Title: House Rules
Summary: "There are certain things you must know in order to survive as a foreigner in this great country, Wombat..." It was Chase's interview with House and he felt the need to go over the rules of survival in a new country with the innocent duckling...one day at a time.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: Uhh...odd humor, swearing, yaoi, graphic smut, groping, field trips, drinking, etc.
Rule Four: Beware the Battleaxe
"Now, Jimmy knows everything he needs to know about trying to win this bet," House continued. "You, on the other hand-"
"Didn't make any bet?" Chase offered before finishing his half of his own sandwich.
"Oh, it's too late to back out now, Wombat," the Diagnostician continued as he grinned gleefully. "Unless you want to forfeit to Jimmy and let him dress you up in something trampy to wear to work. ...Then again, it could be a major improvement from what you're currently wearing. Do all British people dress like a colorblind child in a dark closet?"
"Once more, I'm Australian," the blonde huffed before looking down at his mismatched shirt and tie, frowning slightly, "and what's wrong with my clothes? They fit quite well."
"Oh...God... Jimmy?" House looked over to the other brunette, who smiled gently at the blonde as though he were trying to comfort a kitten about to be dipped into icy water.
"Chase," the Oncologist said soothingly, "do you see anything wrong with your outfit?"
"It's obvious he doesn't," House quipped before gesturing at the blonde doctor. "Just look at what he wore to an interview, Wilson!"
"Hush now. Go on, Chase."
Not saying anything, the blonde looked back down at his clothes, "I shouldn't wear stripes?"
"The only thing you see wrong are the stripes?" the elder brunette asked incredulously before looking at his friend. "He's a lost cause, Jimmy! There's no fixing that!"
Waving off his exaggerating friend, the other brunette continued to smile softly as he spoke in a comforting tone to the young doctor, "It's not the stripes so much as the color. ...And the fact that you paired a green, striped shirt with a pale pink...ish... tie."
"If that's a pale pink then I'm the Pope," House commented, getting a dismissing wave thrown in his direction.
"I'm sure what Greg means is that...well, I'm not too sure of what he meant by that one-"
"It's a salmon-colored tie."
"But the point we're getting at is that, quite simply, your outfit doesn't match. ...At all."
"Trust me; Jimmy's big on fashion. He wouldn't lie to you just so he could be the snazziest male slut in the hospital."
"Did you just use the word "snazziest" in a- Hey! I am not a slut!" the brunette snapped at his grinning companion.
"Just ignore him," House told the confused blond who continued to look between both men and his clothing while they spoke. "Dress however you like. I'll mock you either way. You're the Ray Charles of Diagnostics."
"He's basically calling you blind," Wilson clarified at the confused look on the Australian's face.
"But back to my original topic," the other brunette cut in, not wanting to explain who they were talking about to the younger male just yet. He would be able to tease him mercilessly about it for months to come if the blonde had no idea what was going on most of the time. And something told him that the blonde could be both a dimwit and sharp as a tack in the same breath of a sentence. "Rule number four is to beware the Battleaxe. Most call her "Brenda" but, rest assuredly, she's a battleaxe."
"...I don't understand," Chase muttered as he looked over at Wilson.
"He's not saying that Nurse Brenda is unappealing to the eye, per se."
"Woof!" House barked loudly as he grinned, getting more glares from nearby doctors and nurses. "She's a dog."
"She is not," Wilson defended.
"Sure, stand up for your girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend!"the Oncologist cried out as softly as he could manage.
"Is she next on the "Boy Wonder list of future wives?""
"What? No!"
"Women to pound into a mattress?"
"No! Brenda is not going to be a future girlfriend of mine nor is she going to be a future wife!"
"For your own sake, you better hope you're wrong," the Diagnostician remarked as he grinned widely. "Because if you're right then you'll be dressed in some frilly, horribly discolored and mismatched ensemble that the Wombat will put together. Granted, I'll make sure it's in the right size so you won't have any excuse not to wear it and all."
"Very funny, House," Wilson replied dryly. "You know that Brenda is not easily charmed."
