Title: Excuses
Author: YoungFreak92
Beta: Aimee
Fandom: House MD
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor
Pairing: House/Wilson
Wordcount: 1 476
Feedback: Yes please, con-crit is very much welcome
Disclaimer: I don't own House MD or any of the characters. I'm just playing around a bit.
Summary: Wilson shows up at PPTH wearing House's clothes and Cuddy becomes very bewildered.
Author's Note: I tried my hand at humor. And to write Wonder Woman Cuddy. Aimee did a lovely beta-job, and since I haven't managed to write her a fic for her birthday (yet) I'm dedicating this to her. Now, what else is there to say? Oh, yes. To all who have prompted me; I am working on the fics, I swear, I'm just a slow writer and a perfectionist. I will finish them, sometime in a near future.
So without further ado, please enjoy the fic!

Cuddy got up from her chair with a sigh. She grabbed some five or six folders from the mountain on her desk and then turned out the door.

She was in a hurry, the clinic opened soon and she had a lot to go over with nurse Previn but she was walking calmly. She didn't have much of a choice, really. It was an art to walk nicely in a pencil skirt, but she had mastered it years ago. And besides she looked gorgeous in the grey skirt. Together with the black blouse she was absolutely stunning. Sure, every man she met ogled her, but while it was annoying it was also flattering in an odd sort of way. It made her feel attractive, wanted, and it was the kind of ego-boost she really needed when she was feeling like a big ugly toad.

She had almost arrived at the Nurses' Station and was idly wondering what God possibly could have against women so much that he decided to give them hell once every month, when her Head of Oncology came through the main entrance. She looked his way to confirm who it was, and then did an almost comical double take and the folders in her arms threatened to fall to the floor.

Wilson's stride was hurried, he looked stressed and maybe even the tiniest bit bashful. The coat and briefcase were slung over his arm as always, and his shoes were just as immaculate as ever. Nothing unusual there. Everything else, however, was not quite in order.

The slightly too tight and too long jeans threatened to trail on the floor and while the shirt was properly buttoned, it was horribly crumpled and maybe a little too tight for work, just like the jeans. The jacket was a bit too long at the sleeves and not quite correctly tailored for him, it hugged a little too tight like the rest of the clothes.

Cuddy found herself waiting for him to take out a cane. Her astonishment and incredulity must have been shown on her face, because a moment later when Wilson caught sight of her, he looked almost pained.

"It's not what you think!" he called and looked rather awkward when everyone else in the clinic turned around to stare at him. His awkwardness increased when they all did the same double-take Cuddy had done when they saw what he was wearing.

"Oh, so what am I thinking?" Cuddy asked as Wilson came up to her, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. He rubbed his neck with his free hand and looked down at his shoes. Cuddy noted that his hair was very mussed and tousled.

"Well, that House and I..." Wilson started but trailed off, looking horribly awkward and gestured his hand in a very non-descriptive way, probably trying to illustrate something. Despite the vagueness, Cuddy had a pretty good idea of what he meant. "Which we're not," he assured with emphasis when he glanced at her face.

Cuddy nodded slowly, still feeling very bewildered.

"So the reason you're wearing House's clothes is...?" she asked, slightly expectant. Sure, she was surprised, but it wasn't as if the news were shocking. What was most surprising was in which way it came out. After all, House and Wilson had always been close and shared a very strange relationship, so strange in fact that the nurses actually had a betting pool regarding whether they were sleeping together or not.

Apparently they were. Seemed like she'd lost ten bucks.

Wilson closed his eyes and slowly let out his breath, almost like a sigh but not quite. He seemed mildly irritated and very embarrassed. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down. When he looked up again he was slightly more composed and controlled.

"I spent the night at House's," he started to explain, his voice restrainedly calm, and gave Cuddy a warning look before she had time to interrupt, "because we were watching the game together. And when it was over, it was too late, I had drunk too much and I was in no shape for driving. So I spent the night there. On the couch. Alone."

"Due to some... unfortunate events that had happened earlier that night, my clothes were very much unusable. I was planning to drive home for a quick change before work, but someone haderased the awakening call on my cellphone so I woke up only half an hour ago. My best option was to hurry here and use the change of clothes in my office."

"So you drove here in House's clothes," Cuddy said slowly after a few seconds, her voice taking on the intonation of a question.

"It was either that or come here naked," Wilson said dryly and then glanced over his shoulder, wincing when he saw that people was still staring at him.

"I'm not sure if I believe you," Cuddy confessed after a short pause. Wilson's head snapped around and he stared at her.

"You think I'm lying?" he asked, incredulous and even a little offended. But while he looked affronted, his eyes had taken on that hurt, kicked puppy-look that instantly made Cuddy feel guilty.

Cuddy bit her lower lip. Wilson's story sort of made sense, even if it seemed unlikely. But Wilson didn't lie about these kinds of things, and frankly, it was House they were talking about. This was just the kind of prank he would play on his friend.

Cuddy sighed and waved her hand dismissively, clutching the folders to her chest with her other arm.

"Okay," she said. "Go and change. But you better hurry up, your shift starts in..." She glanced at her watch, "oh, ten minutes."

"Thank you, I'd almost forgotten," Wilson said sarcastically and then turned on his heel and hurried to the elevators, purposefully not looking anybody in the eye.

Cuddy watched him as he walked away and then turned her gaze to the clinic to find Previn. As she called out the nurse's name, she noted cheerfully that maybe she hadn't lost ten bucks after all.

It was almost noon and Wilson had just finished signing off Philip Neeson's file (54 years old, lung cancer, married and a father of three, had excellent chances at survival) when the door to his office flung open. He looked up just in time to see House storm in.

"I can't believe she bought it!" House exclaimed in disbelief, barely managing to keep his voice down. "What the hell did you tell her?"

"That you cunningly ruined my clothes while I was drunk," Wilson said calmly with a slight smirk on his lips. "I did however omit the part where you practically ripped them off me."

House huffed and dropped down on the chair on the opposite side of the desk, sulking like a three-year-old.

"I can't believe she fell for it," he muttered, and then looked up and said, in a much louder voice, "I mean, c'mon! I've seen her call more bluffs than I can count."

"Afraid I was too convincing?" Wilson asked, his smirk widening.

"You damn well must have been. How good an actor are you, exactly?"

"The best one you ever saw."

"Yeah, right," House scoffed, but the smirk didn't disappear from Wilson's face. "How the hell did you manage to convince her that we're not sleeping together?"

"I don't have a track record of constantly lying to her. That helped a lot," Wilson said but didn't explain any further and instead reached out his hand towards House in a 'gimme' gesture. "Pay up, you lost."

House scowled and reached for his wallet. He pulled out two twenties and reluctantly placed them in his friend's palm. "Extortioner."

"Hey, you're the one who said I would never be able to explain away coming to work in your clothes," Wilson pointed out as he put the bills in the pocket of his slacks. House muttered something inaudible and glared at the floor. Wilson's expression softened and his triumphant smirk turned into a fond smile.

"Go terrorize your team for another half an hour and then I'll pick you up for lunch," he said and House nodded slightly. Wilson watched him get up from the chair and head towards the door, but House stopped and turned around just as he placed his hand on the handle.

"Do you think you would be able to explain away coming to work in a drag?" he asked curiously, and Wilson failed to suppress a grin.

"Good-bye, House," he said and a smirk tugged at the corners of House's lips before he went out of the office and closed the door behind him.

Wilson looked at the door for another moment and then reached for another one of the files on his desk, a smile still on his lips.