fanfic: your old dead jokes.
your old dead jokes.
house. house/cuddy. drabble. 194 words. "You need to stop worrying so much."
They are sitting in a waiting room. Opposing chairs. The patient’s mother is praying over his bed. They can hear her.
House closes his eyes in some kind of distaste.
“You can go home, you know.”
“I prefer to see things through.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“What are you here?”
“To see if we get sued.”
“We won’t.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“House-“
He leans forward, both hands on his cane. He smirks a little.
“You need to stop worrying so much.”
“Maybe I should fire you then.”
“Never.”
“You’re pretty confident.”
He tilts his head to one side.
“You’re breasts are pretty.”
“Don’t be a perv.”
“You love-“
“Oh, stop.”
He taps the cane up and down.
“Let’s have sex.”
“I-“
“You’re bored, I’m bored. There is nothing better to do. Let’s go fuck.”
“House-“
“You’re office. Now. You on the desk, me on the chair, we’ll 69 on the couch, and I-“
“Don’t.”
He grins.
“You’re thinking about it.”
“I am not.”
“Cuddy-“
“If this one dies, you’re out, House.”
The lie is the only quiet thing in the room. The mother is crying, now.
house. house/cuddy. drabble. 194 words. "You need to stop worrying so much."
They are sitting in a waiting room. Opposing chairs. The patient’s mother is praying over his bed. They can hear her.
House closes his eyes in some kind of distaste.
“You can go home, you know.”
“I prefer to see things through.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“What are you here?”
“To see if we get sued.”
“We won’t.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“House-“
He leans forward, both hands on his cane. He smirks a little.
“You need to stop worrying so much.”
“Maybe I should fire you then.”
“Never.”
“You’re pretty confident.”
He tilts his head to one side.
“You’re breasts are pretty.”
“Don’t be a perv.”
“You love-“
“Oh, stop.”
He taps the cane up and down.
“Let’s have sex.”
“I-“
“You’re bored, I’m bored. There is nothing better to do. Let’s go fuck.”
“House-“
“You’re office. Now. You on the desk, me on the chair, we’ll 69 on the couch, and I-“
“Don’t.”
He grins.
“You’re thinking about it.”
“I am not.”
“Cuddy-“
“If this one dies, you’re out, House.”
The lie is the only quiet thing in the room. The mother is crying, now.