"She has the sex drive of a rock," the Diagnostician added with a sly grin.
"...A rock?" Chase repeated, unable to stop a slow smile from gracing his face. "As opposed to you; having the sex drive of a bunny?"
"I like him," Wilson snickered while House just grinned brightly, his expression emulating a proud father who had just witnessed his son kill a deer with a bullet between the eyes.
"This coming from a kid who probably spent every night of his teenage years sleeping in a different girl's bed?"
"Someone's upset his bed-hopping days are long gone," the blonde teased, grinning back at the brunette.
"Hey, at least my bed-hopping days weren't last week, Brit-Boy!"
"Australian!"
"It's practically the same damn thing!" House called out, his bright blue eyes lighting up with glee at the shade of pink that his newest duckling turned, watching jubilantly as the young doctor gaped.
"Greg," Wilson practically breathed in a voice of disappointment. The brunette doctor would have felt more ashamed at himself if the blonde was not reacting in such an amusing manner. He acted like a five-year-old would if they were told that ice cream was made from puppies; horror, astonishment, sickness... It really was amusing to watch the range of emotions flitting across the blasé foreigner's face. It proved that the doctor would provide adequate amusement should things get to boring around the hospital. "He didn't mean that," Wilson soothed the little duckling before glaring at the Diagnostician. "Right, House?"
"Right, all in good fun," He acquiesced, watching intently as the blonde's mouth snapped shut, cools pools of blue and green narrowed slightly in the brunette's direction in both anger and embarrassment at having been ridiculed and falling for the simple ploy. He could tell that the blonde was going to need some sort of peace offering if he was going to get back into his flippant and playfully sarcastic attitude. Looking around, the brunette grinned at the sight of something lying beside Wilson's lunch.
Quickly reaching over, the brunette snatched up the innocent looking treats before holding some out to the blonde, ignoring how his friend rolled his eyes. "Please, help yourself," the Oncologist grumbled before swiping the remaining Hershey Kisses off of the table and slipping them into the pocket of his lab coat. "It's not like I brought them because *I* like them."
"Want a Kiss?" House offered as he batted his eyes playfully at the Intensivist.
"Please tell me that is not one of your pickup lines," Chase teased, unable to help the slight curve of his lips as he reached out and plucked one of the foil-wrapped chocolates up by the printed paper tail that emerged from the top.
"No; hookers don't need pickup lines if you have cash. But feel free to use that one on the Battleaxe and make sure to tell me if it actually works!"
"So you can attempt to date her?" the blonde quipped as he swiftly unwrapped the foil, taking great care not to tear the delicate material as he spread it out. Pulling the ribbon of printed paper away from the chocolate Kiss, Chase picked up the treat before popping it into his mouth and grinning at House. "You know, you could always ask her out rather than making us do your dirty work for you. I'm sure if you gave up the hookers-"
"Greg giving up hookers?" Wilson snorted in amusement.
"Oh, you have no idea who you're messing with," House taunted as he unwrapped one of the Kisses, popping the chocolate into his mouth before wadding the foil and paper into a ball, flicking the trash-able item at the blonde and hitting him in the center of his forehead. "Wait 'til you meet her; you'll probably be on the next flight back to London."
"Melbourne," Chase corrected as he swirled the chocolate in his mouth, letting it melt across his tongue. "And I think you're being a bit dramatic."
"Au contraire mon frere," the brunette replied as he grinned. "She's a beast."
"He's, for once, actually telling the truth. ...To a degree," Wilson chimed in before taking another bite of the remainders of his own lunch. "Brenda Previn can be-"
"A bitch," House cut in as he smirked.
"I was going for "a bit difficult to handle," actually," the other brunette replied before smiling soothingly at Chase. "She's headstrong."
"A bitch."
"Resilient to House's tricks."
"Bitch. Just say it, Jimmy."
"She's temperamental."
"She's bitchy. Bitch-like. Bitch-ish, if you would."
"House, seriously."
"I'm being very serious," House replied even though a large grin was plastered to his face. "I'm warning you, Wombat, should the She-Devil show any signs of aggression towards you, cover your balls and run."
