Football Fic: Down The Badger Hole
Nov. 11th, 2007 02:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
namasteTitle: Down The Badger Hole
Author: Namaste
Summary: The football bet gets more complicated once Cuddy hears about it. Spoilers for “Whatever It Takes.”
Part of the occasional fic series built around the prospect of House and Wilson betting on the football team at House’s alma mater, which began with Go Blue and continued in Hail To the Victors?, Tailgating and College Game Day
”Since when do you win if Michigan loses?” Cuddy asked.
Wilson looked at House. House shook his head slightly. “I was speaking metaphorically,” he said.
“I thought we were supposed to be watching a football game. This looks more like a tragedy.” Wilson looked over at House as the Wisconsin player scampered into the end zone.
House didn’t say anything.
“No, wait,” Wilson said, as Wisconsin pulled Michigan’s pass out of the air for an interception. “It’s more of a comedy, isn’t it?”
“More like a farce,” Cuddy said.
“No one asked you,” House said. “No one even invited you.”
“You’re in my office,” Cuddy pointed out.
“Better reception here.” House turned and looked at Cuddy. “And if I’ve got to kill time waiting for test results, it was either going to be here or the chapel, but some idiot wouldn’t let us watch there.”
“That’s because Father Thomas has services every Saturday afternoon.”
“Exactly. It’s a Saturday afternoon. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else? I hear there’s a one-day sale at Boudoir ‘n’ Bath.”
“I’d love to be anywhere else, but for some reason there’s a lot of paperwork involved whenever one of your employees poisons a patient.”
“One of your employees, you mean,” House said. “You were the one who insisted I hire a new team.”
“I wanted you to hire doctors. Not psychopaths.”
“Besides,” House pointed out, “you’re not even doing paperwork.”
Cuddy looked up from the TV screen and shook her head as Wisconsin made a field goal, extending its lead by another point to 37-21. “I’m taking a break,” she said, “and what’s wrong with using the doctor’s lounge? I seem to recall something about a plasma screen there.”
“Wilson hired an idiot,” House said.
“Jacobsen had it staked out for the Nebraska game,” Wilson said.
“And if Wilson had just fired him, like I told him to, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”
“I’m not firing a guy for watching the wrong football game.”
“Why not? I have.”
Cuddy and Wilson stared at him. “And when the paperwork alleging illegal dismissal comes across my desk, I’m going to pretend I never heard that,” Cuddy said.
“Cut two hours off my clinic duty, and I’m going to pretend I never said it.”
“One hour.”
“Done.”
Wilson watched the screen as the final seconds ticked down and the Wisconsin players stormed the field in celebration. “Damn,” he said. “But Michigan will still go to a bowl game, right?”
House nodded. “Probably, but will play a crappier team, so I win again.”
“But if Ohio State loses to Illinois ...”
“Wait,” Cuddy said, “since when do you want to see Michigan in a bowl game?” She turned to House. “And since when do you win if Michigan loses?”
Wilson looked at House. House shook his head slightly. “I was speaking metaphorically,” he said.
“No, you weren’t.” Cuddy looked at House, then at Wilson. Wilson looked away, got up and walked over to turn off the TV. “What’s the new bet?”
“Why would you assume there’s a bet?” House asked.
Cuddy just stared at him.
“OK,” he said, “so there’s a bet.”
“And?”
“Two hundred bucks, when Michigan loses their bowl game,” Wilson said.
“Wilson cooks, when Michigan wins their bowl game,” House said.
“You bet on Michigan winning a bowl game?” Cuddy asked. “I was right the first time. You’re an idiot.”
“Three meals a week, for more than three months,” House said. “He’ll spend a lot more on food than two hundred dollars.”
“OK,” Cuddy said, “maybe you’re not an idiot.”
“But the odds are in my favor,” Wilson pointed out.
“Yes, but, three meals...” Cuddy paused, then studied Wilson. “How can I get a piece of the action?”
“You can’t,” House said.
Cuddy ignored him, looked at Wilson. “A hundred bucks if they lose,” she said, “and all you’ll have to do is make it lunch for two once a week.”
“I don’t even like you,” House said. “Why would I want to eat with you?”
“I don’t want to eat with you either. Eat wherever you want. I’m just in it for the food.” Cuddy glanced at House for just a moment, then turned back to Wilson. “Come on. It won’t be that hard to make an extra serving.”
House pointed his cane at Wilson. “Yes it will,” he said. “Take her bet, and our bet is off.”
Wilson crossed his arms over his chest, looked from House to Cuddy and back again.
Cuddy leaned forward and turned toward House. “Tell him to go along with it and I’ll cut your extra clinic hours for lying to me in half.”
“Wait, don’t I have a say in this?” Wilson asked.
“No,” House said. He studied Cuddy, then turned to Wilson and lowered his cane. “The more the merrier, I always say.”
“So?” Cuddy asked.
Wilson took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out. “A hundred bucks?”
Cuddy nodded.
Wilson smiled, and held out a hand toward Cuddy. She shook it. “You’re in.”
Author: Namaste
Summary: The football bet gets more complicated once Cuddy hears about it. Spoilers for “Whatever It Takes.”
Part of the occasional fic series built around the prospect of House and Wilson betting on the football team at House’s alma mater, which began with Go Blue and continued in Hail To the Victors?, Tailgating and College Game Day
”Since when do you win if Michigan loses?” Cuddy asked.
