A/N: Sorry for the long wait… writer's block. I knew what I wanted to write, but couldn't seem to get it out on paper in the proper way. Plus, I kinda got obsessed with Dexter and watched the whole first season. It's hard to go from a sympathetic serial killer to Dr. Feelbad, believe it or not! LOL! Hope you enjoy this chapter, hope it was worth the wait. On to the fic..
FLIP, FLOP
Chapter Two
The two men spent the remainder of the morning searching the internet for rocks with curses that looked identical to the one that had switched them. House was on his main computer, while Wilson used a laptop. They were in House's office. They had somehow made it there from the Oncology Department. House had done fine on his new and perfect legs, but Wilson was awkward and clumsy with the cane, not at all used to having only one working leg. He felt a twinge of sympathy for House - he had already lived with that for several years. He still felt more sorry for himself though, because through the switch, House had received the better part of the deal.
Looking for stones and rocks on the internet sounded easy, but House and Wilson were having difficulties with their keyboards. House was used to his normally large hands and long fingers, so with Wilson's much smaller hands, he kept missing keys. And Wilson, now with House's large hands , kept hitting keys twice. It was very frustrating, feeling like they no longer had control of their bodies. But they eventually got the hang of it.
House actually liked Wilson's hands. He'd never noticed them before, but now that they were his, he studied them. Unlike the usual rough, broken-in, nail-bitten hands he was used to, Wilson's were soft, smoothwith nails obviously manicured by a professional.
Such a girl, thought House, smirking to himself. House already knew that Wilson used a blow-dryer every morning, along with several hair products and had a ridiculously long and ritual face-washing routine. Now he could add manicures to his friend's grooming regimen. He decided right then and there that he wasn't going to adopt any of Wilson's strange habits. He would carry-on as though he were still himself - let his hair air-dry, not use any product, wash his face with soap and water and he could trim his own nails if he had to. He wasn't about to fork-out money to an esthetician just so Wilson's hands would look pretty. Right now, he only wanted to fork-out money to people on Ebay selling rocks.
But they were having no luck. Wilson was tired from looking at rocks and his eyes were getting sore from staring at the computer screen. Plus, all the rocks were starting to look the same now and he practically forgot what the original looked like.
It wasn't long before they both needed to use the washroom, not even realizing what this everyday bodily function would entail, being that they were switched. They had practically forgotten, until they caught their reflections in the restroom mirror. They looked at one another, their faces filled with worry over the notion of what they had to do. The fact that they would be touching - more so holding - the most intimate part of the other's anatomy, completely creeped them out.
"How exactly are we supposed to do this?" Wilson finally broke the thick silence that had settled in the restroom.
House looked exasperated.
"You unzip, whip it out, go, give it a shake, flush, tuck it back in and zip up." he explained, smirking.
"That's not what I meant," said Wilson, through clenched teeth. He didn't know how his friend could suddenly make so light of the disturbing situation at hand.
"Well, I'm not going to stand here all day," said House, moving toward the urinal and positioning himself. "I gotta go."
Wilson heard the unzipping of his pants, then the trickling sound of liquid. He bit back the urge to gag. He felt sick at the fact that his best friend was standing there, nonchalant as could be, touching what once belonged to him. There was something absolutely grotesque about the whole thing.
House flushed then washed his hands at the sink. Wilson was still standing there, stiffly, his fists clenched at his sides. House looked at him, his hands on his hips.
"You gonna stand there with your thumb up your butt or are you gonna do what you need to?" House demanded, coolly.
"Thumb up my butt sounds better." said Wilson.
House moved closer to him.
"Look, what is the problem, Wilson?" he emphasized. "I did it and I'm fine. Yea, it was weird, but-"
"It's creepy okay?" Wilson snapped. "It's just plain creepy. I can't do it." He said it so stubbornly, that House almost thought he was serious. Surely Wilson knew that he couldn't resist the urge forever.
"How could you do it?" Wilson suddenly asked and House was certain he heard a suppressed sob. "How could you touch me like that?"
House rolled his eyes. Wilson was always overanalyzing the simplest things. Sometimes House wondered why his friend wasn't suicidal with the way he deep- thought everything.
"I didn't touch you," House told him, calmly. "Don't be irrational."
