Post by Count Überquart on Mar 12, 2007 18:27:19 GMT
If you don't like House/Wilson, I don't care. I do. ;D
House limped as quickly across the lobby as his leg would allow, swallowing a Vicodin as he went. He knew he was backed up on clinic duty, and wanted to avoid Cuddy at all costs.
"Dr. House!" Cuddy's voice came from behind him. He flinched at the sound and turned.
"Good morning, Dr. Cuddy, and might I say you are looking very nice today?"
"You're three hours behind on clinic duty."
"Really, that pin brings out your eyes."
"You're not getting out of this."
House gave Cuddy a smile.
"You're not going to let me out of this, are you?"
"That's what I have been telling you."
"But, oh, how I love a challenge."
House turned away and began to limp towards the elevators.
"Oh, no!" Cuddy called from behind him, "You are going to do clinic duty, and you are going to do it now." She caught up to him and handed him a clipboard. "You have a patient in exam room one."
"The kid's got a cold," House glanced at the clipboard. "My work is done."
"We have a waiting room full of patients. You are not leaving until they are all gone. You had better get to work." Cuddy walked off before House could protest. He reluctantly limped to exam room one.
In the middle of one mother's detailed explanation of how her daughter's fatigue - or tiredness, as House interjected - could not be caused by staying up all night at a slumber party, House found his mind wandering, as it often did during the patients' futile speeches. He did not, however, dream of Cuddy's tennis outfit, or his next monster truck rally, but he kept gazing through the window at Wilson, who was busily explaining something to a group of student doctors at the nurse's station.
"Are you even listening to me?" the woman asked. House looked back at her.
"Of course. I am a doctor. I am paid to listen."
"What is wrong with her?" the woman asked anxiously, stroking her daughter's hair.
"It's something that we in the medical profession like to call Lack of Sleep. You can call it whatever you like."
"No, no, look..." the woman began.
"If you don't trust doctors, why are you here?" House glanced out of the window again, but Wilson was gone.
"Look, if she's ill..." the woman began again.
"She's not ill!" House exploded. "She is tired!"
The woman stood up and stalked out, throwing a look at the annoyed House. The girl dawdled after her. House sighed and looked at the phone. He popped a Vicodin, took the phone and dialled Wilson's number.
Wilson opened the exam room door and looked round.
"Come in, come in," House hissed urgently, putting away his GameBoy.
"Where's the patient?" Wilson asked.
"Shy."
"House. I'm busy," Wilson warned.
"Patient. Has trouble concentrating, inexplicably nervous around a certain male colleague," House continued, staring at the ceiling, refusing to make eye contact.
"Well, either he hurt her, or she is in love with him. You don't need me for this."
"I do."
Wilson turned back to face House.
"I do need you." House took his cane and limped over to the confused Wilson.
"I don't..." Wilson began. House leant over and placed his lips against Wilson's. He kissed him slowly, fumbling, then pulled back and looked into Wilson's eyes. Wilson gaped at him, his thick eyebrows lowering so that they almost covered his eyes.
"I have an appointment," he muttered, and left. House rolled his eyes to the ceiling and cursed. He swung his cane round, knocking bottles and packets off the surfaces around him.
"House! House! Wait up!" Wilson called as he ran down the stairs. House pushed his leg to move faster without looking behind him. He had successfully avoided Wilson all day, now if he could just get to his bike...
"Hey," Wilson sounded out of breath as he caught up to him. House said nothing. "Look, about earlier..." Wilson began.
"It was a mistake, forget it happened," House carried on pushing forwards.
"House, slow down. Your leg can't like that."
House said nothing, and continued at the same pace.
"I don't want to forget it, House."
House finally stopped and looked at Wilson.
"Then you're more pathetic than I am."
House walked the remaining few metres to his bike, climbed on and drove off, leaving Wilson stood, completely still, on the sidewalk.
