Title: Transmission
Author: Arwen Kenobi
Rating: PG
Pairing: House/Wilson
Disclaimer: Not mine. No profit. Just for fun. Don't sue me.
Summary: "Please tell me you took something for that"

Wilson was alerted to House's arrival at their apartment by the sound of an opening door and a resounding sneeze. "Please tell me you took something for that," Wilson sighed as way of greeting as he continued to flip through the television channels. House's hay fever was acting up again, and he'd made sure the whole hospital was just as miserable as he was.

"Meningitis," was the reply. Wilson dropped the remote and turned around to take a glance at his friend. House was already past the couch, tossing his helmet and keys on the nearby desk and shrugging off his coat. He eventually took notice of Wilson as he used his body to slam the closet door closed. "The patient," he clarified, "she has meningitis."

Wilson allowed the sigh of relief to escape him as he heard House walk into the washroom and start raiding the medicine cabinet. "Bacterial or viral?"

"Bacterial," House yelled back just before another sneeze echoed through the apartment.

"Didn't you suggest that right when you got the case?" Wilson asked as he moved to the kitchen to boil some water for tea.

"Yeah I did," House grumbled. "The one time that the stupid suggestion is right is the one time my minions decide to think outside the box and go through all the cool diseases first."

More rummaging rattled through Wilson's ears, what the Hell was House looking for in there? The Holy Grail? "Well why did you take the case in the first place if you knew it was meningitis?"

"Cuddy," House muttered and Wilson saw no need to press that subject. It was probably some donor's sick relative, or else she was just looking for ways to reiterate the point that she owned him. The water boiled and Wilson set about trying to find some clean mugs. House ever was still ranting

"…didn't touch the damn file," House was saying. "I told them it was meningitis and then decided to have a nap. I woke up with my neck twisted in a way I didn't think was physically possible."

"You know neck pain is a symptom-"

"Yeah and the sky is blue, Jimmy. Did you miss the part where I mentioned that my neck was twisted in ways unknown to man?"

"Fine, fine, fine."

"Don't patronize me, you're not my wife."

"Something I thank God for every day."

The rummaging in the bathroom stopped and was replaced with the familiar tap-thump of House's footsteps coming down the hall and then the sound of House dropping onto the couch, probably taking up the whole damn thing as usual.

"Camomile?"

"Camomile," Wilson replied as he walked out. Surprisingly House had not taken over the couch but was settled as usual on the side closest to the front door, feet propped up on the coffee table. He passed House a cup without a word and settled down beside him with his own. House put his tea down for a moment as he dug around in his pockets for what Wilson assumed was Vicodin. He ended up pulling out a bottle of cold and sinus Tylenol.

"No Vicodin?" Wilson asked with a hint of surprise.

House downed the pills with his tea. "Vicodin does many wonders; clearing up my sinuses sadly is not among those wonders."

Wilson tamed a cynical chuckle, turning into a light snort. "At least you're finally taking something," he commented. He gave his friend a side long glance. "Are you taking preventatives as well?"

"What are you, my mother?"

"Forgive my concern."

"I don't have it!"

"Oh I don't care if i you have it. I don't want it!"

House glared at him and Wilson matched it with as much intensity as he could muster. They managed to keep up the staring contest for about two minutes before Wilson lost it and started laughing, House joining in seconds later. He'd barely caught his breath when House grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a chaste, but long, kiss. "There," he said with a triumphant grin as he pulled back. "Now you'll have to care if I have it."

"Ass," Wilson muttered as he wiped his lips on his sleeve.