A/N-This is a belated April Fools Day (somewhat cracky) fic. Much thanks to theletterv for perservering through the story first, and catching those dreaded typos.

A Day for Fools

1

Taub had never really been all the fond of April Fools Day. Growing up, he had been the butt of many pranks, regardless of whether or not it was the first of April, but on that day in particular, things always went haywire. He'd been hazed, prodded, pranked, harassed, all in the name of a holiday. Luckily for him, as he grew older less people took it seriously, and so he rarely had to deal with any bullshit shenanigans.

But working with House, he could never be too sure.

Last year, he'd managed to glue everything in Wilson's office to the ceiling, and the year before that, he'd managed to get a pony in there. So far the pranks had only involved Wilson, but Taub didn't know if or when House would turn his pranks onto one of them instead and he had the nagging suspicion the prank would involve him.

Still on the lookout for any suspicious behaviour, he leaned closer to Chase so they could both look over the crossword.

"Do you smell something?" Taub asked.

"I dunno; not really," Chase admitted.

"Smells like peach."

"Oh yeah that's me," Chase relented with a pink tint to his cheeks. "New shampoo," he explained when Taub stared confusedly at him.

The door to the differential diagnosis room opened and Cuddy popped her head in. Taub's senses went on red alert; he could tell she was looking for House (honestly, why else would she be up here?) and that immediately made him wary.

"Has House said anything to you about me, or Wilson, or . . . uh, me and anyone else?"

Taub blinked at her. "No."

She sighed in relief and smiled at him. "You don't happen to know where he is, do you?"

"Sock puppets in the children's oncology ward, last I heard," Chase answered, shifting in his seat and clearing his throat.

"I already took care of that."

Taub stood from his chair, considering he couldn't think of anything for the crossword puzzle and he would rather find House and know what he was up to than being surprised when the bucket of cold water splashed on his head. "I'll help you look for him," he said, walking out of the diagnosis room and standing beside her.

She eyed him suspiciously, but he wasn't offended since he did the very same thing. "Why are you looking for House?" he asked as the door shut behind them. Chase's peach-scented shampoo still lingered.

Cuddy looked away from Taub and started clicking along the linoleum. "He needs to have a discussion with Wilson and I don't want him backing out of our bargain."

"Bargain?" questioned Taub.

She didn't answer. "Actually, you know what? I'm going to make sure Wilson knows they need to talk," she decided, then turned sharply so she was facing Wilson's office door, rather than the elevator.

Sighing, Taub quickly looked above the door to make sure there were no strings, pieces of tape, or anything that would otherwise hint that something beyond that door would heap mountains of Jell-O on him.

Apparently entering without knocking was a sexually transmitted trait as Cuddy pushed open the door to Wilson's office without warning. "Wilson," she greeted, then completely froze.

Both House and Wilson were fused at the mouth with their pants around their ankles. House was shoving Wilson against his desk, hand in his boxers and moving about in a very suspiciously erotic fashion. Wilson was rutting against House and stuffing his own hands down House's underwear and grunting loudly.

With a slurp they detached their mouths and turned to stare at the both of them, but other than that, neither of them moved.

"Er . . . April Fools?" Wilson attempted, but nobody bought it.

And for the first time in his life, Taub laughed on April Fools Day.

2

'Twas Friday night when doctor Gregory House

decided to look down his ex-girlfriend's blouse.

It was incredibly awkward for him to just stare

and attempt to see her frilly underwear.

She screamed and hollered really quite loud

and he ran away 'til he escaped from the crowd.

He burst into my office to excitedly crow;

"Cuddy's having sex again; just thought you should know."

So I found myself admittedly perplexed,

and asked; "And you assumed that I would be vexed?"

Plopping down in the chair with a small smile,

he chose to remain silent, just for awhile.

I waited with ease until he decided to speak

(his talent with silence undoubtedly weak).

"She's a needy mother who is recently single,

has really hot tits and she loves to mingle.

