Yes, that was a MASH reference in the first chapter and you're right, September's Nobara, I should have capitalized it, thanks…it's fixed.

Thanks to everyone for all the very nice reviews! Wow, had no idea this crackfic would get such a response!

Chapter 7

"Dr. Cudd….Mrs. House?" A voice rang out in the crowd.

Cuddy turned towards the voice, feeling awkward at being called Mrs. House, "Dr. Chang, I'm so glad to see you're okay. Have you by any chance seen my…"

"Your husband?"

She had planned on saying 'colleagues' but, "Yes, Drs. House and Wilson?" Cuddy could only imagine what might have happened to them and tentatively waited for word; she tried not to allow her mind to wander, instead focusing on the task at hand.

Mrs. Chang shook her head, "Have you checked the medical area yet? They've set up triage somewhere towards the north end of the parking lot. I hope you find your husband and Dr. Wilson."

"Thank you, I'm heading there now. Take care."

Cuddy made her way through the hundreds of misplaced hotel guests and as she rounded the slight curve of the parking lot, she saw Wilson attending to a burn victim and she relaxed just a bit as she approached him.

"Wilson?"

He looked up and smiled genuinely, "Oh thank god, you okay?"

She nodded, "You?"

"Fine."

"Where's House?"

Wilson turned around and pointed towards House, who sat on a curb, cane across his lap, elbows on knees and head in his hands.

"Is he okay?"

Wilson looked at Cuddy, "He'd never admit it, but he's worried about you; otherwise, he's just fine."

Cuddy released the breath she didn't realize she was holding and approached her pseudo husband, "House?"

He looked up at her, and though he quickly checked his reaction to carefully hide any relief he may have felt, his slight sigh of relief did not go unnoticed by Cuddy, "Disappointed you can't cash in on my life insurance policy just yet?" he asked as he stood up.

She half smiled at his snark, reached her arms around his rib cage, clasping her hands behind him and resting her head on his shoulder she said, "Shut up and give me a hug."

"I don't hug," he said as he wrapped his arms around her.


Wilson finished giving instructions to the burn victim and then turned around to join Cuddy and House. He saw them embrace from a distance and smiling, he decided to leave them be.


"The remainder of the conference was canceled," Wilson sighed as he hung up the room phone, "And the hotel will cover all of our hotel expenses, including meals for the inconvenience. Apparently the microphone had faulty wiring."

"A whole day to play in Vegas! There's a Hooter's Hotel a few blocks up," House smiled furtively.

Wilson motioned towards Cuddy with his thumb, "You're married, remember?" House rolled his eyes.

Cuddy hung up her cell phone, "I got our flights bumped up to the first flight out tomorrow."

"But mooom, we wanna stay and play."

Wilson chuckled at House's whining, "What time does it leave?"

"Nine o'clock, which means we have to be at the airport no later than seven," she said, propping her feet up on his bed again.

House plunked a red lollipop into his mouth and garbled, "We're not taking an international flight."

"I don't care. Seven o'clock, no later. Give me one of your vicodin and then the two of you can go gamble while I relax in peace. This trip has been a nightmare."

Wilson chuckled a bit, "I still can't believe that all you grabbed on your way out of a burning building were your mock wedding photos."

Cuddy smiled sheepishly, "They wouldn't let me take anything and the pictures were right there, so I grabbed them. House, seriously, give me a vicodin."

"It's almost dinner time, you should eat," Wilson said snatching House's vicodin bottle from his hand and giving it to Cuddy.

"Hey, I've only got a few left. Cripple here."

Wilson shook his head, "You've got a second bottle in your bag; you always travel with triple the required dosage."

Cuddy took a pill and made a show of dry swallowing it, hoping to annoy House, "So how many people were injured?" He smirked.

Wilson took a seat at the small desk, "About fifteen. All of them with minor burns, nothing serious."

"I don't think we'll make this conference next year," Cuddy yawned.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Wilson asked as he and House headed towards the door.

