Chapter 2

Driving with House was always a nightmare. Wilson had prior experience of this. If he was honest, driving with the man was a bit like driving with a four year old. This really was backfiring on him. He really should have known better than to get excited about going back to McGill. Whenever, he looked forward to something a House drama always got in the way.

He'd worked very hard to get where he was and he wanted to inspire the younger generation by showing them what they could achieve if they really tried. Thanks to Cuddy, House was going to accompany him and give the students the wrong message. It would be hard to explain that the only reason House was an exception to the 'working hard' rule was because he was beyond brilliant when it came to solving the puzzle.

He sat beside House as he drove steadily onwards. His best friend was currently absorbed in his gameboy. It brought an amused smile to his lips.

"So what exactly did you do to get yourself stuck talking to a bunch of students?" Wilson asked lightly

"A guy in the clinic ran into me carrying a urine sample. He got it all over my jacket. So I whacked him over the head with my cane. The smell was so bad I had to borrow one of yours" House snarled disgustedly

"I thought you looked especially smart today"

Wilson cast an eye over his grey hoody. It was far from his smartest item of clothing but it was definitely an improvement on what he normally wore. The only thing that was niggling away at him was the red letters emblazoned across the middle of the hoody: McGill.

Wilson was proud of his medical school. It was partially why he still held onto the sweater. He also appreciated the irony that was where they were headed. The only real issue Wilson had with House wearing it was that it did nothing to hinder the gay rumours. There had been a ridiculous amount of speculation for years about their relationship.

Yesterday, House had actually mentioned to him that there was a bet in radiology about how long they had been, as House so quaintly put it, fuck-buddies. He roared with laughter as he told a less than pleased Wilson that they were apparently sleeping together. Wilson was willing to bet his job on the fact that House was looking for a way to get involved in making a profit out of it. Wilson didn't care how House intended to do it as long as it didn't involve House pretending to the world he and Wilson were lovers. He did not want his reputation in tatters because of a House prank.

It wasn't that he had a problem with that sort of thing. Wilson, unlike House, wasn't prejudice of everything from race and sexuality to hair and eye colour (he had spent last year telling Chase he was a British Nazi because of his blonde hair and blue eyes). No, it just made things awkward. He didn't like turning his mind in that direction because it made hanging out with House feel awkward.

"How much longer, mom?" House whined

"House literally we are ten minutes away. Can you cut the: are we there yet? crapjust for a little bit longer" he groaned

"No!"

House was a permanent headache. He often contemplated what his life would be like if he had never met House. If House hadn't been at that New Orleans conference or hadn't been bored enough to bail him out of jail.

Dull and depressing. He could have been alone with no one to turn to. His first wife had just served him the divorce papers so she wouldn't be dashing over to New Orleans to rescue him. No he could have been stuck in jail for a very long time. Maybe there were worse people to go to a conference with than House.

10 minutes later Wilson's car pulled into a parking lot.