I do not own anything. All characters belong to their rightful creators.

So this is a Harry/SLASH crossover series of one shots.

WARNING: SLASH. Go back now if you don't like it. Not beta'd.

These are the crossovers I'm willing to do. I may have forgotten one or two or three and if you know I'll write them, you can go ahead and send me a message. But remember, just because I read some of the fics, doesn't mean I can write them as well.

Angel/Bones/BTVS/Charmed/Criminal Minds/CSI: Las Vegas/CSI: Miami/CSI: New York/Ghost Whisperer/Glee/House/The Mentalist/Merlin (BBC)/Mortal Instruments/Sherlock (BBC)/Supernatural/Twilight

No longer taking prompts.

Catzi has requested a Harry/House (House) pairing with the prompt: "Recovery"

House limped as fast as he could down the hallway of the Princeton Plainsboro teaching hospital, pushing past staff and patients alike in his haste. Despite needing the use of his cane, the man could move exceedingly fast.

"House!" Wilson dodged a man in the wheelchair, throwing an apology over his shoulder as he tried to catch up to his friend. "House!"

"Not now Wilson," House slipped round the corner and stuck his stick out to a maintenance worker walking the other way past him, causing him to trip and fall. "Don't you have some terminally ill patient to take 'care' of, personally?"

Wilson's mouth opened in outrage, but his attention was diverted with trying not to stumble over the man attempting to push himself back up onto his feet.

"See ya', Wilson," House slipped into an elevator and pressed down, holding up a smirk on his face for his friend when the door closed on him. When the metal slides were shut completely, House let it drop, jaw clenching in an attempt to control his emotions. The reason why he was rushing around was because of one certain person that had found themself in the ICU. That person who meant everything to House.

Not a minute later and House was on the move again, pushing past people until he finally reached one of the many occupied rooms. Pausing just outside, House gathered himself and arranged his face in order to not show what he was feeling when he walked into the room.

"Potter," House greeted the man lying on one of the hospital beds, "if you wanted to get my attention all you had to do was make a clinic appointment. I'm sure one of those chairs still needs breaking in."

During the rough doctor's speech, the patient, Harry Potter, was staring at him with wide and guilty eyes.

"Now," House moved further into the room and sat down on the plastic chair by the bed, "what have you got to say for yourself?"

"I love you?" Harry gave House an innocent smile.

House raised an unimpressed brow.

"Look," Harry sighed, wincing when he shifted and his arm was jostled. "I'm a cop, I'm gonna' get hurt at some point. It could have been a lot worse, and what's more, my supervisor has practically put me on desk duty."

"Good," House said and snatched one of the sandwiches that were on Harry's plate and lifted the bread to see what was in it. "Maybe next time you won't be so reckless."

"Pot calling the kettle black," Harry shot back, slapping at House's hand when it made to grab his Twinkie.

"I might be reckless, but at least I don't piss off a guy pointing a gun at me."

"Uh, actually, didn't you get shot in your off-"

"That was a one-time thing." House cut him off with a careless wave. He took a bite out of the sandwich, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the flavour.

"Speaking of one time things," Harry mumbled before raising his voice, "Hey, James."

"Harry," Wilson gave Harry a smile, eyes tracing over the bandaged shoulder critically.

"You took your time getting here," House said.

"Well, maybe if someone hadn't caused so much trouble on the way down here..."

"Well," Harry interrupted, "at least you both came to see me."

"Of course we would." Wilson said with raised eyebrows.

"Gotta' make sure you don't get into any more trouble," House shrugged, "knowing you, you'd do yourself an injury just sitting here."

"That's not true," Harry sulked, attempting to cross his arms over his chest but aggravated his wounds when he moved. He hissed.

"Case in point," House said dryly.

"Oh hush, you," Harry pouted, turning to glare at Wilson when the older man snorted at his behaviour.

"I didn't say anything," Wilson said and brought his hands up defensively, still grinning.

"Git," Harry huffed and snatched his cake away from House's wandering hand with his own good one. "And you, leave my Twinkie alone."

A lecherous smirk made its way on to House's face.

"Don't even think about saying anything," Harry ordered when he saw the man open his mouth to speak. From the doorway, Wilson shuddered.

"Aw, but I was only gonna' say that I love you," House mocked, his voice taking on a British accent at the end.

"You're a jerk," Harry accused and settled back on his bed. "I don't know why I put up with you, all you do is mock and belittle me."

"Because you're a masochist." Wilson put in before House could say something.

"That would explain so much," Harry sighed, dismissing House's scowl. "Would you save me, James, from my own masochistic ways?"

"And subject myself to House's wrath?" Wilson laughed, "no thanks, I do have some sense of self-preservation."

"Good Wilson," House said with a condescending tone, as if talking to a dog.

"Coward," Harry added with a sniff.

"Oh don't act like you don't enjoy my punishments," House leered.

"Oh God," Wilson pulled a face, "and this is where I leave before I get any more mental scars out your sex lives."

Harry and House both laughed; the former quickly stopping when the action irritated his ribs. House caught the brief look of pain on Harry's face and narrowed his eyes and glanced at Wilson meaningfully.

"Sorry, Harry," Wilson apologized, "but I have an appointment with one of my patients soon, so I need to go."

Harry quirked a brow. "All right, I'll see you later then. I'm sure Greg here is more than capable of keeping me distracted."

"With my magical healing hands," House winked.

"And that's my cue to leave," Wilson grinned. Before he turned to go, the Oncologist looked at Harry seriously. "Get better soon."

"I will, thanks, James," Harry smiled.

House saluted his friend and focused back on Harry's plate.

"Don't even think about it," Harry warned, wincing again as the pain medication became more ineffective.

House leaned over and pressed one of the buttons on Harry's monitor, and Harry realised that it was the morphine when the pain subsided.

"Thanks," Harry said with a sigh.

"What would you do without me?" House smirked and fished in his pocket for a familiar bottle of pills.

"How about suffer the wrath of the nurses in here?" Harry watched House pop a couple of his Vicodin. "They seem to be nicer to me because we're dating. Probably pity me."

House scoffed.

"Or they fear me."

"Yes, of course they do," Harry grinned at House's dark look. "What? You can't look at me like that, I'm injured, remember?"

"It was because of your stupidity that you're injured."

"I thought it was because I wanted to spend more time with you." Harry replied sweetly.

"I remember a time when you weren't so quick with your oh so witty comebacks."

"That was before you corrupted me." Harry touched House's hand lightly.

"You've never complained whenever I corrupt you."

"Why do you have to make every conversation suggestive?"

"It's a gift."

The two men were silent after that. Harry dozed off a little while later and House found the remote control for the wall television and watched it until Cuddy forcefully dragged him away, hissing at him about a new case his team found. House rolled his eyes and ignored the urge to glance back over his shoulder. Instead he made several degrading comments about her gender and delighted himself in once again crushing Cameron's happy mood.

I know, I know I should have posted long ago, sorry, but I have work now and getting ready for university. I'll try and update again soon. No promises though.