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hihoplasticFanFiction: FanFic100: WilsonCuddy (6/6)
Title: Well It Goes Like This (6/6)
Fandom: House, MD
Character/Pairing: WilsonCuddy
Prompt: 035: Sixth Sense
Word Count: 1204
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: No spoilers. Titles from the various versions of Halellujah. Part one, two, three, four, five, six.
Hallelujah
It’s a loss of words that keeps her silent, keeps her head raised high but her eyes to the floor; full sentences get caught in her throat, and everything still feels wrong.
He tries to grab her on her way out the door, but her skin is slick and her voice not loud enough for him to hang on to. He stands stoically and watches her leave, before wandering back up to his office to hide.
House finds him later, feet propped up on the desk, considering an unopened bottle. He leans his weight to the side and holds out his cane.
‘If you’re going to be me, at least do it right.’
One corner of his mouth goes up and Wilson drops his feet to the floor.
‘If it were you, this bottle would be half empty by now.
House concedes with a tilt of his head and sits on the other side of his desk, instantly hooking his feet over the edge, cane draped across his lap. Wilson smirks again and gets two glasses out of the bottom drawer.
‘Julie and I are getting divorced,’ he says as he pours.
‘You sound devastated.’
Wilson shrugs and hands him a glass. ‘It’s been a long time coming.’
‘So were your first two divorces, but last time I thought you were going to fling yourself into the Hudson.’
‘I’d have to go into New York to do that. I hate New York.’
House nods and takes a drink. ‘So does Cuddy.’
‘Julie loves it. Julie loves the Oxygen Network and cheese soirees, wine-tastings and romantic comedies. Cuddy hates parties, loves baseball and doesn’t even own a television.’
‘At least your taste is eclectic,’ he offers, but Wilson just shifts the wine around in the glass.
‘What am I doing?’
‘You’re wallowing.’
Wilson looks up. ‘You know it wouldn’t kill you to pretend to care, every once in a—’
‘Pity doesn’t do anybody any good,’ he says sharply, and then sighs. ‘If you want her, quit bitching about it and go get her.’
Wilson shakes his head. ‘She left for the night.’
‘Contrary to popular belief, Cuddy does have a home. A home, in fact, that is riddled with things that belong to you.’
‘Which proves what?’
‘That this was not a one-time thing. And when Cuddy leaves here she actually has somewhere to go, she doesn’t just fade into oblivion… although now that I think about it that would be pretty c—’
‘I can’t. That’s not… the way it works. I’m still married.’
‘You were married when you slept with her, too.’
‘I didn’t—’
But House just stares and Wilson drops his eyes to the red wine. He says nothing for a long while, and the room wreaks of impatience.
‘Julie came by,’ he says finally, his voice barely making it across the desk. ‘I don’t know what she said, but… something changed.’
‘You let your wife talk to—’
‘I didn’t let her; I couldn’t stop her, I… I don’t know what she said.’
‘Maybe you should find out.’
‘Maybe I should give up.’
‘Maybe you should.’
Wilson looks up, and fails to mask his surprise as House heaves himself out of the chair.
‘Everything you’ll ever need to know you learned in kindergarten—first grade, if you were a little slow. Don’t take other peoples things; don’t use physical violence; if you screw up, say you’re sorry; if it’s your mother, even if you didn’t do it say you’re sorry; and if you make two play-dates for the same time, apologize profusely and then figure out which one you’d rather go to and do that.’
‘We aren’t in kindergarten anymore, House. It’s not the same.’
‘I should hope not. Banging Cuddy would be the equivalent of banging Miss Honey.’
‘Miss Honey taught first grade.’
‘Then I was right—you were a little slow.’
‘It’s not like that—’
‘Yeah, it is. You’re making it different by making it complicated.’
‘It’s already complicated! I just screwed up my third marriage, House, by having an affair with my boss who is secretly hot for my best friend who is secretly hot for her—’
‘What?’ House’s jaw hung a little low, and Wilson wished he were in the right mind frame to feel smug about it.
‘She… you two…’
‘You think Cuddy wants to have sex with me. And you think I want to have sex with Cuddy.’
‘The tension is definitely there.’
‘Of course the tension is there, she’s my boss.’ Wilson sighs and stares at the wall, fixated on the light’s reflection in the glass. House rolls his eyes. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Wilson, I’m not going to steal your woman.’
