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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
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2,156
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1/1
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Opportunist 3: Discussion Continues

Summary:

The discussion continues.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Opportunist: Discussion Continues
by Scribe

"Can we wait till after we eat to continue this discussion?" said House. "I want some of that purple crab thing, and cold eggs are disgusting."

"This from a man I've seen put Miracle Whip on macaroni and cheese," said Wilson.

"You know damn good I was drunk, and it was to win a bet."

"Goes to prove that you shouldn't bet," said Chase, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh, I don't know," Wilson looked at his plate, poking his food and smiling while House smirked.

Chase waited, and when neither of them said anything he said, "I know you did well on Casino Night against Cuddy, but I haven't noticed you flying off to Vegas, or reading a racing form."

"He doesn't bet much publicly," said House. "Private bets are more fun, anyway." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Especially if you do it for forfeits instead of cash."

"I sense a story here," said Chase. "Tell."

"Not until we have some time to spare, and we're naked," said Wilson. "All right--let's eat. We're not going to get anything accomplished if he wants to eat."

House and Chase had been reaching for the last rib at the same time. House quickly snatched up his fork and let it hover threateningly. Chase sat back, lips twitching, hands raised in surrender. "Okay. I can wait a few more minutes."

House took the rib and started to demolish it, ripping away the mahogany colored meat with strong, white teeth. "Your training is coming along well. I may not have to invest in that shock collar after all."

Wilson put his head in his hands, shoulders shaking slightly. "Dear god. The very thought of you being responsible for the socialization of a child..."

~*~

Chase stacked the plates and started toward the kitchen. "I'll bring drinks. Wine all around?"

"Ginger ale," called House.

Wilson and Chase were both quiet for a moment, Chase leaning back to look at House.
"Ginger ale and whiskey?"

"Hold on--let me check." He rolled his eyes upward, as if concentrated. "There were two words in that sentance--neither one of them whiskey." He lowered his gaze to Chase. "What do YOU think?"

"Okay."

"No need to bite his head off," said Wilson. "I couldn't believe my ears either. What's up?"

"Maybe I'm just feeling a little 1950s wholesome tonight. I'm sure it's an abberation and will soon pass." Chase came in with two glasses of wine and a tall glass of ginger ale. He was watching the ginger ale as is it was some sort of strange potion that might explode at any moment. "If I'd known it was going to mess with you guys' minds I'd have done it a long time ago." He and Wilson were sitting on the couch, and he scooted to the side, patting the cushion between them. "Park that sexy ass, and we'll discuss making a choice that will undoubtedly wear it out."

Chase settled, passing out the drinks. House took a long sip, letting his free hand drop onto Chase's thigh. House didn't touch in public, but he was surprisingly tactile in private. He liked casually touching either of his lovers during odd moments at home. Chase and Wilson accepted the unexpected hugs, strokes, kisses, and gentle pinches happily. They knew that House wasn't very vocal about emotions, and this was his gruff way of demonstrating affection.

House lowered the glass, smacking his lips as he regarded it. "Maybe some lemon next time. Okay, I'm going to keep on pointing out the problems of each choice. Most people assume that negativity is the point of my life--no reason to disappoint them. You two can be the pros and I'll be the con, and if you think that both of those titles don't give me fantasy material, you don't know me very well."

"Okay, I've made a mental note--rent boy fantasy, and horny convicts fantasy."

Chase gave a mock sigh. "Guess who's going to be the rent boy AND the new fish?" He took a sip of wine, his smirk showing even around the rim of the glass.

"That's because you're a slut at heart," said House. "Luckily Wilson and I are man enough to keep you satisfied. What option do you think is the most likely to succeed?"

"Well, I guess that would be taking in foster kids. I don't think we'd have too much trouble getting approved for a school age kid." He frowned, "But..."

"But you want an infant?" said Wilson.

"That'd be nice. But with foster kids they're not really YOURS."

"I'm assuming you don't mean that 'not my blood' crap," said House.

"No. Sharing DNA doesn't guaranty a close parent-child relationship--I know that from experience. No, I mean that foster care is designed to be temporary. While some arrangements result in adoptions, the main thrust of the foster care system is to eventually return the child to his parents. The thought of bonding with a child and then having to hand him back... And they aren't usually taken away from secure, pleasant environments in the first place. Having to send them back to something that might be dangerous as well as unpleasant... I don't think I could do it."

"That's a remarkably mature decision," said House. "And to think that people believe I'm only interested in you for your body. That's only the main reason. Foster care is out. Adoption?"

Wilson sighed. "It isn't easy even for heterosexual married couples to get approved, and we're three men involved in a relationship that isn't sanctioned by any recognized major religion, or the American legal system. We might eventually get approved, but it would probably take a year--years."

"Unless we do an over seas adoption," said Chase.

"I'm sure that choice has done a lot of good, helped a lot of infertile couples and taken a lot of children out of less-than-lush environments," said House, "but I have to represent the cynic factor here. Doesn't it strike you a bit like America going in and stripping a third world country of another natural resource?" Chase and Wilson both stared at him. "If you want to be practical, how often can you get the complete medical records for a child adopted like that? If they come down with something obscure, genetic or otherwise, we can't give them the best care possible. C'mon, you guys--we're all doctors. What would our attitude be toward parents who brought in a gravely ill child with a folder that basically told you only whether or not they'd had their shots--if that much? I had to treat a Romanian orphan once and let me tell you, it was like shooting craps for someone's soul in a dark alley--in a bad neighborhood. I'd say put adoption on the back burner, too."

