"Between you and me...we could rule the world."
Author's Quick Note: If you've never seen the series, please check the author's comments below for picture references of the characters mentioned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dr. James Wilson sat at his desk slaving way at the mountain of paperwork that never seemed to recede. Checking boxes, changing medication doses, double-checking to make sure patient information was up to date, scribbling down a series of squiggles (just like all doctors did) that was suppose to be his signature; the usual. As he did his best to hack away at the tower of files, someone entered his office.
“What do you want?” he asked automatically.
Wilson didn’t need to look up to see who the visitor was. It was eleven in the morning. He always visited at eleven in the morning when he had a patient. Although, he’d never admit that he could be somewhat predictable.
“Why do you always assume that I’m visiting because I want something?” asked a husky voice in mocked indignation.
“Why shouldn’t I assume that?” Wilson answered still not lifting his gaze.
“Maybe I just wanted to chit chat with my best pal Jimmy.” The speaker slumped lazily into one of the wooden chairs across from the oncologist’s desk.
“You don’t chit chat and you don’t call me ‘Jimmy’. Those might be a couple of clues.” Wilson finally lifted his head, “What do you want?”
Dr. Gregory House shrugged dramatically, “Nothing.”
Wilson rolled his eyes and returned to his paperwork. 5…4…3…
“Who was that guy you were talking to?”
Damn! I was way off. Wilson stared blankly at the diagnostician, “What guy?”
“The guy you were talking to.”
“Well, that narrows it down,” Wilson replied sarcastically.
“Today.”
“Again, so very helpful.”
“The new guy.”
“How do you know he’s new?”
“I’ve never seen him before.”
Wilson snorted, “Yeah, cause obviously you know very single person who works here.”
“Who was he?”
“Who was who?!” Wilson asked getting irritated.
“The new guy you were talking to earlier today.”
Wilson smacked his forehead in frustration, “When?”
“About an hour ago.”
Wilson forced his now numb brain to remember.
“In the lobby, near the elevator,” House said attempting to help.
Wilson looked up, “Dr. Elmer Morris?”
House cringed, “That’s a horrible name.”
“That’s just mean,” the oncologist scolded although he couldn’t deny that fact. Still, it’s not very nice thing to say.
“So, who is this Elmer Fudd?”
“Morris,” Wilson corrected. “He’s a new doctor in the Radiology Department.”
“You two were being awfully friendly.”
Wilson could hear a slight bitterness in his friend’s voice. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” House answered. “I’m just curious.”
Wilson didn’t believe him but answered anyway, “He’s nice.”
“Christ,” House sighed annoyed, “why do you always describe people like that?”
“Cause they’re not you.”
“Seriously.”
“What? He is,” Wilson stated bluntly, then added, “He’s funny, too.”
“Oh, is he now?”
“Yes. He’s a nice guy with a great sense of humor. Easy to get along with.”
“I see.”
Wilson raised an eyebrow, “What?”
House stared back confused, “What do you mean ‘what’?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“Just curious as to why you were talking to him.”
“Well, see, I’ve decided you’re more trouble then you’re worth so I’m looking for a new best friend and Dr. Morris seems like a promising candidate,” Wilson replied with a smirk.
There was a silence as House stared back at him blankly. The smirk faded from Wilson’s seemingly young face.
“I was kidding, House.”
The older man’s brow furrowed in bewilderment, “Um, yeah, I know. Duh.”
“Well, you just sat there. You didn’t say anything.”
“What did you want me say?” he questioned through a laugh.
“Something snarky, something snide, something crude, make a face, roll your eyes, something you would normally do. Not just sit there expressionless. It’s creepy. Don’t do it again.”
House snickered, “I’ll be sure to remember that.”
Wilson opened his mouth to retort but a loud beeping filled the office as House’s pager went off. The medical genius checked the device then shut it off before replacing it on his hip.
“Well, that’s my cue to prove my brilliance,” he said standing to leave. “You know, cause the patient had a heart attack or a seizure or something of that nature. Glad we had this little chat. Ja ne!” House smirked as he shut the door.
Wilson blinked at the smooth shiny surface of the oak wood door. I’ve known that man for about twenty years now, Wilson reflected, and I still have no idea what’s wrong with him.
* * *
“Timmy! Get back here now!”
Little four-year-old Timmy giggled and ignored his mother. It was just too much fun running around the lobby. Just because his big sister Elli was sick, didn’t mean he should have to sit cooped up in a chair reading Bears In the Night by Jan and Stan Berenstain for the third time in a row today.
“Elli, sweetie, just lie down in Mommy’s chair okay. Here, use Mommy’s sweater as a pillow,” Mrs. Nita Johnson said tenderly, stoking her ten-year-old daughter’s chestnut brown hair.
Young Elli grimaced as a new wave of nausea swept over her and she silently prayed that she wouldn’t throw up in this crowded lobby. How embarrassing would that be! Nita left her ill daughter unattended but safe on the lobby chairs as she tried to chase down her son. However, trying to catch a four-year-old while four months pregnant is not exactly an easy task.
