A/N: I could not think of anything House could do that would get him fired. At least, anything he hasn't already done. Spawned from sickness, seltzer, and M&Ms. Please review.
House picked up his cane and threw the last of his papers into the cardboard box. He'd filled only two with things from his desk, and left most of the bookcases intact. Smiling to himself, House wondered how he expected to carry them out to his car.
He'd really done it this time. In the past, everyone thought his shenanigans were just testing Cuddy's tolerance, to see where she really drew the line. But Cuddy knew House did what he did to help people, not simply to piss her off.
But he'd gone too far, even for House. He'd pissed off the wrong guy. This was worse than Tritter, worse than Vogler. The richest man in Jersey had been giving more than half his life savings to the hospital, one of the only reasons it remained open. And House killed him.
Not directly, of course, but he had refused to treat him.
"You self-absorbed ass! Do you know what this is going to cost us?!" Cuddy had almost murdered House on the spot. The family had made them a deal: get rid of the "inconsiderate, heartless" doctor, or never receive a grant from them again.
Cuddy never believed House was worth $100 million, but she could not even comprehend costing the hospital more by keeping him.
And so she fired him.
House picked up the smallest box first, stuffing it under his left arm. He'd have to make several trips, but it was better than letting someone help. As he turned to head towards the door, it opened and Wilson walked in.
"You idiot," he said, smiling as he placed his hands on his hips. House smirked back. "You're just too proud to treat anyone higher than you, aren't you?"
"No, I'm just too good to waste my time with trivial cases."
"He died!" Wilson almost shouted.
"See? Even you can diagnose that one." House put the box back on his desk. Wilson sighed and put a hand to his temple.
"There's a lot this hospital won't be able to do without you, House," he said after a moment. "But if one good thing comes out of you being fired, it's. . ." Wilson trailed off and House let a small smile begin to dance on his features as the unfinished statement fed his ego.
"I'm sure there's so much good that comes out of me being gone, you just don't want to say it in front of me. I'll cry." House frowned dramatically. "I know I can find someplace other than this to turn into my own private puppet show."
"I don't believe you," Wilson replied, shaking his head. House smiled again.
"Of course you don't."
"You will find someplace else. But I believe you'll miss it here." Wilson was half believing, half assuring himself. He knew House would find another boss to manipulate, another team to harass, maybe even another department to run. But Wilson knew there would be one thing House would never find anyplace else.
A friend.
Wilson helped House bring his boxes out to his car and watched him drive off.
And House knew, as he drove off, heading back to his apartment, recently unemployed, that Wilson was right. He would miss Princeton Plainsboro, Cuddy, his team, his department. But there was one thing he knew he'd never find again.
Wilson.