And like Sir Mixalot says, Baby Got Back.

But most important of all-her underwear's black."

Now, I know my best friend really quite well

and his paranoia and jealousy aren't that easy to quell.

He thinks that I am sleeping around with his ex;

because she's needy, he thinks we had sex.

Now just to be clear, because I know why he assumed,

and there were times in the past where the prospect had loomed,

we've never had sex; Cuddy's just a friend.

But (for April Fools) that wasn't the message I wanted to send.

And so with a shrug I nodded a bit

and said; "I knew if you found out that you'd throw a fit."

His mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide.

Apparently he had no idea that I'd lied.

So he stood with haste and said with a shout;

"Ah-hah! That's why you've been sneaking about!"

"Sneaking about?" I replied in confusion.

"Honestly, House, you've made up a delusion."

"Then why do you blush when I look at your face?

And when we brush arms, you run, quick in your pace?

You're not sleeping with Cuddy; you would not have admitted;

the glove does not fit; you've now been acquitted."

I realized quite quickly with surfacing dread

that I had fallen into his trap instead.

This conversation had never been about her.

His curiosity about my feelings had begun to stir.

Standing up quickly, I gathered my files.

"I have clinic." I was all persona and smiles.

He stood in my way so I couldn't go to the door

and then knocked my files all to the floor.

"You're such a tease," with a grin he said,

and then he clutched onto the side of my head.

He cleared his throat and without great haste,

he pushed our lips together, a kiss that was chaste.

My heart in my throat, I kissed him right back

and then he gave my ass a hard smack.

Both of us laughing, we kissed once again

and this time, I finally let his tongue in.

Then he pulled away, and I leaned in for more.

He said; "Unbuckle your pants; I'm shutting the door."

3

"We're not saying that's why you did it," Cuddy placated, although it was pretty damn clear that she was lying. "No one is accusing you of that, House. Strangers however, are going to assume that you did it to-"

"To what?"

Love the way she pursed her lips at me in frustration although that's probably not why she did it.

"You know why you did it," she finally accused. "Know what? The whole thing is childish. Rules clearly go through one ear and out the other. And I'm sick of it. So who cares why you did it? Do what you like, House, but deal with the consequences. I am through with being your mother."

A day couldn't go by without her throwing a hissy fit. Full days used to go by without her making me do clinic hours and now that's all I ever seemed to do. Commitment's a bitch and she's committed to making my life suck, that's what it was, and all because I was a shitty boyfriend and then I went and got myself hitched. What the hell was her problem? I'm tired of her vindictive bullshit. Thinking she can take it all out on me just because her heart's just as broken as mine used to be. Of all the shit I went through to please her and she's the one acting all butt-hurt?

"You know you're just taking it out on me because you're still hung up on me," I said intelligently.

"Wouldn't you just love that, House?" Get this-she actually had the nerve to sound condescending. "This is why I ended it. From the looks of it, you still don't understand why I broke up with you."

Any time she pulled that tone of voice on me, I ended up getting annoyed with her which probably wasn't the desired effect. "Other than the fact you're just PMSing because I'm not going to change to please you?"

Guy and Girl meet, fall in love, and she demands he change in order for them to get together was apparently a common plot in a chick flick, but it didn't actually turn out so well in real life.

"I think that's an oversimplification," she stated with her lips pursed again.

"Just tell me why you're angry, then, and I'll leave. Wanna know why you're suddenly all up in my jock."

"Tell you why we broke up? You honestly don't understand? How has this escaped your notice?"

"I'm not talking about that," I growled and took a step closer to her, the afternoon sun filtering through the windows to bathe her office in a golden glow. Feeling more than a bit annoyed, I scowled at her livid expression. "Gotta admit you're just pissed because I'm married and you're not."

"Make that faux-married," she corrected with a snarl. "You really don't understand why I'm angry?"

