"Drink it down, drink it down, drink it down down down down down, drink it down!" The man at the piano sang in a clear, enthusiastic voice, playing an energetic riff and doing his best to try to erase the memory of seeing his friend puking from chemotherapy that morning before going back home and back to bed.
He finished the song to applause that he barely noticed and limped away from the piano back to the bar, ordering another shot of whiskey.
The barmaid said, "Somebody told me you're a doctor. If I have sex while I'm pregnant can my baby get pregnant?"
He opened his mouth to say something really nasty in reply when his cell phone rang. The ringtone was "No Myth" by Michael Penn.
He answered, "What, Cameron?"
The barmaid went to take someone else's drink order, completely oblivious of the insult she had just missed being on the receiving end of.
House sounded tired as well as irritated and took a sip off his drink. "You may look hot as a redhead but you're still annoying."
He disconnected. "I'm bored."
A strange-looking light shone through the one window in the bar, turning his blue eyes grey. He looked out the window towards the parking lot and his jaw dropped.
There was a small but genuine spaceship landing.
A tall, skinny, wild-haired man jumped out and made a beeline for the door, moving very fast for an old guy. He banged it open, burped loudly and yelled, "Hey, I didn't miss karaoke night did I!?"
"It's Friday, karaoke night's Monday," House replied. "What are you gonna do, time travel or something?"
"Fuck no," Rick shot back, "that's more trouble than it's worth."
A FEW HOURS LATER
"Cancer?!" Rick snorted. "All that Wilson guy has to do is take two of these three times a day and that's all she wrote." He pulled a pill bottle out of his coat pocket and pushed it down the surface of the bar towards House.
House stared in fascination, not at the bottle or the pills, both of which looked perfectly ordinary, but at the writing on the label. Or, more accurately, what was hovering a fraction of an inch above the label.
He wasn't even sure he could call it "writing". It was a series of three-dimensional abstract geometric holograph-like images in green, blue and purple.
"That's an alien (Burp!) written language. You even have to write in those exact shades of green, blue and purple or they won't understand it," Rick said as casually as if he were discussing the weather. "Their spoken language is even crazier if you can believe that. You have to have a tongue long enough to lick the back of your own head."
"I'm not quite there yet," House said, successfully sounding as casual, although he was actually kind of freaked out.
They walked out to the parking lot and Rick nonchalantly tossed the pill bottle into the back seat of House's car through an open window.
"One more thing. Be sure to tell Wilson to rinse his mouth thoroughly with water after every time he takes those pills. I don't want to deal with another invasion of the orange dachshunds who worship Geddy Lee."
A FEW WEEKS LATER
A spaceship zips through the sky, containing five people. Morty and a fully-recovered Wilson are making friends with eachother in the back.
Rick is driving with one hand, his other arm around his new girlfriend, Alison Cameron.
House, riding shotgun, yells, "Hey, wait! I can't find my Vicodin!"
Rick slams on the brake, causing the spaceship to do a brief spinout.
House grins. "Oh, whoops, it was in my other pocket," causing Rick to give him the hairy eyeball.
a/n for those of you who might be wondering what song House was singing and playing at the beginning of this story, here's a link: