Glue: Chapter 3
Nov. 4th, 2008 09:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
verbal_kintChapter Three: Wilson’s Worst Date
“What do you mean it doesn’t mean anything?!”
House is standing now, out of anger that isn’t really anger, and exasperation that gives him more entertainment than grief.
“I mean,” says Wilson, who stands as well, staring at nothing in particular through the dark, “the note doesn’t mean anything. It’s a note. Nothing happened. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“’It’s a note.’ Well yes, that just completely restores my confidence in you. You and Lisa the…hooker? Secretary? Maid?” House smiles. “Hospital administrator?”
Wilson nods, “Yeah.”
House elbows Foreman (maybe Chase) in the ribs playfully. “Ooh, all of the above. Wilson, you sly dog.”
Wilson tilts his head and frowns like a strict mother of the ‘60s. “It’s Cuddy, and it’s not what you think.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Because your mind only functions for one subject other than diagnostic medicine, and even then the other subject gets in the way.”
“What can I say—rare, life-threatening diseases are sexy. So is Cuddy, to you, obviously.”
“No she’s not!” Wilson splutters, running a hand through his hair. “I-I mean, yeah she is, uh, attractive, b-but I’ve never—that’s not to say, uh—“
“You called her ‘Lisa’. Nobody calls Cuddy ‘Lisa’. I’m not even sure she knows it’s her name.”
“House, that’s why I threw the note away. I made a lot of mistakes on this copy.” Wilson snags the paper from House’s hands and throws it away…again.
“Wow, now I’ve forgotten what the note says. It’s as if it never existed in the first place!”
Chase scoots closer to Foreman. “What d’you say we look for more light bulbs before House starts using his cane as a bo staff?” he whispers.
House taps his cane against the floor audibly, daring Wilson to follow the noise a bit closer. “And who the Hell messes up an entire name? It’s not like you meant to write ‘Brian’ and wrote ‘Brain.’ Writing ‘Lisa’ was a choice, just like using a note instead of email, just like using floral stationary.”
Foreman puts his face somewhere close to where Chase’s ear might be, and murmurs, “Okay, let’s find the light bulbs.”
Wilson laughs maniacally, a sound the others wouldn’t mind never hearing again. “You, you think that because I didn’t email it, and I used stationary—that it somehow means I’m in love with her? House, I know you know her email password. No way in Hell would I email it! And the floral stationary was because all the other stationary pads I have are from hospitals. What would you rather me use, ‘St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital—we be illin’? House…nothing is going on between Cuddy and me.”
“So, you’re saying you simply made a lot of ‘mistakes’ on this copy, that just happened to imply that you and Cuddy have a secret romance serious enough to be house-hunting? That it’s not ‘Oops, I’m boning my boss?’”
“Yes! And we’re not buying a house. I didn’t even mean to write ‘house.’”
House stops tapping his cane and smiles. He wishes he could see Wilson’s expression as he speaks. “You were thinking about me.”
Wilson lets his shoulders rise into their normal posture as a smile passes his lips as well. “Yes House, I was just thinking how nice your scratchy face would feel against my lips.”
Foreman stops short of the light bulbs (the position of which he’s completely oblivious to). “Do you two…always talk about stuff like this?”
“Oh not it’s not just talk.” House wishes someone could see his wink in the dark. “Jimbo and I follow through.”
Chase slaps a hand to his face. “Too far.” However, he’s still smiling.
Wilson points to House and leaves his other hand on his hip. “Are we…going to address how jealous you just were?”
House mocks the position he assumes Wilson is taking, winding up with his legs spread as wide as his thigh allows and his hands perched on his hips. The fact that he gets this close to being right is oddly disheartening. “Are you…going to tell me why you thought of me while writing this if it’s not because you’re boning our boss?”
“Ah, so you are jealous!”
“Ah, so you are evading the question.”
“Ah, so are you.”
“Ah, you’re running out of things to say, Wilson.”
“It’d seem that way, wouldn’t it?”
“Found them!”
This last voice doesn’t belong to House or Wilson, nor does it come from the ground. House grabs the penlight from out of his pocket and shines it up.
“Ow!” says the voice, which is now clearly coming from Foreman’s mouth. “Get that out of my eyes!”
House lets the light linger for a moment before letting it drop a few inches below Foreman’s nose. “Sorry, just trying to identify the strange being who lurks on high shelves in janitor’s closets. I’d heard rumors it existed, but…”
“I was looking for light bulbs so you don’t kill us in the dark.”
“Technically, I can aim better in the light.”
“Great,” says Chase, “so now you’ll be happy.”
“I was happier in the dark…if you know what I mean.”
He’s answered by three long sighs.
Foreman grabs a light bulb and leans to the other side of the footstool he’s balancing on. “Hey House, can you hand that penlight to Chase?”
“Why, don’t you trust me?”
“No.”
Wilson reaches a hand in the direction of House’s voice. “Here, give it to me. You want me to point it at the old light bulb?”
Foreman meanders around syllables for a bit, stopping somewhere in between “Um” and “Actually…”
Wilson puts his other hand on his hip, now unconsciously in sync with House. “You don’t trust me either? It’s a light Foreman, I’m not going to shoot laser beams out of the tip.”
