House ficlet: Questionable Motives
Characters: House and Wilson
Rating: About the same as the show
Pairing: House/Wilson, except not quite yet
Notes: Originally drafted far too late/early, over on Tumblr.
Questionable Motives
“It wasn’t that you wanted to sleep with her, was it?” Wilson said, out of nowhere, a week after they’d both been declared mendacious dirtbags. “You just didn’t want me to.”
Well, duh, House thought. In no hurry to begin this conversation, he took another handful of popcorn and leaned back in that stupid double-lounge-chair sofa, which had been his own idea but which clearly had to go.
“Because we both knew how that was gonna end,” House said, and if Wilson were sensible, he’d have shut up after that.
Wilson had never been all that sensible.
“We didn’t know anything. She’s … she’s attractive, she’s sane, and she’s perfectly nice! Anything could have happened.”
“Sure, if you weren’t you. Because if there’s one thing you absolutely cannot cope with, it’s relationships with perfectly nice people.” To illustrate this point, House grabbed Wilson’s bottle of beer off the ridiculous center arm-rest of the ridiculous not-really-a-sofa and took a good, long drink. “Also, I would totally have slept with her. I just knew you’d never let it get that far.”
Someone was getting murdered on the TV show House was no longer watching. It was way more interesting to watch Wilson reclaim that beer and keep drinking it as if nothing had happened.
“You had no idea what I’d do,” Wilson insisted. “That was such an amazing look on your face.”
“I knew you’d eventually call my bluff. Just didn’t think you’d do it on one knee, in a crowded restaurant. I guessed you’d march in while she was over here, declare me taken, and swoop in for the requisite French kiss.” House glanced again at Wilson’s beer, considering a second round of theft, but it was too far gone to bother. “And then,” he said, as he got up to head for the kitchen, “we’d both have known how that felt.”
He saw just the beginning of Wilson’s startled scowl before he escaped. It was only a joke, right? If Wilson didn’t like it, it was only a joke.
“Get me another one, while you’re at it,” was all Wilson said.
No ‘please,’ House noted. Evidence of his own bad influence.
There might be hope for Wilson yet.
~*~
Rating: About the same as the show
Pairing: House/Wilson, except not quite yet
Notes: Originally drafted far too late/early, over on Tumblr.
Questionable Motives
“It wasn’t that you wanted to sleep with her, was it?” Wilson said, out of nowhere, a week after they’d both been declared mendacious dirtbags. “You just didn’t want me to.”
Well, duh, House thought. In no hurry to begin this conversation, he took another handful of popcorn and leaned back in that stupid double-lounge-chair sofa, which had been his own idea but which clearly had to go.
“Because we both knew how that was gonna end,” House said, and if Wilson were sensible, he’d have shut up after that.
Wilson had never been all that sensible.
“We didn’t know anything. She’s … she’s attractive, she’s sane, and she’s perfectly nice! Anything could have happened.”
“Sure, if you weren’t you. Because if there’s one thing you absolutely cannot cope with, it’s relationships with perfectly nice people.” To illustrate this point, House grabbed Wilson’s bottle of beer off the ridiculous center arm-rest of the ridiculous not-really-a-sofa and took a good, long drink. “Also, I would totally have slept with her. I just knew you’d never let it get that far.”
Someone was getting murdered on the TV show House was no longer watching. It was way more interesting to watch Wilson reclaim that beer and keep drinking it as if nothing had happened.
“You had no idea what I’d do,” Wilson insisted. “That was such an amazing look on your face.”
“I knew you’d eventually call my bluff. Just didn’t think you’d do it on one knee, in a crowded restaurant. I guessed you’d march in while she was over here, declare me taken, and swoop in for the requisite French kiss.” House glanced again at Wilson’s beer, considering a second round of theft, but it was too far gone to bother. “And then,” he said, as he got up to head for the kitchen, “we’d both have known how that felt.”
He saw just the beginning of Wilson’s startled scowl before he escaped. It was only a joke, right? If Wilson didn’t like it, it was only a joke.
“Get me another one, while you’re at it,” was all Wilson said.
No ‘please,’ House noted. Evidence of his own bad influence.
There might be hope for Wilson yet.
~*~