When Wilson walked into the men's restroom at PPTH, he was nearly deafened by the sound of bombs blasting and guns shooting, coming from the nearest cubicle. He yelled over the din.
"House, that better be the sound of your PSP, or I'm going to be seriously worried about you bowels."
The sound was turned down, but by no means stopped.
"It would make for an interesting diagnosis though." House answered, smirking as he blew something up.
Wilson leant against the sinks and looked at the door, crossing his arms.
"Why are you hiding in here? Cuddy?"
"She's been trying to date-rape me all morning – I've had to buy a hip flask."
"Ah! The horrors of clinic duty." Wilson realised. "She's not going to let you off it, she'll figure out when you are."
"Only if you tell her."
"Anybody with half a brain could figure out you'd be hiding in here."
"As I said before, that rules out Cuddy."
"Just because you think clinic duty is beneath you..."
"I never said that."
"You meant it."
"Well yeah, duh."
Wilson unfolded his arms and pointed at the cubicle door, "I reckon you're not at smart as you think."
The sound of the PSP was abruptly stopped. House swung open the door. Wilson continued,
"I bet you couldn't diagnose all your patients, using nothing but their case files, in the minute between you picking them up and walking into the exam room."
"That is a stupid bet." House smiled. "Fifty dollars"
"I bet you couldn't do it for one-hundred."
"You're on" Said House, hobbling down the corridor. Although he was very smart, it still took him a few moments to realise he had been conned into clinic duty. Again.
When House entered his office sometime later, Wilson was sitting behind the desk, throwing and catching House's ball. He didn't look at the diagnostician, but continued to focus on what he was doing.
"You failed."
"One patient!"
"Still failed."
"It wasn't my fault! If the people here had done their job competently-"
"You still lost" Wilson interrupted.
"It was a legitimate diagnosis!"
"But not the correct diagnosis!"
"It's not my fault if the notes said that she was male!"
"Pay up." Wilson ordered, swinging the chair round and dumping the ball on the desk.
"No."
"It was a fair bet."
"Er, no." House replied, with a shake of his head.
"Er, yes!"
"Fine." House conceded, pulling out a crisp note and dumping it in Wilson's open hand.
Wilson grinned; glad he had been the one filling out the admittance forms that morning...
Do not own. As ever.