“You just tackled me!”
“I had a good reason.”
House eases himself down to the ground with a wince. Being in the dark did have its perks.
“Speaking of which,” says Chase, pulling the penlight from Wilson’s angry grip, “when you stole the note back from Foreman…did you say ‘psych’?”
Wilson tugs nervously at his tie while he frowns in concentration. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I did.” He chuckles. “I guess I always wanted to say something like that, but never got the chance.” He sits as well, his dimples slowly emerging from his cheeks as he smiles. This is as badass as Wilson’s going to get.
“Okay, hold it a little to the left.”
Chase obeys Foreman’s order while House and Wilson gaze on from below. “So I guess this answers the question of how many doctors it takes to change a light bulb,” says House.
“Four,” says Wilson, “Two to do it, and two to make this joke while they’re doing it.”
“So, you gonna tell me why you ‘accidently’ put my name on your love note?”
“I told you, it wasn’t a love note.” Wilson draws in his knees, trying to keep the Pine-Sol off his last square inch of pant leg. “It was a birthday note.”
“Cuddy’s birthday isn’t until—“
“For you.”
House stops and squints. “Yes, nothing cleverer than sending a birthday card to somebody who’s not having a birthday.”
“Every time we plan anything for your birthday. You always find us out before we get a chance to celebrate.”
“What’s to celebrate? I’m another year closer to dying.” He tilts his head. “Okay, I can see a need of celebration there.”
“So this year,” says Wilson, folding his arms and sitting up, “we decided to write notes so we wouldn’t get caught. As you can see it’s been a huge success.”
Suddenly, House can see the sarcasm as well as hear it.
“And let there be light.” Chase turns off the penlight just as Foreman starts descending the footstool. Chase puts the penlight in his pocket, and sits down next to the door, which for the first time in a long time, he can see.
Foreman kicks the footstool aside and sits down as well. They all blink repeatedly, getting used to the light once again, remembering how to use their briefly forgotten sense.
“AH!” yelps House.
The rest look up anxiously. “What?”
“Nothing, just forgot how ugly you all are. Except Chase, of course.” He casts a wink in Chase’s direction, coming to the conclusion that making others uncomfortable is significantly easier in the light.
“Well,” says House, “now that that crisis is averted, Wilson has something to say.”
“I do?”
“What did you mean to put instead of ‘house’?”
Wilson slaps a hand to the back of his neck nervously. “I…it’s a surprise.”
“Well then, I doubt you’ll mind me ‘surprising’ my fellows with some more secrets from the drunken mind of Dr. Wilson…”
“Wait!”
House smiles. Wilson doesn’t.
Wilson waves a truce with his hands. “Okay, okay. Um, it’s not what it sounds like. Well, it is, but not in the sense that—“
“Just tell me what it is!”
“I meant to put ‘cage.’”
“Cage?”
“Yeah, cage.”
“Nicolas Cage or creepy, bondage, ‘let me feed you dog food’ kind of cage?”
“I’m…gonna have to say neither,” says Wilson. “It’s a surprise, House, so there needs to be just a little bit of surprise.”
House shakes his head. “Well frankly, I’m a little disappointed. I thought you knew everything about bondage…”
“Don’t, House.”
“Well, almost everything.”
“House.”
“Apparently not enough to use a safe word.”
Wilson throws his arms up as shows the ceiling his bitterly complacent grin. “Why? Why now, House? After I just told you—“
“The funny thing is,” House interrupts, “you could’ve gotten away clean had you not reacted so…guiltily over my exposing your bondage injury.”
Foreman raises an eyebrow as he sinks Wilson’s confidence. “He’s got a point.”
Chase, however, seems to struggle in connecting Wilson to bondage in any way, shape, or form. “You got hurt…from bondage?”
House rings in with a grin as he scoots closer to Chase and Foreman. “Two broken ribs.”
“House, will you shut up?!”
“Can’t now, Wilson. They’re expecting the story: Wilson’s worst date.”
Wilson looks over the faces of Foreman and Chase, who do, in fact, seem to be waiting for a good fleshing-out of “his worst date.” He sighs and scratches his head. Then he waits, listening for any signs of life outside the closet and momentarily forgets that it’d be a good thing rather than a mortifying thing.
“This doesn’t leave this closet,” he says.
Nobody even thinks of interrupting him.
“It was my sophomore year at McGill. My girlfriend and I had been going out for over a year, so we were…you know, experimenting. So one day—Argh, I can’t believe I’m telling you this!”
“Just finish the damn story!” says House.
“One day she sneaks into my dorm with about ten feet of rope.”
“Oh God,” groans Foreman.
“You still lived in the dorms?” says House.
“Yeah, lots of people stayed a few years. Anyways, it was Thanksgiving, so my roommate was visiting his family, and it was snowing, so nobody was going to pop in for an unexpected visit. We…had the dorm all to ourselves. So she starts tying me up, and things get a little heated…”
“Wait, wait,” says Chase, eyeing Wilson carefully. “She tied you up? As in, Wilson: the oncologist who’s worn a pocket protector since age 7?”