There is more, but I'm not sure about it...
House limped as quickly across the lobby as his leg would allow, swallowing a Vicodin as he went. He knew he was backed up on clinic duty, and wanted to avoid Cuddy at all costs.
"Dr. House!" Cuddy's voice came from behind him. He flinched at the sound and turned.
"Good morning, Dr. Cuddy, and might I say you are looking very nice today?"
"You're three hours behind on clinic duty."
"Really, that pin brings out your eyes."
"You're not getting out of this."
House gave Cuddy a smile.
"You're not going to let me out of this, are you?"
"That's what I have been telling you."
"But, oh, how I love a challenge."
House turned away and began to limp towards the elevators.
"Oh, no!" Cuddy called from behind him, "You are going to do clinic duty, and you are going to do it now." She caught up to him and handed him a clipboard. "You have a patient in exam room one."
"The kid's got a cold," House glanced at the clipboard. "My work is done."
"We have a waiting room full of patients. You are not leaving until they are all gone. You had better get to work." Cuddy walked off before House could protest. He reluctantly limped to exam room one.
In the middle of one mother's detailed explanation of how her daughter's fatigue - or tiredness, as House interjected - could not be caused by staying up all night at a slumber party, House found his mind wandering, as it often did during the patients' futile speeches. He did not, however, dream of Cuddy's tennis outfit, or his next monster truck rally, but he kept gazing through the window at Wilson, who was busily explaining something to a group of student doctors at the nurse's station.
"Are you even listening to me?" the woman asked. House looked back at her.
"Of course. I am a doctor. I am paid to listen."
"What is wrong with her?" the woman asked anxiously, stroking her daughter's hair.
"It's something that we in the medical profession like to call Lack of Sleep. You can call it whatever you like."
"No, no, look..." the woman began.
"If you don't trust doctors, why are you here?" House glanced out of the window again, but Wilson was gone.
"Look, if she's ill..." the woman began again.
"She's not ill!" House exploded. "She is tired!"
The woman stood up and stalked out, throwing a look at the annoyed House. The girl dawdled after her. House sighed and looked at the phone. He popped a Vicodin, took the phone and dialled Wilson's number.
*****
Wilson opened the exam room door and looked round.
"Come in, come in," House hissed urgently, putting away his GameBoy.
"Where's the patient?" Wilson asked.
"Shy."
"House. I'm busy," Wilson warned.
"Patient. Has trouble concentrating, inexplicably nervous around a certain male colleague," House continued, staring at the ceiling, refusing to make eye contact.
"Well, either he hurt her, or she is in love with him. You don't need me for this."
"I do."
Wilson turned back to face House.
"I do need you." House took his cane and limped over to the confused Wilson.
"I don't..." Wilson began. House leant over and placed his lips against Wilson's. He kissed him slowly, fumbling, then pulled back and looked into Wilson's eyes. Wilson gaped at him, his thick eyebrows lowering so that they almost covered his eyes.
"I have an appointment," he muttered, and left. House rolled his eyes to the ceiling and cursed. He swung his cane round, knocking bottles and packets off the surfaces around him.
*****
"House! House! Wait up!" Wilson called as he ran down the stairs. House pushed his leg to move faster without looking behind him. He had successfully avoided Wilson all day, now if he could just get to his bike...
"Hey," Wilson sounded out of breath as he caught up to him. House said nothing. "Look, about earlier..." Wilson began.
"It was a mistake, forget it happened," House carried on pushing forwards.
"House, slow down. Your leg can't like that."
House said nothing, and continued at the same pace.
"I don't want to forget it, House."
House finally stopped and looked at Wilson.
"Then you're more pathetic than I am."
House walked the remaining few metres to his bike, climbed on and drove off, leaving Wilson stood, completely still, on the sidewalk.
There is more, but I'm not sure about it...
;D ;D
So many words about characters I know nothing about 
Congratulations upon completing this epic.