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A Visitt From St. Nick
by gena
A Visit From St. Nick.............
Gregory House rolled over and groaned. He'd planned on sleeping through Christmas day like he usually did but something had woken him just after midnight. He knew it wasn't Wilson , he'd been there earlier but headed over to some party thrown by an old college friend which House took as code for he was going to have wild sex with an old girlfriend. He lay still, holding his breath as he listened for whatever sound to be repeated. He was on the verge of telling himself he'd imagined it when it came again. Adrenaline surged through his veins and he reached blindly for his cell phone. He had Wilson 's number on speed dial and he knew his friend would rush back over to make sure everything was okay if he called. His hand closed on empty space and House had a vision not of sugarplums but of his phone lying on the coffee table in the living room.
"Damn," he muttered and heaved himself to his feet as quietly as he could. He picked up his cane, glad it was nice and sturdy, crept to his bedroom door and peered out into the hallway. He saw nothing at first but after an agonizing moment a bulky shadow passed across the hallway and he heard the faint rustling of clothing. House calculated the odds and knew he could never make it to his front door and out to his bike unseen. He could lock himself in his bedroom and wait for morning but the thought of some idiot making off with his stuff spurred him to an uncharacteristic confrontation.
"Hold it right there!" House shouted and snapped on the light. For a full five seconds neither he nor his intruder moved, each sizing up there other. House had never expected to find Santa Claus in his living room, he'd been three when his father told him Santa was a lie parents told their children and he knew it had to be true because his father never, ever told lies. A surge of anger rushed though him and he finally broke the stalemate. "Dressing like Santa and stealing from cripples, that's probably the lowest thing ever."
The intruder scowled at him. "First off, I am Santa and secondly I was bringing you a present." He shifted his bag and glared at House. "You've been on the Naughty List for nearly thirty years and I know you don't believe in me, but you've been through a lot and there are several people who have asked that I remember you with a bit of Cheer."
"Right." House glanced at the coffee table and saw his cell phone hadn't been stuffed into the bulging sack over the fat man's back. "Just step away from the DVD player, that's not mine."
" Wilson bought himself a new one," Santa informed him.
"How did you - oh, this is one of Wilson 's little pranks, isn't it?" House edged towards his phone but a strange thing happened before he could grab it. Santa snapped his fingers. That wasn't the strange part - no, the weirdness happened just after that and it happened in the form of a sparkling Christmas Tree. House was pretty sure of two things; one that Wilson hadn't set this up, and two that the magical appearance of a living Christmas Tree in his apartment meant he had ingested too many drugs.
"And before you even think it," Santa said in a stern voice, "this is not a hallucination caused by your rampant drug use." He winked at House. "I'm not a prude, you know? Me and the elves had been known to inhale." House was actually kind of delighted to find his round little belly did shake like a bowl full of jelly when he laughed. "Here's the present I was bringing to you when you were three," Santa reached under the tree and pulled out a small gift wrapped in silver paper. "That was the year you believed your father when he said I didn't exist." House stared at him. "Take it."
House unwrapped the present, not daring to believe until the shiny compass fell out into his hand. "This one was when you were fifteen," Santa said and fetched another gift. It was larger, square and flat. "I admit it's not from me, but I was delivering it." House took the second gift, remembering that at age fifteen they had been in Germany , spending Christmas Eve packing because they would be heading to Iceland the next day. It had been a miserable time, he'd almost made a couple of friends that time but leaving meant he'd never see them again. He could still remember lying in the darkness of his bare room, eyes stinging as he asked someone - anyone to care about him. The colorful paper parted to reveal a photograph, a trio of laughing boys, his own face in the middle. Peter and Heinrich. "Peter wanted you to have it."
"You really are Santa," House whispered. The world felt as if it had suddenly toppled off its axis and gone bouncing through the MilkyWay. He didn't know what a person should do when confronted with a mythical being, whether he should shake hands or ask for ID or just called the nearest asylum and reserve a room. Instead, being House he said, "You should lay off the sweets, I bet your cholesterol is sky-high." He peered at the man's face, "and with that ruddy complexion I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't hypertensive. When was the last time you had a physical?"
"Wh-what?" Santa blinked in confusion. "I'm Santa, I don't get sick."
