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Thirteen found House on the second floor of the atrium, leaning his elbows on the balcony railing, a glass of eggnog in his hand clasped between his hands. Like a real glass. There was a cinnamon stick poking out of it.
“There you are,” Thirteen started with irritated relief. “Look, the tests came back–”
“Shh shh shh shh!” House started, holding out a finger to her, looking down on the lobby below. “Not right now.”
Thirteen scoffed. “If you’re gonna poor eggnog on someone, that’s a pretty lame prank.”
“Tt,” House said. “Waste of alcohol. And this is for me, anyway. Momma needs a drink with her stories.”
Thirteen scrunched her nose at House calling himself Momma but approached the railing, looking over with him.
“Gossip mill tell you there’d be drama?” Thirteen guessed. “Christmas party’s tonight, there’s gotta be some surgical intern who brown-nosed too close to the sun.”
House snorted. “Probably. But that’s not what the TV Guide has scheduled for this slot.”
Thirteen hummed, scanning over the lobby. Sure, she had a minute. The patient could keep for whatever this was.
She mirrored House’s posture, her elbows on the railing, and reached for his glass so she could steal a sip. He let her have it, amused even if Thirteen wasn’t looking at him.
She pursed her lips in pleasant surprise at the taste. “Good ‘nog.”
“It was one my conditions,” House said, recovering his glass. “It’s never as good when I make it.”
“Which means Wilson lost a bet,” Thirteen said, a smile spreading on her face. “And had to make you one of his housewifey recipes to drink while you watch him commit whatever humiliation you could think of.”
House just hummed in approval, sipping his eggnog. Thirteen slid her eyes over to see his amused smile. his eyes bright with wicked glee and also with the deep love for Wilson he could never quite hide completely.
She bumped him with her elbow, extending her hand toward the glass. “Lemme get another hit.”
He snorted but passed her the glass.
While they waited, Thirteen did actually get around to telling him about the test results, and House didn’t seem surprised by any of it. He waved them away, reasoned out why his current diagnosis was still the frontrunner but he’d let Taub continue to do tests while the drugs he prescribed worked it out. Pretty easy work for now, all things considered.
They abruptly stopped their hypotheticals exchange when a commotion went up from the back of the lobby, directly underneath them.
Thirteen looked down to see something green and furry in a Santa suit come running through the atrium, making straight for the decorative tree at the front.
“No…” she started.
“Mhmm,” House said, taking another big sip of his eggnog in satisfaction.
When Wilson got his hands on the tree, he turned to look up at the balcony, his green face immediately going sour when his eyes locked on House. House lifted his glass at him.
“He’s really not doing much to conceal his identity,” Thirteen noted.
“He refused to let me do his prosthetics,” House lamented. “Didn’t trust me with spirit gum near his face.”
Thirteen nodded, shrugging her mouth. “Probably for the best.”
“E tu, brute?”
Wilson had turned his attention from them and started trying to gently but quickly dislodge the tree.
The front receptionists had started calling out to him, but no one had called for security yet. Thirteen thought she heard one of them tell someone to fetch Cuddy. Which was probably the better call for this moment but kind of spoke to how fucked up this hospital was.
Wilson managed to get the tree base dislodged from the skirt and surrounding fake presents but forgot to unplug it. He went to run and immediately got tugged back by the wire.
“Oooh.” Thirteen sucked air in through her teeth. “That’s gonna cost him some time.”
“And here comes the ref with the flag on the play,” House said, jerking his chin toward Cuddy’s office.
Cuddy came out, taking in the situation – Wilson, still wrestling with the plug for the tree – and her eyes immediately went up to the balcony.
Thirteen considered ducking so she wouldn’t be implicated but a) Cuddy could see through the railing and b) whether she was present or not, House’s team was never totally free from implication. But she was also not totally implicated. She had a weird job,
Cuddy saw House and slumped in resignation. House raised his glass to her as well.
She rolled her eyes and turned toward Wilson. Wilson turned to her, his hand still on the tree.
“What do you think he’s saying to her?” Thirteen asked.
“Probably making excuses. Blaming me.”
“And she’s telling him it’s a bad look for a Jew to come in and steal Christmas.”
House laughed, handing her his glass again in reward.
She took a sip. She wasn’t above a little praise. And it was very good ‘nog.
“Still hasn’t released the tree,” she noted, nodding at Wilson’s hand, almost casually gripping the trunk.
“Punishment’s not over yet,” House said. “He’s got to get out with the tree or be tackled trying.”
Thirteen snorted. “He’s already lost the bet, he’s already been humiliated. Why would he still–”
Before she could finish, Wilson had gestured again at House and when Cuddy turned to look, he made off with the tree.
He was through the doors and out of sight before Cuddy could call security.
Thirteen handed House his glass back and started clapping. “That crazy son of a bitch did it.”
House hummed again. love shining over his face in an embarrassing display.
Cuddy looked up at them again at Thirteen’s clapping and immediately made for the elevators. Thirteen could see where this was going.
“Well, I’ll see you later, boss!” She said, grinning. “Good luck with that. I’m going to check on the patient.”
She was halfway down the hall, before House could finish shouting “Coward!”
She cackled, wondering if she should intercept Wilson in the parking lot. Maybe he’d let her keep that tree.