"Understand what?" Never really got why she refused to play along in my games and actually get into the heart of the matter. Gonna get her to admit what this pissy mood is all about eventually so why wouldn't she just come right out and say it?

"Give it a rest, House, not everything is about you!"

"You know I might have actually believed you if it wasn't obvious it is about me!" Up until now it was fun but now her refusing to tell me why she was being all pissed off was getting on my nerves.

"Never try to pull a fast one on the government, House!"

"Gonna make it all about the poor wittle government's feelings then, are we? Let me guess how this goes. You don't have any feelings whatsoever about my marriage, but you're only concerned because I might get in trouble with the government." Down her shirt, I could clearly see a black bra which meant she was wearing black panties, which meant she was having sex.

Never going to believe this, but I was wrong about her being hung up on me, then. Gonna just keep on acting like I actually think it's about me, though, and I just realized she's still talking and her boobs had distracted me.

"-Run this place with you pulling all your ridiculous stunts! Around children, House! And what do I get from all of this?"

"Desert the board, then," I suggested with a shrug, still glancing down her blouse and wondering why the shampoo she had used smelled somehow wrong, although it really shouldn't have.

"You would think it would be that simple, wouldn't you? Never mind the fact that this is my job," she muttered as she paced away from me, holding her forehead in her hand.

Gonna admit that I felt a bit like an idiot for assuming she really was upset about me when she was just pissed at me for probably putting her in as much trouble as I would be if they ever found out my marriage was a sham and the fact I apparently did something unprofessional in front of children. "Make you a deal," I opened and she turned around to face me and either didn't notice or ignored the fact I looked down her shirt again. "You tell me who you're sleeping with and I'll stop terrorizing the kids, or . . ."

Cry like a baby instead, I guess.

Never really understood how she could switch emotions so damn easily.

"Gonna tell me why you're suddenly bursting into tears or do I have to guess?"

"Say what you want House but the truth is, I'm pregnant," she managed through her tears.

Goodbye cruel world.

Never had I thought this day would come but apparently I'd knocked up my supposedly infertile girlfriend.

"Gonna keep it?" I asked hesitantly but she didn't reply. "Tell me," I insisted.

"A baby of my own is all I've ever wanted and you have the nerve to ask me that?"

"Lie to me," I demanded, heart sinking to the floor in dread.

"And what? Hurt you in the long run when you find out it's Wilson's?"

"You slept with Wilson?"

"We've been getting a lot closer since the wedding, we're both hurt and know each other and had I known-"

"Known what? Each other for years? Other than the fact I'm the only goddamn thing you two have in common, what the hell do you know about each other? For Christ's sake, Cuddy, he's my best friend and you slept with him? So what, that doesn't even matter to you? Long as you get to have your own baby it doesn't matter if you hurt me in the process?"

"Your best friend is just as guilty of this as me and you aren't pissed off at him," she pointed out reasonably.

Heart's pattering in my chest and zooming into my throat, making it hard to breathe. Been awhile since Wilson managed to keep something from me. Aching in my ribs and head and heart and stomach and I realized suddenly that my heart was being shattered again, but not because of Cuddy.

"But he didn't tell me," I managed weakly, my knees turning to jelly when I realized that Wilson would, of course, be a supporting father and not be able to spend as much time with me.

"You're not the centre of his universe as much as you might think you are," she snapped, wiping away the tears that had spilled down her cheeks.

Too many things filled my head at once and I couldn't breathe. Shy was something I had never been but I suddenly felt like I was, what with my cheeks burning and my heart palpitating erratically and the fact I just wanted to run away and hide. To her I might've been heartbroken over the fact she was pregnant, but I was heartbroken because my best friend was going to marry yet another woman and this time it wouldn't fail because there was a baby on the line and neither of them would give up.

"Say it, House," she demanded, standing in front of me and staring me in the eyes.

"It doesn't matter anymore," I mumbled and tried to look away. Inside my head there was a cluster of memories of Wilson and I laughing at each other and playing pranks and I knew it would never happen again.