"I'm a doctor," House pointed out, he took Santa's arm and led him to the couch. "Do you ever get dizzy, sudden hot flashes? How `bout sneezing? Constipation?" Santa began to look rather concerned. "I'm sure it's nothing," House soothed, "but maybe you should take it easy tonight."
"I can't!" Santa tried to stand up but House pushed him back down. "I'm only over the Eastern seaboard, I have the whole US to do before dawn."
"I'm not busy," House said. "I'll do the present delivery for you."
"You will?" Laying his finger aside of his nose, Santa gave a nod, "Okay. I think it might be good for you." He pointed to the sack, "there's a list inside of everyone and what they get. The reindeer know the way and all you have to do is call them by name to get them moving." He unbuttoned his coat and tossed it to House.
House gestured at his cane. "Is this going to be a problem?"
"No, most places have met the ADA requirements," Santa explained. "Oh, and don't try going down any chimneys, I did that my first year and almost suffocated when some idiot started roasting chestnuts." He blew out an exasperated breath. "You got any cookies and milk?"
"Sure, chocolate chip," House said. He had the coat and hat on and was holding the pants. "Milk's in the fridge." Santa padded barefoot into the kitchen while House struggled into the baggy red pants and shoved his feet into the boots. "I think I need a belt." He cinched them up with a cord he found on the desk and stared down at himself.
Santa reappeared munching on a cookie. "You look pretty good." He settled onto the couch and flicked on the TV. "Just be back here by dawn, House."
House nodded, hefted the sack and looked at his fireplace. "Guess I better take the back stairs." He found he could move fairly well despite the voluminous outfit, his leg gave him no trouble at all and getting up the narrow stairs to the roof only made him eager for the trip. Up in the moonlight House caught sight of a sleigh and in front of it eight smallish looking animals. He'd always pictured them as big, brawny type things, but it turned out Dasher, Dancer and the gang were kinda small. Still, if Santa could do it, so could he. House climbed on board the sleigh, picked up his whip and cracked it loudly. "Hey, Vixen and Comet, run Blitzen and Dancer, fly away Prancer, try not to vomit - uh, Cupid you lover run like the wind, dash away, dash away, dash away all!" The reindeer turned to look at him but with a collective roll of their eyes heaved themselves into the air.
"Holy crap!" House shouted and hung on. The earth dropped away as if he'd been launched from a slingshot and he had one moment of panic when the deer made a wide circle and headed back towards the ocean. "Wrong way you crazy mooses," he admonished and hauled the reins around until they were back over Princeton . He spotted a familiar hotel and with a cry of glee managed to land the rig on the roof. "I'll just be a second," he told the reindeer and scrambled down. His cane made a scuffing noise on the gravel but that was the only sound that would have given them away. House found the door down with little trouble and made his way to room 403.
"You asshole!" Wilson groused, "I was asleep." House pushed passed him, his eyes sweeping the room for signs his friend wasn't alone.
"Where's Cindy Lou?"
"Who?"
"Exactly," House said with a grin. "Didn't you pat her head and send her to bed with her cup?"
"Did someone spike your eggnog?" Wilson asked. He sank down on the side of the bed and glared at his friend. A frown superseded the glare. "Why are you dressed like Santa?"
"Because my Superman outfit is at the cleaners, now get dressed."
"No way," Wilson said. "I'm tired and I want to sleep."
"You can sleep any time. I'm on a mission and I need an elf." Wilson 's expression changed from annoyance to one frozen with concern.
"House, how many pills have you taken?"
"Doesn't matter," he said and delved into a pocket for his Vicodin. He shook the bottle menacingly. "I have more. If you don't keep an eye on me tonight I don't know what might happen." Wilson chewed the inside of his lip but House knew he wasn't really thinking it over, Wilson would never let him roam around unsupervised when the felt House was acting strange.
"Promise me we won't get arrested this time," Wilson begged. "My parents still talk about the time they had to bail us out on Chanukah." House merely laughed. Wilson sighed, drew on his jeans and shoes, buttoned up his coat and followed his best friend out the door. "Why are we heading for the roof?"
"It's where I left the sleigh," House explained in measured tones. He could practically here Wilson freaking out. "I figured the hotel wouldn't want reindeer if they won't take dogs," he went on.
"So, you're dressed as Santa and you have a sleigh full of toys for good girls and boys," Wilson said. House smirked at him over his shoulder.
"Afraid you aren't on the list?"
"Jewish, remember?"
