Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D.

There really shouldn't be mistletoes in Princeton Plainsboro.

Wilson was never the kind to make complicated and brilliant plans to unceremoniously capture someone underneath the mistletoe, but that only meant that there would be other people who would create schemes to capture him underneath the mistletoe.

This would be so bad.

It had been an innocent, merry day at the hospital, with the janitors hanging sparkly garlands at the walls and falling off of the ladders while trying to place the traditional star on top of the massive tree in the middle of the lobby. Wilson had strolled through the doors looking like the epitome of Christmas; light snow scattered on his dark coat, a festive mug of hot chocolate in his hand with floating pieces of mint candy bobbing around the steamy cup. So it was only expected that his day would continue on in holiday fervor and that he would trot unknowingly underneath a mistletoe.

"Oh! Dr. Wilson! Look up!" Cuddy exclaimed.

Wilson peered up to the ceiling, expecting a colossal spider or some sort of entrapment that House had created that would dump confetti or Gatorade on his head once he would step underneath. He was more than shocked – which he really shouldn't be, it was Christmastime – to see a familiar piece of greenery staring eerily at him. He cringed slightly.

"Oh," he mumbled, "a mistletoe." Wilson stared over his shoulder. "I thought they weren't hung up in this hallway."

However, Wilson noticed immediately that there was no one else standing with him underneath the mistletoe, and that should be his free ticket to leave – exit jail and go straight pass go.

But just as he was about to haste away to his office, Cuddy took one bold stride forward to join him underneath the mistletoe. Wilson's eyes widened.

"What's the fun of a mistletoe when there's no one to kiss?" Cuddy asked with a smile, shrugging.

"Oh, well, all right." Wilson scanned the halls, a little paranoid of onlookers.

And just as he was about to give his boss a haste peck, a set of footsteps joined the hall. Wilson groaned.

"Oh. Am I interrupting?" Taub asked awkwardly, Kutner at his side and an x-ray in his fingers. "It's just we need you to approve a biopsy for this–"

The idea of politely rushing them off seemed impossible as Wilson saw Thirteen and Foreman enter the equation. He rubbed his temples with a deep sigh, realizing that an audience would soon be forming.

"You found her!" Foreman said, putting his hands on his hips. Thirteen raised her eyebrows at Cuddy and Wilson.

"Mistletoe?" she asked curiously, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Wilson nodded curtly, biting his bottom lip.

"Wilson! There you are!" Cameron came bounding up to the oncologist, sighing, "I promised House I would tell you when I see you that he needs to talk to you about something – oh, what's going on?" she smiled interestedly at seeing the crowd forming around the mistletoe victims.

"I hope you don't have stage fright!" Cuddy joked, laughing carelessly.

Wilson scanned the area, just pleading and hoping that the one person he wanted here the least would not find the need to join the swarm of spectators. There was Thirteen, Taub, Kutner, Foreman, Cameron, and when the hell had Chase joined the group?

Awkwardly, Wilson grabbed Cuddy's waist and pressed his mouth uncomfortably towards her lips. She edged closer, putting her hand on Wilson's shoulder and squeezing it tightly.

"What the hell is going on?"

Wilson ripped his mouth away from Cuddy's, his eyes as wide as tree trunks as he snapped his head down the hall to the origination of the voice.

"House!" Cuddy barked, clearly peeved. She put her hands on her hips sternly, pursing her lips.

House limped hurriedly down the hallway, narrowing his eyes and glowering at the crowd.

"So," he began, turning to grill Wilson, "what's going on here?"

"I wanted to kiss him!" Cuddy growled strictly, wanting to lure House away with her glare, "And he wanted to kiss me."

Wilson gaped in her direction. House turned to the oncologist. "So," he said again, "you wanted to kiss Cuddy?"

"Yes, House!" Cuddy interrupted, taking a firm step forward and poking House in the chest, "Accept it. Take your team and do your job."

The older man ignored her, "I think you should stick to your job in the hospital as well," he shot insensitively at Cuddy, "because if kissing Wilson would be your job, you would have been fired around, well, yesterday."

