The challenge is still open, so come on down and play-As you can see, I’ll write almost anything.
Request: House/Wilson...with House in a bathtub.
Includes spoiler for "Merry Little Christmas"
Title: Bathing Beauty
Spoiler for "Merry Little Christmas" (Sorry UK.)
“House, are you OK? Cuddy says you haven’t been answering your phone.”
Wilson didn’t mention that he’d risked a ticket getting over there once Cuddy sounded the alarm. Christmas would never be far enough in the past for him stop worrying. This time House wasn’t lying on the floor, surrounded by vomit and bottles.
“I’m in here.“
The voice led to the bathroom, where Wilson expected House to show his usual indifference to performing bodily functions in front of an audience. He found his friend in the tub, wearing glasses, apparently engrossed in a copy of US. Droplets of sweat on his upper lip attested to the heat of the water.
Wilson felt beads breaking out on his own forehead.
“It’s rude to stare,” House said, without looking away from the gossip rag. “Poor Anna Nicole. ”
“You need to come back to the hospital. Your patient is spiking a fever…”
“And he’s starting seizing again. I know all about it. The Funky Bunch have it under control.”
“You answered their calls, but not Cuddy’s? Why?”
House finally tossed his magazine aside and reached for his cane, starting to stand as Wilson’s eyes widened.
“Because I knew she’d send you.”
#2. Former Soul Mate
Request: Cuddy Femslash
Contains Spoiler for “Needle In A Haystack"
Title: Wheels Of Fire
Pairing: Cuddy/Dr. Julie Whitmer
Dr. Whitmer, I am so sorry. I promise, we’ll do everything possible to accommodate…”
“You shouldn’t let him manipulate you like that,” Julie said, looking up sympathetically.
“He’s not…he’s in pain..it’s a long story.”
“You blame yourself and he uses it against you,” she shot back, pushing a button and rolling herself into Cuddy’s personal space, blocking her path to the door.
“Or maybe you just like cripples.”
Julie had eased her chair even closer, making Cuddy slightly nervous. She actually jumped when she felt a hand touch her knee. Julie’s grin was both taunting and teasing.
“Maybe I do.”
Request: sexy House/Wilson pre-infarction.
Spoiler for "Three Stories"
“I think she knows.”
“No way,” Wilson insisted, squeezing House’s hard, slippery cock even tighter and picking up the tempo, trying to finish House off and shut him up at the same time.
“You’re calling my girlfriend stupid,” he started only seconds after coming in Wilson’s hand.
Wilson cleaned himself up and left the supply closet, shaking his head. There was no way Stacy could possibly know and still accept him as their mutual friend.
“What the hell have you done?”
Stacy looked up him and Wilson realized he’d given everything away in a single moment.
Now she knew.
Sorry. I just couldn’t do it. This is what I came up with instead.
Includes spoiler for “Half-Wit”.
“Look, Hugh. I know you have reservations about this and I respect that, but right now we’re going to shoot this scene. I don’t care if you close your eyes and think of England, but there will be tongue, if we have to stay here all night.”
And so there was tongue.
Stephen, who had been watching the drama unfold, until a production assistant came to fetch him back to his own set, said he’d made the whole thing look so unappealing it would take a magic spell for House and Cameron to ever be a viable couple.
He could live with that, he thought, getting on the bike. Cameron could conspire with someone like Severus Snape from the Harry Potter books to cast a spell on House so that he wouldn’t realize how inappropriate and impossible the relationship was.
House would walk into the clinic and see this black-clad figure. He’d immediately pop a pill and ask what was wrong and Snape would pull out his wand…
By the time he got home, he was ready to ring up Alan and ask if he wanted to do a cameo appearance.
He could hardly wait to pitch it to David
Request: House/Cuddy/Wilson. Without sex.
Vague spoiler for "Who's Your Daddy"
Spoiler for "Who's Your Daddy"
“As the philosopher Jagger tells us…”
Why didn’t they listen to him?
Cuddy still thought she could find the perfect sperm donor, have an adorable moppet, run the hospital, and get him to do clinic duty.
Wilson believed if he just tried hard enough he could save all his patients, find a perfect woman and somehow not cheat on her, while being House’s conscience.
They’d make a cute, if deluded couple, he thought. Together, they might just get some of what they each needed and leave him alone.
That would never happen. House couldn’t always get what he wanted either.
Request: smutty, fluffy, but IC, Wilson/Cameron (with neither of them at all in love with House).
Wilson could hardly believe it was happening.
After all the painful misunderstandings, not to mention the baggage each needed to let go of, they were finally together.
Two years of hiding his affection from House’s mockery, Cuddy’s disapproval and the possibility she’d turn him down just from knowing his reputation. Instead she’d looked down, making him worry, and looked up smiling, making him want to grab her then and there.
Now they were together in his bed, her naked body straddling his and all the yearning ready to explode in a single moment.
He didn’t have to wait any more.
Miniscule spoiler for "Failure To Communicate"
If Harry had anything to do with this, Jools would see that he paid most dearly.
As if he weren’t busy trying to make sure the PM didn’t completely botch the hostage negotiation and monitoring the lunacy emanating from Washington DC, he found himself dealing with this unshaven Yank who’d been pulled from a BA flight to Istanbul when his name turned up on the no-fly list.
With a glance, Jools instantly decided that Dr. Gregory House was a lout, used to getting his way by brandishing his cane and bellowing. He revised the assessment to pathetic lout, as he watched Dr. House limp about the holding room, demanding the return of his confiscated medication and insisting that someone call “Stacy” to get him “bailed out,” although no arrest had been made.
Jools had already been advised through a text message that despite his disreputable appearance, Dr. House happened to be a renowned physician and the no-fly status was a typical bureaucratic cock-up on the American side.
The flight to Turkey was long gone and Dr. House would need to be accommodated overnight at the government’s expense.
Given the good news and his pot of pills, Dr. House seemed to relax considerably. “Thanks,” he said with a raspy voice and apparently genuine smile.
Their eyes met and Jools wondered if he might pay a call to Dr. House’s hotel room later on, to make sure he was being properly looked after.
There was something strangely attractive about the fellow.