Pop Goes the Question
Author's note: this is the first thing I've written in a while and was inspired by my recent obsession with the exploits of one Gregory House MD and my love of Huddy. This is the outcome I would have liked for Season 7 and is as per my MO, very slushy. Sorry if anyone is too OOC. I found House really hard to write. Let me know what you think. Bit of a car crash? (well, not literally in this version).
This was it.
James Wilson was a forgiving and, he liked to think, mature man. One had to have a particularly high tolerance level if one was going to make similar choices in best friends after all, but Gregory House's latest prank had landed him in hot water.
Cuddy had taken Rachel to Disneyland for a fortnight and since she knew House would rather gouge his eyes out than stand on an aching leg for hours in sweltering temperatures waiting to board kiddie rides, she had gone with her sister and her family, leaving House to regress back into his childish habit of tormenting his friend.
Oh who was he kidding? House was always an overgrown child. James had to admit that he occasionally enjoyed the freedom from convention that House brought out in him. However, unlike the diagnostician he appreciated there was a time and place for rules and socially acceptable behaviour. For instance, when your friend, who happens to be the head of the oncology department at a respected hospital, is having a consultation with a severely musophobic twelve year old patient, he could be forgiven for thinking that placing a family of mice in the desk drawer you knew he would have to open would be considered inappropriate. Wilson's ears were still ringing from the yelling of said patient's very verbose mother who was only just persuaded not to report the hospital for poor hygiene practices. The boy was now to be treated at Princeton General.
That was why he was now rooting through House's desk in the absence of 'the ducklings' (House's 'affectionate' name for his team), looking for payback inspiration (okay, he wasn't that mature...).
That was how his fingers came to brush the soft velveteen material of a jewellery box. A small jewellery box.
It took James a moment to process the implications of this. When he did, he had to suppress a yell. He feverishly opened the box to reveal a ring. A lapis lazuli flanked by two diamonds on a silver band. "Woah?" Was all he managed. He wasn't sure how to feel. His instinct was to feel joy for his two friends but he had been with them for long enough to know all the ways this could backfire. Their first breakup had pretty much wreaked House. After a month of him going out of his way to be as outrageous as possible, Wilson had dragged him back to Doctor Nolan by his metaphorical ears. That evening, the two of them had gone through House's apartment with a fine tooth comb and banished the last vestiges of Vicodin from it. Meanwhile, Cuddy had had time and space to think about her decision. Should he have been there for her and focussed on her needs? Yes. Was the fact he had been freaked out enough to drive him back to narcotics unforgivable? She hadn't been so sure. Once she heard House was back in therapy she had given him a call for encouragement. Three months later, they were back together, to the joy of Rachel who had inexplicably attached herself to the guy, and the relief of everyone else. That was three years ago. Cuddy and House had established a homeostasis in their relationship. Was it wise to upset that? 'What if she says no? Does he really want to do this? After all, he has never been the marrying kind...'
Wilson was interrupted by the sound of a cane's soft thud on the carpet in the entrance to the office 'stupid! How did I not hear? Its not like he's easy to miss!'"y'know, it's rude to look in other people's stuff" the cane's owner informed him.
"What is this?" James spluttered, ignoring the hypocrisy of the last comment.
"That, Wilson is a ring. I would have thought you'd recognise one of all people."
"Oh, ha ha!" Deflection via personal barbs was a talent of his. Fortunately James had played this game often "You do know what you are doing with this?"
"Well, its normally the custom to put it on the lady's finger..."
Wilson felt his blood pressure rise a few points "but...marriage, House! You, married? You don't even believe in it!"
"Apparently, I've changed"
James was about to say 'I'll believe that when I see it' when he realised he already had. House was still a snarky ass, still prone to saying the wrong thing, still immature and cynical as hell. But the sharpness had softened, the walls had been knocked down a few notches. He had done better.
"You'll have to sell the apartment" Cuddy's one major issue with House now was the fact he had still kept his old apartment despite having practically moved in with her. It made her feel slightly uneasy about House's commitment.
"When I cancelled last week, I wasn't really working a case" House answered, finding himself on the wrong side of his own desk "sorry".
"So you sold it?"
"Well it was practically empty and Cuddy kept bitching about it..." The two exchanged a look and a hint of anger flashed in the light blue eyes of the older man "what are you trying to do? Tell me its a bad idea? That I might get hurt? That she might get hurt? Already happened. Point is this is what she wants."
"And you? Is this what you want?"
"Oh sorry, I didn't realise this was amateur psychiatrists hour. At least let me lay on the couch first?" House trailed off, his eyes focussing on something behind Wilson "the chair.." James sighed. He'd lost him. House was off as fast as his limp could carry him, head buzzing with a medical epiphany that James could not decipher. He realised that he was still holding the ring. Putting it away, he decided to drop it.
"So, he was allergic to his new chair fabric?" James asked at lunch later.
"Yep. Sucks that he'll have to spend a little less time on it now. Still, sedentary lifestyle is a killer, you know"
James scoffed "You are a total hypocrite..."
House made a face "hey! Bum leg, valid excuse". He swiped a few fries off James' plate and grimaced as they made contact with his taste receptors "these fries have vinegar on them" he said with distain.
"Yes they do"
"I don't like vinegar"
"I know"
"Ruining your own food to deprive your friend is a pretty bitchy thing to do, Wilson"
"One, I happen to like vinegar, two, you could always, you know, pay for your own fries" James sometimes wondered whether at certain points in their friendship House would actually have starved if he hadn't been allowed to freeload off The younger man.
"Bitch" House responded, leaning back in the booth that he and Wilson unofficially owned. He had once written as much on the table in Tippex but had been made to clear it up by Cuddy who had caught him in the act. Turned out you couldn't get out of trouble with the Dean of Medicine just by sleeping with her. Speaking of which... "So, how do people do this proposal thing, then?"
"So you actually want a consult on romance?"
"Who better than the cancer curing Casanova, himself?"
James decided to forget that comment.
"Also, best men are kinda meant to help out"
It took Wilson a lot longer than it should have to register. It made sense after all. He was the only one remotely qualified for the job.
The next time Wilson saw Cuddy, he was standing opposite her office, getting some paperwork signed in the lobby. She was standing on Wilson's side of the glass door, greeting a potential new donor while James surruptiously squinted at her left hand as she raised it to shake that of the donor. He had to fight the urge to fist pump when he saw what he'd been looking for. The ring sat on the third finger, looking remarkably pleased with itself.