This is just cute and is in serious need of any sort of plot. Maybe that's why they call it a drabble and not a story...?

Inspired by http:// www. deviantart. com/ deviation/ 45190844/

House tapped the cheapo disposable camera on the palm of his hand. "Yeah, see, here's the hard part. If I don't find someone to take a picture, no one will believe that we're both here together."

Wilson was half-sitting, half-leaning against the stone railing. "I don't care. We just need a picture of the Hippodrome. It's the last major sightseeing place in Rome that people back home will demand a picture of."

House whined, "But we need a picture of both of us…!"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Don't you dare pull that pouty face with me."

House pulled the pouty face.

Wilson tried his patented approach to House. "The faster this goes, the longer we can spend in the room…"

House weigh his options, and then said, "It's hot enough out here as it is, love of mine, don't try to boil anything else. We need at least one picture with both of us, it's only proper."

Damn. Wilson's patented approach had failed. "Just find someone quickly, then!"

House said, "I dunno. I can't speak the lingo." Contrary to his own words, he hobbled deviously away and found a rather attractive young woman. He said, "Che cosa è l'età legale per amore intorno qui?"

She blinked and answered blandly, "Non ci ne sono."

House followed this up, rapid fire, with, "Qualunque appena detti, siete voi eccedenza quello?"

The girl threw her drink on him and yelled something that sounded insulting.

House hobbled back. "That went well."

Wilson asked, "What did you say to her?"

"Something similar to, 'What is the legal age for love around here?' and then, 'Whatever you just said, are you over that?'"

Wilson sighed and shook his head. "I don't know why you're making an ordeal out of this…"

"I told you I don't speak Italian." He ruffled up Wilson's hair, grinning. "Besides, this is a honeymoon of sorts. This is like the test drive to see if you want to hang out with me anymore."

Wilson took the camera from House's hand and started waving it. "This isn't 'like' a honeymoon, House. And if anything was going to drive me off, you would've done it already as part of your little defense complex."

A kid that looked like he was roaming the world out of a backpack while waiting for college to kick in took the camera. "You need some help?"

Wilson said, "You see? I didn't get a drink all over me."

House countered with, "Yes, but I am no longer hot."

Wilson looked at the camera and posed, and then said offhandedly, "Debatable."

House grinned. "Hey, c'mere." He put an arm around Wilson's shoulders and they both smiled the awkward, other-people-will-be-looking-at-this smile of people now officially labeled 'in love' forever.

The kid took the picture and handed the camera back and said, "American pride," or something equally random before drifting off enthusiastically to have a fairytale meeting with a gorgeous woman with few inhibitions.

House watched him go. "You think he knows I'm British?"

Wilson just sighed. "House."

Innocently, House simpered, "Yes, Jimmy?"

"About that picture."

"What's wrong, sweetie pie?"

Wilson tried to glare it out of him. He failed. "You did bunny ears on me, didn't you."

"It's a show of affection, sugar muffin."

Wilson sighed. "We're going back."

House cheered, "Hooray for sex!"

A finger was waved under his nose. "No. No sex for you until you stop calling me all those weird nicknames."

"Fine then. Wilson it is."

"That's not…technically… my last name anymore…"

"Jimmy."

"Is that really going to stick?"

House shrugged and winked suggestively. "If I scream it loud enough, I'm sure I'll remember it. Things get lodged in there pretty good sometimes."

"Yeah, things like pills. How are you on those, anyway?"

House laughed. "I have well over half a bottle left."

"It's been six days. A bottle is supposed to last sixty."

House pulled the pouty face again.

Wilson just ignored him and seemed to drop the subject by mistake.

They passed a decorative plate stand, and House slowed down. "Hey, Jimmy-sugar-muffin. You want one of these?"

Wilson stopped to look. "Why would I?"

House fiddled with his cane. "A souvenir, maybe. Solid proof. Or something."

"You're cute when you're shy. I'll take this one."

As they kept on toward the hotel, Wilson looked at the brown and blue swirls. "There. Proof enough for you?"

"I dunno. Things like that break pretty easily."

Wilson laughed. "Sometimes a plate is just a plate, Dr. Freud."

I just had a few ideas for a honeymooning HouseWilson. Niftastic, right?