“Well, I didn’t wear a pocket protector that night.”
The three other guys let loose some encouraging whistles.
“I was…young, I was—“
“Horny?” adds House.
“…Yeah.” Wilson laughs nervously. “So I was tied up from my knees to my shoulders, and then she starts getting in on it…All of the sudden I hear a key at my door. Needless to say, I freak out, try to make a break for it. Only problem is now we’re tied together. So I go to my left and she goes forward, we end up spinning off the bed just as my roommate walks in saying that his flight was cancelled because of the snow! We had to lie there, naked, with concussions and a collection of other injuries while my roommate called for an ambulance.”
Wilson finds himself talking louder and louder over the laughter.
“The ER called my parents, and uh, told them what happened.”
Chase buries his face in his palm as he shakes with laughter. He lifts his head up, gasping, “What’d your girlfriend do after that?’
“We…stopped seeing each other.”
Wilson wishes the lights were off again.
So does House, who closes his eyes and leans his head against the trashcan when the laughter finally subsides.
Nobody talks for a minute, willing the mental image of Wilson tied up like some overzealous snake charmer out of their heads.
Every so often, Chase still cracks a smile.
Wilson scoots closer to House as inconspicuously as is possible in a cramped closet with two other people staring at you. He doesn’t quite look House in the eye, as doing so would be expecting House to do the same. Instead, he asks the broom handle about three inches above House’s head, “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” House speaks automatically, as if he possesses the same skills in precognition for this question as Wilson possesses in knowing when his food will be stolen.
Wilson leans up against the shelf behind him. This time, they match each other intentionally. “Your phone wasn’t the only thing you left in your jacket, was it?”
House shakes his head, keeping his eyes closed.
Wilson eyes Chase and Foreman with something resembling resentment. And though it isn’t, he can’t shake the feeling that they should know by now not to look at House like that. House can sense pity like a shark to blood.
“When was your last pill?” Wilson asks, reminding himself to look away from Chase and Foreman.
House shrugs. “Two and a half or three hours ago. I’ll be fine.”
The ‘I’ll be’ as opposed to ‘I am’ throws Wilson off. He nods, knowing that House probably knows he’s nodding. He adds, “Lunch is almost over.”
House opens his eyes and pretends that three other pairs of eyes aren’t glued to him. He smiles. It’s slight, and if it hadn’t been pointed out, you never would’ve noticed—at least, if you’re not Wilson.
“What?” asks Wilson, returning the same, sort of crazed, half-smile.
“Did I ever tell you about my worst date?”
A/N: Sorry I took a bit longer on this chapter! As you probably noticed in the first chapters, I was having a little problem with characterization, lol so I kept playing with this chapter. Next one will be up soon though!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-05 05:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2008-11-05 04:13 pm (UTC)I wanna hear about House's worst date! Though knowing House, what's worst for him is probably relatively normal for the rest of us, but who knows.
"AH I forgot how ugly you all are, except for Chase." *wink*
That had to be my favorite. I had a lot of laugh out loud moments while reading this, some of which were granted strange looks from my roommate. =)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-05 08:45 pm (UTC)Loved this line: “What’s to celebrate? I’m another year closer to dying.” He tilts his head. “Okay, I can see a need of celebration there.” Perfectly House!
Looking forward to House's worst date. I'm wondering if he's trying to distract himself from the escalating pain... poor guy.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-05 11:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2008-11-07 05:32 am (UTC)Totally kidding, and thanks so much for reading!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-07 05:33 am (UTC)Thanks as always for your sweet comment, I appreciate it. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-07 05:35 am (UTC)Must you be so psychic, bmax? You need to start putting spoiler alerts before you comment. Just kidding, thanks for reading. You know how much I appreciate it. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-07 05:38 am (UTC)1. Averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.
2. Causing idleness or indolence
3. Verbal_Kint10
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-07 05:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-07 05:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-07 03:54 pm (UTC)Another fabulous update as usual. Love how you write Wilson. He's so perfect the way he stammers. LOL It's like watching an episode. All the bantering back and forth was perfect. How he started to use Lisa's name and then threw it away. Wilson laughing manically is a perfect description of him. Very well done.
This is so funny “So I guess this answers the question of how many doctors it takes to change a light bulb,” says House.
The reason for the note is because they are trying to surprise House for his birthday was ingenious. Cage???!!! Can't wait to see where that's going. Though I'm not sure if I believe that one yet. You can be sneaky. LOL
Another great House line “Nothing, just forgot how ugly you all are."
OMG, the whole story of Wilson and his girlfriend at Thanksgiving was priceless. Can't wait to hear about House's worse date. Great update. Can't wait for another installment. Love your writing. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-08 02:28 am (UTC)But that just means you've got House in character. He always tries to create a distraction when he's hurting. Whether it be a case, a hooker, pacing, talking. Something.
Oh! And hey, got a story idea if you're interested. I'll PM you.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-08 03:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2008-11-10 01:20 pm (UTC)The whole light bulb scene was great.