Here it is, a crackfic; just some fun in the aftermath of the rather depressing finale. This is nothing but silliness and AU because who knows where it would fall in the timeline given the finale, and it would never happen anyway. This will be heavy on the dialogue, light on description, just cause I feel like it. Enjoy!

"Absolutely not. No. No way."

"Wilson, this isn't an option. The board took a vote and you were chosen to represent the oncology staff."

"I was only chosen to chaperone HIM. You weren't there at the last convention; it took me a week to fully recover. You're going, you chaperone him."

"There is absolutely no way I will share a room with House. How can I fully chaperone him if I'm not in the same room?"

A gravely voice emerged from the darkest corner of the hospital's cafeteria, "You talk as if I'm not an adult."

Jumping at the sound of his voice, she remained with her eyes locked on Wilson, not turning to face the limping twerp as he approached, "Your adult status is debatable, especially after that stunt with the laxative laced suckers at the front desk."

"Hey, any parent who shoves candy into their kid's mouth to shut them up will eventually have to face the dental consequences. It was all done for the sake of saving some poor kid from excruciating dental work."

"Ah, yes, well the saint once again rises from the ashes." Wilson quipped.

"Did I ever mention my nickname is Phoenix?"

"So, Hotlips," House said, raising his eyebrows twice, "Should we get a hotel room with one bed or two at the convention?"

"I don't know Hawkeye. Why don't you ask him?" she asked motioning towards Wilson, "He's your roomie."

"Hey, I thought it was just the two of us going on this romantic Vegas holiday?" he smirked.

"House, this is an educational seminar in which YOU are giving a speech on diagnostics, and this is in no way a romantic anything."

"Hey, just because you're not interested in a romantic getaway doesn't mean Wilson and I can't have a little fun, right Jimmy?" House said furtively.

"Weekend of my dreams, Greggie," he said with a roll of his eyes.


"Can you believe that?" House said, turning around in the rental car to watch the sign fade into the distance, "Drive through marriages! How utterly romantic!"

"Did you see that one over there?" Wilson quipped, pointing in the opposite direction, "Marriages performed by Elvis, Cher or Dolly Parton."

"Dolly Parton, definitely," House bit into a candy bar and offered the uneaten part to Cuddy, who turned up her nose. "How much you wanna bet someone from our convention will get hitched this weekend?"

"Na, won't happen," Wilson shooed the half eaten candy bar out of his face.

House took another bite, mumbling, "Why not?"

"People aren't here to get married, they're here to gamble and attend the seminar."

"Want to put money where your mouth is?"

"How much?"

"Oh honestly House, no one's getting married this weekend," Cuddy finally butted in, growing tired of listening to the two.

Wilson looked at Cuddy and egged her on, "A hundred bucks?"

"Make it two," House added, "You in?" he asked, looking at her.

Cuddy shook her head, "Not a chance."

"Your loss," House said, stuffing the half eaten candy bar into the outside pocket of her suitcase, unbeknownst to her.


"Two rooms, 304 and 310."

"Not adjoining rooms?" House asked the clerk.

"Sorry sir, we have only these two rooms left."

Cuddy grabbed her room key out of House's hand, "Thank goodness for that," she said, heading towards the elevator bay.


"I'm going down to gamble, coming?" Wilson asked.

"I've got plans to bug Miss. Funbags. Meet for dinner later?"

"No, I'm going to gamble for a bit before ordering room service, I'm tired."

"Suit yourself."


Cuddy stepped out of the shower, wrapped one towel around her head, and one around her torso before opening the bathroom door. Upon opening it, she was thoroughly frightened by the tall figure standing on the threshold to the bathroom; before she realized it was him, she took a few stumbling steps backwards screaming, and losing her balance, she fell squarely on her tush.

"Dammit HOUSE!" Cuddy scrambled to cover her partially exposed front, embarrassed more than anything else, and now acutely aware of the sharp pain stemming from her backside.

House pursed his lips, not meaning to scare her to the point of falling but he couldn't contain the subsequent smirk, unable to help himself, "Good thing you've got a large cushion to fall on."

"Get out."

His shoulders dropped, realizing her fury. House extended a helping hand, "Come on."

"I don't need your help."

"Cuddy, get up off your ass, don't be one. Just take my hand."

"Who's being the ass?" She retorted, reaching for his hand, "And don't try to steal my towel." She grimaced as she stood.

With a sly smile he asked, "Want me take a look at that?"

She sighed, giving him an incredulous look, "Hand me my clothes and let me get dressed in peace." He complied, whisking the casual outfit from the hotel bed with his cane and tossing it to her before retreating to the bedroom, checking out the mini-fridge.

Nearly half an hour later, Cuddy emerged from the bathroom, "You're still here?"

House patted the bed, motioning for her to take a seat next to him, "Here, drink up."

She shook her head, "House."

"Oh come on, the seminar doesn't start until tomorrow, relax and enjoy a drink. Afraid you can't finish the whole bottle?" he asked sarcastically as he held up the mini bottle of vodka.

Cuddy raised one eyebrow, and not wanting to show any sign of weakness, she took the small bottle from him and downed it in one gulp. House looked on in approval.

"Where's Wilson?" she asked.

"Gambling, said he was going to turn in early," House eyed her, half smiling, "Let's go raid the buffet."

"I hate buffets."

"Fine, there's a diner downstairs."

"I don't want a burger."

House sighed deeply, "There's an Italian restaurant. Will that do?" Cuddy nodded.


House studied Cuddy as she studied the menu. The waitress approached and without giving her the chance to order, he ordered for them both.

"Stuffed mushrooms to start, she'll have the vegetable marinara with angel hair, no capers and a glass of the house chardonnay and I'll have the filet of beef, medium rare with the garlic mashed potatoes and a glass of the house merlot." The waitress nodded and turned away before Cuddy could protest.

She shook her head, "You didn't give me the chance to say anything. What if I wanted something else?"

"Do you?"

Damn, she knew he had her. She rolled her eyes, "You should have allowed me to order for myself."

"You're a vegetarian Cuddy, there were only two options on the menu without meat and you don't like cheese filled manicotti. You only ever drink white wine and you hate capers. Am I wrong?"

It angered her to know that he was right, while simultaneously touched that he knew her so well, "No."

The waitress returned with the wine, bread and a small dish of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. House picked up his wine and held it up in a toast, waiting for Cuddy to do the same.

"What are we toasting?" She asked skeptically.

"To a painless convention this weekend and to at least one couple getting hitched."

Cuddy smiled, half chuckling. She raised her glass and clinked it with his, "To a very painless convention and I can't believe you'd toast your bet with Wilson." House smiled furtively and sipped his wine.