Title Wants and Needs
Rating PG-13
Pairing House/Wilson; some House/Cuddy and Wilson/Cuddy
Word Count 1,838
Spoilers This is written as a pseudo-alternate version of season three (only because I'm too impatient to wait for the season to end and start from there), and some events occur in the story, although a little jumbled up, so yes and no to there being spoilers.
Summary House can walk and Cuddy wants Wilson's sperm. But nothing's ever that simple, and, of course, you can't always get what you want. Oh, and a definitely-lesbian Julie Whitner appears as a recurring character.



Wilson manages to wake up on time, like clockwork, and slips right into his morning routine; he has been staying at House's apartment since the shooting, just like good old times (and not-so-good times). Although he doesn't hear House moving around, Wilson assumes it's either because the man hasn't gotten up yet, or he went running. Wilson's mouth curls into a fond smile at the thought of House being given another chance at life and all of the naturally juvenile activities he's taken up.

Once Wilson finishes breakfast, he can't help but raise an eyebrow at House's still missing presence; he feels a little worried, but pushes the feeling away since he knows he's just being selfish and wants to eat breakfast with House. The look of pleasure House will have after the run will more than make up for it missing over a plate of pancakes. So, instead, Wilson sits down to eat by himself and read the newspaper.

House is still missing when Wilson has finished eating; he washes the dishes then to procrastinate, not wanting to head to work without seeing House first, then wonders if House has actually decided to go somewhere on time. He peaks out of the window, but both House's motorcycle and car are there, as well as Wilson's car.

Maybe House is just taking a really long run, Wilson tries to tell himself.



Cuddy is looking for an interesting case for House's first day back, when the devil himself barges into her office, just like any other day. Except that today, he doesn't have a cane, but he does have a lot of sweat. Normally, she would make a smart remark about that, but seeing an apparently pain-free House joyfully panting in the middle of her office made her mind go blank and smile stupidly.

When he snatches away her bottle of water, Cuddy snaps back to reality. “Did you run here?”

“Just eight miles,” he answers breathlessly. He takes a sip from the bottle.

“And what was the purpose in that?”

“Wilson was chasing me. He's scarier than you when he's mad.” House finishes off the water and tosses the bottle back to Cuddy, who is still a bit too dazed to catch it. “Got any cases for me, boss?” She smiles again and offers him a file, which he finds suitably bizarre and leaves, hopefully to take a shower first.

Now that Cuddy thinks about, where is Wilson? Just then, the phone rings.



Before House barely sets a foot instead the diagnostics department, the three fellows are welcoming him back and plastering on smiles as if he doesn't piss them off nine times out of ten. All House wants to do is get back to work; after three months of running laps and being cooped up with Wilson, he is craving a case as much as he craves vicodin. Used to crave, he reminds himself, because he doesn't need it anymore.

Cameron is predictably annoyed at House's insistence to carry on as normal, while Chase tries a little too hard and slaps him on the shoulder. House gives him a long glare to ensure that will never happen again. Foreman, as always, hangs back after his initial welcome, drinking coffee and feigning disinterest in his boss's recovery.

After House practically does the differential on his own, he sends his minions out to do their thing, and Wilson enters just as they are leaving, appearing noticeably annoyed. “There you are,” House greets. “Enjoy your extra beauty sleep this morning?”

“Yeah, except for the part where I was worried about you, and you wouldn't answer the phone.” House notices that Wilson places his briefcase on the table before stealing some of his department's coffee; he obviously came here, first thing.

“Sorry, mom,” House says with a little eye roll, “but you have to accept that your little boy is growing up. Thirty years ago, in fact.”

“Keep laughing at my concern.” Wilson tries to say it with as much annoyance as he felt a few minutes ago, but he quickly melts into a smile; House is fine, and that's all that matters. He turns to face House and takes a sip of his coffee. “If I'm the mom, does that make Cuddy the dad?”

“A dad with great breasts. Is that weird?”

“Just a little.” Wilson drinks some more of his coffee, and then starts awkwardly, “Did you, ah, know that Cuddy's been trying to get pregnant?”



“Changed your mind, Cuddy?” House asks unnecessarily loud when he barges into her office. Cuddy rolls her eyes; he's been back for less than an hour and they're already back to the old routine. There's even a witness for her to be embarrassed in front of.

“Yes, I should have left you in a coma, then everyone's life would be easier.”

“Zing!” He says, leaning over the woman seated in a wheelchair across from Cuddy.

“You must be the great Dr. House,” she says, utterly unimpressed with him. “I'll talk to you later, Dr. Cuddy.” House holds the door open for her to leave and Cuddy raises an eyebrow at this seemingly polite act.