"Yes you did," said Wilson in a small voice. "And I'm not being irrational."
"Did you feel it?" House challenged.
Wilson looked at House, quizzically. "That's not -"
"Wilson, I'm not going to hold it for you," House said, with a note of warning in his voice. "Just go already. When I get my body back, I expect it to be in the same condition I left it in." With that, he left the restroom without so much as a glance back at Wilson, who was still standing in the middle of the room, now really needing to go. He knew House was right. He couldn't very well hold it forever and even if he tried, he could cause kidney damage or poison the body that wasn't even his. And who knew how long they'd be stuck like this?
Wilson stood in front of the urinal and forced himself not to look down. But he couldn't help but notice just by touch, that House was a fair bit bigger than him. Wilson had always thought that he was well-endowed, but in comparison to House, he was more on the average side. Wilson cringed and silently scolded himself for letting thoughts like that enter his mind. He washed up and limped back to House's office, almost tripping several times on his way there. This earned him several strange looks from the doctors and nurses. Gregory House wasn't usually so clumsy with his cane.
By the time Cuddy came by to check up on her switched employees again, House had found three identical rocks and ordered them. Unfortunately, it would be a few weeks before they would arrive, being that they were coming straight from Egypt and South America.
"Are you sure about those?" Cuddy asked, when House told her the good news, that he had not found one identical rock, but three. "Did it say the rocks were cursed?"
"Of course not," House answered. "People trying to sell rocks are not going to add a warning about a possible curse. "Besides," he added, "two of them are apparently from an ancient pyramid or tomb in Central Egypt. That alone should clue some people in."
"I hope you're right, House." she said. Even she was hopeful. "In the meantime, I've told the team. They're looking into it."
"I don't think there is any medical reason or solution to what's happened to us," said Wilson. "It's like you said, Lisa. This is something out of a science fiction movie."
"There's nothing scientific about it," said House as he and Cuddy nodded in agreement with Wilson. "It's weird, that's what it is. They won't be able to do a thing."
"They're just worried about you two, that's all," said Cuddy and she felt the same way, the look in her eyes told them that. "They feel obligated to do anything they can. Even if there's nothing they can do, they're still going to try."
House started tossing his ball against the wall and catching it. The only thing Wilson could think about was the fact that it would only be a matter of time before the team would come around to see them. They had to be bursting with curiosity by now.
"I hate to tell you this, but their brown nosing isn't going to help us." House declared, with no expression.
Cuddy rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Oh, I almost forgot," She reached into her dress coat pocket and plopped a box of Tylenol 3 in front of Wilson. "For your leg." She smiled.
Wilson sighed in relief. It was perfect timing because the Vicodin was wearing off and the pain was starting again. He was beginning to get a better understanding of what his friend had to deal with every day. It hadn't even been a full day for Wilson yet.
When Cuddy left, House leaned over and said to Wilson, "That'll never work."
"Just because it's not your drug of choice doesn't mean it won't work or be as effective," Wilson told him, taking one of the pills with a glass of water that was next to him.
"Wait a little while," said House. "You'll see."
Wilson did not want to believe that the only thing that would work for the infarction was Vicodin. Even if the Tylenol didn't completely take away all the pain, at least it would make it more manageable.
"Well, what do you say we head down to the cafeteria and grab some lunch?" House suggested, reaching into his back pocketand pulling out Wilson's wallet. "Looks like I'm buying this time!"
Wilson laughed and followed House out of the office and to the hospital cafeteria. He had a hard time keeping up, but he was starting to get used to the cane. With perfectly working legs, House couldn't help but walk quickly and way ahead of Wilson.
"House, slow down," Wilson pleaded. "We usually walk into the cafeteria together."
"You should speed up," House retorted and Wilson thought that was rather cruel of him to say. He always walked next to House, matching his pace. But he should've known not to expect House to show him the same courtesy.
Once they were in the food line, Wilson looked at all the food choices and none of it looked very appetizing. Ever since the whole ordeal, he had been feeling queasy. And the incident in the men's restroom had only made things worse. He finally decided on a bowl of jello minus the whipped cream topping, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a few soda crackers. House also had soup, but instead of jello, chose a large piece of chocolate pinwheel cake. Wilson guessed that House probably wasn't feeling all that great either, but not bad enough that he couldn't have a piece of cake.
