to wake up," House suggested.
Wilson shook his head. "You are unbelievable. She can't just lay on the floor, you know."
"She's not going to," Taub chimed in. "One of the nurses is on her way with a gurney, and there's a room ready for her. She can rest in there until she wakes up."
House shrugged. "See, Wilson? All taken care of." He threw his ball at the other man, bouncing it off his chest and back into his hand. "This thing is harmless, really, this is pretty much all Kutner's fault."
"It is not, I honestly thought she was alright!"
Before any further argument could occur, the nurse Taub had paged showed up, and Taub and Kutner gently hoisted Thirteen up onto the gurney, extra careful not to inflict anymore injuries of any kind to her bruised head.
"Don't follow the gurney, young man," House said in a mock-maternal voice, stopping Kutner from exiting the room with his cane.
"Why not?" he asked, looking irritated. "The blame game isn't actually fun, if you can believe it. And besides, if your ball hadn't been lying on the floor, she wouldn't have hit her head again."
"It's still your fault she hit her head in the first place," House reminded him calmly.
"I never said I was the reason she hit her head. I could have a low-hanging light fixture for all you guys know," Kutner retorted, hoping he had won the argument at last.
"It was at your apartment, you're at fault. Besides, I seriously doubt it had anything to do with low-hanging lights or you would've said earlier. Which indicates your not letting us in on the details of this injury, further proving my favorite phrase, "everybody lies", so, really now, what did happen last night when you two were so innocently spending time together?" House inquired, taking a seat.
Kutner blushed slightly and mumbled something incoherent. House found that as proof enough of his suspicions, and didn't really push the matter any further.
"Well, now that that is all settled, let us wait for Thirteen to wake up." He paused for a moment before grinning to himself. "You do all realise how many 'Unlucky Thirteen' jokes we are going to be able to make after this, right?"