"Fine. Go gamble and let me sleep."


Several hours later, House and Wilson returned to their hotel room and found Cuddy still asleep in House's bed.

"Hey, I could sleep in her room tonight if you want to sleep in here; that way we don't have to wake her." Wilson said, placing the vegetable soup they bought for Cuddy on the dresser. House nodded in agreement and they spent the next several minutes swapping suitcases and odds and ends.

"Are you sure you're okay with her tonight?"

"I am a doctor you know, and this happens to be our honeymoon."

Wilson laughed, "Yeah, your bride's hopped up on vicodin, the hotel nearly burnt down, and the both of you are itching for an annulment; bet that wasn't included in the brochure."


House quietly got settled in for the evening. He kept his boxers and tee shirt on and set his nearly empty vicodin bottle near her bedside before fishing out his spare bottle from the suitcase to keep at his bedside.

"Some honeymoon, huh?" An unexpected, quiet voice said.

House walked over to her bed and perched on the edge, reaching for her wrist to check her pulse.

"I'm just fine."

"Shhh."

She waited for him to run a few quick, basic tests, including rather roughly placing his palm on her forehead, "What, lips aren't as sensitive enough tonight?"

He gave her a cursory smirk, "There's soup on the dresser."

Her turn to smirk, "Did you spill it?"

"Funny."

"So, will I live?" She asked, once he was finished checking her vitals.

"Hard to say, with the way things are going this weekend."

Cuddy half snorted, "I'm not coming back to Vegas for a very long time, if ever."

"It's not Vegas' fault you fell on your ass."

"No, that would be yours."

House frowned guiltily, leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, "Night Mrs. House."

She smiled as he crawled into the other bed and shut the light, "Night Mr. House."


"Remind me why we're sitting in coach like sardines, instead of in first class?" House complained.

"First was full. We're lucky we got three seats together; stop complaining, at least you're not sitting in the middle for five hours." She retorted.

They sat towards the rear of the plane on the left side; Wilson at the window and House on the isle, sandwiching a rather squished Cuddy between them. The plane was next in line for take off and both Cuddy and Wilson wondered if they'd have to listen to House complain the entire flight home.

The plane's engines roared and soon they felt the seats' pull them in and the plane ran down the runway. The plane took flight and everyone felt the slight dip as they climbed in altitude. Cuddy emitted a small grunt and squeezed House's hand; her eyes shut tight. Wilson looked to House questioningly and House shrugged.

"Cuddy?" Wilson asked tentatively.

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

"A little motion sickness, it'll pass."

House held up the barf bag, "If you're going to spew, aim towards Wilson."


A little over an hour into the flight, the beverage cart wheeled by, "What can I get you to drink?" the flight attendant asked the trio.

"Lemonade," Wilson answered.

"Coffee, two sugars and she'll have a ginger ale," House said, not waking Cuddy, who was asleep on his shoulder.

Not long afterwards, the food cart came along, "We have scrambled eggs and bacon or a bagel and cream cheese, what would you like?"

Wilson ordered the eggs, as did House and again House ordered for Cuddy, choosing the bagel. He then nudged her awake, "Hey, you should eat."

"Not hungry, my stomach's funny."

"You didn't eat last night."

"I was a little stressed; I'll eat when I get home."

Wilson shook his head and took the fruit cup off of Cuddy's plate. House took the bagel.


"Don't be late tomorrow," Cuddy said as the trio stood in line for a cab.

"Slave driver."

"Seriously, House."

Wilson stood facing the two, unable to keep from smiling.

"What are you smiling about?" House asked.

"Just wondering which member of the staff will ask you if you really got married first. I'm betting on Cameron."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "Oh god."

House now sported a broad grin too, "Don't forget our little arrangement Mrs. House, take that ring off and no clinic duty for me, and no diagnostics lecture for you."

"I'm definitely never going to Vegas again."