Wilson In The Evening: A Sequel
This is the conclusion.
Wilson In The Evening: A Sequel, part 4
By: longstrt
Title: Wilson: New York, New York: It's A Wonderful Town!
Pairing: House and Wilson
Rating: mature adults
Genre: pre-slash
Disclaimer: I sure wish I owned these characters.
Words: 2226
Summary: Wilson and House in New York.
Note: This concludes the arc.
__________________________
James Wilson opened the door to their King Premier room at the Park Avenue hotel. It was costing him almost $500 a night, but it had been worth it. The look on House's face when he had seen the humongous, king-sized bed - - the single bed in the room had been a triumph. House's eyebrow had shot up as he immediately announced that "he was not that kind of guy", but he had made very little fuss when the younger man had an indignant conversation with the management which failed to achieve a change in boudoir accommodations. It seemed that quite a few "Monster Machine" fanciers had decided to indulge at their hotel.
Friday evening had been wonderful. House had dressed up . . . well, he put on a tie and straightened his suit coat and ordered for them at Sardi's. Behind his menu, the younger man smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.
The next day had been even better. It was strange how hot dogs with mustard tasted even better than Sardi's excellent cuisine when he was with House. The Monster Machines were fantastic, and House was on his best behavior . House had even paid for the overpriced snacks and laughed at least a half-dozen times. His leg had even taken a day off for once.
It was now late evening as the two men entered the hotel room. They were pleasantly tired. House seemed to be limping more than previously, but his sarcasm had been held in check, for whatever reason.
"Want a beer?"
"Yeah, but I'm going to make good use of that Jacuzzi before I do anything else."
"Okay, do you want something from room service?"
House turned and smiled with his eyes. "Just because you're letting your love handles go, doesn't mean that I can afford to, beer will be enough for me."
After an hour, the oncologist was just about prepared to man the battering ram when the slender man walked out, clothed in one of the hotel robes and his skin. His hair was still wet, but it looked like the hour had done him good. House collapsed rather heavily on the couch that took up most of one wall, taking a huge drink from the ice cold beer that the younger doctor had thoughtfully returned to the mini-bar when House hadn't appeared right away.
"Hmmm!"
The two men sat at opposite ends of the very long sofa, saying nothing . . . not needing to say anything. The atmosphere was . . . contented. It wasn't terribly late . . . at least not by New York standards, but it had been a long, eventful day. House might want to go to bed.
James stood up, looked for his pajamas which he had worn the previous night, but couldn't find them. Turning he looked at House, "You seen my pajamas?"
"Is that a theoretical or practical question?"
"Huh?" Sighing heavily, he continued, "I wore some red striped pajamas last evening, and I would like to put them on after my shower. Do you know where they are?"
"If I say yes, do I get a present?"
The tired eyes blinked. Why was House doing this now, after such a good day? "What kind of present do you want?"
A speck of sadness crept into the magnificent blue eyes, "I want you to answer two questions for me, with no prevarication, stalling, or fabrication."
Pretending to bristle he blurted out,"When have I ever prevaricated, stalled, or lied to you?"
"You're doing it now!"
"I'm not doing anything right now except trying to locate my pajamas from a furry-faced, snarky, Monster Machine fiend whose love handles are the rage of Princeton-Plainsboro."
"You're so jealous! . . . All right, I'll tell you where your pajamas are, and you answer my two questions."
"Just two?"
"Mais, certainement!"
Cocking his head and looked extremely suspicious, he nodded his agreement. "All right, where are my pajamas?"
House shook his head. "Oh, no, this child wasn't born yesterday. Answers first then pajamas."
James sat down heavily on the end of the large bed, looking pathetic. "What's your first question?
"How does Cuddy really know that you have love handles?"
Raising his head quickly, he stared into House's curious and furious blue eyes. "I told you already - - at the gym."
"Naughty, naughty, that's another lie. I talked to Cuddy. She tried to cover for you, but those breasts never lie. What's the truth, James?"
House never called his friend that unless he was very serious. Suddenly, Wilson realized the depth of the issue that had been behind these last six weeks of heartache. "When did you talk to Cuddy?"
"When I gave her that magnificent and well-thought out Valentine's gift."
The light turned on in the handsome Oncologist's head. The very next day, House had berated him for his lack of independence, and within 24 hours, the man had left for Baltimore.
