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Fic Challenge!

Fic challenge for everyone based on episode 7-12 of House, "You Must Remember This."

House gave Wilson ten days to "get back into it." What happens when the ten days are up, if Wilson doesn't?

And... go!

ETA: Think essay question, not fill-in-the-blank. Please?

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Comments

( 50 comments — Leave a comment )
hannahrorlove
Feb. 15th, 2011 04:15 am (UTC)
The last resort from Roger Dodger: brothel.
deelaundry
Feb. 15th, 2011 04:22 am (UTC)
House drags him there and makes him get laid... and then what?
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black_cigarette
Feb. 15th, 2011 04:19 am (UTC)
Well, first of all, Wilson wouldn't be able to prove he did and House couldn't prove Wilson didn't, so. Stalemate.

deelaundry
Feb. 15th, 2011 04:26 am (UTC)
"Stalemate" is not a fic! It could be a fic summary, but it is not, in and of the single word itself, a fic. *hmph*

At the time House gave Wilson the challenge, what did Wilson and House imagine the consequences would be of not meeting it? And why does House have the authority to compel Wilson to "get back into it" anyway?
(no subject) - black_cigarette - Feb. 15th, 2011 05:01 am (UTC) - Expand
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srsly_yes
Feb. 15th, 2011 04:22 am (UTC)
lol. I was mulling over what might happen during the ten day period.

eta: If I were a racehorse, I'd be running in the wrong direction. Don't mind me.

Edited at 2011-02-15 04:24 am (UTC)
deelaundry
Feb. 15th, 2011 04:26 am (UTC)
Mull and then write! My muse has decamped for the ether, so I am hoping to inspire everyone else's muses. :D
taiga13
Feb. 15th, 2011 04:23 am (UTC)
House sets him up with Masters. They keep implying that she's a virgin so House would think he's solving TWO problems.
deelaundry
Feb. 15th, 2011 04:29 am (UTC)
But she also needs someone to take care of her -- translate "messy" people-stuff -- so I don't think he'd want Wilson to get caught in that. Would take too much time away from Wilson taking care of House.

But I would love it if you'd write a Masters/Wilson fic!
nightdog_barks
Feb. 15th, 2011 05:51 am (UTC)
Wilson stares at the phone. It stares back at him.

Go ahead, it seems to say. Pick me up. You know you want to.

"No, I don't," Wilson says, and then looks around quickly, sure that someone's overheard him talking to an inanimate object on his desk.

Damn House. If it hadn't been for him, Wilson wouldn't be in this stupid predicament. If Wilson hadn't said anything, though, hadn't staked House to a precise time limit, House would have been hounding him every day, would have been breaking into his apartment (again), bugging his phone, signing him up for JDate, slipping porn into his interoffice mail.

Wilson sighs. It's come down to this, the ninth day, and he's still not ready. At this rate, he doesn't know if he ever will be ready, but it's time to fight fire with fire, and if he has to bring in a ringer, that's what he'll do. Anything to get House off his back.

He picks up the phone, punches in a number.

"Hello?" Wilson says. "Robin?"



~ fin



Robin was the beautiful call girl in "Airborne."
blackmare
Feb. 15th, 2011 06:03 am (UTC)
Well.

I think you just won this, bb. *G*

Gonna post it up tomorrow?
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daisylily
Feb. 15th, 2011 07:23 pm (UTC)
LOLOLOL

For the first time this season, I will actually be watching this episode again - I really enjoyed it, and for the very first time House and Cuddy seemed to be 'right' (rather than thoroughly OOC).

And Wilson + cat + House = best thing ever XD
deelaundry
Feb. 16th, 2011 03:40 pm (UTC)
I was amazed Wilson would let the cat be on the kitchen counter, but other than that think Wilson + cat + House was the most amazing thing ever. Their faces when the cat ate the mouse! I laughed, oh, you poor dorks, what did you think Sara would do?

Did you notice right at the beginning there was a scene that ended with House making a strange sound? The sound was just like one my cat makes, hee hee hee.
hibernia1
Feb. 15th, 2011 07:54 pm (UTC)
He dies.
deelaundry
Feb. 16th, 2011 03:41 pm (UTC)
NOT MY WILSON! :D :D :D

I thought of you during this ep when House crosses a rather large room confidently with no cane and without holding onto anything. SIGH. They have decided that Vague Happiness + No Vicodin = Cure for Pain.
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mer_duff
Feb. 15th, 2011 10:44 pm (UTC)
I love Sarah - House sucks for trying to get rid of her.

I don't have anything for the challenge (yet, I hope), but I found this in something I tried to write last month:

---

He missed Sam. He missed waking up with their bodies twined together, the warmth and comfort of holding another person. He missed the sound of her laughter, or just the sound of her breathing as they read quietly together. He even missed finding the milk in the fridge door, or the dishwasher haphazardly loaded, because a little chaos was better than an empty home. He'd made the mistake of saying as much to House a few days before Cuddy's dinner party.