"Really?" Chase asked as he sipped from his water. "Just my balls? Can I cover my dick was well?"
"Oh God, he's already catching your personality!" Wilson gasped in mock-horror. "Cuddy's going to freak if she finds out that you're creating an army of...you!"
"You're *years* too late!" House teased as he laughed maniacally, rubbing his hands together. "Do you realize the sheer number of doctors that have worked underneath me?"
"...And how many of them quit after one week?"
"Irrelevant!" House exclaimed, getting Chase to raise his eyebrow in silent question. "Anyone who has worked for me for longer than one hour has had their life irrevocably altered!"
"Imagine what you could do if you used this power for good instead of evil," Wilson jibed, grinning slightly at his friend.
"You can't be naughty when you're good," the surly Diagnostician retorted as he grinned, winking in Chase's direction.
"What was that?" Wilson asked seriously as he looked between the two.
"Not a damn thing."
"House..."
"It was nothing, Jimmy."
"Oh my God... House!"
"I didn't do anything!"
Chase looked in between both of the brunette's in confusion, waiting for a chance to jump in and ask just what they were talking about when he witnessed Wilson reaching over and smacking his bosses arm in a way that was more than playfulness but less than someone with intent to harm, making him think twice about even asking them what was going on. "You know what! I've seen that dark twinkle in your eyes before!"
"Twinkle?" House snorted derisively. "My eyes have no twinkle."
"Oh, yes, they do. Every time you see Stacy...or Cuddy's breasts..."
"Cuddy's fun bags practically ask to be ogled what with how she displays them. Hell, no one wears low-cut tops like that if they do not want anyone to take a peek at her-"
"That's beside the point!" Wilson cut in, stopping House before he could launch into a dirty, innuendo-laden tirade about the benefits of flaunting one's assets besides the conventional means. "You just gave that look to-"
"Oh, I did not!" House defended as he rose to his feet with the help of his cane. "Come, Wombat, we've got a bet to win!" Nodding, the blonde shrugged at Wilson before cleaning up the remainders of his meal and following his boss, who was limping away as quickly as he could manage. "Get your eyes checked, Jimmy! You're going to need them once we win this bet!"
"My eyes are just fine!" Wilson called back, grinning as they blonde followed after the Diagnostician; he really could see the duckling metaphor...if the mother duck was an cantankerous addict.
"...Are you going to tell me what that was about?" Chase asked as he continued to follow House.
"Nope, but I will clue you in on how to win that bet. Unless you want to dress like a woman for a day," the brunette teased salaciously, wiggling his eyebrows at the blonde.
"I'll pass."
"So you *want* to cross-dress on your second day of work? We can swing around and you can forfeit to Jimmy. He'll drop off your new outfit for tomorrow and all if we let him go shopping to-"
"Not a chance!" the young Intensivist interjected as he looked at House defiantly. "There's no way that I'm going to dress as a woman to work."
"Then listen up and listen good, Wombat, because Wilson's got the upper advantage here. He's actually held a decent conversation with the Battleaxe before. But, we have something that he doesn't."
"...We do?"
"Oh yeah," House replied as he grinned mischievously. "We're going to use that to our advantage and win this one."
Review for more.
Thanks for reviewing:
D: Aww, thanks. Here's more for you.
Pallada: His shirts were very amusing. That it is! Heh, it will be very fun to write.
verlan: Thank you for reading.
Amira Devant: Aww, thanks, but don't hurt nothing. Heh, that his is! Here you go.
Nina: Heh, that's because he's a thinly-veiled whore. Hm, with House influencing the choices, it might end up being a bit racier than that if he loses.
monica: Aww, thanks. Here's more for you. Sorry for the wait.
anon: Aww, thanks. Here's more for you!
Dragon Tamer103088: Thanks!
Xzavix: Aww, thanks! I think there are a few stories out there about the hiring of his favorite ducklings. This is just my random attempt at writing my own version. Ha. He is rarely responsible. And even when he is, he isn't.