"We both know that's not true," she whispered and I looked away from her.

"Both of us?"

"Know what, House, keep denying it all you want, but I'm not stupid. What's happening with the baby bothers you, and you know why."

Been able to lie to myself and even him for years, but I couldn't now, because she clearly knew and I couldn't deny that I was in love with him anymore. "Going to tell the world and make sure everyone has great Mock House fodder?"

"On the grounds that everybody knows, that would be a little pointless, don't you think?"

"We both know what we're doing," I admitted angrily, pushing my cane into the carpet. "Know that we're avoiding the goddamn subject. The fact we both know that this isn't just a damn game."

"Game?"

"And he's just as guilty as I am! 'We're a couple' he said. Gonna act like it doesn't matter but it does and he knows it! Play on, Wilson! It doesn't matter that you're just going to keep on marrying random harpies trying to keep up the lie so no one knows you're in love with me," I growled, snarling because now that Cuddy was pregnant with his child, the game was over and we would never be able to actually win.

And that was when I realized she hadn't been talking about me admitting I was in love with Wilson, but her. If her stunned face was anything to go by, anyway.

"You thought I was still in love with you," I stated.

"Ask me if I saw this coming and I wouldn't be able to honestly say I didn't. Me, I don't even know how I figured it out. How I knew he was the one you always . . ."

"I'm not going to apologize," I told her when she'd been quiet for a second too long and looked a bit too upset for my liking.

"Feeling the way you do isn't something you can help," she murmured with a dazed expression on her face. Don't ask me why I felt guilty, but I did. "Tell me the truth, House."

"Me?"

"You're not just saying this because it's April's Fools Day?"

"Too blind to check what day it is, apparently," I mocked half-heartedly.

"Blind? To what, see a calendar?"

See, and that was when I realized that downing pills and booze pretty consistently for the past few weeks had screwed up my internal calendar and that it was, in fact, Friday, and not Thursday, like I had thought ten seconds ago. Never before had April Fools escaped my notice, and I vowed to never let it happen again.

"Gonna tell me it was all an April Fools joke, then?"

"Give me a break, House. You really think I'd keep this joke up after the bombshell you just dropped?"

"Up the intensity of the joke just a tad and you get all kill-joy on me," I tried to play off, but I knew she wouldn't believe it.

"Never managed to fool anyone before," she said with a tinge of regret in her voice and I hated it.

"Gonna make a big deal out of it?"

"Let it go, House. You and I both know you weren't joking." Down she went, plopping unceremoniously on her couch and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Never again," she insisted, although it really did sound like she was talking to herself.

"Gonna tell him what I said?"

"Run up there and tell him yourself because I'm not getting involved."

Around the office, I spotted little patches of sunlight, casting odd shadows on the wall because I certainly didn't want to focus on her. "And is he in on your little pregnancy joke?" Desert me on an island with Wilson and, despite the treacherous heat and severity of the situation, he'd still find a way to manipulate the hell out of me so it wouldn't surprise me if he'd been the puppet master for this little prank.

"You really think I'd let him take the credit for this idea?"

"Never put anything past a woman scorned," I stated, then shifted awkwardly in my spot, looking around the office again. "Gonna have to apologize for scaring the hell out of me, you know."

"Make me," she scoffed and for the first time in a long while, she actually smiled. "You really ought to tell him how you feel before it's too late."

"Cry me a river," I muttered with an eye roll. "Never gonna happen."

"Gonna let him slip through your fingers then? Say you won't mind when he inevitably gets married again and I won't hound you about it."

"Goodbye," I chirped, heading straight for the door, because I was seriously not going to continue talking about this. Never, ever, ever admit to your ex that you're in love with your best friend. Gonna cause nothing but trouble.

"Tell him how you feel and I'll let you know who I'm wearing the black bra for," she propositioned, and I couldn't turn that down.