God, how he hated Baltimore. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head then began to talk. "When I found out you and Stacy were stuck in Baltimore, I knew what would happen. You were so different when you got back. Then you told me that you had kissed her. You were so sure that she really wanted you. God, how I hated her, you, and Baltimore, and then that's where I end up for six weeks."
House continued to sit quietly across the room from his friend. His slender hands were white as they gripped his cane. Once again he had hurt his friend without really meaning to.
Staring with his amazingly brilliant brown eyes, he said, "I got drunk and then I went to the hospital where I threw up. Cuddy found out and took me off duty. She put me in a private room and let me sleep it off. I was so stinking that I couldn't stand myself. She found me some other clothes and helped me change. That's how she knows about the love handles - - not that there's much left after the last six weeks."
Now it was House's turn to close his eyes and slink into a mire of misery. He had put his friend through all of that because of Stacy . . . again.
When House didn't say anything, the younger man felt his heart plunge. He had been acting like an idiot. House hated anyone acting like that. The two men had been friends for 18 years, but lovers for only a year, so long ago. House's barriers were obviously well in place.
"I just didn't want you to get hurt again," then he shook his head and continued. "No, that isn't entirely it; I just didn't know if I would be able to stand by and . . . well, I just didn't know if I could pick up the pieces again, if Stacy left you again."
Greg House got up and carefully walked over to the bed which the maid had previously turned down. Stripping to his boxers, House slid into his side of the bed, covering his face with his arm.
Coming out of his reverie, "Hey, wait a minute, where are my pajamas?"
After a moment, House's lips which were the only exposed part of his anatomy said, "They committed suicide."
"What?"
"I held them up in front of that large mirror in the bathroom. They were so revolted by their appearance, they threw themselves down the elevator shaft."
"But, Julie gave me those for my birthday last year."
"Ooops. Well, that should have told you that she really hated you. I'm surprised you waited so long to split up with hints like that. Wear your skin, get in bed, and turn out the light."
Grumbling slightly, he did exactly that. The room had black out curtains so the darkness was total. Both men knew instinctively, however, that even though the bed was very wide, they were lying near each other. After a minute or two, House's left hand began to search for well-known body. Finding a right hand, House clasped it to his.
"Sorry about the pajamas, but you don't really need them."
Sighing he said, "They weren't that bad, but . . . well, they weren't that good either."
There was silence for a moment as the touching became more comfortable to the two men. "How come you told me about my pajamas? You said two questions."
"Time off for good behavior?"
He smiled into the darkness but waited.
"How come . . . you didn't tell me about the divorce and going to Baltimore?"
Closing his eyes, he knew what the question really entailed. "I am a total loser at relationships with women. I like them, but being married . . . well, you always get such amusement out of my divorces; I felt like I couldn't take that again and then when you berated me about being more independent, I knew that Baltimore was the answer. I just forgot that I had already bought the tickets."
House nodded although his friend couldn't see it. The silence seemed to overwhelm the room, but when he tried to withdraw, he was held tightly by House's hand.
House turned on his left side and peered into the darkness as if he could see that lucious figure. "Do you have to go back to Baltimore tomorrow?"
"House, it's all arranged for three months. As long as Mark Vestry is here, I'm there."
"Okay, okay; I forget what an honorable man you are."
HWHWHWHWHWHWHWHW
Sometime in the night the two bodies drew closer together to take mutual comfort from each other, but when the younger doctor got up around 9:00 am to take a shower, House barely seemed to notice.
An hour later the two men sat down to a room service breakfast, planning what to do with their remaining few hours in the Big Apple.
The phone rang. The oncologist, being closer and less lazy, answered it, speaking quietly for a few minutes then replaced the receiver.
A puzzled look occupied the handsome face. "The strangest thing."
House looked up from the less than stellar DVD he was watching, "Strange - - you mean a case?" In his best whining voice, he continued, "Oh we don't HAVE to go back and study Cuddy's best assets YET, do we?"
"No, but that was Cuddy. It seems that Mark Vestry is leaving right away to go back to Baltimore. His wife found out about a few activities that he's been involved in since he's been in Princeton and as they say, 'adios muchacho'.
House smirked, "All that smarts and languages, too; you amaze me."
James walked over to the temporary table and sat down, drinking some more coffee. "That's really amazing; here we were talking about Vestry and now he's gone."
"Well, as someone once said, 'Here today; gone tomorrow.' Where does that put you?"
Major vibrations were going off as he watched his friend's apparent innocence. What had House done? Secretly happy that he would not have to return to Baltimore, he was not ready - - yet - - to give up his independence.
