InsaneJournal

Current mood:

amused

House/Wilson, up to Oct 29th
What H/W I've written this far, posted at house/wilson at LJ:

Title: Forever
Author: lorielen
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gen. H/W friendship.
Fandom: House M.D.
Disclaimer: I totally own them. ... Seriously, NOT.
Spoilers: none
Time setting: jump back some good 17 years.
Summary: You owe me dinner for ever and ever. 400 words.
Notes: Un-betaed. All and any mistakes are mine.

Forever

Barely had Wilson stepped into the apartment when he found himself dragged to the kitchen and standing beside a smugly smiling Gregory House.

"Behold the god of the lazy and famished, freer of the stove-loathing."

The object of House's appraisal was a sleek, modern black microwave with five heating intensities and a popcorn button. Quite impressive. However, Wilson's burgeoning cooking skills didn't allow him to emit more than a throaty noise of grudged acknowledgement. House didn't really hear him, for he was busy rummaging through the freezer.

"Lasagne à Bolognese or the one with lots of cheese?"

Wilson grumbled, and House moved past him, towards the microwave.

"Well?"

"I said whatever."

"What do you mean, whatever? Tonight's a special night, it's this baby's first of many gourmet dinners."

House sounded excited. This time, Wilson couldn't quite hold back a snort.

"What?"

The stubbly man was looking at him expectantly now. Wilson shrugged, then held his gaze, snobbery sparkling in his own brown eyes.

"Pre-cooked food is nourishment, but it’s certainly not dinner."

House, of course, took offence on behalf of his beloved newest gadget. It wasn’t long before they were wrestling over control of the microwave door; House had even thrown both lasagnas inside, still in their packages, so that he could use both hands.

"Now, House, I know there's eggs and some cheese and tomato in your fridge, if you'll let me-"

"Don't want any goddamn omelette, why don’t you just-"

With a loud crack, the tiny door's upper hinge exploded, sending off a screw that narrowly missed Wilson's head. He almost wished it hadn't; maybe then House wouldn't be glaring quite this murderously at him... except he probably would.

"I'll get it fixed, or get you a new one, if it's the case." Wilson said, on what might have been a calming tone if he weren't talking quite so fast. House began to frown, so he quickly added, "Why don’t you, uh, order some pizza. On me."

House glanced angrily at him before leaving the kitchen, presumably to find the phone.

Later that night, as Wilson struggled to detach the tip of his slice of pepe-n’-garlic from the extra cheesy middle of the pizza, came House’s voice, full of finality.

"Wilson," munching, "you owe me dinner forever and ever."

Wilson rolled his eyes and mumbled, before sinking teeth on his pizza,

"Sure, House. Whatever."

Little did he know.

-*-

Title: Jargon
Author: lorielen
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: established House/Wilson
Disclaimer: I own them. ... Seriously, NOT.
Word count: 100
Summary: nearly all-dialogue. House and Wilson discuss the merits of medical jargon in... other areas. *exaggerated wink*
Notes: Un-betaed. All and any mistakes are mine.

Jargon

"Am I the only one worried about what our fellow human beings may think?"

"As usual, yes. And human beings aren't your fellows. They're out to eat your food and copulate with your mates."

"Copulate?"

"Hmm, hearing you use doctor words makes me hot."

"But you said the exact contrary last week! That hearing me drop the doctor bullshit and go for crude vocabulary made you hot."

"Well, isolate the recurring cause, doc."

"Did you just say I make you hot?"

"It's nearly an epidemic, you know. Six registered cases, innumerable unconfirmed suspicions."

House gladly let Wilson shut him up.

-*-