"Don't worry, Jimmy," House said with a wink, "this year I'm in charge and you're gonna get that Barbie Dream House you've always wanted." He flung open the door to the roof and felt his heart sink. There was no sign of the sleigh anywhere, nothing but a few scuff marks in the gravel. "I left it right here!"
"Uh huh," Wilson said. "Let's go back down and I'll tuck you into bed," he said, gently taking House's arm, "you can have visions of sugarplums dance in your head."
"There they are!" House exclaimed and pulled away. Wilson just looked at him until House pointed towards a shadowy shape on the other side of the air-conditioning unit. "Now hop aboard, we have to get done by dawn." He limped towards the sleigh and settled himself on the seat. Wilson stood where he had left him, mouth dropped open in a very unattractive way. "Get a move on, elf-boy or else I'm dumping you for Orlando Bloom."
"This - I - what - how -"
"At this rate you'll never be chose as spokesman for the Canadian education system," House snapped. "Get your ass over here, Wilson ."
Wilson obeyed, slipping onto the seat and holding on as House cracked the whip and the reindeer leapt forward, heading for the edge of the roof. "OH SHIIIIIIT!" Wilson screamed. He clutched at House's arm, "We're gonna die!" With a swoosh the reindeer, the sleigh, the bag full of toys, the diagnostician, and the oncologist were all borne high into the night sky. A moment passed, then two, and finally House was able to pry Wilson 's fingers off his arm before circulation had been lost forever. "We're not dead," Wilson said, wonder and delight shining in his eyes like tears.
"Not yet," House agreed. "Now make like an elf and get the List." He indicated the bag. Wilson reached around and pulled out a rolled bundle of paper. He had just untied the ribbon that held it together when House, spotting an approaching jet, yelled, "Hold on!" The sleigh rose like a rocket, air whistled by and Wilson could only watch as the List unfurled like a flag, fluttered for a moment and disappeared behind them.
"Uh, House," he said once the sleigh had been righted. "The List is gone."
"Gone?"
Wilson peered over the side, "Yep. Gone."
"Guess that's good news for nasty little bastards the world over, huh?" They flew on for a couple of minutes then, "Okay, just grab something and we'll give this a try." He coaxed the reindeer down towards the rooftops while Wilson fished in the bag for a present.
"Wonder what it is?"
House shrugged. "What's it matter? We have a chance to shake up perceived gender roles. When Billy gets a Cabbage Patch Preemie maybe he'll be a better father when he has kids and if Sally ends up with a little tool kit maybe she'll figure out she's just as capable as some muscle bound mechanic at fixing her own flat tire." House gave Wilson a scathing look, "Besides it fun to screw with the brats. Mommy and Daddy have probably gone bankrupt buying a bunch of expensive crap anyway."
"Does it work like that?" Wilson asked. "I thought Santa only brought toys for the kids who believe, and who don't get presents from their parents."
House frowned at that. "Just drop the damn thing when I tell you." He maneuvered the sleigh over a small bunch of houses. "Now!" Wilson dropped the gift and it disappeared down the chimney.
"It worked!" Wilson grinned at him. "Let's do another one!" They took turns dropping presents and watching them slip through chimneys, windows, under doors, and through vents but after about twenty minutes the novelty began to wear off.
"Here, take the reins," House ordered and handed them over to Wilson while he turned around to grab a present. Wilson managed to hold the reindeer on course even as he craned his neck to see what his friend was doing. House had several wrapped gifts in his arms, and was busy unwrapping them. He discarded most with a casual fling, sending them spiraling down onto the city but at last he gave a gleeful chuckle. "Okay, head for Gardner Park."
"That's - that's where Cuddy lives," Wilson pointed out with unease. "Why are we heading there?"
"Because Cuddy's been a very good girl this year," House said and made it sound so dirty Wilson was forced to close his eyes in defeat. However, he opened them quickly enough when House shrieked like a little child and began babbling the words "skyscraper" and "imminent death". They made it to Gardner Park without further incident until Wilson guided the sleigh into a holding pattern and shot House a curious look. House grinned and pulled a doll from the sack, wrapped it in a shawl and dangled it over the side of the vehicle like a scruffy stork.
