Title: Disproving Wilson-God

By: TriplePirouette

Category: Post Skin Deep, HouseCam, House POV

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: They're not mine- I'm a poor and having fun... take pity...

Distribution: my site, anywhere else please ask first :)

Summary: Post Skin Deep. 'Wilson was surely not God, especially if he hadn't picked up on this yet.'

Author's notes: I can find a ship in ANYTHING. Anything. Even a single sentence. Enjoy.

Feedback PLEASE at: I love anything constructive! Blatant flames, however, will be disregarded and used to roast s'mores...

Wilson (as God): House this is God.

House: Look, I'm a little busy right now. Not supposed to talk during these things. Got time Thursday?

Wilson (as God): Let me check; aw, I got a plague. What about Friday?

House: (Smiling.) You'll have to check with Cameron.

Wilson (as God): Oh, damn it. She always wants to know why bad things happen. Like I'm gonna come up with a new answer this time.

-Skin Deep

"House, this is God."

It had been funny, House thought as he twirled his cane in his empty office, Wilson thinking he was God. Wilson even assuming he knew anything about anything that didn't involve cancer or charming women was amusing to House. When the thought struck him that he constantly underestimated his friend, he quickly pushed it away.

House let his cane slide through his fist until the rubber tip landed on the floor. The MRI hadn't been conclusive. That had been on Tuesday and now it was Friday. His leg still ached, but his pride hurt more after Cuddy humiliated him. He'd quietly done his clinic hours the rest of this week, praying for another case so he could lose himself in that instead of the evidence about his addiction and the roots of his pain.

There was real pain. He was convinced that it was the extent of the pain that was the question.

The rubber heel of his cane bounced off the floor, popping in and out of his hand as he crated an even rhythm to think to.

He'd played along with Wilson, allowing himself to relax for the first time in days. While he was in the MRI he couldn't be bothered with the patient, or the pain, or Stacy, or life. While he was in the MRI he was effectively shut down from doing anything but sitting still. Being powerless, and accepting it in that moment, felt wonderful.

"Got time Thursday?" House asked.

"Let me check….aw, I've got a plague! What about Friday?"

House had smiled in the MRI when he replied to Wilson-God, mostly because nobody could see him. He smiled now, even at the memory.

"You'll have to check with Cameron."

House only half listened to Wilson-God's ridiculous reply. Wilson was operating on the assumption that Cameron was simply his keeper and knew his schedule better than House himself did. His little joke about Cameron's good nature was a good one, but it showed House that Wilson was still as clueless as ever. House's smile then and now betrayed his secret.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and lifted his gaze to the door. Cameron stood there, flawless as always, with a half smile on her face. She had her purse and briefcase slung over the same shoulder, a sure sign that she was ready to leave for the weekend.

He looked at her, his face not changing expression much, but enough to show that he was relaxed and happy to see her.

"Seven?" She asked quietly from the doorway.

House nodded. "Wear jeans, we're taking the bike."

Cameron's smile brightened as she nodded and slipped out the door.

Yes, they had a date tonight. Their third, in fact, since she'd saved him from crashing after Stacy's departure. House popped his cane into his hand, this time more tightly, and stood, searching for his keys.

Wilson was surely not God, especially if he hadn't picked up on this yet. As he headed out of his office, House wondered if it was in anyone's best interest to keep this hidden. He nodded to himself as he reached the elevator. For now, it was. But damn, it would be fun when they all found out.