"Well, it is a problem, but I think I can talk Cuddy into seeing it my way."
House closed one eye as if he wasn't on the man's wavelength. "Your way?"
"Yeah, well, there's no reason for me to give up six more weeks of spreading my golden words of wisdom. Love all the seafood, and I don't want to miss all those napoleons at Vaccaro's."
He seemed to drop into reverie over the delicacies offered in his adopted city; then he continued, "If I talk to Cuddy, she'll let Cruikshank take over the Oncology Department and be liaison with all the other departments. In fact, he was in on the program that we were talking about before I left, 'Get To Know Your Colleagues'. Cruikshank could go around and work with each department for a week or two, and then I wouldn't have to do it when I get back."
Gregory House, long time friend and pain in the butt, looked like he had just swallowed a goldfish or five. His lips were burbling like a guppy as he contemplated the future of Cruikshank "getting to know him better". "I . . . I don’t think that's a good idea, Jimmy."
"Jimmy" smiled his most angelic. "Nonsense, this will be perfect. Mr. Independence meets Mr. Bloodsucker! The Monster Machines couldn't be more entertaining."
House gave him - - the glare - - then smiled, "You got any room at Hopkins for a few weeks?"
"House, you wouldn't!"
"Hmmm, we'll have to talk about it. Let's go up to Ollie's and pick up some Steamed Pork Buns; then we can discuss it in greater depth on the way to Princeton. After all we'll have lots of time."
The smirk on Greg House's face spoke volumes about the fun and adventure that awaited.
__________________
The end of the arc
Wilson In The Evening: A Sequel, part 4
By: longstrt
Title: Wilson: New York, New York: It's A Wonderful Town!
Pairing: House and Wilson
Rating: mature adults
Genre: pre-slash
Disclaimer: I sure wish I owned these characters.
Words: 2226
Summary: Wilson and House in New York.
Note: This concludes the arc.
__________________________
James Wilson opened the door to their King Premier room at the Park Avenue hotel. It was costing him almost $500 a night, but it had been worth it. The look on House's face when he had seen the humongous, king-sized bed - - the single bed in the room had been a triumph. House's eyebrow had shot up as he immediately announced that "he was not that kind of guy", but he had made very little fuss when the younger man had an indignant conversation with the management which failed to achieve a change in boudoir accommodations. It seemed that quite a few "Monster Machine" fanciers had decided to indulge at their hotel.
Friday evening had been wonderful. House had dressed up . . . well, he put on a tie and straightened his suit coat and ordered for them at Sardi's. Behind his menu, the younger man smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.
The next day had been even better. It was strange how hot dogs with mustard tasted even better than Sardi's excellent cuisine when he was with House. The Monster Machines were fantastic, and House was on his best behavior . House had even paid for the overpriced snacks and laughed at least a half-dozen times. His leg had even taken a day off for once.
It was now late evening as the two men entered the hotel room. They were pleasantly tired. House seemed to be limping more than previously, but his sarcasm had been held in check, for whatever reason.
"Want a beer?"
"Yeah, but I'm going to make good use of that Jacuzzi before I do anything else."
"Okay, do you want something from room service?"
House turned and smiled with his eyes. "Just because you're letting your love handles go, doesn't mean that I can afford to, beer will be enough for me."
After an hour, the oncologist was just about prepared to man the battering ram when the slender man walked out, clothed in one of the hotel robes and his skin. His hair was still wet, but it looked like the hour had done him good. House collapsed rather heavily on the couch that took up most of one wall, taking a huge drink from the ice cold beer that the younger doctor had thoughtfully returned to the mini-bar when House hadn't appeared right away.
"Hmmm!"
The two men sat at opposite ends of the very long sofa, saying nothing . . . not needing to say anything. The atmosphere was . . . contented. It wasn't terribly late . . . at least not by New York standards, but it had been a long, eventful day. House might want to go to bed.
James stood up, looked for his pajamas which he had worn the previous night, but couldn't find them. Turning he looked at House, "You seen my pajamas?"
"Is that a theoretical or practical question?"
"Huh?" Sighing heavily, he continued, "I wore some red striped pajamas last evening, and I would like to put them on after my shower. Do you know where they are?"
"If I say yes, do I get a present?"
The tired eyes blinked. Why was House doing this now, after such a good day? "What kind of present do you want?"
A speck of sadness crept into the magnificent blue eyes, "I want you to answer two questions for me, with no prevarication, stalling, or fabrication."