"A bribe I can totally get behind," I agreed, looking at her with a smirk. "Lie to me and I'll know."

"And I'll know if you don't tell him."

"Hurt Chase, and I'll make sure you regret it," I warned, relishing in the completely aghast expression on her face. "You know, if you're going to cover up your indiscretions, tell Chase not to use your shampoo," I told her and left, heading straight to Wilson's office and if you read the first word in each sentence of this section, you'll realize I just rick-rolled the fuck out of you.

4

Once upon a time, in a kingdom not too far from New York City, lived a stubborn jackass with no real understanding of, like, how people interacted and stuff. It was that trait that caused a lot of his problems and led him to many great adventures, such as marrying a random girl so she could obtain her green card.

After much boozing, partying, and not-having-sex-with-his-technical-wife, he arose after a fitful sleep, listening to the merrily chirping birds outside his window. Cursing the fact even animals had some sort of built-in feature to annoy the hell out of him at unforeseen hours of pre-noon, he stumbled out of bed as elegantly as a mentally deficient camel, and had some sort of conversation about Care Bears with his (again, only technical) wife.

He threw on a pair of rumpled jeans from the floor, and grabbed a shirt strewn across his dresser, sniffing it before putting it over his head. After he mounted his trusty steed, the mighty Repsol, he sped throughout the land to make it to the wondiferous Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, where he used his massive intellect to save insipid morons from dying. Or something.

After he graced the plebeians with his god-like visage, blinding all those not ready to partake in such beauty, he took it upon himself to annoy his best friend, Sir James Wilson of Wilsontonshire. Or rather, about five miles away from his own apartment, but Wilsontonshire sounded much cooler.

Alas, the stars had decreed that things would not go in his favour that fateful day, considering that Wilson was not in his office, but instead working, like the ungrateful swine he was. In retaliation for his lack of foresight, he decided to steal Wilson's lunch from the staff fridge.

However, again, Fate decided to intervene and on his way to relinquish his trophy for having to put up with such selfish shenanigans, the Great Villain Cuddy spotted him and, like the dreaded crow swooping to attack some kind of prey, charged at him.

Running for his life (or in this case, ability to be as lazy as he pleased) he took every turn he could manage, and eventually took an elevator and pressed a random floor. Out of breath, he slid free of the elevator when it stopped and found himself near the children's oncology floor.

Knowing that anywhere near children would be the last place Cuddy would ever look for him, he strode right into their play centre and began to make a grand puppet show out of two socks, already fashioned into puppets.

The tale was most fascinating indeed; with dragons, and witches, and violent brawls with vivid details, and of course, Prince Greg and Princess Jamie, who spent most of her time lecturing Prince Greg on his lack of princely appropriate attire, but of course, Prince Greg cared not for such frilly puffy things. Swords were much cooler.

It wasn't until Princess Jamie decapitated the dragon, blood gushing everywhere while Prince Greg gutted the mighty beast, that one of the children's mothers, Lady Uppity of Whereverthehellshire, began to protest and, in fact, decry the vestiges of our hero's honour, integrity, and actual medical degree, despite the fact her hellspawn and all the other tottering parasites had seemed to rather enjoy it.

After an argument in which our hero clearly bested the She Beast of Sluttery, she saw fit to demand he do something anatomically impossible to himself (although, were he to be honest, had it not been impossible, he was fond of himself enough to give it a go). Upon an inquiry from her hellspawn as to what she meant, our hero, purely out of the goodness of his heart, opted to show them all what exactly she meant by demonstrating with his sock puppets.

Much to the dismay of the She Beast.

It was at that point the Villain Cuddy spotted him and, with much swaying of her behind and jiggling of her voluptuous breasts, demanded he go directly to her office, lest he be faced with torture through clinic duty.

And that, my dear audience, is where the story really begins.


A/N-Happy April Fools Day! And is it just me, or is Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley a rather appropriate hilson song?