House stood in his office, marker in hand, arms gesticulating wildly, pausing ocassionally to point at words written on the whiteboard. His three underlings sat with rapt attention, scared to draw House's wrath on themselves, their eyes followed his every move as he limped around the office.
"So... and let me pause for dramatic emphasis here. Despite my strict instructions to the contrary, you decided to treat the patient for pneumoconiosis?" House continued, turning to speak to Cameron. "You disobeyed me. Daddy is not pleased."
Cameron looked uncomfortable under House's steady gaze. "The patient had prolonged exposure to coal dust." she continued, "That's like the definition of pneumoconiosis, so we..."
House interrupted. "And you think, that I might not know that?" House warmed to his theme. "You think that I would have read that little detail and thought, what-the-hell, lets not treat this really obvious condition?"
"If he obviously has the condition, why would you not want us to treat him?" Cameron asked in an exasperated voice.
"I didn't say he had the condition, I said the condition was obvious. " House glared, daring to be challenged. "He doesn't have it." He continued. "So lets stop focusing on the obvious conditions that he doesn't have and start looking for the unobvious conditions he might."
Realising that they were fighting an uphill battle, House's team stomped off back to the lab in a flurry of lab coats and muttered obscenities.
"Working for you must be a dream." Wilson stood in the doorway, leaning with his shoulder against the frame, hand on his hip. "I mean far be it for me to suggest that your teaching methods border on deranged."
"Hey, if it works, it works." House glanced at Wilson. "Are you a little teapot?"
Wilson looked confused, then looked down at his hand on his hip. He quickly removed it and walked into the room. "Lunch?"
"Are you buying?" House asked.
"Am I ever not buying?" Wilson countered
"No wonder you've had so many wives"
House swiped his jacket from the back of his chair and moved towards the door. They walked down the hallway, House had just enough time to ridicule Wilson's hair before they reached the elevators.
"It's okay, I'm sure loads of men own hair straighteners." House used his cane to push the door open button.
"I do not own hair straighteners." Wilson hissed.
House smirked as the doors opened and they stepped into the elevator. Wilson pressed the button and the doors closed.
"Do you think Cameron's crying..." Wilson stopped mid-sentence as the elevator ground to a halt. "House... What's going on?"
"Well lets think about it, then draw up a list of the ten most likely suspects..."
Wilson interupted, nervousness evident in his voice. "How long do you think we're gonna be stuck?"
"I'm afraid I don't have my crystal ball on me right now." House patted his pockets in a theatrical fashion.
Wilson looked extremely pale, a thin film of sweat appeared over his face and his breathing quickened. House felt the first tendrils of worry start to spiral in his stomach. "You okay?"
Wilson loosened his tie, hands shaking and looked at House. "I don't know."
House picked up the emergency phone and spoke briefly. He hung up and turned to face Wilson.
"Right, well they know we're stuck..." House stalled.
"And?" Wilson faltingly inquired.
"Well it may be a while" House put his hand awkwardly on Wilson's shoulder.
Wilson glanced hesitantly at House before dropping his gaze to the floor and pacing. He walked to the corner and touched the wall, his hand momentarily pressed flat to the metal before pacing to the next corner and repeating the motion. House started to get dizzy watching him.
"Wilson?" House said.
Wilson continued without deviation.
House tried again. "Wilson?"
"Wilson!" House shouted.
Wilson looked up, startled, panic etched on his features. His breathing was shallow and his eyes darted around the elevator.
"Are you sick?" House asked, suspecting the real problem was psychological rather than pysiological but needing to be sure.
"I...I don't like small spaces, that's all." Wilson answered in a tiny voice.
House looked perplexed. "You never told me before that you're claustrophobic."
"I've never been trapped in a tiny, metal box with you before."
Wilson resumed his fevered movement. House grabbed Wilson's wrist and pulled him to a stop. "I can't have you doing that for half an hour, it's driving me crazy already."
Wilson's eyes met House's and he shouted incredulously. "Half an hour? We are going to be in here for half an hour? I can't..."
Wilson started to pant, he clutched his throat and frantically swept the elevator with his eyes. House let go of his wrist and tried to be soothing. "Wilson, come on, slow your breathing down."