“Timothy Nathan Johnson! Stop this minute! I am not joking with you!”
Yay! Mommy’s chasing me! Timmy thought with delight. Now, the fun was really going start.
Nita gasped shrilly as the little whirlwind almost plowed through a CRN.
“I’m so sorry!” Nita apologized as Timmy kept going without even acknowledging what he almost did. “He’s usually so well-behaved.”
Nita continued her pursuit of her much faster son, panting heavily. Timmy’s eyes, which normally gleamed with sweetness and charm, now sparkled with mischievous delight as he rounded the side of the circular counter that stood in the center of the lobby. Just as he came to the next turn, two strong arms wrapped around his small torso as they lifted him off his feet and twirled him in a circle.
“Wheeee!” Timmy squealed with excitement. But he was disappointed when the spinning stopped after only one turn.
He looked down at the arms that held him. They were much bigger then his mother’s and were clad in a white coat. Timmy tilted his head back to see his captor’s face. His captor was a tall man with short black hair that had hints of grey. He had a thick black mustache, which was curved slightly upwards in a smile, and he had kind hazel eyes that twinkled with amusement. He reminded Timmy of his father.
“You shouldn’t cause your mom so much trouble,” said the man in a deep strong voice.
Timmy merely grinned.
“Thank you so much,” Nita panted, finally making her way over.
“No problem,” Dr. Elmer Morris replied as he placed the four-year-old back on the floor.
Nita pulled her son toward her giving him a very angry look.
“It’s times like this that I can’t help but wonder why I want another one,” she said with a wince of pain as she pressed her hand to her lower back.
“And then there are times when you think ‘well, maybe just one more’.”
Nita looked to the new speaker standing next to Dr. Morris. He was a young-looking doctor with caramel brown hair and a pearly white smile that came straight out of a men’s clothing catalog. She found herself fiddling with her hair, concerned about how she looked.
“Well, that’s how I ended up pregnant for the third time,” she replied trying too hard to be nonchalant.
Wilson laughed, “The same thing happened to my brother. Then after the third kid turned four they got a fourth little surprise.”
The third-time expectant mother laughed a little more openly then she meant to. However, her laughter was cut short by the sound of retching followed by a sickening splat. Poor Elli couldn’t hold back her nausea anymore and vomited all over the floor.
“Oh, Elli, honey!” Nita shouted as she rushed to her daughter’s side, dragging Timmy behind her.
As she got to her daughter, so did a CRN with a trashcan and some tissues. Another CRN at the counter paged the janitor. As Nita stroked Elli’s back soothingly, she couldn’t resist her compulsion to look back at the caramel-haired man. She couldn’t deny his good looks with his broad shoulders, full lips, warm soulful chocolate eyes, and body of a former athlete. Maybe he modeled to pay his way through college. She tore her eyes away from him, reminding herself over and over again that she was married and completely denying the fact that it’s perfectly natural to be sexually attracted to someone other then your spouse. Instead she forced rationalizations upon herself.
It’s just the pregnancy, she decided. My hormones are all screwed up. It happened every time.
Back at the nurses’ counter, Dr. Morris leaned on the counter and didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was watching Nita; she wouldn’t have noticed anyway.
“She thinks you’re cute,” he said in a low voice to Wilson.
“No, she doesn’t,” Wilson denied, his face turning pink.
“Really? Then why does she keep glancing over here?” Morris teased.
“She’s looking at you,” Wilson insisted.
“Well, considering I’m looking right at her and she hasn’t noticed and her gaze is slightly to the left and you’re to my left, I think it’s safe to assume that you’re the one she’s looking at,” Morris responded, amused by Wilson’s embarrassment. “She’s looking at you ‘cause she thinks you’re cute.”
“That’s not it,” Wilson persisted, the pink on his cheeks darkening.
“Then why is she looking at you? Or what is she looking at if not you?”
Wilson opened his mouth to respond but realized he had nothing to say so he shut it again. He hated when people pointed out these sorts of things. It’s not that he was unaware of it but he ignored it. He wished everyone else would.
“Don’t you think it’s interesting that he never has an answer for that question yet continues to deny it?”
Wilson’s eyes gazed towards the Heavens as soon as the voice spoke. Dear God, why me? Why now?
Dr. House leaned against the counter on the other side of Wilson; his cane hooked over his arm. Wilson swore he heard the CRN at the computer sigh irritably.
“And…you are?” Morris inquired as House reached across both doctors to slide the lollipop jar over to himself.
“Morris, this is Dr. House,” Wilson answered with a grain of salt as House rummaged through the jar looking for a third red lollipop. “House, this is Dr. Morris.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Morris said.
House didn’t return the polite phrase nor did he look up, which was normal to Wilson. After House found a fifth red lollipop, he finally looked up sliding the jar back to Wilson who slid the jar back to its place.
“So, you’re Elmer Fudd,” House said, unwrapping one of his lollipops and stuffing the rest in his black blazer pocket. Wilson cursed in his head.
“It’s Morris, actually,” Morris replied. “Considering I’m not hunting ‘wabbits’.”
