Excuses, Excuses by asesina

Disclaimer: I don't own House.

Summary: House is just making excuses to spend time with Wilson. Friendship fic.

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Dr. Gregory House was on his way back from lunch when he spotted a certain brown-haired oncologist from the corner of his eye.

He quickly picked up his pace and made it to his office in an impressively short span of time, especially for someone who relied on a cane to get around.

House pulled the glass door behind him and it slammed shut with a resounding clang. He was surprised that the damn thing didn't split in two as he scurried back to his desk and sat down.

"House!"

House lifted his eyes and smiled innocently as Wilson barged in the door and promptly folded his arms across his chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should have held the door, but I just didn't see you behind me," House said with a smirk.

"Why the hell did you drug me?" Wilson demanded angrily. He glared expectantly at House, but the gray-haired doctor just spun in his office chair and stared back at him.

"Oh, come on, Wilson, don't act so surprised. I was just doing it to make the meal a little more tolerable for both of us," House said nonchalantly.

"You can't keep pulling these kinds of pranks, House. You're a grown man in a relationship, and playing tricks on your girlfriend's mother and any other unsuspecting fools," he paused, pointing dramatically at himself," is just too immature!"

"Are you done gesticulating? Wait, that sounds dirty, doesn't it?" House asked with a wry grin.

"You planned out this entire thing, didn't you? I should have known! You would never agree to dinner with Cuddy's mother unless you had something up your sleeve," Wilson sighed.

"You've got me all figured out now, Jimmy," House replied sarcastically.

"Well, I guess hindsight is twenty-twenty. The next time I find myself believing that you're actually capable of being an adult for two hours, I guess I'll take a page from your book and add a little cynicism to my life," Wilson said as he leaned against the wall and rubbed a hand across his face.

"Oh, get off your high horse, Wilson. You had fun," House pressed.

"House, just- just stop it with the games for once, will you? I've had a rough couple of days," Wilson admitted.

"Exactly. You went along for the ride because you needed a little pick-me-up after bitchy ex-wife number one left you last week," House stated. He caught the pained expression on Wilson's face and smiled to himself. He was on the right track.

"Admit it, even you were a little surprised when Mama Cuddy stopped flapping her gums mid-sentence," House said with a grin.

"You do still surprise me, and I think that that fact is the most surprising of all," Wilson mused. He studied his fingernails absentmindedly and cleared his throat when House failed to break the silence.

"So, what are you doing this weekend?" Wilson asked casually.

"Nothing. Jersey Shore is on. I need to see if J-Wow or Sammi is going to win the hot ghetto cat fight," House said with a smile.

"I think that you're forgetting about the monster truck rally on the 23rd, House. It's only going to be in New Jersey this Sunday, Sunday, Sunday," Wilson said in a feeble attempt to imitate the booming voice of the announcer from the obnoxious radio commercials.

"Now I can see why you became a doctor. Howard Cosell has nothing on you," House said with a grin.

"But you hate monster trucks," House added as he narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, and? Can't I spend some time with my friend? Cuddy didn't give you a curfew, did she?" Wilson inquired with raised eyebrows.

"You just want some quality time with your best bud in the whole wide world," House said with mock earnestness as he flashed Wilson a toothy, mile-wide smile.

"You do owe me for what you did at the dinner last night," Wilson noted.

"You've got a point, but why monster trucks? Why not something you like, maybe obscure Kurosawa films or heart-to-heart chats or whatever you mushy oncologists do for fun?"House asked as he leaned back in his chair.

"Don't question it, House. We're going to the monster truck rally on Sunday, and that's final," Wilson said firmly. He let a smile flit briefly across his face before he set his mouth in a firm line again.

"Fine, fine. Don't twist my arm, Wilson," House said as he rolled his eyes and absentmindedly twirled his cane between his fingers.

"So, it's a date?" Wilson asked.

"Don't put it like that, Wilson. You know how nervous I get on dates. I wouldn't even know which blazer to wear, and I'd spend the whole night worrying if it brought out the blueness of my eyes," House pouted.

Wilson straightened up and turned to leave.

"I'll see you on Sunday, House," he said.

"I'm only going because you guilt tripped me into going!" House called after him.

"Whatever you say, House," Wilson muttered to himself as he pulled the glass door shut behind him.

House didn't fail to notice the tiny smile that the oncologist was hiding as he turned and headed down the hall of the diagnostics wing.

End