"If all you're looking for is a warm body to cuddle and a little mess in your life, you may as well just get a dog," House had replied. "Or better yet, a cat that alternates between self-absorbed affection and hostile indifference. Seems to be what you're attracted to."

In retrospect, he really should have expected the drugging. House's tolerance for misery in other people had never been high, unless he was the one to cause it.

---

(House has only himself to blame...)
deelaundry
Feb. 16th, 2011 03:45 pm (UTC)
self-absorbed affection and hostile indifference - Oh my goodness if that hasn't been House this entire season. : (

ixquic pointed out that House caused a huge stir last season about how Sam was going to break Wilson's heart, and then when she did, House's response was annoyance that Wilson felt bad about it. Unfortunately, that's very in-character for House, but c'mon.
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cuddyclothes
Feb. 15th, 2011 11:42 pm (UTC)
NINE DAYS LATER
“So,” House said over lunch in the cafeteria. “Today is day Nine. How is the pussy? And I don’t mean Sarah.” He gave Wilson an evil look, ready to pounce.

“Sarah is fine, thanks.”

Instead of the glare House expected, Wilson was smiling.

“So, have you made your goal? You’ve only got one more day.”

“It’s your goal, not mine, House.” Wilson’s smile grew wider. “Remember when you demanded I buy one piece of furniture for the condo, and I bought the organ?”

“Yeah. I hardly got to use the organ, and no, that’s not a metaphor. Although it could be if you got me drunk enough.”

Wilson leaned back, watching House eat half of his tuna fish sandwich. “Well, I bought the organ. Not for me. For you. Because it made me happy.

“Before everything went to shit,” House said with his mouth full. He didn’t like Wilson’s tone at all. It didn’t have the right groveling sound.

“This time, you demanded I get laid in ten days. I’ve usually done—no, I’ve always done-- what you wanted.” Wilson spread his arms, laying his hands on either side of the formica table. “Sorry, House, but I’m forfeiting the challenge. You win.”

House felt both astonished and betrayed. “You can’t forfeit! We had an agreement!”

“Since when have you honored an agreement?” Wilson stared him in the eyes. “You moved out when I asked you to move out. And by that I mean you took your stuff and left that same day like a spoiled teenager. I tried to work things out, but you’re so demanding there was no way I could have both you and Sam under the same roof. Since you hooked up with Cuddy, you’ve pushed me away. You mocked me for being upset about the breakup with Sam. You mocked me for having a cat. You’ve only spent time with me to bitch about your ‘great love.’”

“Wilson—“

“And now you want to be the puppet-master of my sex life.”

Still not breaking eye contact, Wilson stood up, tossing his paper napkin on the table. “Screw you, House. You know ‘moving on’ is only a euphemism for cowardice.”

Wilson stalked out of the cafeteria, leaving House alone with the remaining half of the sandwich.
blackmare
Feb. 16th, 2011 04:07 am (UTC)
Re: NINE DAYS LATER
I like this a lot! The only thing I'm unsure of is the line about "moving on" being a euphemism for cowardice. I can't quite understand what Wilson means -- that he'd be a coward to do what House wanted? Or that House was a coward somehow for fleeing to Cuddy? Or ... I'm just not sure.

