Title:
Title: Housekeeping
Summary: House doesn't want anything for his birthday, but does Wilson listen? Nope, so he gets him an unbearable gift he knows is going to piss House off. Rated 'T' for language. Sorry for the bad and weird title…
Disclaimer: I do not own House MD or any of its characters. The ones you don't recognize belong to me. This is purely fictional and there's no need to sue, as I am not making a profit out of this.
A/N: All my readers' different kinds of awesome make me smile. Hope you're not disappointed! Happy reading:) review if you feel like it
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House had said the previous night that I shouldn't bother waking up at an unholy hour that morning. Nothing I could say or do wouldn't change his mind him sleeping till way past ten AM and going to work way past one PM, but I woke up at four and couldn't sleep anymore(House was snoring, there, I said it), so I tucked away my covers, and put on my mp3 player for some soothing music. Just when my head lolled to down at my chest four hours later and I finally dipped over the edge of twilight zone, the music was wrenched from my ears.
I hastily looked up to find House standing over me, holding my earphones, snickering at my startled look.
"Ah," I said, trying very hard not to look in his eyes (to be frank, they scared me to bits; it seemed as if they were staring right into my thoughts). "A good morning to you..."
He snorted. "A morning is never good. You ought to remember that kid…" he slumped down next to me and flipped on the TV. The fact that I was still in my jammies made me a bit nervous (weren't exactly my best pair if you get me; a bit see-through here and there out of old age and… usage.)
"Why is a morning never good?" I asked, trying to find an excuse to go to the bathroom and clean up the mess I currently was.
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, because it's so fantastic and brilliant," he replied, a sarcastic tilt to his voice. Then he turned serious again. "Because it's simply a morning. That's why. Now, run along, make me pancakes."
"You're the boss," I muttered, wandering off to do what he had told me. I tried to forget last night, when he nearly had forced me to clean the toilet with my toothbrush, hitting me on my shin with his cane when I refused. I quickly found out that hiding, or simply going out of the room while he was getting drunker by the minute, was the best way to deal with him anyways.
About two hours later, when we were both (cough, only me, cough) properly dressed and House had had enough of complaining about my pancakes yet again, we were ready to go to this clinic of his.
"One more thing, though…" He turned to me before locking the door behind us, dangling the dog collar right in front of my eyes. "Do I need to say anything more?"
I sighed and grabbed the bloody thing, putting it on. "There," I said, hoping nobody was looking at the situation. "Happy?"
House grinned, and limped down the stairs. "Well, come on now!"
I breathed heavily in, knowing that I was going to hate every bit of the day.
After a very sickening ride on his bike (having to wrap my arms around him not to fall off was a bit awkward as well), we finally stopped at the godforsaken clinic.
Walking through the lobby was a bit of a trial; receiving stars from patients and doctors made my insides twitch. Once in the elevator (thank god no one besides me or the weird and slightly creepy person I called my boss were in there!), House turned to me.
"Listen, I want you to be as disgusting and sarcastic as you can to my... err, underlings." He grinned. "A servant should act like his or her master, don't you think?"
"No," I simply said, not knowing if I this day could get any worse.
"Nobody asked for your opinion. That's another thing; don't speak unless spoken to. Now, here we are."
The elevator stopped at the third floor, and House stepped out. I walked behind him, perfectly aware of my resemblance to a dog tailing her owner. I spotted Dr. Wilson when House stopped at a door. I mimicked "Help me, for the love of god, or else I'll die" when I caught his gaze. He looked puzzled and when he finally decided it was best to go check the situation out (the man had a really slow mind for an oncologist, I guess), House's head popped out from the entrance to the room, looked from Wilson to me, then rolled his eyes and dragged me inside.
I found myself standing in what couldn't possibly be anything else than his office. As his apartment, it was gloomily decorated, diverse selections of books and magazines placed right about everywhere. What caught my attention, though, was a huge red and grey tennis ball. House, sitting in his chair behind the desk, saw me staring at it and grinned. I shrugged thinking about the number of people that had suffered severe head injuries as a result of House throwing it at them.
I dumped down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Don't tell me, I'll be cleaning this as well?"
He twirled his cane between two of his fingers. "Oh, hadn't thought of that, but since you said it, I'll say yes."
I groaned. Although I shouldn't complain about cleaning (after all, that's what a maid is all about), but having cleaned the lot of House's stuff, I knew that the most of it was either very dirty or much neglected.
The sound of a door being opened and closed in the other room made House stand up. "Oh great, I bet their back from their little trip to Cuddy, telling her that I'm nowhere to be found. Well, I'll go take a look at today's patient…"
I rose to follow him, but when I reached the door to the other room; he slammed it in my face, obviously not wanting me to follow him.
Great, I thought, putting my hands on my hip, should I just wait for him to come back… or… no, strolling around the hospital is way more fun!
I guess I had adopted some of House's mischievousness.
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A/N: Phew, here you go! And no, I'm not planning on turning her in to House, so don't be afraid that it'll happen!