Wilson looked at House. House shook his head slightly. “I was speaking metaphorically,” he said.
“I thought we were supposed to be watching a football game. This looks more like a tragedy.” Wilson looked over at House as the Wisconsin player scampered into the end zone.
House didn’t say anything.
“No, wait,” Wilson said, as Wisconsin pulled Michigan’s pass out of the air for an interception. “It’s more of a comedy, isn’t it?”
“More like a farce,” Cuddy said.
“No one asked you,” House said. “No one even invited you.”
“You’re in my office,” Cuddy pointed out.
“Better reception here.” House turned and looked at Cuddy. “And if I’ve got to kill time waiting for test results, it was either going to be here or the chapel, but some idiot wouldn’t let us watch there.”
“That’s because Father Thomas has services every Saturday afternoon.”
“Exactly. It’s a Saturday afternoon. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else? I hear there’s a one-day sale at Boudoir ‘n’ Bath.”
“I’d love to be anywhere else, but for some reason there’s a lot of paperwork involved whenever one of your employees poisons a patient.”
“One of your employees, you mean,” House said. “You were the one who insisted I hire a new team.”
“I wanted you to hire doctors. Not psychopaths.”
“Besides,” House pointed out, “you’re not even doing paperwork.”
Cuddy looked up from the TV screen and shook her head as Wisconsin made a field goal, extending its lead by another point to 37-21. “I’m taking a break,” she said, “and what’s wrong with using the doctor’s lounge? I seem to recall something about a plasma screen there.”
“Wilson hired an idiot,” House said.
“Jacobsen had it staked out for the Nebraska game,” Wilson said.
“And if Wilson had just fired him, like I told him to, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”
“I’m not firing a guy for watching the wrong football game.”
“Why not? I have.”
Cuddy and Wilson stared at him. “And when the paperwork alleging illegal dismissal comes across my desk, I’m going to pretend I never heard that,” Cuddy said.
“Cut two hours off my clinic duty, and I’m going to pretend I never said it.”
“One hour.”
“Done.”
Wilson watched the screen as the final seconds ticked down and the Wisconsin players stormed the field in celebration. “Damn,” he said. “But Michigan will still go to a bowl game, right?”
House nodded. “Probably, but will play a crappier team, so I win again.”
“But if Ohio State loses to Illinois ...”
“Wait,” Cuddy said, “since when do you want to see Michigan in a bowl game?” She turned to House. “And since when do you win if Michigan loses?”
Wilson looked at House. House shook his head slightly. “I was speaking metaphorically,” he said.
“No, you weren’t.” Cuddy looked at House, then at Wilson. Wilson looked away, got up and walked over to turn off the TV. “What’s the new bet?”
“Why would you assume there’s a bet?” House asked.
Cuddy just stared at him.
“OK,” he said, “so there’s a bet.”
“And?”
“Two hundred bucks, when Michigan loses their bowl game,” Wilson said.
“Wilson cooks, when Michigan wins their bowl game,” House said.
“You bet on Michigan winning a bowl game?” Cuddy asked. “I was right the first time. You’re an idiot.”
“Three meals a week, for more than three months,” House said. “He’ll spend a lot more on food than two hundred dollars.”
“OK,” Cuddy said, “maybe you’re not an idiot.”
“But the odds are in my favor,” Wilson pointed out.
“Yes, but, three meals...” Cuddy paused, then studied Wilson. “How can I get a piece of the action?”
“You can’t,” House said.
Cuddy ignored him, looked at Wilson. “A hundred bucks if they lose,” she said, “and all you’ll have to do is make it lunch for two once a week.”
“I don’t even like you,” House said. “Why would I want to eat with you?”
“I don’t want to eat with you either. Eat wherever you want. I’m just in it for the food.” Cuddy glanced at House for just a moment, then turned back to Wilson. “Come on. It won’t be that hard to make an extra serving.”
House pointed his cane at Wilson. “Yes it will,” he said. “Take her bet, and our bet is off.”
Wilson crossed his arms over his chest, looked from House to Cuddy and back again.
Cuddy leaned forward and turned toward House. “Tell him to go along with it and I’ll cut your extra clinic hours for lying to me in half.”
“Wait, don’t I have a say in this?” Wilson asked.
“No,” House said. He studied Cuddy, then turned to Wilson and lowered his cane. “The more the merrier, I always say.”
“So?” Cuddy asked.
Wilson took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out. “A hundred bucks?”
Cuddy nodded.
Wilson smiled, and held out a hand toward Cuddy. She shook it. “You’re in.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 02:32 pm (UTC)and it's all your fault. what's worse is, i am absolutely following The Bet, and i enjoyed every word. judging from the other comments, i know far too much about football--but the upside to that is, it makes this series just that much more amusing and enjoyable. makes me wish, also that florida would play michigan--i'd love to read about that match-up as seen through the eyes of house and wilson!! ;-)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 04:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 04:56 pm (UTC)ahhh... a cunning plan, nefarious in nature, designed to subliminally teach football to the unsuspecting masses... and to insure that my abode [almost said 'house', but then that gets all sorts of confusing...] stays dirty, and that i stay glued to the laptop, and actually start caring about another team, which is as torturous as thinking about adding another fandom to my
obsession withinterest in house!well--not only was that a helluva run-on sentence, it was amazingly effective practice in using html tags--if not capital letters!! ;-)