Wilson looks back sharply. ‘What?’
‘I have much higher standards than you when it comes to the ladies. Cuddy’s about three rungs below where I am.’
Wilson scoffs. ‘If she offered you one night of string-free six you’d jump for it.’
‘Jumping’s out.’ Wilson glares and House gives him a ‘well, obviously’ expression. ‘You have looked at the woman, right? She’s got a rack to make straight, celibate nuns shed their habits and run for the nude beaches.’
‘So then you are attracted to her.’
‘Physically? Of course—she’s got half the hospital in the bathroom on their lunch breaks because of those low-cut blouses. Emotionally, I’d rather go to a tattoo parlor in Newark and have a three-hundred pound gang member pierce my—’
‘Okay, I got it. Please, no visuals.’ Wilson waves his hand in front of his face and closes his eyes, missing House’s self-satisfied smirk.
‘I don’t want Cuddy, Wilson.’ There’s a moment of intense honesty that passes that Wilson acknowledges with a slight dip of his head. ‘So that makes my presence here understandable. You, on the other hand, should definitely be trying to get some.’
‘What?’
‘Cuddy is the master of the guilt complex, and right about now I’d say she’s feeling pretty damn culpable. She’s going to want to make it up to you somehow.’ House shrugs dramatically. ‘Don’t know how she’s gonna do that…’
‘You think guilt makes women horny?’
‘Have you met my ex?’
Wilson glares briefly, then settles his gaze at the bottom of his glass. House sighs, limps forward, picks a set of keys up off the desk and holds them out. ‘In case you haven’t heard, her long time handyman just lost his, and I think she’s in the market. Sure, you’re not Latino, but I’ve seen you salsa—not bad for a white boy from Jersey.’
Wilson sighs and stares at the keys, dangling from House’s middle finger.
‘Go.’
He looks up, surprised to be met with calm, honest eyes and the smallest hint of a smile.
He sits for a few more moments after House has left, enjoying the soft sounds of the hospital at night. Never too crowded, never vacant, a soothing mix of life and death he’s never been able to find anywhere else.
Sighing, he heaves himself to his feet and grabs his coat off the back of the chair. He hesitates, fingering the keys in his hand, then switches off the light.
The door opens and closes without a sound.
/fin
Title: Well It Goes Like This (6/6)
Fandom: House, MD
Character/Pairing: WilsonCuddy
Prompt: 035: Sixth Sense
Word Count: 1204
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: No spoilers. Titles from the various versions of Halellujah. Part one, two, three, four, five, six.
Hallelujah
It’s a loss of words that keeps her silent, keeps her head raised high but her eyes to the floor; full sentences get caught in her throat, and everything still feels wrong.
He tries to grab her on her way out the door, but her skin is slick and her voice not loud enough for him to hang on to. He stands stoically and watches her leave, before wandering back up to his office to hide.
House finds him later, feet propped up on the desk, considering an unopened bottle. He leans his weight to the side and holds out his cane.
‘If you’re going to be me, at least do it right.’
One corner of his mouth goes up and Wilson drops his feet to the floor.
‘If it were you, this bottle would be half empty by now.
House concedes with a tilt of his head and sits on the other side of his desk, instantly hooking his feet over the edge, cane draped across his lap. Wilson smirks again and gets two glasses out of the bottom drawer.
‘Julie and I are getting divorced,’ he says as he pours.
‘You sound devastated.’
Wilson shrugs and hands him a glass. ‘It’s been a long time coming.’
‘So were your first two divorces, but last time I thought you were going to fling yourself into the Hudson.’
‘I’d have to go into New York to do that. I hate New York.’
House nods and takes a drink. ‘So does Cuddy.’
‘Julie loves it. Julie loves the Oxygen Network and cheese soirees, wine-tastings and romantic comedies. Cuddy hates parties, loves baseball and doesn’t even own a television.’
‘At least your taste is eclectic,’ he offers, but Wilson just shifts the wine around in the glass.
‘What am I doing?’
‘You’re wallowing.’
Wilson looks up. ‘You know it wouldn’t kill you to pretend to care, every once in a—’
‘Pity doesn’t do anybody any good,’ he says sharply, and then sighs. ‘If you want her, quit bitching about it and go get her.’
Wilson shakes his head. ‘She left for the night.’
‘Contrary to popular belief, Cuddy does have a home. A home, in fact, that is riddled with things that belong to you.’
