"I'll order dinner," House said, flipping his cell phone open and ignoring a woman who held the front door for him. He limped into the parking lot, still scrolling through his numbers. "The last time you called, they held back on the heat." He smirked and lifted the phone to his ear. "The counter girl must've sensed the frailty in your voice."
"That's absurd," Wilson scoffed. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck with one hand, clutching his briefcase with the other. It had snowed again after the sun went down, and a fine layer of powder covered all the cars surrounding the hospital. The maintenance crew had only enough time to clear a few paths through the lot, and Wilson hoped there was a clear way to his car. For House's leg's sake. "I can take as much spicy food as you. I love spice. I live for spice."
"That a dare?" House grinned before diverting all his attention to his phone. "Sa dat khrap. Glub baan, daiprod."
"Wait, you speak Thai? Why do you always make me order, then?" Wilson cried, flinging his arms out as if to say to the world, "Why me?"
House waved him off and continued speaking into the phone. The only words Wilson could make out were "pad thai." House laughed at something the counter girl said, and with a quick "sa dat wee," he clicked his phone shut.
"She asked if Mister House was ordering the pad thai for a lady friend who doesn't like it hot." He quirked his head to the side and leaned on his cane, heedless of the icy pavement. "I told them to keep the chilies. Broaden your womanly horizons."
"Jerk." Wilson pushed at House's shoulder. The tip of House's cane slipped in the frost and he lurched to the side. He would have fallen if Wilson hadn't lunged forward to hold him by the elbow.
"Hey, cripple here!" House cried, poking his cane at the toe of Wilson's left shoe. "I go down in this weather, I break a bone! And there's only one good leg left."
"Sorry," Wilson said, releasing his hold. His face began turning a bright red that had nothing to do with the winter air. "That was stupid of me."
"Sure was," the older doctor muttered, dusting imaginary dirt from his coat. Wilson stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to continue onward to the car. His face felt hot as he silently berated himself. What was he thinking, being so careless like that?
These thoughts simmered in his mind for a few moments before he was knocked down by a slightly-lopsided flying tackle. All the air rushed from his lungs as they landed in a snow drift beside a bench.
House grinned like a maniac as he pushed his friend's head deeper into the fresh snow. "Oldest trick in the book, Jimmy," he said. "What happened to your guard?"
Wilson could only gape like a landed fish as House shoveled prickly cold snow down his collar. When the wetness soaked through to his skin, Wilson finally gave a yelp and retaliated by shoving snow into House's hair. But it only stuck in a few places, and it wasn't enough to stop the madman from his impromptu wrestling match.
Before he even realized it, he was laughing. They both were.
Wilson fought back valiantly, trying to wriggle out from under House. But as old and oft-infirm as the other doctor was, House was still pretty spry. Wilson wished his numb fingers could scramble to his briefcase, which would have been a good shield or weapon, but it had slid out of reach. Another aborted attempt to grasp the black handle only earned him a handful of snow in his unprotected eyes.
"This means war," he warned, wiping his face and panting for breath.
"Bring it, Little Miss Naïve," House taunted, holding him down by the wrists.
"Gentlemen." Cuddy's voice rang like a clear bell in the empty parking lot, and both men froze in the snow drift to look up at her. A chunk of white powder dropped from House's curly hair onto Wilson's stomach, and Wilson couldn't suppress another snort of laughter.
The Dean placed her hands on her trim hips and, with a sigh, calmly said, "You are both department heads. And, I might venture to add, grown men. Maybe you should act like it." She tugged her brown leather gloves on her hands.
"Geez, mom," House huffed. "You never let us play like the other kids."
"And get off of Wilson," she added before turning away. "He's going to be frozen solid."
A soft whffft was the only warning before the snowball landed on Cuddy's shoulder. She whirled around, her brows knitted in frustration. Both men pointed a finger at each other.
"You two are impossible," she growled, stalking off towards her car. "Go home, already!" she yelled over her shoulder.
"Well, that Thai isn't going to pick itself up," Wilson conceded. Once Cuddy was out of earshot, he asked, "Your leg?"
House sat back, now straddling Wilson hips properly. "You broke the brunt of my fall," he grunted, grabbing his cane from the snowy sidewalk and using it to regain his feet. "Feels pretty good, actually."
"Glad to be of service," Wilson grumbled. He picked himself up and shook his coat to get rid of the snow sticking to it, inside and out. House kicked the black briefcase over to him, and Wilson bent to retrieve it. "Did you see how pissed Cuddy was?"
"Yeah." The cane tapped on the ground steadily as House smirked. "You have pretty good aim. For a girl."
When he straightened, he saw House eyeing him with that hard, blue gaze. Wilson thought to hide the shivers from the melting snow under his shirt, but he knew House had already noticed. Now he seemed to be gauging how bad it was.
"We'll eat at my place," House concluded after a moment. "Closer. And funnier-looking dry clothes." With a nod, he began limping once again in the direction of Wilson's car.
Wilson was about to follow when a shot of panic stabbed through his heart. He jammed his hand into first his right, then left coat pocket until he found the old newspaper. It had gotten wet from their snow fight, and the faded newsprint was now runny and blurred. He could barely make out the shapes in the pictures; House's face was now just a dark smudge.
Wilson returned the newspaper to his pocket with a sigh. Oh well, he thought. This moment was more important anyway.
He rubbed his arms to stay warm and walked after his friend.