“Nice wheels,” he shouts.

“Nice bald spot,” she shoots back, not missing a beat. House turns back to Cuddy with an approving smile.

“What are you here for, House? Is the patient's pancreas going to explode because his brain is on fire and you need to dig up his great grandmother for an autopsy to diagnose him?”

“Sure, I could take one of those, too,” he says. “I was talking about hitting up Wilson for a cup of love. Love being a euphemism for sperm.”

Cuddy gives only the slightest eye roll. “What, are you jealous?”

“Yeah, I'm jealous of you,” House repeats incredulously.

“I meant about being the donor, but that's an interesting train of thought.”

“Oh, Cuddy, you're better than flinging accusations of homosexuality. You being a closet tranny lesbian and all.”

“I asked you first, you turned me down. Isn't that good enough for your ego?” Cuddy asks, ignoring his comments. “If you don't have anything to say that relates to your job, you can go now.” She waves her hand dismissively.

House turns the handle on the door, but then looks back at Cuddy. “This isn't going to work the way you want it to. Wilson cares too damn much. His mothering instinct is going to come out full force once the kid's born just because he doesn't have the sense to knock up someone he's actually – you're smiling. Why are you smiling?”

“If Wilson has any mothering instinct after taking care of you, that would be amazing. I think you are jealous,” she teases.

“You're right. My life would be so much better if I got impregnated by a pathologically caring employee. I'm going to look for Cameron and do just that.” Cuddy would have taken their exchange as being run-of-the-mill, but House slammed the door when he left. What could be bothering him now?



After the patient has suffered three life-and-death situations, House decides to go have lunch to get away from the fellows and to think, and as a bonus, possibly annoy Wilson. When he gets down to the cafeteria, he immediately notices Wilson sitting with a blonde – always with the blondes. House stays put and watches them from the corner of the room.

“Stalking someone, Dr. House?” A voice says behind him; it's the woman from Cuddy's office.

“Looks like you're the one stalking me,” he replies, not taking his eye off of Wilson.

The woman follows the direction of his gaze, and a smile forms on her face. “Are you looking at the doctor or the nurse?”

“Why not both?” House says with a shrug. “Stay away from that Dr. Wilson, though. He loves everyone. He's probably in love with that nurse already. If he sees you, he might decide he's in love with you, too. Beautiful relationship blossoming over there.”

“Well, there's nothing you should worry about,” the woman says with a grin, “considering he's chatting up my girlfriend. The doctor's all yours.” She wheels her way in the direction of Wilson and the nurse; Wilson greets her as if he's met her before – probably has, the suck up – and lets the two women go without the slightest look of regret.

“Barking up the wrong tree there, Dr. Love,” House says, startling Wilson with his sudden appearance.

“I was just talking.” Wilson's voice goes up a few pitches as he says this. “Wendy and Julie are new to the area. There's nothing wrong with being friendly.”

“No, just when friendly is code for hot lovin'. And a blonde named Julie? Come on, Wilson, you can do better than that.”

Wilson decides for once in his life not to dignify something House said with an actual response. “The blonde one is Wendy.”

“You already know too much.”

“Why are you bothering me, anyway?” Wilson decides to just change the topic to make him shut up already.

“It's time for you to feed me, why else?”



In the end, it turns out the patient had a toothpick lodged in his system; House solved the case, but the answer was boring, so he sends Foreman to talk to the patient and get weepy -- House would figure out one of these days how Foreman grew a heart over the summer. He takes the chance to slip out of the hospital without doing his clinic duty, and waits at home for Wilson.

“This pasta is atrocious and why are you enabling Cuddy's baby rabies?” House asks abruptly over dinner and bad television. Wilson almost chokes on his food. “And you weren't going to tell me. Whatever happened to bros before hos?”

“You didn't tell me when she asked you,” Wilson manages to get out after some stammering.

“I see, I see. Lying is bad, unless someone lied to you first. Eye for eye does what now?”

“Cuddy needs this.”

“No, Cuddy needs sperm, not necessarily yours.”

Wilson's eyes narrow in that way they do right before he launches into an amateur psychoanalysis. “Why are you so interested in where I put my sperm?”

“You're both being idiots, that's why,” House spits. “Do you really believe you can handle watching Cuddy raise half your DNA on her own? You're going to rush in and try to help the damsel in distress, and just over complicate the situation.”

“I just love your insights,” Wilson says sarcastically. “Suppose that does happen. Why would that bother you? Other than being the idiots we already are, of course.” Wilson finishes eating and takes the plate into the kitchen to wash.



“You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes
You just mind find
You get what you need”

You Can't Always Get What You Want
~ Rolling Stones