House laughed purposely way too loud and way too hard for anyone’s comfort. “You were right, Wilson. He is funny.”
“House…” Wilson warned fruitlessly.
“I take it he’s famous around here?” Morris asked Wilson who just wanted to leave.
“Wilson’s my BFF,” House replied pulling the lollipop out of his mouth. Then he added suggestively, “With benefits.”
Wilson blushed, secretly wishing it was true, and replied, “He wishes.”
“So,” House began, eyeing his lollipop as though it was interesting, “why are you making friends with this guy again?”
“I can have as many friends as I want and I don’t need your approval, Dr. House,” Wilson retorted turning to face his friend.
House knew that when Wilson called him ‘Dr. House’ he was dangerously close to boiling point. Despite having this knowledge, House had a tendency to put his foot in his mouth. He rarely intentionally made Wilson angry (although Wilson was cute when he was mad), yet he always seemed to at least once a day. However, he did enjoy picking on him and getting him annoyed. Wilson was even cuter when he was annoyed.
“But you’re suppose to accept my opinion,” House said secretly trying to monitor what he said.
“I accept that you have one. It doesn’t mean I have to agree with it,” the puppy-dog eyed oncologist reprimanded.
“But I might see something you don’t,” House argued. He could argue with a brick wall and not care. House knew he shouldn’t push Wilson’s anger too far but he couldn’t stop himself.
“Well, then I’ll just have to make a mistake and learn from it like normal people,” Wilson replied with an emphasis on ‘like normal people’. His voice was becoming venomous.
“Well, you don’t really learn from your mistakes like normal people, now do you?” House snorted, re-emphasizing ‘like normal people’.
House popped his lollipop back in his mouth. He had pushed too hard – like always. Wilson’s nostrils were flared, his breathing was heavy, his face was red, and his eyes were shooting daggers. House knew that if he gave one more push, Wilson would give him the cold shoulder until he found a way to make Wilson forgive him. He always did but it was just a bit more then what House liked to go through. Wilson looked cute though.
“Is this a normal thing?” Morris asked finally interrupting.
Wilson closed his eyes and sighed irritably. He turned to Morris, “I’m sorry about this.”
“It’s fine,” Morris said patting Wilson on the shoulder. “I’ll just step away and let you take care of it.” Then he added with a wave to House, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Dr. House.”
“K,” House mumbled in return.
Morris left them and moved several feet away and began chatting with a male nurse.
“See, right there! He’s such a liar. He found no pleasure in meeting me,” House accused gesturing toward Dr. Morris with his lollipop.
Wilson smacked House in the arm with the file he was holding, knocking the lollipop right out of House’s hand. It sailed past the CRN at the computer and landed on the carpeted floor.
“Sorry,” Wilson muttered to her quickly.
The CRN peeled the wet lollipop off the carpet and plopped it in a trashcan like it was a dead cockroach.
House made a huge deal about his arm as he clutched it as though he was in pain, “OW! That hurt! And you made me drop my lolli.” House attempted to be as pouty as possible.
Nearby, a 16-year-old with the flu snickered.
House’s demeanor switched to pleased in an instant, “Luckily, I have more.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out another one.
Wilson bit the inside of his cheek to keep from showing even a hint of a smile. House had a great sense of humor sometimes. Sometimes it was horrible and cruel. Sometimes it was even adorable – like at the moment.
“Why do you always do that?” Wilson asked angrily although his anger was slowly fading.
“I don’t always drop my lollis. I usually eat them,” House answered in mocked innocence as he sucked away at the red candy.
“Every time I talk to a woman you humiliate me by publicly accusing me of trying to get in her pants - ”
“But you are.”
“It’s completely normal to have non-sexual relationships with the opposite sex. Then again you wouldn’t know what that means.”
“Non-sexual means ‘no sex’,” House said sarcastically.
Wilson rolled his eyes and continued his drilling, “And whenever I’m trying to make friends with somebody you do everything you can to either annoy them away or scare them off. Why?”
“’Cause you always seem to hang out with losers,” the diagnostician answered. Then he added, “Except me obviously.”
“Why do you care who I hang out with?” Wilson asked putting his hands on his hips in his characteristic fashion.
“I don’t,” House lied as he continued to suck away at his lollipop.
“Then why do you go out of your way to drive them away?” Wilson pressed.
“It’s fun.”
“You hate doing anything that requires a lot of work, especially if you have to go out of your way. You act like a jealous lover.”
House didn’t answer. He hated that Wilson could read him so well. He tried his damnedest not to let Wilson see that he was right. However, as Wilson’s expression softened in realization, House wished he could take back their whole conversation.
“You are jealous, aren’t you?”
House remained silent, twirling the lollipop between his thumb and index finger. He tried desperately to come up with a lie but there wasn’t anything he could think of that Wilson wouldn’t catch. Wilson stood watching his friend quietly, taking in the fact that House was actually blushing. He allowed himself a moment to notice how House’s flushed cheeks made his already outstandingly crystal blue eyes stand out even more. He felt his heart flutter about in his chest like a caged butterfly.