"There's private adoption," said Wilson. "We have friends in obstetrics who could contact us if they have a patient who can't keep their baby."

"I'm glad you didn't say 'can't AFFORD to keep their baby'," said House. "I generally don't like to feel like I'm buying a human being. Renting them--" he pinched Chase, "that's another story. Anyway, there are massive legal issues involved in that type of situation."

"But wouldn't it be like any other legal transaction?" said Chase. "With a contract?"

"Oh, and people NEVER try to renege on contracts," said House. "And they never sue if it's apparent even to a blind man that they don't have a snowball's chance in hell. Contracts and legal agreements aside, nothing would stop them from suing for custody, either because they just changed their mind, or they thought they could get money out of us." He stirred his drink with his fingertip. "And don't act like you think they wouldn't do that. We all know that human greed is one thing you can almost always count on."

"There's surrogacy," said Wilson.

"That brings up the 'rent a womb' thing," said Chase. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."

"Some people don't ask to be paid," said Wilson. "Friends or family will sometimes carry the baby."

"Let's see who we could ask," said House. "There's Cameron. She might be willing if she thought it would work as a kiss-up. Or she's into rescue. We could whine to her that our childless state is endangering our happy home. Who else? Half the nurses at the hospital would be willing to at least try, as long as it was with Chase, and he agreed to try for it the old-fashioned way. Oh, I know! How about Cuddy? She might agree if I did my clinic hours."

"You'd have to sweeten the pot by acting cordial to the patients," said Wilson, "and I can't ask you to make that sacrifice."

"If we did use a surrogate," said Chase, "which of us would be the sperm donar?"

"I'd say all three," said House. "And I could make some sort of crude remark here about something like a cream filled Twinkie..."

"You already used that one my first night with you two," said Chase dryly.

"Right. Don't want to repeat myself too much. Personally, I'd leave things up to you and/or Wilson."

"You wouldn't want to feel that it was your own child?" said Chase.

House stared at him. "It WOULD be my own child, because one of you would be the father." He slapped Chase lightly on the forehead. "I'm supposed to be the gruff boor with the heart of gold..."

"I will not mention iron pyrate," muttered Wilson.

"Shut up, Mister Sympathy Bordering on Being an Empath. You, Chase, are supposed to be the outwardly arrogant, inwardly insecure stud muffin. You wouldn't think that someone who adopted a baby at birth couldn't feel a parental bond, would you?"

"Of course not," said Wilson, while Chase shook his head.

"Good. I'm not insulted, so I won't cut you two off."

"How many times have you threatened to cut us off," said Chase, "and how many times has it actually happened?"

"Someday I'll be angrier than I am horny, then watch out. I'm afraid that the surrogate would present the same problem that a private adoption would. Even with the added pull of one of us being the baby's biological father, any balking on the mother's part could cause sheer legal hell. We wouldn't want to do that to a baby. I still remember the video of Baby M being taken away from her parents, crying her teeny eyes out. It made me want to slap them."

"Who?" said Wilson. "The adoptive mother, the biological father, the biological mother, or the biological mother's..."

"Hell, any one of them, or any combination!" growled House. "Best interests of the child." He snorted. "Looked like a 'me me me' party from where I was sitting. Solomon would have never been able to solve that decision, because there wasn't a one of 'em willing to give up the baby to spare her emotions."

Chase sighed, dispirited. "We've covered all the possibilities." He raised his glass to House. "Including kidnapping from the nursery. The only thing that hasn't been suggested in for me to pick up a woman in a bar, drag her back, drug her, lock her in the basement, each of us have sex with her till she conceives, keep her till she gives birth, then drug her again and ship her to Singapor."

"You've got to stop watching those direct-to-video horror-thrillers," said Wilson.

"There's one other possibility," said House. "And now that we've thoroughly picked apart all other avenues, I think it's time to present it."

"eBay?" said Wilson.

House was standing up, and he reached across Chase to swat Wilson. "Be practical. You can never count on the goods actually being delivered when you deal with them." He limped over to the small table near the front door. As usual, he'd deposited the mail and evening paper there. Now he pawed them aside, lifting the thick magazine they had been hiding. He returned to the couch and tossed the magazine in Chase's lap.

Chase picked up the magazine, and Wilson leaned over to look at it, too. Chase's attention was caught by the title near the top. "IMPROVING MOTILITY AND VIABILITY IN SPERM? I don't think that would do us much good. Even if I could get a woman pregnant without touching her, there would still be the problem of getting her to agree to let us adopt."

House rolled his eyes. "Bottom, right hand side."

They read the article title. "RESEARCH BREAKTHROUGH IN MALE PREGNANCY?" read Chase. He and Wilson looked at each other, then they both looked at House.

"And on that note," said House, "I think I'll go have a soak, maybe fire up the whirlpool." He turned and started back toward the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, "Feel free to talk amongst yourselves."

The End

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Scribe.
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