last chapter of Trash cans beware!!!

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Chase sat in the corner of the differential room, watching his friends.

House had come back to work, Denis finally having found a combination that worked.

He was still in obvious amounts of pain, but it was no longer because the meds were inadequate, it was because he was still doing pt nearly every day.

They didn’t have a patient, which basically meant that everybody was showing up at work as an excuse to spend all day with their partners.

Wilson was sitting in House’s recliner, House jammed in beside him, half asleep.


Cameron and Foreman were sitting on the differential room’s couch, playing capture the flag with a breath-mint.

Foreman pulled back, looking at Cameron, a little bit of saliva hanging between their mouths.

“I love you.”

Chase silently got up, heading for the door with a smile on his face.

“Chase.”

He turned towards House’s office.

“You’re fired.”

Chase blinked for a moment, then raised an eyebrow.

“So are Foreman and Cameron. Why don’t you look upset?”

“Because Wilson is grinning madly.”

House snorted, and handed Chase three envelopes.

“You’re also all hired.”

Chase opened the envelope with his name on the front.

It contained a letter. Informing him that he was hired at Princeton Plainsburough Teaching Hospital. In the position of a division head. Under the head of the department, Dr. Gregory House.

He looked up.

Wilson was still grinning.

House was still looking at him unconcernedly.

“Thanks House.”

House nodded.

Chase glanced at the other two letters.

“Same thing.” said Wilson, happily.

“Cuddy had a fit.”

Chase grinned, looked over his shoulder at his two writhing former fellows, and put the other two letters on House’s desk.

“I think I’ll interrupt them later.”

House finally grinned, and Chase walked out the door.


“You were right.”

“Of course I was right. I’m the one who got three people to marry him. I know a bit about making friends.”

House laughed, and picked up his book.

“What’s that?”

“Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.”

“Trillian’s hot.”

“Is not.”

“She’s the only female human left. It’d be her or nobody. Therefore, I’d have an undeniable need to do her, which is hot.”

“Is your name Arthur Dent?”

“No.”

“Then, no, you wouldn’t have a need to do her. You’d be dead.”

“Probably woulda died doing you.”

“One could only hope.”

“Speaking of which...you don’t have a patient...”

House softly kissed Wilson on the lips.

“Just what I was thinking.”




House blinked, as he entered the pt lab waiting room, only to find Stacy and mark sitting there already.

Wilson bumped into him a moment later, still focused on the file cuddy had handed him on their way up.

“What’d’ya stop for, Hou...oh, hi Stacy.”

“Hi.”

“You’re looking better.” commented House.

“Thanks. I really needed you to remind me how crappy I feel.”

“I heard about your fall, are you ok?” asked Stacy.

“Yeah, healing fine.” replied Wilson cheerily.

“Are not. You’re not still supposed to be wincing every time you laugh.”

Wilson whacked House on the top of the head with the blue folder.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For being an ass.”

“I’m always an ass, you’re not always hitting me!”

“Well maybe this is a good time to start.”

Stacy, despite herself, smiled at the two of them.

Mark sat in his chair watching as his former nemesis grew slowly pale, yet continued to laugh.

“Dr. House.”

House didn’t bother glancing at him.

“Dr. House.”

House rolled his eyes and looked.

“You should sit down.”

House raised an eyebrow.

Wilson looked at House for a moment, then put an hand on his chest, wary of really pushing, but exerting steady pressure.

“He’s right.”

House glared at Wilson, but he was off balance, and ended up sitting down just the same.

Stacy watched this with an expression that was difficult to read.

On the one hand, she was delighted to see House happy. On the other, she wondered why she couldn’t have caused him to be that happy.

“Alright, sorry it took so long...oh, Dr. House, Wilson. You’re early. Well, anyway, here are the forms, and your prescriptions.” Denis handed mark some papers, then nodded to Stacy, House, and Wilson.

“I’ve just got to set some things up, then we can start.”

He retreated into the pt lab.

“Well...bye.” said mark, and Stacy followed him out.

“Stacy.” she turned to look at House.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Wilson smiled very slightly.

“Let me translate from emotionally stunted misanthrope to English. Good luck, you and House had a good thing, but it’s over, and you’ve got Mark now.”

House glared comically at Wilson.

Stacy shook her head, and continued out the door.

She was smiling.




One month later....

“Merry Christmas.”

House looked up to glare at Cameron, who was followed by her two graduate students.

“Go away.”

“No. Merry Christmas.”

“Go. Away.”

“No. Merry. Christmas.”

The short female grad student giggled.

“Go–”

“If you don’t say it back, I’m not telling you where Wilson is eating his lunch.”

“I can just call him. You know, we’ve got these really cool things, called *mobile* phones...”

“Ah, but that would ruin the big surprise you have obviously been planing for the last week.”

House groaned.

“Merry Christmas...” he muttered.

Cameron smiled.

“Chase drove him home. Said he was having a bad one and didn’t want to spoil it for the rest of us.”

House growled, levering himself out of his chair.

Cameron watched him go, smiling to herself as she watched him.

“Dr. House?” called the taller grad student.

Cameron looked at her.

“Don’t worry. Dr. Foreman’s team doesn’t have a case right now. You can ask them for the consult instead.”

The two students looked relived that they didn’t have to deal with the acerbic head of their department.




“You idiot!”

Wilson looked up from burying his head in the cushions of their couch.

“Sorry.” he mumbled.

House stopped.

“I thought it was meniere’s.”

“No...Chase thought it was...cus of the puking.”

House sighed, sitting down on the edge of the couch and running his hand in slow circles over Wilson’s back.

Wilson sighed at the comforting contact, and House smiled slightly.

“You take your triptan?”

Wilson nodded into the pillow.

“You want some benzo’s or something? Looks bad.”

Wilson shrugged, which House took as a yes.

House got up, digging through the living room medicine kit for the pilfered medication.

Wilson took them, and House gingerly guided him to the bedroom in an attempt to make him more comfortable. The living room could only be made so dark.

Wilson was asleep almost as soon as he touched the soft sheets. House tucked the blankets around him, and left the room.


When Wilson woke up, his migraine was gone, and he could have sworn he smelled something cooking in the kitchen.

He sat up, and walked to the door, but to his confusion, found it locked.

He knocked on it, calling House’s name.

“Hang on a sec, go sit on the bed!”

Wilson sighed, still confused, but decided House wouldn’t play any really bad jokes on him just after a migraine, and complied.


Wilson looked up from reading his book as the door opened.

He blinked at the tray of cookies House was carrying.

“Chase gave me cooking lessons. The wombat really is a girl about stuff like that.”

Wilson snorted, sitting up as House came towards him with the tray.

The book dropped.

House grinned.

Wilson’s mouth dropped open.

“Merry Christmas.” said House, walking towards Wilson, carrying the tray in both hands.

“What...when...”

“Last week.”

“But you didn’t have any sessions last week!”

“Not that I told you about.”

“Denis didn’t tell me!”

“Neither did Cameron, Chase, or Foreman. One of which figured it out from observation, another of which I told, and the third of which had a patient there at the same time and saw me.”

Wilson finally just shook his head, grinning.

“It’s still not that good, I can’t do it for more than about thirty yards, but–”

“Shut up and gimme a cookie.”

House laughed, obliging and sitting down on the bed next to Wilson.


Half an hour later, when they had both filled up with the slightly off tasting, but edible cookies, they were laying on the bed together, both looking up at the ceiling, which had been redecorated with the carcases of several dozen magazines and journals.

House looked at Wilson, blushing slightly.

Wilson blinked at him.

“I love you.”