Wilson's breathing remained extremely fast and he clawed at House's free hand. House dropped his cane on the floor with a thud, grabbed both Wilson's shoulders and pushed him forcefully against the wall of the elevator. "Stop!"
Wilson stared at House with surprise, no longer breathing quite so fast. House remained where he was, pinning Wilson and said. "I'm here, it's okay. C'mon, talk to me, just talk."
Wilson looked into House's eyes and felt the panic start to well again, he tried to focus on slowing his breathing but all he could think about was being in this tiny space with no escape. House saw that Wilson was starting to panic again and gripped his chin, forcing him to look into House's eyes and listen to him. "Wilson, look at me. I'm going to tell you a little story and you're going to listen to me."
Wilson seemed sceptical but nodded. House took a step back and let go of Wilson's shoulders, he began tentatively. "I had a dream a couple of weeks ago..."
Wilson started to argue. "House, I need to be distracted, other peoples dreams are boring."
"Just listen for God's sake!" House sighed irritably.
"I'm sorry, go on."
House continued. "Okay, in the dream I was in prison. I could feel the hard mattress beneath me and hear the other prisoners talking to each other. I felt really scared and alone..."
Wilson listened silently.
"...I got up and walked to the front of the cell to try and see out. Then I heard a noise behind me, I tried to turn around but I looked down and realised my hands were cuffed to the bars in front of me. I felt a hand on my shoulder which slowly ran down my back and grabbed my ass." House paused uncomfortably.
Wilson looked astonished as House continued.
"I shouted for the guards but nobody came. A mans voice whispered in my ear 'Baby, I'm gonna make you feel good.' I tried to turn around but I couldn't move an inch." House swiped a hand across his forehead. "Are you okay yet?"
Wilson replied. "Tell me the dream, House."
"I thought other peoples dreams were boring."
"I changed my mind. Go on, please." Wilson pouted his lips and fluttered his eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion. "It's helping."
House sighed and continued. "Well, in the dream, I felt scared when I realised I couldn't turn around. I could feel hot breath on the back of my neck." House faltered.
Wilson stood completely motionless, focused entirely on House.
"I felt the guy behind me, pressed tight up against my back. I suddenly realised that I was really hard. He reached around and put his hand over my crotch. I heard keys jangling and looked up..." House trailed off, then found his voice again. "I looked up, you were standing there dressed as a guard. You gazed into my eyes and whispered my name... Then, I came in my pants and woke up."
Wilson shook his head. A shrill noise broke the silence between the two men, the emergency phone was ringing. House picked it up, glancing at Wilson nervously. "Yeah we're okay, just fix it." House said into the phone and hung up.
"What did they say?" Wilson blurted.
"They said they're working on it." House avoided Wilson's questioning gaze.
Wilson's breathing started to accelerate and he fought the rising panic. "Oh God, we are going to be here for hours. I can't stand it House... I think I'm going to pass out." Wilson's legs became unsteady and he looked as though he might fall at any moment.
House put his arm out to steady his friend and racked his brains to think of a distraction. "Wilson?"
Wilson was retreating into his own private hell, he was pacing, sweating and had started to breathe too quickly again. House didn't think about what he was doing. He grabbed Wilson hard and pushed him forcibly against the wall. Before Wilson had a chance to react, House placed his lips over Wilson's and kissed him.
Wilson's eyes widened in shock and he froze, just as House was about to pull back and apologize, Wilson kissed him back. Tentatively at first, then with more passion. House brought his hand up to Wilson's face and deepened the kiss. Wilson trailed his hand down House's back and cupped his ass. House moaned into Wilson's mouth and pulled him tighter against his body. The elevator filled with moans and harsh panting as the two men kissed and groped each other frantically.
Neither man noticed the elevators motion or heard the doors opening.
"Doctors House and Wilson, in my office now." Cuddy's voice finally got their attention and they both looked sheepish.
"Erm... there's a rational explaination." Wilson stammered.
House just smirked and replied "Dr. Wilson needed a distraction from his claustrophobia."
"Is that what you kids are calling it these days?" Dr. Cuddy led the way to her office smiling to herself.
Wilson leaned over to House and whispered. "Your bathroom is really tiny, wanna distract me in the shower?"
House laughed and followed Cuddy to her office.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.