Title: One Heart, Two Hearts Author: damigella aka damigella_314
Rating: for all readers, but the youngest might miss some not-so-subtle innuendoes.
Summary: House solves mysteries, gets a new tv.
Spoilers: starts H/C, goes H/W, faint hint of slash. Somewhere in S7
Word count: 800 approx.
Disclaimer: don't own anything. Author's Notes: This is a response to We Heart Wilson's Valentine Day challenge on sick_wilson, whose prompt was Heart.
Beta Reader: My deepest thanks to yarroway who did a fantastic beta reading job very, very fast. And then did it again. Awesome.
"That's not even a case, it's too easy."
"No, it's not a case because it's four teenagers dying. If you think it's so easy, will you kindly inform someone at the hospital what's wrong with them, so that they can be cured? God forbid you try and heal someone yourself, of course. Someone might think you're a doctor. Or that you care."
"Don't get your panties in a twist. You know your word is law for me. I'll get Taub to treat them."
Why Taub? she asks herself, as she watches her boyfriend limping away. She briefly reviews in her memory the tidy stacks of filled forms on his desk, the tasteful tie he is wearing, and the three well-fitting lab coats he had bought last week. One of which he is also wearing today. At least the part about my word being law is correct. She smiles, and goes back to her office to prepare the press release announcing the solution of another medical mystery.
"Apparently you were right and it was a bad batch of tattooing ink."
House's expression is very self-satisfied. "I'm always right. That's why I'm Head of Diagnostics. It takes one to two weeks for the symptoms to develop, depending on the size and location of the tattoo, so we might expect more lovesick teens to show up in the next fifteen days. No worry, nothing that a careful tattoo removal won't deal with. We've identified the source and there will be no new cases." House smiles, his eyes as shining as the pocket protector of his lab coat. "There is still a mystery, though. How come you haven't made a big media fuss about this? You're a publicity slut."
She blushes. "Turns out they're not all teenagers. There's, uh, a politician. A married Republican politician. The tattoo was the name of his secretary."
"Well, he can just divorce and marry the secretary. He gets more kids, all good copy for the next election ad."
"The secretary's name is Peter. He wanted to keep it quiet, and I agreed." She smiled sweetly. "There will be so many new HD 42" televisions around that I'm sure I'll find a way to put one in your office."
"What's the tally now?"
"Fifteen patients cured, three admitted. You don't even see them anymore?"
"No, I have Chase and Foreman do the assessment and Taub perform the dermabrasion. And in case there are other philanderers around I'm keeping M3 away from this - she wouldn't tattle but she might not resist lecturing, and I want none of my patients to die of boredom." He yawns. "I will, though, if I don't get a more interesting case soon."
Foreman runs up to him, a panicked expression on his face. "You must come, House. There's a patient whose tattoo we can't find. And he's getting worse. Fast."
"You can't find a tattoo? How stupid are you? Look better!"
"House, the patient is Wilson."
"Ok, now you all get out of here. I need to speak to him alone."
"House, you can't speak to him. He's passed out."
"Out of here! All of you! Now!"
"Ouch. What happened? All I can remember is sitting on a bar stool and everything going black. Was the Guinness bad?" His hands find the bandage and his expression changes. "What happened to me?"
"Well, it was a problem with a tainted, dark liquid going inside your body, but it wasn't beer. You must choose a respectable tattoo artist next time."
"House, you... saw... my tattoo?"
"Yes, and what a pretty tattoo it was. Don't worry, I took a picture before Taub removed it. When you're fine, we'll go to my favorite place and we'll both get a copy of it. In a more visible and less painful spot. What do you think? Wrist? Neck? Arm?"
"You. Saw. My. Tattoo." Wilson notices that his own voice has apparently gone up an octave, while a remote corner of his brain meditates the possible consequences of the fact that Taub has seen it as well.
"Yes. I was the one who shaved you, found the tattoo, and saved your life. As I guess you remember from when you got it, the whole shaved area will itch for a while as the hair grows back. It's a delicate zone, I'll have the nurse apply lidocaine cream." A big smile. "Forget it, actually, I'll apply it myself." The smile looks slightly devilish now. "I've also seen some lube in your desk drawer. I think I'll bring it along and apply some near to where the lidocaine goes."
"So, uh, you know?" He blushes.
"I do. I can barely restrain myself from wanting your next tattoo to be on your forehead, just to make sure everyone else knows, too. Here, look at the pretty picture while I go and break up with our Dean of Medicine. I'll be right back." He leaves his lab coat and his tie on the floor before stepping out.
Wilson smiles, as he looks at a photo of his own pale skin with a small tattooed heart, the initials GH and JW written inside in ornate letters and the word Forever below. He hopes House will be back soon, because his crotch is really, really itching.