"I hate green jello," House told Wilson. "Otherwise I would have had some, too."
Once they were seated, they began to eat their soup. But after the first spoonful, Wilson wrinkled his nose in disgust. It didn't taste the way it usually did. There was something strange about it. He crushed his crackers into it and tried it that way. It still tasted strange. He looked up and noticed House pushing his bowl of soup away.
"Does the soup taste funny to you, too?" Wilson asked.
"Yes," replied House. "Ever since they hired that new cook, this place has been going for a shit. I know it's hospital food, but come on! I wouldn't feed this to a garbage disposal."
Wilson had to agree. Pushing his soup away as well, he moved onto the jello as House poked his fork into his pinwheel cake and took a bite. A moment later, they were spitting their dessert into their napkins.
"No wonder you hate green jello!" Wilson exclaimed. "That's the nastiest thing I've ever tasted. I'd rather go back to the soup. House?"
House was scratching his chin, deep in thought. Wilson wondered why he suddenly hated green jello. It had never bothered him before.
"I have a theory," said House, lowering his voice. "Let's trade." Wilson handed House his jello, while House handed over his cake. "Go ahead, try it."
Wilson didn't think his nausea would take very kindly to cake and he hated pinwheel cake on top of that, but he took a bite anyway. To his surprise, it was delicious!
"Good, isn't it?" House said, with an all-knowing grin.
"Yes, but I hate this stuff!" Wilson protested, even though he continued to eat it while House finished off the jello.
"And I hate green jello," House added. "But let's not forget our basic problem, Wilson."
Of course, thought Wilson. Because they were switched, everything tasted differently. It made sense.
"Then I guess the soup is fine," Wilson decided, beginning to eat it again. "I'm just tasting it the way you normally would."
House nodded and also started on his soup again. Gradually, they got used to the different tastes that tingled their new taste buds. Wilson wondered if he'd ever eat green jello again.
After lunch, House and Wilson decided to see if the team had come up with any interesting theories. They each got a coffee to go from the cafeteria and because they both took their coffee the same way, there wasn't much of a taste difference. The cafeteria's coffee tasted like crap, anyway.
When they stepped into the familiar Diagnostics Room, Cameron, Chase and Foreman were all there, flipping through files and talking about the body swap issue. House cleared his throat loudly to announce their presence. Nobody said anything, they just sat there, their mouths hanging open.
"What is this, a room full of codfish?" House quipped and everyone's jaw dropped even more. Even though they knew what had happened, they could barely grasp the concept of Dr. Wilson's voice saying such a House-like comment.
"It's… it's true then," said Cameron, unable to say much of anything else.
"Yes, it's true." Wilson nodded as he took a seat at the table, taking the pressure off of the cane and leg. They all stared at Wilson as if they had never seen him before. Or rather, in this case, had never seen House before.
"What's is like?" Cameron inquired carefully. "to be someone else?" She looked over at Chase and Foreman, suddenly wondering what it would be like to be one of them.
"Well, it's-"
"It's amazing!" House exclaimed, cutting Wilson off. "Look at these perfect, working legs!" He hopped around, stood on one foot and did some jumping jacks. Then he ran a hand through the thick hair now on his head. "And look at this great head of hair. I haven't had this much hair in a dog's age! I'm Jimmy Wilson, a fricken' Spring Chicken!"
"I'm glad you're enjoying me so much." Wilson spat at him, bitterly.
The others were amused at House's antics. They seemed to be ignoring Wilson, which was typical. Especially for Chase who was quite possibly the worst brown noser Wilson had ever met. He was slightly annoyed that nobody seemed to care that he was House - bad leg and all.
Meanwhile, House was enjoying being the center of attention. He grabbed Cameron's compact mirror that was laying on the table and observed his new face in it. He brushed his fingers across the thick brows that he had always teased Wilson about.
"I think I ought to do something about these brows, though." said House, thoughtfully scratching his chin. "I mean -"
"Leave. The brows. Alone." Wilson warned, making House's voice sound darker than usual.
"Lighten-up, Wilson," said House. "There are some advantages to this, you know."