“Why are you jealous? What are you worried about?”
House didn’t answer.
“Are you afraid that I’ll like him more then you?”
You will.
“You think I’ll just abandon you completely?”
Yes.
“You think that just because I think someone’s ‘nice’ that I’ll like them more?”
Yes.
Wilson watched the stubbled doctor who refused to speak. “House, don’t be stupid.”
“Well,” House said, trying to sound as normally sarcastic as possible, “why hang out with an ass like me when you could hang out with a guy who’s actually nice?”
Wilson smiled sweetly. The bitter diagnostician felt the ice encasing his heart melt slightly. It happened every time Wilson smiled – or laughed. And also whenever any sort of physical contact was made, no matter how brief or minute. It was getting harder and harder for the ice to return.
“Greg, you have nothing to worry about,” Wilson said.
House raised an eyebrow suspiciously. He could hear a hint of mischievousness in the oncologist’s voice – that and there was usually a reason to be suspicious when Wilson called him ‘Greg’. Although, he found the playful twinkle in Wilson’s eyes incredibly sexy. Suddenly, Wilson flung his arms around House in a huge bear hug.
“You’ll always be my one true love!” Wilson said loudly in an extremely happy voice.
House hesitated momentarily. He wished he could stay in Wilson’s arms but he had to keep up his guise. He drank in the moment for another second or two then he forced Wilson off of him.
“The hell -” House exclaimed, making sure to sound annoyed.
Wilson released him laughing, then turned and walked down the hall toward the elevators. Morris fell into step next to him.
“And people say I’m the lunatic!” House shouted after them.
Wilson stopped and spun around. “I love you, too, Darling!” Wilson called back grinning and waving to House wildly.
Wilson and Morris stepped onto the elevators. As the doors closed, House couldn’t help but smirk. His smirk didn’t last.
“I sense a dark presence,” House muttered to himself.
He slowly turned around with dread and found just that. Cuddy was standing behind him glaring him down. She was obviously angry with him about something. What that something was House didn’t know or remember or care. He took a moment to admire the cleavage her v-cut blouse was creating. His attraction to her was purely physical. There had been a time when he liked her but that soon changed.
“House,” Cuddy started in a testy voice.
“Oh God,” House mumbled.
He leaned against the counter, supporting his head was his hand as he sucked away at his lollipop. He stared off into space as Cuddy began her rant or lecture; House wasn’t sure which but drowned her out anyway. He decided he should distract himself, not only from Cuddy’s boring and pointless chastising, but from thoughts of Wilson as well. Especially since today he was wearing that tie – the blue and pink diagonally striped one. It was House’s favorite. House wasn’t one to notice someone’s fashion (unless it was strange or exceptionally ugly) except when it came to Wilson – mainly because he spent so much time ogling him. Wilson almost always looked fantastic. ‘Almost’ because once he wore a mustard yellow tie with a black grid pattern and had the stupidity to pair it with a light yellow dress shirt with a dark yellow grid pattern. It was horrible and House had actually considered pointing out that yellow wasn’t Wilson’s color, but he didn’t want Wilson to know that he paid that much attention. But today was different. Today Wilson was wearing his blue and pink diagonally striped tie with a light blue dress shirt – blue was definitely Wilson’s color – and black chinos that made his rear and thighs look remarkable. House stopped himself before he fantasized any further since getting an erection right there in front of Cuddy would be a little awkward. Although, it’d be a very effective way to stop Cuddy’s ranting. House looked at the Dean.
“And another thing!”
Dear God! She’s still talking! House thought annoyed. He resolved to continue to drown her out.
I wonder what they’re serving in the cafeteria today. Did Wilson make his lunch? I’d rather eat that. Hmmm…
“And you’re going to have to stop –”
Who sang that song ‘Brick House’? Damn, that’s gonna bug me all day!
“I’m tired of having to sort out all the problems you cause!”
Um…Lionel Richie! That’s it.
“And on top of all that –”
She's a brick house / Mighty mighty just lettin' it all hang out / She's a brick house / The lady's stacked and that's a fact, / ain't holding nothing back. Heh. I always liked that song. Whatever happened to the good shit? What the fuck is up with this Fergie crap? I mean, why doesn’t she just write a song called ‘I’m a Stupid Slut Just Like My Buddy Paris Hilton’. At least she’d be being honest. I mean, sure she’s hot but I sure as hell wouldn’t go anywhere near that wearing rubber gloves and scrubs. With a friend like Paris Hilton, only God knows what she’s done and with who. Speaking of Paris Hilton, how the hell could anyone think she was hot? Her nose is the biggest thing on her face, she’s practically anorexic, and she’s completely flat chested. Not to mention she talks like she’s reading from a script constantly and tries to make herself sound like a twelve-year-old. Who the hell decided that was attractive? Huh. Is that silence I hear?
House chanced a look at Cuddy and she was indeed finished ranting/lecturing though still standing there with her hands on her hips looking angry. House threw the lollipop stick at the trashcan and missed then started walking away.
“House!” Cuddy yelled after him. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going to go to do something interesting and worth my time,” House answered nonplussed only slightly turning his head back to her.
“House! Get back here now!”
House merely made a waving gesture without even bothering to turn around before turning down a corridor.
* * *
Meanwhile, in the elevator, Wilson lost himself in his thoughts. House had no idea just how much he meant that ‘I love you’ and Wilson intended to keep it that way. What he had with House was fine the way it was. Besides, he knew House was straight. He only talked about women (and lesbians) in a sexual way and the only time he spoke that way about men was in a joking sarcastic way. Plus, House had never even been on a date with a man; except for Wilson but those were just House’s way of getting good free food or seeing a free movie. Wilson always liked to pretend in his head that they were on real dates.
Morris turned to Wilson, “Is he always like that?”
“Sometimes worse,” Wilson said smiling, “but he’s not that bad once he trusts you enough to let you be his friend.”
Morris gave a sort of ‘whatever’ snort. Wilson merely chuckled. As he pushed House from his thoughts, he took the moment to inspect the radiologist next to him. He wasn’t a bad looking man at all, although Wilson thought he’d looked much better without the mustache. Wilson had always preferred clean-shaven men, though House was an exception. Wilson cursed himself for bringing House back up and push him away again, refocusing his attention on Morris. He had lovely hazel eyes with just a hint of crows-feet at the corners. He was somewhat older then Wilson but not by much, probably about the same age as House. Wilson sighed, irritated with himself. He decided to take his mind off of House by starting a conversation with the radiologist.
“You did really well with that kid.”
Morris smiled, “Well, it helps when you’ve had practice.”
“Practice?” Wilson questioned.
“Yep. I have two kids of my own,” Morris replied. He raised his left hand to show Wilson the wedding ring on his finger.
“Ah,” Wilson muttered feebly forcing his smile to stay on his face. God damnit, Wilson cursed as the possible relationship died before it began.
“So,” Wilson continued, determined to keep up the friendly dialogue, “how long have you been married?”
“Twenty-five years.”
“Mazel tov,” Wilson congratulated.
Morris jerked his head toward Wilson and seemed to be in shock. “What did you say?”
“Mazel tov,” Wilson answered, nonplussed. “It’s Hebrew for congratulations.”
“I know, but why did you say it?”
“To…congratulate…you?” Wilson replied slowly, feeling really confused. “You know, to…express pleasure…in hearing about…your good fortune?”
“But why would you say it in Hebrew? Why not just say ‘congratulations’?”
“Force of habit?” Wilson said, forcing a laugh in an attempt to break the tension. “I am Jewish.”
Morris stared at him puzzled for a moment then turned to face the doors of the elevator. The doors opened and a nurse stepped off, leaving the two doctors alone. The uncomfortable silent tension made the small space feel claustrophobic. Suddenly, Morris turned back to Wilson.
“You do realize you’ll go to Hell, right?”
Wilson stared at the radiologist in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You have to accept Jesus as your Savior in order to get to Heaven. Jesus is your only chance for salvation,” Morris continued.
Wilson turned away from Morris. “I don’t believe this,” he muttered furiously.
“Look, Wilson, I like you,” Morris went on. “I think you’re a good person so I don’t want you to go to Hell because of that bullshit religion.”
“Bullshit religion?!”
“Yes! I mean, it’s bad enough that the Jews were horrible enough to kill Jesus in the first place, but then to deny that he’s the Messiah just makes everything worse.”
That was it. Wilson had heard more then he wanted to. “Listen to me you Anti-Semitic douchebag! First off, the Jews did not kill Jesus! The Romans did! Secondly, Judaism is the foundation of Christianity! The only major difference between the two is the view of Jesus – Son of God versus prophet! That and Jews don’t try to force their religion down people’s throats! And have you forgotten that Jesus was a JEW! Also, for your information, ‘Hallelujah’ is Hebrew for ‘Praise God’ and ‘Amen’ is Hebrew for ‘so be it’. So, in reality, you speak Hebrew almost everyday and in church and you have the Jews to thank!”
The doors of the elevator clanged open and Wilson made a hasty exit; almost running over an ER nurse. He was on the wrong floor but he didn’t care. He knew what he’d find on this floor.
* * *
House looked out over the classroom before him, his brain at work coming up with a new way to test what hopefuls were left to trample over each other for a spot on his team. There were only two spots left and five challengers. Big Love, Overly Excited Foster Kid, and Philanderers Anonymous were huddle together speaking in low voices so House couldn’t hear what they were saying but he didn’t need to. Judging by how they kept glancing at him, he knew they were trying to figure out what he was thinking and what challenge he’d give them and how they’d help each other survive through to the next round. Philanderers Anonymous was only keeping up with alliance to keep himself in the game and when it was down to the final three he’d trample over whichever one was left to snatch up the vacant seat. However, if all three of them somehow made it to the final round, Big Love and Overly Excited Foster Kid would sever their alliance with Philanderers Anonymous to make sure they procured both empty spots; they were too close at this point to betray each other.
