rivers_bend (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rivers_bend) wrote2006-09-08 11:51 am
rivers_bend) wrote2006-09-08 11:51 am
Entry tags:
H/W snapshot fic
Title: More than a Day
Words: ~450
Rating: G
A/N: I promised![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
skyblue_reverie that I would write some H/W “snapshot fiction” because she didn’t want to have to read Chase/Wilson. So, here it is. Thank you to karaokegal for pointing out that what I mean isn’t always what I’ve said.
The prompts are word association, which is why they are a bit strange.
shadow
House watches out the window for a Wilson-shaped shadow to cross his balcony. It’s been hours since Wilson went into his office and he’ll need some fresh air soon. He missed lunch today and yesterday, making House wonder. Just a little, but enough that he’s been staring out the window for close to an hour. Waiting for the shadow.
puppet
Wilson thinks he’s busy, that he’s getting on with his work of his own volition. House’s petty lashing out has nothing to do with it. There was no final straw sending him to attack the stacks of paperwork that have been building up on his desk. Wilson is his own man. He is not House’s puppet.
master
Some days House can’t stand the way Chase, Cameron and Foreman look at him blankly. He’s happy to play master of ceremonies, but they should be his clowns, not the huddled masses. He’s made the connection between their blank looks and his bad moods, but that’s just how things are. He wishes they’d get over it and continue to throw out diagnostic possibilities despite his snapping at them. He talks into the end of his cane like a microphone to entertain himself.
card
When the first card turns up on his desk, Wilson thinks someone has taken the time to painstakingly mimic House’s handwriting. There’s a cartoon dog on the front with a bandage around his head. Get Well Soon says the text inside. The signature just says, “a friend.” When there are nine more cards in the next two days, Wilson decides that really, only House is that determined.
sharp
House cuts himself on the broken edge of a mug just at the moment Wilson finally comes in to see him. The pain is distracting; a relief, keeping him from showing how scared he’s been that Wilson seemed to be staying away forever. He wants to say, “Where have you been?” or, “Why have you been ignoring me?” or even, “I missed you, damn it.” But he sucks the blood out of his finger and smiles around the edges while Wilson makes some sort if inane comment about whatever song House is listening to. “Do you want Chinese or pizza tonight?” he says instead.
blunt
Wilson doesn’t see any point in pulling his punches, or they will just be back where they started. “I was pissed that you kept carping at me and I needed some time away from it. I want Chinese, I want you to pay, and I want you to apologise. I will however, let you pick the movie.” To Wilson’s immense surprise, House’s smile lights up not only his face, but the whole room.
Words: ~450
Rating: G
A/N: I promised
skyblue_reverie that I would write some H/W “snapshot fiction” because she didn’t want to have to read Chase/Wilson. So, here it is. Thank you to karaokegal for pointing out that what I mean isn’t always what I’ve said.The prompts are word association, which is why they are a bit strange.
shadow
House watches out the window for a Wilson-shaped shadow to cross his balcony. It’s been hours since Wilson went into his office and he’ll need some fresh air soon. He missed lunch today and yesterday, making House wonder. Just a little, but enough that he’s been staring out the window for close to an hour. Waiting for the shadow.
puppet
Wilson thinks he’s busy, that he’s getting on with his work of his own volition. House’s petty lashing out has nothing to do with it. There was no final straw sending him to attack the stacks of paperwork that have been building up on his desk. Wilson is his own man. He is not House’s puppet.
master
Some days House can’t stand the way Chase, Cameron and Foreman look at him blankly. He’s happy to play master of ceremonies, but they should be his clowns, not the huddled masses. He’s made the connection between their blank looks and his bad moods, but that’s just how things are. He wishes they’d get over it and continue to throw out diagnostic possibilities despite his snapping at them. He talks into the end of his cane like a microphone to entertain himself.
card
When the first card turns up on his desk, Wilson thinks someone has taken the time to painstakingly mimic House’s handwriting. There’s a cartoon dog on the front with a bandage around his head. Get Well Soon says the text inside. The signature just says, “a friend.” When there are nine more cards in the next two days, Wilson decides that really, only House is that determined.
sharp
House cuts himself on the broken edge of a mug just at the moment Wilson finally comes in to see him. The pain is distracting; a relief, keeping him from showing how scared he’s been that Wilson seemed to be staying away forever. He wants to say, “Where have you been?” or, “Why have you been ignoring me?” or even, “I missed you, damn it.” But he sucks the blood out of his finger and smiles around the edges while Wilson makes some sort if inane comment about whatever song House is listening to. “Do you want Chinese or pizza tonight?” he says instead.
blunt
Wilson doesn’t see any point in pulling his punches, or they will just be back where they started. “I was pissed that you kept carping at me and I needed some time away from it. I want Chinese, I want you to pay, and I want you to apologise. I will however, let you pick the movie.” To Wilson’s immense surprise, House’s smile lights up not only his face, but the whole room.
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