Cuddy put her hands on her hips crossly. "Jealous?" she whispered with a smug and satisfied smile.

"We need a syringe to deflate your head over here, Cuddy," House said, chuckling dryly.

"If you think it was such a horrible kiss, why don't you ask Wilson?"

"It was the mistletoe, House," Wilson rambled unstoppably, running a hand through his hair, "It wasn't my–"

House glanced up at the ceiling, grinning – no, smirking – as his gaze fell upon the twinkling piece. "Oh, you're right, Wilson," he said, "and what good is a mistletoe if there's no one to kiss?" In one sweep he had pushed Cuddy aside and replaced himself in her spot. Wilson widened his eyes as he realized what his friend's intentions were.

"Cuddy, watch and learn."

"House, I don't think–" Wilson began.

"Shut up, Wilson," House ordered, and before he could say another word, he had grabbed his hair with one hand and grabbed his butt cheek with the other, smashing their lips together. Wilson made a small noise of surprise and protest, wanting to point out that there were multiple observers watching their kiss with utmost attention. Somewhere in the background, Wilson could hear Cuddy tut incredulously, but he was too far engrossed in House's mouth to really care. What seemed like years later, House pulled away breathlessly, his fingers briefly caressing the hem of Wilson's hair before he smirked in his boss's direction.

"That's how it's done."

"I thought we agreed on no public displays of affection in the hospital." Wilson muttered, putting his flushed face into his hands.

"Yes, well," House's hand crawled its way over to the small of Wilson's back. "Do you expect me to go by that rule when others don't either?"

"Are – are you–?" Cuddy stammered.

House looked thoroughly amused at how slowly his boss was comprehending – or simply refusing to comprehend – the situation. The hand that was firm on Wilson's back moved down to the oncologist's bottom, squeezing for just a moment. Wilson jumped, yelping.

Cuddy stared, a little repulsed, at the embarrassing scene in front of her; the flushing cheeks on Wilson's face, House's smug smirk, and a whole audience watching intensely behind her. She turned to Wilson as though waiting for him to confirm it.

"Well?" she pressed commandingly, her eyes grilling into Wilson's like spears, "Wilson, is he joking?"

There were a few indistinctive murmurs from the audience, most of them originating from Kutner muttering things like "Pretty convincing kiss, is House really that desperate for pranking Cuddy or is he really that gay?". House sent him a glare.

"I… It's not a joke, I'm sorry," Wilson said apologetically, watching Cuddy's face deflate in disappointment.

"Seriously? Him?" Cuddy asked, her face scrunched slightly in disgust, "House?"

"That's like a giant hug, Cuddy." House muttered wryly.

"He's…" Wilson's explanation had moved from Cuddy to the whole group, almost as though he was fruitlessly trying to explain himself. He laughed uneasily, "He's really not that bad once you warm up to him as a – well, you know, as, more than a friend."

The faces of everyone watching Wilson were purely blank. Foreman watched silently, a little skeptical, Chase was gaping, Cameron was shaking her head in disbelief, Taub was still as a statue, Kutner was fighting to suppress his laughter, and Thirteen's eyebrows were up to her hairline. Wilson's smile twitched nervously.

Cuddy's shoulders slumped, turning to face the employees briskly, "Don't you all have things to do?" she barked, glowering at the chuckling Kutner especially. Kutner immediately straightened, shuffling hastily after Taub.

Once the crowd had generally dispersed except for Cuddy, Wilson, and one very smug House, the oldest out of the three flourished his cane in front of Wilson with a broad smile.

"Here's your night in shining armor, saving you from kisses with Cuddy." House told Wilson with a beam. Cuddy shook her head incredulously.

"I'm right here, House!" she said pointedly, frowning when House let out a bark of laughter.

"Yes, because I was being so hard to be discreet." He mumbled sardonically in her direction.

"Um." Wilson said awkwardly, watching uneasily as the two doctors across from him glowered at each other. "Um, House, can we, uh, get out of here, please? I'm sorry, Lisa."

