Disclaimer: If I owned House, Wilson + everyone else, I would be hanging out with them and not sitting here in my living room waiting for House 'The TV show' to come on.

A/N: I know this story is going to be lame, but it's just a little thing I wanted to write in between chapters of my story "Hex", for some comic relief. I know burritos would not make this happen, but just take it for what it is, a cute House/Wilson switching bodies humor fic :)

Bad Burritos

House almost had his nose pressed up against the microwave window. The two burritos inside went round and round, and the small digital clock on the right side said that there was only 20 seconds until pure beefy bliss.

"Oh burrito.. In 12 heavenly seconds you will be mine.. and I will eat you.. and we will run away together-"

"You know one of those in there is mine right?" Wilson looked up from the newspaper he was reading for a second to catch House confessing his love to the burrito.

House turned his head towards Wilson, looking horrified.

"You are claiming one of MY burritos? Dr. Wilson!" House scolded and turned back to watch the countdown.

"I paid for them!"

"That doesn't make them yours. We're friends and friends share." The microwave beeped and House immediately popped open the door.

"So I have to share with you, but you don't have to share with me? Oh that makes a lot of sense," Wilson smirked.

House pulled out the two packages and tossed a scalding burrito over to his friend sitting at the round table.

The burrito smacked Wilson on his neck and he gasped and dropped his paper.

"Well you didn't have to burn me," he reacted and went to pick up his lunch.

"Have I ever told you, how much I love you," House remarked as he pushed out the top of he burrito and took a big bite, beans oozing from the side.

Wilson raised his eyebrow.

"Are you feeling okay? Should I leave you and the burrito alone?"

"Mmph." House gave Wilson a funny face, his mouth stuffed with lunch.

Wilson took a bite of his and looked back down at the paper.

"Hey Wilson," House asked seriously.

"What." Wilson looked up again, expecting something either actually serious, or something incredibly moronic.

"Do you like seafood?"

Moronic.

"Shut up," he smirked in response and took another bite.

House was about to flash his tongue with half eaten burrito in all it's glory, when he sudden felt really dizzy.

"Wilson," he said again, and put the burrito down.

Wilson didn't look up; he felt it too.

"These are some bad burritos," House closed his eyes and tried to fight through the wave of dizziness.

"That's the last time I'm shopping at the Glutton Mart," Wilson tossed his burrito down on the table and rubbed his stomach a little bit.

"I'll be seeing you Wilson," House rolled his head back.

Wilson looked at him, still rubbing his stomach and making faces.

"Because I'm about to pass out in a few seconds."

-----

It had seemed like hours, but in reality it had been a minute, maybe two. House opened his eyes and found himself looking down at a tabletop. He felt absolutely fine and raised his head.

He sat in front of himself, all stretched out in a chair, head back, and sleeping.. or something.

"Gah!" he freaked and "himself" woke up in the chair.

Was it an alien? Was he dead? What the hell?

"He" opened his eyes, and looked at House, sitting at the table, newspaper in front of him.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed from the chair and moved up his legs, immediately gasping in pain from the startle.

"Oh great, I died," House leaned back in the chair, until he caught a glimpse of his hands and arms.

He was wearing a white pansy doctor coat. Or - angelic heaven clothes? No, a doctor coat.

Oh God. He was Wilson. And Wilson was him.

"Why am I.. over there.. when I'm.. right here," Wilson said slowly and then looked at his own clothes. Jeans. A cane nearby, green t-shirt.

He was House, and House was him.