The men had some stiff competition to contend with, however. One row up and three seats to the right of the men sat 13 listening to her iPod, probably trying to ignore the fact that she really did want to know her Huntington’s test results. All three men seemed to like her and if she had a problem with any of them it wasn’t obvious. Despite this, instead of relying on an alliance with anyone to get her through to the next round she depended on her own abilities with confidence. So far, it had worked for her. On the complete opposite side of the room sitting alone was Cut-Throat Bitch making notes on her notepad.
Probably trying to figure out the best way to get rid of each of them, House assumed.
Cut-Throat Bitch was hated by the other four because of how she got and kept her nickname. And, although House agreed (he was the one who came up with the nickname, after all), he couldn’t deny that she was a damn good doctor. None of them could, which is what made her all the more threatening.
On the other side of the room to House’s left sitting behind a second desk was Dr. Eric Foreman, a neurologist who had been on House’s previous team. He had been the last hired and the first to resign. He left out of fear that he was going to become House and, yet, he was fired from his position as Head of the Diagnostics Department (he had a team of three doctors) at some hospital in New York for doing something that House would have done. House found it highly amusing. Unfortunately, afterward, no one would hire him because he had worked for House. So, Cuddy had taken pity on him and convinced him to work for House again. Neither of them was happy with the arrangement but Foreman needed the income and House knew that this was one of those times where he couldn’t annoy or torment Cuddy to re-fire Foreman. House had tried to annoy and torment Foreman enough to get him to resign again but that had failed, so House had to deal with the fact that Foreman was back.
Suddenly, someone burst through the side doors causing everyone to have heart attacks and yanking House from his thoughts. Wilson stormed in and threw a folder onto House’s desk furiously. House picked up the folder and opened it. The patient had cancer and nothing more – nothing abnormal or medically interesting. House closed the folder and placed it back on the desk. He watched Wilson a moment as he stood there with his hands on his hips glaring into space, fuming. House didn’t like this angry Wilson. He knew it wasn’t him that Wilson was angry at; it had been someone else, and this offense, whatever it was, wasn’t one that could be easily forgiven. That didn’t sit well with House at all.
“So,” House said chancing the waters, “what’s up?”
“Morris,” Wilson breathed viciously.
“Ah,” House replied. He wasn’t sure if he should ask what happened but his curiosity got the better of him, not to mention the desire to make Morris’s life hell. “I told you he was bad for you.”
“You were right,” Wilson replied quickly.
House was taken aback. He wasn’t sure if Wilson agreed with House’s last statement or if Wilson hadn’t heard what he said and was merely informing House that he had been right. Regardless of the reason, for Wilson to admit that House had been right about something regarding social matters, something that Wilson far surpassed him in (probably since birth), was quite a shock. House had a feeling he’d be destroying a radiologist’s life in the near future.
“So,” House began, “what – ”
“The fucker’s Anti-Semitic!” Wilson spat venomously.
The change in temperament was so sudden and unsuspected that even House jumped. Without warning, Wilson began to rant and rave about the radiologist and his ignorance. He shouted, he gestured wildly, he looked at the ceiling as though to beg God for the understanding and patience to deal with Morris. His face was red, his voice was strained from all the yelling, his eyes were moist, his breathing was shallow; and House was surprised that Wilson hadn’t fainted from the sudden and immense rise in blood pressure. Finally, Wilson’s rant came to an end. He stood before House, breathing heavily with his hands on his hips. His eyes moist and red, stinging with tears but he wasn’t going to allow them to flow.
House was the first to cut through the heavy tension in the room, “Well, he’s not a good match for you.”
Wilson sighed, feeling exhausted, “What am I supposed to do about him?”
“There’s nothing you can do about him,” answered a female voice.
Everyone turned to Cut-Throat Bitch; Wilson knew her real name was Amber Volakis. She glanced around a moment then locked her big blue eyes back on Wilson’s big brown ones.
“I mean, with a guy that ignorant – it’s hopeless.”
Everyone was silent a moment before Overly Excited Foster Kid – Wilson knew his real name was Lawrence Kutner – chimed in, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but CTB’s right. People like that don’t change their views.”
“People don’t change period,” House reminded. “Anyway, they’re right. Just never talk to him again and don’t get so upset over it.”
“I’m more pissed off then upset.”
“Then – don’t get so pissed off over it.”
Wilson sighed and muttered a feeble thanks and began to walk out the door.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” House questioned holding up the folder.
When Wilson turned around and saw the folder, he eyes widened. “Oh, shit!” Wilson exclaimed, running back over to take the folder. “That son of a bitch made me so angry that I completely forgot that I had an appointment with Sam!”
House didn’t let go of the folder when Wilson grabbed hold it. “Who’s Sam?”
“The patient that you kidnapped because I stole your guitar.”
“Oh, that guy! You know, he’d prefer prettier nurses to give him sponge baths.”
“There aren’t enough pretty nurses to go around,” Wilson replied, trying not to smile.
“He also wants cable,” House responded, not wanting to let go of the folder.
He was enjoying, in a very strangely pleasant way, Wilson’s face softening – knowing that it was because of him. He was going to take his time staring at Wilson’s face. The oncologist was too beautiful for his own good. House would never look directly into Wilson’s eyes for too long though. Every time he did he forgot himself.