"I'm thinking I like the way you're thinking," House told the oncologist, a hand snaking its way possessively around Wilson's waist, "See you around, Cuddy."

"Um. All right, I, uh – I really am sorry, Lisa–" Wilson said desperately over his shoulder, but shut his mouth promptly to suppress a low groan as House rubbed at the soft spot of Wilson's hip teasingly.

"Stop talking, Jimmy," House ordered in his ear, pinching the skin at his waist lightly. Wilson nodded mutely.

"I – all right." He agreed, finally letting the embarrassing situation with Cuddy slip from his mind as House nipped playfully at the ear.

"Think she needs to know what's mine."

"I think she knows enough, Greg." Wilson told him quietly, not being able to contain a short bout of laughter as he recalled the startled look on his boss's face.


Wilson really didn't like mistletoes.

Hastily readjusting the tie that he had sloppily thrown on after House had removed it when he had lured him into the nearby janitor closet, Wilson tucked his shirt back into his pants and heaved a deep sigh.

He couldn't help but recall the memories of his official and not-so-expected outing at Princeton Plainsboro a few hours before and scorn upon what mistletoes brought upon the world. Forcing two people to kiss simply because a piece of the outdoors had been stuck up on the ceilings because it looked pretty in the light? Wilson shook his head at his desk as he filed through papers briskly.

There was a firm knock on his office door. "Come in." The oncologist greeted loudly, but frowned slightly as the door remained shut but another rap on the wood sounded.

"Uh. Come in." Still, the door remained closed. Wilson had the sneaking suspicion it was a kid pulling pranks on the doctors in the hospital down the hall, or perhaps even one of those hospital carolers who irritated Wilson to his very core. Shooting up from his chair and stomping over to the door, he pulled it open with a scowl.


House, leaning in the doorway like a suave teenager, jingled a mistletoe in his fingers with a smirk.

"You swiped a mistletoe from the ceiling?"

"Well," House began, "I think they're in safer hands now." He chuckled, holding it above Wilson's head with another supportive jingle. "Now. Play by the rules and give me a kiss."

"You know I really don't like mistletoes, right?"

"Oh, don't you know that I'm the only one around here who gets to hate things? Don't pull a Greg House on me." He waggled his finger down upon Wilson with a childish smirk, playing with the mistletoe fondly with his thumb. Wilson stared up at the older man and couldn't help but be reminded of a child on Christmas morning as he pouted at Wilson expectantly.

"Pwetty pwease, Daddy?" House pleaded with another encouraging jingle of the mistletoe. The brown-haired man grabbed the mistletoe with his fist to promptly put an end to the annoying ringing.

"First of all, if you want a kiss, don't call me Daddy," Wilson said with a slight shudder and roll of the eyes, "and second of all, just shut up, Greg." He cupped the older man's cheek and stroked his stubble with his thumb, rolling to the tip of his feet to press his lips to House's firmly.

When they finally pulled apart, Wilson giving a slightly embarrassed wave hello to a passing by patient staring down at the scene in the doorway with a scowl, House smiled wickedly.

"That was revenge on Cuddy for cornering my man underneath the mistletoe."

Wilson nodded, "I'm glad you weren't her just now," he said with a smile, right before he snatched the mistletoe out of House's fingers, "now give me that. I don't want to know what other horrors you might want to do with this thing."

"The horrors are already done, my dear Wilson."

Wilson raised his eyebrows imploringly with a sigh.

House grinned, "Cuddy and the hideously wrinkly balding man from floor two were accidentally stuck underneath it an hour ago. And I just happened to be there to oversee it."

AN: This is just one of those oneshots to help get all of you in the spirit for the upcoming premiere of Season Five of the ever wonderful show House, and just another way to remind you of the somewhat upcoming holiday of Christmas. I know that it's only September, but it's always when summer is over and the Fall Chill starts tainting the air that I can't help but think of the holidays again. But forget House and Christmas. This oneshot was really to get all of the House/Wilson shippers going again! I want all of us to start Season Five with strength!! :D


Julie :P