"NO!" Wilson screamed and made a wild grab from the doll. "You can't, House!" The reindeer, now without anyone at the helm, flew into disarray, part of the team pulling to the left, part to the right causing the sleigh to begin to wobble and tip. Packages cascaded out, tumbling, plunging, and plummeting down over homes near and far, borne on the wind they drifted this way and that only to fade through windows, doors and chimneys.
No one had ever seen Santa's sleigh crash before and thank goodness there were no one witnesses to the tragedy this time either but crash it did. The skinny faux Santa lay draped over Dasher's back while the handsome elf sat stunned in the branches of a barren oak tree. "Did you have to try and kill us?" House asked glaring up at Wilson.
"Cuddy would have anyway," Wilson explained. He gingerly lowered himself to the ground and scraped House off the reindeer's back and onto his own feet. The team shook off the effects of the accident and as if they'd had enough, took to the skies.
"Hey!" House shouted, shaking his fist at the traitorous deer, "get your asses back here. You're still on the clock!" House screamed as the deer flew out of sight, "I hope you all crash mid-flight!" For several long moments the two men stood staring up at the speck growing smaller and smaller in the sky. "This has been a very unusual night," House finally admitted.
"Very," Wilson agreed.
They began the long walk back to House's place only to stop when a small voice called, "Santa?" Wilson dragged House to a stop and squinted up at a window overlooking the crash site. A tiny girl stood at the open window, her eyes sparkling , her cheeks rosy from the cold, and an angelic smile on her dimpled face. "Santa, I left milk and cookies for you," she said in a shy voice. "Did you bring me the doll I wanted?"
"Of course not, you spoiled - "
Wilson clamped a hand over House's mouth, "Uh, I'm Jimmy the uh, elf," he explained. "Santa hit his head when we crashed so he's feeling a bit woozy. Thanks for the milk and cookies but we best get back to the North Pole."
"Screw the milk and cookies," House shouted, breaking away from his keeper. "Santa wants bourbon and Cheezits and hot monkey sex with Jimmy the Elf!" Wilson dragged him away still shouting. They rounded the corner before Wilson let him go and pulled out his cell phone. "Who're you calling?"
"Taxi," Wilson explained. "If we're having hot monkey sex I want it to be soon and I don't want you exhausted and cranky from having to walk."
The taxi deposited them at 221B less than twenty minutes later and Wilson handed the driver the fare and an extra large tip for putting up with House singing x-rated versions of Christmas carols. "Come on Nat King Cole," he said and helped extract House from the taxi. They paused on the sidewalk, each slightly apprehensive about going inside to face Santa. "So you think Santa's going to understand about the sleigh?" House asked.
"Sure, it could have happened to anyone," Wilson reasoned.
"Yeah," House said, "and it was your fault anyway."
"What? I never -"
House held up his hand, ticking off points as he spoke, "You lost the List. You caused me to hand out packages willy-nilly. You were driving when we crashed and you should have grabbed the reindeer instead of messing around with me!" He looked extraordinarily pleased with himself.
Wilson glared at him. "Just wait until I tell Santa what you said in front of that little girl." He started for the door but House tripped him with his cane and stepped on him.
"Santa, we're home!" He shouted. The room was silent and still, lit only by the glow of the gigantic tree near the fireplace. "Maybe he fell asleep," House guessed. Wilson picked himself up and hobbled inside. There was no sign of Santa, just the tree and a large stack of presents with both their names on it.
"Hey, look," Wilson called. Sitting on the piano was a plate of sugar cookies and two glasses of milk, beside them was a note written in an elaborate hand.
Dear Boys,
Thank you for your help, it's always the thought that counts. I've taken the sleigh and will finish the route on my own. Don't worry about my suit, I have a million of them. I've left you the presents you would have gotten all those years if you'd believed in me, Greg. And for James I've left the things you want him to have. Don't look for me next year, boys, as you have earned yourself a place on the Naughty List for some time to come. I'll let you know when you're forgiven. Until then -
Merry Christmas
Love, Santa
House glanced at Wilson who was looking a little green, "I think I should unwrap my gifts first." Wilson merely nodded but when House reached for the buttons on his coat he grinned. "I always wanted hot monkey sex for Christmas."
"All I want," Wilson said and leaned in to kiss House, "is you."
They didn't hear the sound of a loaded sleigh zoom overhead at the speed of love or the jolly old man shouting - "Holy shit - what the hell is wrong with you reindeer? Left, I said, left! Damn, we're gonna need a map."
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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