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[personal profile] cindylouwho

House sat on his couch, flushed and of chapped nose.  He was surrounded by used tissues, along with a box half full.  He hadn't bothered to toss them into the wastebasket Wilson had thoughtfully moved into the living room for him, it was too much effort.  He pulled the afghan tighter around his shoulders and looked pitifully toward the kitchen where Wilson was making some sort of commotion.

                He sniffled and his breath hitched, and he sneezed pitifully four times.  When he had recovered, he realized Wilson had come into the room and was sitting next to him, holding a cup of tea and a handful of tissues for him.  House snatched the tissues from Wilson and carefully blew his sore nose.   "Bless you.  I made you some tea."   House tried to look and sound as miserable as possible as he took the steaming mug from Wilson. "Thadks."  House winced as the tea hit his tender throat.   Wilson peered at him, concerned, yet suspicious of how much was House being House or House actually being sick. 


                "I want to look at your throat again, ok?"  Wilson located his penlight and waited for House to drain the mug of tea.   House reluctantly nodded and opened his mouth.  Wilson peered in, noticing that House's throat was red, but not as much as earlier.  No spots or anything of concern.  House began to make a funny noise, and batted Wilson away weakly as he bent forward in a fit of sneezes, just barely missing sneezing all over Wilson. 

                "Bless you again."  He went to hand House more tissues and found the box empty.  He fumbled through his trouser pocket and found his handkerchief, and handed it to House.  House moaned his displeasure at feeling miserable.  "Wilsob," he croaked out.  "I'm sidck."   He wiped his nose, and half flopped over, head falling onto Wilson's shoulder. 

                Wilson took this opportunity to feel House's forehead, and found it much cooler than earlier.  "Well your fever broke; you are much cooler now.  And your throat looks way better."  House sniffled at the news.  Wilson righted House off his shoulder and waited.  House blinked several times and then sneezed violently twice again.  Wilson chuckled and stood up.  "Bless you.  Let me see if I can find you some more tissues, and maybe some sudafed or something."  House looked up at Wilson pitifully.  "Vicodin," he croaked.  "The leg doesn't lidke the coubch so buch."  House wiped at his nose again and sighed. 

                Wilson smiled.  "Yes, I will find your Vicodin too.  And I'll get you some more tea."   He leaned down and kissed House on the forehead.  "You better take just as good care of me if I get this cold from you."  Wilson rubbed his throat, which was beginning to feel scratchy.  House looked up at Wilson, alarmed.  Wilson just shrugged.  "At least you won't be miserable alone," he said as he headed back into the kitchen.

                House must have dozed off for a few minutes, because when he woke up he found two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table in front of him, along with two bottles of water, his Vicodin, assorted cold meds and a new box of tissues.  Wilson was sitting beside him watching television.  He sat up and grabbed his Vicodin and downed a few with a few mouthfuls of tea.  He blew his nose again, and looked over at Wilson.   He sniffled and Wilson looked over at him.  "You ok?" he asked.  House nodded.  House finished his tea, and settled back on the couch, close to Wilson.  Within moments he was fast asleep, snoring slightly, his head on Wilson's shoulder.  

                Wilson smiled.  He should take a picture of this for bribery purposes, he thought.  He pulled out his cell phone and took a picture.  'This should help get him to take care of me if I get this cold, he thought.  Wilson put his phone back in his pocket and shifted closer to House.  If he was getting this cold, he better get some rest too. 

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March 2011

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