"For you, maybe," Wilson responded. "I'm the one who got the shitty part of the deal. What possible advantage could there be to becoming you?" Wilson knew it sounded cold and cruel, but House didn't seem to care. At least, not on the outside. Even if he didn't show it, Wilson hoped he had hurt House's feelings in some way, because this whole switch just wasn't fair.
"So… you completely switched?" Foreman finally said something. "I mean, how much are you like each other?"
"In every way, down to the last toenail," House told him. "The only things that remain mine are my thoughts and winning personality. Other than that, I'm Jimmy Wilson, the boy-wonder oncologist. The panty-peeler. The-"
"We get it, House." Foreman said. Nobody had ever seen House in this good a mood before. Wilson scowled even harder.
"And I get to be the dysfunctional Greg House," Wilson shouted, angrily. He wasn't about to shower House with compliments, either.
"Oh, Dr. Wilson, your leg!" Cameron suddenly exclaimed , putting a hand over her mouth in shock . All eyes were now on Wilson.
Attention at last, thought Wilson, throwing a triumphant look at House, who now looked annoyed that he was no longer the main event.
"How are you feeling?" Cameron asked. "Does it hurt?"
Wilson decided that he was going to milk this for all it was worth, since he was feeling incredibly sorry for himself. He rubbed his right leg and winced for effect, even though it was fine at the moment.
"You're not taking… Vicodin, are you?" Chase questioned, looking worried.
"No, Cuddy set me up with… well, with something else." Wilson answered, deciding not to elaborate. They didn't need to know that it was Tylenol and that it was actually working. Even though Wilson disliked House at the moment, he didn't see any benefit in him being harassed in the future about kicking the Vicodin because "Dr. Wilson said the Tylenol worked".
"It really hurts," said Wilson, pouting and giving them puppy-dog eyes, wondering how it looked on House's face.
"Dr. Wilson, I am so sorry," Cameron said, sympathetically, putting her hand gently on his arm.
"Yea, sucks to be you." Chase added.
"You mean sucks to be House." Foreman corrected, giving Wilson a small smile. Wilson smiled back, appreciatively. A glance over at House revealed to Wilson a horrible, angry expression, one that Wilson did not know his face could wear.
"For God's sake, it hasn't even been a day!" House yelled at them. "I've been in pain for years and I don't recall any of you giving a rat's ass!" His voice was filled with contempt, another sound so unlike Wilson. "Now that it's Wilson, it's like the bloody apocalypse!"
"You should have a little more compassion!" Cameron retorted. "Dr. Wilson is not used to this."
"We do care about you, House." Chase told him, sincerely.
House did not look convinced. They all knew that the more they showed that they cared about House, the more he'd push them away. Wilson, on the other hand, lapped it up. He liked how Cameron had a hand on his arm and was looking at him with such genuine concern in her eyes. He couldn't help feeling self-righteous at the fact that she was looking at him the same way she used to look at House. But then, she was still technically looking at House, only with Wilson inside. Was it really all that different, then?
House was glaring at Cameron, obviously jealous at the attention she was giving Wilson; attention that should've belonged to him a long time ago.
"That's it, I've had it with this!" House threw up his arms in defeat. "Did you find anything, anything at all that can undo this? Because there is no way I'm waiting three weeks for those stupid rocks. I want out… now!"
"I thought you liked being me." Wilson remarked.
"Wilson, just shut up for once, alright?" House snapped. "It's not about me, it's about you and your damn whining. I can't take it anymore. You're not the first person in the world to have a bum leg, you know!" He turned to Chase and Foreman. "What have you found out?" he demanded, impatiently.
Even though they knew it was House, Chase and Foreman still found it strange to hear the commanding and impatient tone of Wilson's normally mellow and likable voice. It was not suitable at all.
"Well, you may not have to wait for the rocks," Chase said. "It's all up to you, according to our findings."
Wilson and House both leaned forward in anticipation. Could they switch back at any time?
To be continued…
A/N: I'll try not to make you wait quite so long for the next chapter. No promises, though. What did you think of the whole bathroom scene? Too much? I kinda thought it was funny, but I'm not so sure. I've read it so many times, I start to not like it anymore. What do you think?