And I like this enough to really want to know.
Re: NINE DAYS LATER - cuddyclothes - Feb. 16th, 2011 04:14 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: NINE DAYS LATER - blackmare - Feb. 16th, 2011 04:28 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: NINE DAYS LATER - cuddyclothes - Feb. 16th, 2011 05:13 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: NINE DAYS LATER - deelaundry - Feb. 16th, 2011 03:48 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: NINE DAYS LATER - cuddyclothes - Feb. 16th, 2011 04:43 pm (UTC) - Expand
damigella_314
Feb. 19th, 2011 10:46 pm (UTC)
I'm not sure I got this right but I tried, inspired by black_cigarette's "Wilson wouldn't be able to prove he did". I like proving things.
___________
"It's nine days. How is it going?"
"Not ten yet. Also, we haven't made any concrete bet."
"You mean it? Ok. So, if you don't, you get rid of the cat. Find some shelter or whatever, just get rid of it."
"Fine. And if I do, you move back in with me for a week."
"What? With the cat?"
"If I can prove it, remember."
"It's a bet."
"See you tomorrow at 9 at my place."
__________
"Here's your proof. Come back tomorrow evening, this time, to admit defeat. With your suitcase. I'll order Chinese."
House opens carefully the refrigerated box, peers inside, and closes it.
"You want me to analyze... those?"
Wilson looks totally innocent, while Sara purrs satisfied in his arms.
"Inside and outside. Here, throw that into the mix." He pulls out a cotton swab, slides it deeply into his own mouth, puts it into a plastic bag, closes it, and adds everything to the refrigerated box. "Goodnight, House."
____________________
"Hi! Nice to see you have brought your stuff. If you forgot your hair drier I can lend you mine."
"One condom with female saliva outside, your sperm inside. Another with vaginal secretions outside, your sperm inside. Sperm identified as yours via the cotton swab. Both female samples come from the same woman. Where's the cat anyway?"
"My neighbor had left her to her grandson. He had a job trip lined up so he left the cat with me. He got her now, but I promised to cat-sit again in the future if need arises." Wilson smiles happily and sits down on the couch. "I've TiVo'd your favorite Soaps. You neglected them, too."
________________
A week later House and Wilson are chatting on their common balcony after lunch.
"It was great having you living with me again! Worth the effort to win the bet."
"It was a win-win-win for me; you got laid, the cat's gone, and I spent time with you. I had missed you." House pauses and thinks.
"Maybe I could have a similar bet with Cuddy and have her get rid of Rachel instead of the cat."
"What if she wins?"
"Come on, be serious. She's a full time hospital administrator, the mother of a toddler and has an insatiable lover. When would she have time to win such a bet?"
"Have you tried putting a cotton swab in her mouth?"
House's eyes widen. He limps top speed out of the balcony and out of his office.
__________________
"You traitor! Snake! How could you do that?"
"Don't go all Othello on me. I did what you told me to do."
House slowly slides down to the floor, his right leg straight in front of him, his face in his hands. He's crying.
"I'm sorry. Stop that. Joke is over."
"You sleep with my girlfriend and that's all you can say?"
"I didn't sleep with your girlfriend. I asked a med school friend who does research on peri-menopause to collect samples and questionnaires at PPTH. She then reported Cuddy's samples as lost and handed them to me."
Wilson hands him a glass of liquor, which House gulps down.
"I'll get back into it when _I_ feel like it. I can't believe you're such an idiot."
House remains on the floor, now crying for a different reason.
flywoman
Feb. 20th, 2011 05:38 am (UTC)
Ha! I love Devious!Wilson.
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flywoman
Feb. 20th, 2011 05:35 am (UTC)
Part I:

Nine days after issuing his challenge, House saunters into my office, and I hold up a hand without looking up from the file I’m charting. “One more pussy joke and you can buy your own damned lunch.”

“Who, me?” he asks, his tone all innocence. “Actually, I was just going to say that the new nurse in Pedes has that lost puppy-dog look. Blond, double-D, and a sitting duck, so. Load your weapon.”

At this, I put my pen down and rub my eyes. “House, I can find my own dates, just… butt out.”

“Jimmy,” House clucked. “Just trying to lend a hand, here. The clock’s a-ticking.”

I finally look up, and we lock gazes, unblinking. There’s something else going on here, something that’s been bothering me for days. Now that House is right here sitting smugly in front of me, I suddenly know what it is.

“Since when,” I grind out, “have you ever cared whether I got laid?”

House opens his mouth to answer, and I cut him off. “More to the point, since when have you actually wanted me to get laid? As opposed to framing my girlfriend for leaving milk in the fridge door or making our neighbors think I was gay?”

The corner of House’s mouth quirks up, touché, but oddly there is anxiety, not self-congratulation, lurking in his eyes. “Because you’ve been moping around ever since Sam moved out. It’s depressing. In fact, it’s boring,” he enunciates deliberately, a pointed reminder of the quality that he always claims formed the foundation for our friendship. But this is a tactical error; I know from the unexpected harshness that he’s attempting to distract me from the truth I’ve stumbled upon.

“So ‘boring’ just happens to come with a ten day expiration date?”

“What the fuck, Wilson? Ten days. It could have been five; it could have been thirty. What does it matter?”

“It matters,” I reply, “because it wasn’t just an arbitrary deadline, was it?” He looks away, and I press the point home triumphantly. “You know that something is going to happen tomorrow, and for some reason it’s important that I have someone else in my life by then.” I lean in, staring into his eyes, giving him no hope of evasion. “You’ve decided to propose to Cuddy, haven’t you?”

House slouches back in his chair and exhales without breaking eye contact, then corrects me: “I already proposed. We’re getting married tomorrow at two.” He’s watching me, waiting to see how I will react. And I am, too. I should feel… victorious, or relieved, or indignant. Instead, I feel nothing at all.

“Congratulations,” I say simply, and if there is no joy in it, there is no irony either.

“It’s going to be small, a justice of the peace, just immediate family. No real wedding party, so I can’t ask you to return the favor you owe me, but…” I’d like you to be there, he doesn’t quite say.

My mouth opens automatically to say something suitable for a supportive best friend… then shuts again. It's suddenly dawned on me that I don’t have to say yes. That it might even be possible that I can’t say yes.

Of course, House notices my hesitation immediately. “You don’t have to tell me right now,” he mumbles. “Think it over.” He gets to his feet and makes his escape, leaving me to stare down, unseeing, at my desk.
deelaundry
Feb. 20th, 2011 01:56 pm (UTC)
WHERE'S THE REST?!? You can't leave it there!

I am totally sucked in and want to know what's next.

Great work!
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