“The hospital can’t afford to give everyone cable,” Wilson answered.
“Then how come a coma patient gets cable but not a cancer patient?”
A smirk broke onto Wilson’s face; “I guess I’ll have to talk Cuddy about that.”
Their stand off lasted a few more moments before House finally let go of the folder. House felt his icy heart leap when Wilson smiled at him as he left the room.
“You stole one of his patients just because he stole your guitar?”
The disapproving voice rudely yanked House from his pleasant thoughts. House rotated in his desk chair to find a scrutinizing Foreman with a judgmentally raised eyebrow.
“Of course,” House answered with a matter-of-fact tone, “that’s how we flirt.”
Foreman rolled his eyes and muttered that he was going to get lunch. The other men followed while the women went back to their distractions. House sat there at moment, still trying to come up with a challenge for the hopefuls. He finally decided to grab some lunch as well. Maybe a Steakhouse burger would be just the brain food he needed. Wilson had told him they were delicious.
* * *
House stood in the third floor lobby with his team as they discussed their patient. The day had gone on pretty much uneventful; with the exception of House’s challenge to bring him Cuddy’s thong underwear. That and the fact that somehow Big Love – Kutner called him Jeffrey Cole – had actually succeeded. Other then that the day went on like a normal day, at least for House.
He hadn’t seen Wilson since he ranted in front of House’s team, so he assumed that Wilson had taken his advice and had been avoiding Morris. House, on the other hand, had made sure not to. Like in the cafeteria, when he “accidentally” tripped Morris so that he spilled chocolate pudding all over himself, and then House had “in surprise” dropped his bowl of fresh juicy sugar-soaked peaches on Morris’s head. Morris had to be excused from work to go home and change. Then, after Morris had returned, House “accidentally” filled his locker with itching powder – Morris had to go home again. House was sure that Morris was aware of who the prankster was considering Morris had given him a nasty glare as he passed House in the lobby on his way home. But if he had thought that House was done tormenting him, he had been sadly mistaken. After that, “someone” put pure cayenne hot sauce in Morris’s coffee and Morris had found his lab coat had been cut into strips. Of course, House couldn’t forget the moment when Morris sat in the sperm-covered lab chair.
Now, the day was winding down and House was distracted between trying to figure out how Cole had gotten Cuddy’s thong and trying to think of what other sinister thing he could do to Morris before he left so that he would turn in that night feeling pleased with his good deeds of the day.
“Hello, House,” said a pleasant and cheerful voice from behind House.
House turned to see Wilson pass by him with an amused yet grateful smile. He began to walk with the oncologist, who slowed his pace, and the Ducklings followed close behind.
“So, have you seen Morris today?” House inquired innocently.
“You shouldn’t be so horrible,” Wilson answered sarcastically.
“What makes you think it was me?”
“I confirmed my suspicions with Kutner.”
Before House could ask whom Wilson was talking about, Overly Excited Foster Kid spoke up.
“Sorry.”
House gave the younger doctor an annoyed glare then turned back to Wilson who was grinning.
“Thank you,” the oncologist said. “I’m flattered that you did this for me.”
House gave Wilson his annoyed glare. “What makes you think that it had anything to do with you?”
“Because it was Morris.”
“He’s just a new victim.”
“But only after you found out the things he said to me.”
“Coincidence,” House answered plainly.
Wilson laughed, “Well, anyway, thank you.”
“No problem,” House replied.
Wilson smiled brightly and turned, leaving the diagnostician with his team. Wilson’s on-top-of-the-world feeling was short lived, however, as he unexpectedly met up with Morris no more then five feet away from House. They were speaking in low voices so House couldn’t hear them but he knew they arguing about something. Foreman kept trying to get House’s attention so that they could discuss their patient but House just waved him off until Foreman finally fell silent. Wilson seemed to say something that should’ve meant that the conversation was over, but Morris wasn’t having it. As Wilson started to leave, Morris grabbed the oncologist by the crook of the arm and swung him back into place. And then it happened. Morris opened his mouth and the true filth from within came bursting out like a geyser of vile sulfur.
“Why did they have to stop the Holocaust? Why couldn’t they get rid of all of you?”
For Wilson, everything seemed to stop – time, sound, his heart. He stared at Morris in a true dumbfounded state. A person had never looked so horrid.
“Hey!”
This new voice sounded so distant that Wilson couldn’t even register who it was. Morris continued, his voice as clear as ice.
“Hitler had the right idea! He just got caught!”
“HEY!” the voice screamed.
Morris finally turned to the source, “WHAT?”
CRACK!
The handle of a black wooden cane came into contact with the side of Morris’s skull. The radiologist turned 180 degrees from the impact and crumpled to the floor unconscious. A small amount of blood began to trickle over his face from an already bruising dent on the side of his head. It took a moment for Wilson’s numb brain to register that it had been House who had stuck Morris. The security guards held onto House to prevent him from doing any more damage but, strangely, House wasn’t fighting back. Cuddy appeared from around the corner and, upon seeing Morris’s body, ran to his side.
