These short drabbles were written during my week on holiday.

It was Shropshire, it was raining, and writing fanfiction annoys my dad so naturally I was having a little Hilson-fest

I do not own House MD, Batman or, most regrettably, Eminem.


"I'm going to ask her to marry me."

"Well that's a shocker."

"I'm serious House; she could be the one – I'll never know if I don't take the chance."

"Let me save you some time." House suggested, helping himself to Wilson's lunch across the table. "You've taken the chance three times before because like the nincompoop you are, you believed they were also the so-called 'one'." He wiped the remaining chip around the salt on the late and then threw it into his mouth. Wilson raised one eyebrow, annoyed.

"I need to be in a relationship." He explained, standing up and walking over to dump the tray. House half-heartedly limped after him.

"But why her?" The diagnostician asked as they made their way into an empty corridor.

"Because I love her."

"You love me! Yet I never receive a proposal." House leaned on his cane, dropped his bottom lip momentarily and then batted his eyelashes. Or at least attempted to. Wilson just laughed at him and shook his head in despair.

"House, you would only break my heart." He sighed, sarcastically.

To the oncologist's surprise, House stepped forward and kissed Wilson firmly on his shocked lips.

"She better not break your heart." He said, breaking off and limping away. Wilson ran a finger over the tender skin; still wet with the moisture from House's mouth.

"House..." He started.

"I know, I know." House shrugged, "Deal with it."

So Wilson did in the only way he knew how – he sprinted after the diagnostician and spun him back around; gathering his stubbled face in his hands and kissing him deeply on the mouth.

"I don't think she's going to get the chance." He grinned into House's lips as his friend steered him into the nearest exam room...


Blame this on listening to 'Recovery' for hours on end...

I love you so much I can hardly breathe

But it's like you don't even

Give a fuck about me

You use me

You tear me apart

I can't even fathom how you have captured my heart

You limp around like a god with no feeling

But you ain't God

You is cursing God

Like a kid to the ceiling

And you play all your games

You drag your minions in tow

But there's no way they are figuring you though

Cause it's just me that knows ya

That can dig through your soul

Cause you've got one

That's a secret I've told

Deep in the caverns of that blistering hold

That you call life

Well it ain't a life if you ain't gonna live it

To the full

You're talking bull-shit

Think you're so smart

Yet you can't figure you are breaking my heart

I date nurses

So you can feel jealousy

But it's like you ain't seeing through me

Wanna take you home

Break through your hard stance

Just wanting some love

Don't need full blown romance

Cause I've been married three times House

It didn't go well

But anything beats living on in this

Life I call hell

Wanting you so much

Yet denied your touch

Gonna hide behind patients I care for too much

Keeping pseudo lovers

Hidden underneath my covers

Reaching for you

In the middle of the night

But you're not there

You need me to fight

We're always alright

Through your games and your puzzles

Always keep me in sight

Now I'm asking you please

Will you drop your facade

Wanna keep you forever

Want you to fuck me so hard

But you're looking at Cuddy

Like some free eye-candy

Not even sparing

A small glance for me

So here I go

Setting you up

With this and that ho

Knowing that there ain't no way

You'll be taking me home

Beyond your sofa, light beer and TV

So tonight I guess again

I'm just sleeping with me


House abruptly broke off the conversation he and Wilson were having as they crossed the parking lot, by brandishing his cane in the direction of his motorbike.

"To the House-Mobile!" He yelled enthusiastically, before throwing the end of his cane back down to the floor and limping heavily away on it.

Wilson stood beneath the lamplight, his hands on his hips.

"If I remember correctly, Batman had the car and his side kick Robin had the bike."

House reluctantly turned round and cocked his head sideways, saying patronizingly, "But the Wilson-Mobile doesn't sound as totally awesome."

Waving his finger in the diagnostician's direction, Wilson pointed out; "And Batman was also a bigger hit with the ladies." The oncologist smirked as he headed towards his car.

"Well that settles it then," House bawled across the car park, "You remember incorrectly."


"I'm a doctor. You're a doctor. Between us we should have enough experience to be able to tell if I am ill or not."

"The board of directors wanted a verified opinion." Wilson said, for the umpteenth time, attempting to remain patient.

"But they even have cheery posters on the walls! And mini human beings!"

Wilson sighed into his hand, "Those would be children."

They were sitting in a small doctor's waiting room, the other side of town. The white washed walls were adorned with posters such as how to remain calm when you think you have an STD and coping without your colon. On the opposite side of the room one of the children started bawling. House very obviously stuck his fingers in his ears, nearly whacking the stranger next to him with his cane in the process.

"Doesn't it come with a mute button?" He yelled across the din.

Wilson smiled apologetically at the child's mother and nudged House in the ribs with his elbow.

"Cut it out."

"Sorry? I can't hear you!" House responded, fingers still in his ears.

"Gregory House?" The receptionist called across the crowded room. Reluctantly House stood up. Hardly giving him a glance, she waved her arm in the direction of the first door.

"Need me to hold your hand?" Wilson asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow, crossing his arms and leaning back in the seat.

"I'm sure I can manage." House answered equally sarcastically, and then stopped in the middle of the room. Without turning around he addressed the oncologist.

"Wilson! Book a motel and buy a packet of rubbers."

"What?" Wilson exclaimed, all confused and aware that every eye in the room was looking at him.

House slowly backed into the exam room pointing his cane at a poster on the wall as he did so.

"It instructs us to practice safe sex." He pointed out, "We'd better be getting on with it if we ever want to reach any level of expertise."

Wilson groaned audibly into his hands and the diagnostician disappeared through the door.