The Dollhouse MD Saga, chapter Twenty One
By GirlX2
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: Do not own! TT
Summary: Wilson does something he's wanted to do for a year.

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"It didn't take this long for me to change back."

"I know Dr. House, but it varies from person to person." The government doctor said patiently. "Dr. Wilson is falling well within the normal range."

"There is nothing normal about any of this." House muttered, stalking back toward Wilson's room. Wilson had been stuck at three feet for two hours now--a vast improvement over the last year, but not anywhere close to normal.

House stopped as the glass walls of the room came in to view. Wilson wasn't inside. He stared for a moment, then went to Wilson's office. He didn't bother knocking on the door--it would be locked, and Wilson wasn't tall enough to reach the bolt. He instead went in via their shared balcony.

He paused before entering Wilson's office. The oncologist was sitting on his couch with a stack of books. He flipped mindlessly through one thick volume, a grin plastered on his face. He could barely hold the large book, but didn't seem to mind the weight.

House held back a smile. Wilson, further dwarfed by the oversized hospital gown and furniture, looked like a young child. His feet were bare, and dangled above the floor.

He slid the door open. "If you're looking for porn I already raided your stash."

"Yeah, I totally keep skin magazines in my office." Wilson looked up. There was delight in his eyes. "I can reach the shelf."

"I figured." House knocked the pile of book over and slid in next to Wilson. "You're still too little to get at the books on the top shelves."

Wilson shrugged. "The fact that I can get at any of them is good."

House wrapped his arm around Wilson's waist and pulled him to his side. Wilson sighed in mock annoyance and let the book drop onto the couch.

"You shouldn't harass Dr. Sawyer. If anything was going wrong he'd tell you."

"He works for the government. Rule one is to hush up any problems." House replied.

"I think that went out the window when those FBI agents in Jersey wound up miniature." Wilson wriggled out of his grip and started re-shelving the pile of books. House watched him, snickering as Wilson carried each book separately.

"You could help, you know." Wilson grunted, pushing a particularly large tome back onto the shelf.

"I could." House agreed. Wilson shook his head, but didn't say anything. After a few minutes he flopped back onto the cleared-off couch, spent.

House got up. "Ready to go back to your room, or is there some other ridiculous thing you want to do before you're back to normal?"

Wilson made no move to get up. "Just give me a minute."

"Don't have a minute. The ducklings are bound to show up anytime now with someone dripping blood from their eyes." House replied, looming over him.

Wilson thrashed as House suddenly wrapped his free arm around him, picked him up, and started out of the room. "Put me down!"

"I don't think so."

"This can't be good for your leg!"

"I'll manage."

"You're a jerk. Put me down!"

House ignored Wilson's protests as he walked back towards the room. Better to do this kind of thing when Wilson couldn't retaliate with a punch to the jaw. At least, not without getting on a chair first.

"As soon as this is over I'm kicking your ass, House."

Then again, he could be wrong.

House decided that indiscretion was the better part of valor--at least for the moment--and dropped Wilson onto a hallway bench.

"You're going to pay for that." Wilson growled, hopping off the bench. He continued to mutter under his breath as they walked back to his room. House made a slight effort to slow his long-legged stride as they walked; it was the first time in a year they'd been able to walk down the hallway together. No sense in leaving Jimmy behind.

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To be concluded...