“Call the code!” Cuddy shouted to the room.
To her surprise, no one looked shocked, upset, or even in a hurry to help Morris. They all seemed oddly satisfied. Finally, a nurse lazily did as Cuddy requested.
“What happened here?” Cuddy asked House frantically, then added to the guards, “Let him go.”
The security guards released House but stayed on either side of him. House didn’t say a word and merely glared maliciously down at Morris’s body. After several minutes of getting no answer from the diagnostician and Morris’s body was finally being taken away on a stretcher, Cuddy turned to Wilson.
“Wilson– Wilson?”
Finally, House looked over at Wilson. The oncologist looked at no one but House knew the signs. The lobby was not a good place for it. House grabbed Wilson by the wrist and dragged him past the security guards, into his office, and onto the balcony. As Wilson sat on the balcony’s parapet, House stared anywhere but at his friend. After a brief moment of silence, a feeble voice passed through Wilson’s lips.
“Why?”
“Some people are just dumb so just forget about it,” House answered quickly.
“But…”
House didn’t want to but he looked at Wilson anyway. Wilson was looking at him with those big brown eyes brimming with tears. Tears gently slid down Wilson’s cheeks one after another. House hated seeing Wilson like that; it wasn’t the Wilson he secretly loved so much.
“Puppy,” House muttered to himself.
“Huh?”
House sighed and sat down next to Wilson. He made sure to put more of his right leg on the parapet then the left.
“Look, there are going to be people who hate you. Not everyone is going to like you. I know you’re used to being liked and you work really hard to make everyone like you but it’s a fact of life you need to learn. There are going to be people who hate you for all kinds of stupid reasons. Some will hate you because you’re Jewish. Others will hate you because you’re white. Some will hate you because you’re an American, some will hate you ‘cause you’re a man, and others will hate you because you’re tall, exceptionally good-looking, kind-hearted, charming, and everything they wish they could be.”
House blushed as the last bit spilled out. He glanced over at Wilson who merely watched him curiously.
“Do you really think I’m all that?”
“Of course, I do,” House replied nervously. “I’d give up both of my testicles to be you for just one day.” Or in you at least, House added silently.
He heard Wilson laugh softly, almost as if he had heard the older man’s thoughts. House cleared his throat before continuing.
“Anyway, you can’t let things like that upset you so much.”
“But you just bashed the guy unconscious.”
“I only hit him once. Besides that’s different.”
House looked away but not before he saw Wilson smile kindly.
“I didn’t realize you were so protective of me.”
House stood up to leave. “Whatever,” he said blushing.
As House got to the door, Wilson spoke up again.
“Why did you call me ‘Puppy’?”
House turned, “What?”
“A few minutes ago you called me ‘Puppy’.”
House felt his face grow hotter. Think of something. Make up something, House thought desperately.
“Well,” he began, “you were looking at me with big sad brown eyes. You looked like a basset hound puppy, so I decided that would be your new nickname.”
Wilson stared at him confused, “What?!”
House began to whistle, “Come on, Puppy. Come, come.”
“I’m not a dog!” Wilson argued, walking over to House.
“But you obeyed,” House smirked.
As Wilson’s face turned bright red, House was vividly reminded of why he loved Wilson so dearly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 2: Possession (Coming Soon!)
Tell me what you think! ^_^
Report a Policy Violation
the news article as well as check out the individual pieces. We understand that each day you may not be able to check out each and every one of the pieces, everyone has their own things going on. We just ask that you make an attempt to help support the growing Literature community.
Follow us on Twitter
Become a fan on Facebook
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/House014.jpg){kind=link}
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/Wilson025-1.jpg){kind=link}
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/Cuddy004.jpg){kind=link}
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/007-3.jpg){kind=link}
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/010-3.jpg){kind=link}
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/untitled1-1.jpg){kind=link}
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/009-3.jpg){kind=link}
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/011-2.jpg){kind=link}
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/CutthroatBitch.jpg){kind=link}
![[link]](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://i108.photobucket.com/albums/n10/phoenixtsukino/Ch1-Protection.png){kind=link}
Comments
--
♥I Support House and Wilson's World Domination!♥
I love that House hit that ass
--
“I'm not afraid of death because I don't belive in it. It's just getting out of one car, and into another.”
John Lennon
--
♥I Support House and Wilson's World Domination!♥
--
“I'm not afraid of death because I don't belive in it. It's just getting out of one car, and into another.”
John Lennon
--
♥I Support House and Wilson's World Domination!♥
--
I want to chase the butterflies
Much love for: ~ShiveringMoon
Co-Founder of ~Amaranth-Portal
Administrative Assistant at ~Hollow-Hearts-Org
~WhimsicalBreeze ~ Artistan Crafts account. (Stuff fo' sale!)
--
♥I Support House and Wilson's World Domination!♥
incredible, write more Hilson
--
~ - One pairing to rule them all - ~
--
♥I Support House and Wilson's World Domination!♥
Previous Page12345Next Page