‘Which proves what?’
‘That this was not a one-time thing. And when Cuddy leaves here she actually has somewhere to go, she doesn’t just fade into oblivion… although now that I think about it that would be pretty c—’
‘I can’t. That’s not… the way it works. I’m still married.’
‘You were married when you slept with her, too.’
‘I didn’t—’
But House just stares and Wilson drops his eyes to the red wine. He says nothing for a long while, and the room wreaks of impatience.
‘Julie came by,’ he says finally, his voice barely making it across the desk. ‘I don’t know what she said, but… something changed.’
‘You let your wife talk to—’
‘I didn’t let her; I couldn’t stop her, I… I don’t know what she said.’
‘Maybe you should find out.’
‘Maybe I should give up.’
‘Maybe you should.’
Wilson looks up, and fails to mask his surprise as House heaves himself out of the chair.
‘Everything you’ll ever need to know you learned in kindergarten—first grade, if you were a little slow. Don’t take other peoples things; don’t use physical violence; if you screw up, say you’re sorry; if it’s your mother, even if you didn’t do it say you’re sorry; and if you make two play-dates for the same time, apologize profusely and then figure out which one you’d rather go to and do that.’
‘We aren’t in kindergarten anymore, House. It’s not the same.’
‘I should hope not. Banging Cuddy would be the equivalent of banging Miss Honey.’
‘Miss Honey taught first grade.’
‘Then I was right—you were a little slow.’
‘It’s not like that—’
‘Yeah, it is. You’re making it different by making it complicated.’
‘It’s already complicated! I just screwed up my third marriage, House, by having an affair with my boss who is secretly hot for my best friend who is secretly hot for her—’
‘What?’ House’s jaw hung a little low, and Wilson wished he were in the right mind frame to feel smug about it.
‘She… you two…’
‘You think Cuddy wants to have sex with me. And you think I want to have sex with Cuddy.’
‘The tension is definitely there.’
‘Of course the tension is there, she’s my boss.’ Wilson sighs and stares at the wall, fixated on the light’s reflection in the glass. House rolls his eyes. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Wilson, I’m not going to steal your woman.’
Wilson looks back sharply. ‘What?’
‘I have much higher standards than you when it comes to the ladies. Cuddy’s about three rungs below where I am.’
Wilson scoffs. ‘If she offered you one night of string-free six you’d jump for it.’
‘Jumping’s out.’ Wilson glares and House gives him a ‘well, obviously’ expression. ‘You have looked at the woman, right? She’s got a rack to make straight, celibate nuns shed their habits and run for the nude beaches.’
‘So then you are attracted to her.’
‘Physically? Of course—she’s got half the hospital in the bathroom on their lunch breaks because of those low-cut blouses. Emotionally, I’d rather go to a tattoo parlor in Newark and have a three-hundred pound gang member pierce my—’
‘Okay, I got it. Please, no visuals.’ Wilson waves his hand in front of his face and closes his eyes, missing House’s self-satisfied smirk.
‘I don’t want Cuddy, Wilson.’ There’s a moment of intense honesty that passes that Wilson acknowledges with a slight dip of his head. ‘So that makes my presence here understandable. You, on the other hand, should definitely be trying to get some.’
‘What?’
‘Cuddy is the master of the guilt complex, and right about now I’d say she’s feeling pretty damn culpable. She’s going to want to make it up to you somehow.’ House shrugs dramatically. ‘Don’t know how she’s gonna do that…’
‘You think guilt makes women horny?’
‘Have you met my ex?’
Wilson glares briefly, then settles his gaze at the bottom of his glass. House sighs, limps forward, picks a set of keys up off the desk and holds them out. ‘In case you haven’t heard, her long time handyman just lost his, and I think she’s in the market. Sure, you’re not Latino, but I’ve seen you salsa—not bad for a white boy from Jersey.’
Wilson sighs and stares at the keys, dangling from House’s middle finger.
‘Go.’
He looks up, surprised to be met with calm, honest eyes and the smallest hint of a smile.
He sits for a few more moments after House has left, enjoying the soft sounds of the hospital at night. Never too crowded, never vacant, a soothing mix of life and death he’s never been able to find anywhere else.
Sighing, he heaves himself to his feet and grabs his coat off the back of the chair. He hesitates, fingering the keys in his hand, then switches off the light.
The door opens and closes without a sound.
/fin
