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Mother Knows Best
by Taima Hiroshima
"Hurry up and get her dressed." James called from the front room. "They're going to be here any minute. The last thing we need is for them to think we're negligent."
"Who said we?" House shouted back. "I'm crippled. I have an excuse. You on the other hand, are just a weirdo who never should have had kids." James didn't respond to this last comment.
The grandparents were on their way over. James was frantically running through the house, cramming things in the closets, putting doilies on the coffee table, and generally trying to make it look like two men did not live there.
House had offered to help, but in reality, he had only been sitting on the couch, scooting stuff around with his cane. Now it looked like two college aged men lived there and had made a half assed effort to clean before their dates arrived. James, in frustration, had told him to go and clean up the baby.
Now this was something he wanted to do! House had been secretly afraid that Wilson would do this, and dress her in the most god awful frilly outfit he had bought earlier that day.
House lifted the infant from her crib. Leenie opened her eyes and blinked at him as he laid her on the changing table. She watched him as though he were the most fascinating subject in the world.
"Finally, I have my perfect little minion. Soon the world shall be ours!" he put on his best mad scientist voice. James popped his head into the room.
"I hope you're not already corrupting her. We haven't even had her a week, Greg! We can't return her either, so don't ruin her."
"I'll do whatever I like with my daughter. Here," he handed James the dirty diaper. The oncologist made a face.
"Oh sure, when it comes to molding her into an image, she's YOUR daughter. But when it's time to throw away a diaper, she's MY daughter." He grumbled.
"Sounds good to me!" Greg said cheerfully. He looked through the few outfits they had. Everything looked disgustingly Pepto Bismal pink or covered in lace. He was never sending Wilson out shopping again. Leenie screwed up her face to cry. House quickly put the diaper on.
"Shh, shh," He said as she picked up a little yellow onsie and slipped it onto her. She began to sob quietly. Sure enough, right in the middle of a howl, the doorbell rang. James rolled his eyes as he went and to answer the door.
"James! Hello, bubby!" a slightly nasally voice cried. House cringed. He cradled the baby as he carefully made his way out to the living room.
Sure enough, there was a stout woman with bright red hair. She had red painted lips and was wearing a blue outfit. She smelled heavily of perfume. She was hugged and kissing James as if there was no tomorrow.
"Hi, Mom." James sounded only slightly put out. He nodded to the man who had been standing next to Mrs. Wilson. He had iron colored hair, balding on the top. He was James's height, and Greg noticed they had the same eyes.
"It's good to see you, James. You are looking well." The man said approvingly.
"Thanks, Dad. You look good too. How's your heart?" the man was wiry thin, but he had the air about him that suggested he drank more than he breathed, and a pipe was never far from his side.
"This old thing?" he thumped his chest. "The doctor said it'll keep thumping for another twenty years."
"Oooh! A baby!" Mrs. Wilson squealed. House cringed. He knew it was coming. Everyone woman seemed to have that cooing voice that babies adored and anyone with their teeth hated.
"Mom, Dad, I wanted to tell you--." James began. Mrs. Wilson brushed by him as she held out her plump arms to receive the child.
"Hello, you little dumpling! Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" she gurgled happily, plopping herself down on the sofa to cuddle the baby.
"Please, Mom, have a seat." Her son said rather belatedly. House caught his eye, and James had to look away before he burst out laughing.
"Mom, she--."
"This baby is hungry. What are you trying to do, starve the poor girl?" she threw James an evil look. "Go and fix her bottle, bubby."
"Madeline, the boy doesn't like to be called bubby." Mr. Wilson touched her shoulder as he sat down. "Especially not in front of his friend." He nodded to House, who sat down in his chair. This was better than HBO.
"Oh, nonsense. To me, he is always our bubby." She waved it off as she expertly held the baby in one arm and took the warm bottle from James.
"I'm thirty eight, Mom. I think I'm a little too old be called that. Anyway, this is Samara Eileen. She's--." Once again, he was cut off.
"Samara!" both older Wilson's cried. Madeline probably would have clapped a hand to her chest, had they both not been full.
"For my mother? For Nana?"
"Yes, for Nana." He went a bit red around the ears. House swallowed and coughed, trying to hide his laughter.
"But, Mom, Greg and I--."
"I can't believe it! Isn't she just the spitting image of my mother, Paul?" Madeline nudged the senior Wilson.
"Spitting image," he agreed. When Madeline looked down to fawn over the baby, he rolled his eyes dramatically and shook his head. House coughed again.
"Greg, you might want to get that looked at." Madeline frowned.
"He's a doctor, you know. Anyway, what I really wanted to tell you was that Greg and I are together. Samara is our daughter."
"Oh, is that all?" Paul shrugged as he reached for Leenie's toes. "We've figured that for years now."
"She's your daughter?" Madeline whispered. "She's our grandbaby? We have a grandbaby!"
"You have several of them, Mother." James reminded her. She shook her head.
"Oh, their mother's are witches, all of them. But this one, yes this one is the child." She nodded at the babe in her arms, falling asleep.
"How did you go about making the baby?"
"Now, Madeline, I'm sure that's something the boys don't want to share." Paul said gently.
"Oh, but it's just a miracle of modern medicine now! I'd be so interested---."
"Mother! How about you make us some soup tonight?" James cut in loudly. "Greg and I were just saying that we haven't had a chance to make anything since the day before Leenie was born. Weren't we?" he looked imploringly at his boyfriend.
"Actually, I'd be more than happy to tell your mother about the process."
"Shut up," James said out of the corner of his mouth. "If you get her started on hospitals, she'll talk about Aunt Sylvia's colon cancer and we'll never get her out of the house."
Mrs. Wilson was already handing the baby to House while she bustled into the kitchen. His daughter shifted in his arms to a more comfortable position. Paul sighed when he heard Madeline hum.
"Well, James. We'd always hoped one of our kids would marry a doctor." James groaned and put his head in his hands.
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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 Fox Television, 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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