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House's Favorite Fantasy

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It was a long-standing fantasy of his. He wouldn't have been talking about it at all, except Wilson had brought the good beer and Thai takeout. Somehow they'd gotten to fantasies. He has no idea what prompted this line of conversation from his friend, but watching the man squirm under his own embarrassment was almost entertaining.

Wilson's fantasy was fairly tame and, if possible, more vanilla than House's. Which, of course, meant House had to tease him a little. Or a lot. He even pointed out how dull Wilson was by choosing something so utterly mundane.

"Come on, fantasies should be things you've always wanted, but sure you'd never get," House said.

"Fine," Wilson countered, "what's yours?"

House emptied his third beer and reached for another. "Mud wrestling. Cameron, Stacy and Carmen Electra. They battle it out in a lovely mix of dirt and water, wearing nothing but tiny bikinis." He was rather proud of this fantasy. It actually hadn't changed much over the last several years. Minor tweaks to details, but the main plot points remained unchanged.

"And what are you doing during this athletic display?" Wilson asked, more curious than he was letting on.

"Watching. Maybe officiating." At the confused look from Wilson, he explained, "Someone has to make sure they're not breaking the rules."

Wilson sighed. "Of course." Then he had a thought. "How long have you been harboring this little gem? And does your girlfriend know that she's part of it?"

"If she doesn't know she's in my fantasies by now, I think we have bigger problems." House wasn't really trying to stall on the other question, but he wanted Wilson to think he was.

"Right. But does she know she's part of this long-established fantasy of yours?"

"You mean the one I've had pretty much since the day I hired her?" House asked just to get a reaction.

Wilson spluttered his beer. (That would do.) "What?"

House rolled his eyes. "Does it really shock you that I've had a fantasy about Cameron and Carmen facing off, getting all coated in slippery mud to determine which of them gets to square off against Stacy?"

Wilson swallowed a lump in his throat. "Well, maybe a little." He coughed and chased it with beer. "Makes my simple 'the brunette nurse from the third floor in the university pool' seem particularly tame by comparison."

"Not if it's during standard pool operating hours," House offered with a leer.

"You… you are terrible," Wilson chastised and opened another beer.

"I'm learning to be adventurous," House offered with another pull of his beer.

"What's next, sex while skydiving?"

House frowned. "Why would I participate in an insane activity that requires me to land on both feet? Next you'll have me vaulting at the Olympics."

"Right. Let's stick to mud wrestling and getting thrown out of the university pool."

"Only get thrown out if you get caught," House reminded him.

"I stand by my original statement – you're terrible."

House shrugged. "No one seems to be having a problem with it so far."