Pretending to bristle he blurted out,"When have I ever prevaricated, stalled, or lied to you?"
"You're doing it now!"
"I'm not doing anything right now except trying to locate my pajamas from a furry-faced, snarky, Monster Machine fiend whose love handles are the rage of Princeton-Plainsboro."
"You're so jealous! . . . All right, I'll tell you where your pajamas are, and you answer my two questions."
"Just two?"
"Mais, certainement!"
Cocking his head and looked extremely suspicious, he nodded his agreement. "All right, where are my pajamas?"
House shook his head. "Oh, no, this child wasn't born yesterday. Answers first then pajamas."
James sat down heavily on the end of the large bed, looking pathetic. "What's your first question?
"How does Cuddy really know that you have love handles?"
Raising his head quickly, he stared into House's curious and furious blue eyes. "I told you already - - at the gym."
"Naughty, naughty, that's another lie. I talked to Cuddy. She tried to cover for you, but those breasts never lie. What's the truth, James?"
House never called his friend that unless he was very serious. Suddenly, Wilson realized the depth of the issue that had been behind these last six weeks of heartache. "When did you talk to Cuddy?"
"When I gave her that magnificent and well-thought out Valentine's gift."
The light turned on in the handsome Oncologist's head. The very next day, House had berated him for his lack of independence, and within 24 hours, the man had left for Baltimore.
God, how he hated Baltimore. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head then began to talk. "When I found out you and Stacy were stuck in Baltimore, I knew what would happen. You were so different when you got back. Then you told me that you had kissed her. You were so sure that she really wanted you. God, how I hated her, you, and Baltimore, and then that's where I end up for six weeks."
House continued to sit quietly across the room from his friend. His slender hands were white as they gripped his cane. Once again he had hurt his friend without really meaning to.
Staring with his amazingly brilliant brown eyes, he said, "I got drunk and then I went to the hospital where I threw up. Cuddy found out and took me off duty. She put me in a private room and let me sleep it off. I was so stinking that I couldn't stand myself. She found me some other clothes and helped me change. That's how she knows about the love handles - - not that there's much left after the last six weeks."
Now it was House's turn to close his eyes and slink into a mire of misery. He had put his friend through all of that because of Stacy . . . again.
When House didn't say anything, the younger man felt his heart plunge. He had been acting like an idiot. House hated anyone acting like that. The two men had been friends for 18 years, but lovers for only a year, so long ago. House's barriers were obviously well in place.
"I just didn't want you to get hurt again," then he shook his head and continued. "No, that isn't entirely it; I just didn't know if I would be able to stand by and . . . well, I just didn't know if I could pick up the pieces again, if Stacy left you again."
Greg House got up and carefully walked over to the bed which the maid had previously turned down. Stripping to his boxers, House slid into his side of the bed, covering his face with his arm.
Coming out of his reverie, "Hey, wait a minute, where are my pajamas?"
After a moment, House's lips which were the only exposed part of his anatomy said, "They committed suicide."
"What?"
"I held them up in front of that large mirror in the bathroom. They were so revolted by their appearance, they threw themselves down the elevator shaft."
"But, Julie gave me those for my birthday last year."
"Ooops. Well, that should have told you that she really hated you. I'm surprised you waited so long to split up with hints like that. Wear your skin, get in bed, and turn out the light."
Grumbling slightly, he did exactly that. The room had black out curtains so the darkness was total. Both men knew instinctively, however, that even though the bed was very wide, they were lying near each other. After a minute or two, House's left hand began to search for well-known body. Finding a right hand, House clasped it to his.
"Sorry about the pajamas, but you don't really need them."
Sighing he said, "They weren't that bad, but . . . well, they weren't that good either."
There was silence for a moment as the touching became more comfortable to the two men. "How come you told me about my pajamas? You said two questions."
"Time off for good behavior?"
He smiled into the darkness but waited.
"How come . . . you didn't tell me about the divorce and going to Baltimore?"
Closing his eyes, he knew what the question really entailed. "I am a total loser at relationships with women. I like them, but being married . . . well, you always get such amusement out of my divorces; I felt like I couldn't take that again and then when you berated me about being more independent, I knew that Baltimore was the answer. I just forgot that I had already bought the tickets."
House nodded although his friend couldn't see it. The silence seemed to overwhelm the room, but when he tried to withdraw, he was held tightly by House's hand.
House turned on his left side and peered into the darkness as if he could see that lucious figure. "Do you have to go back to Baltimore tomorrow?"
"House, it's all arranged for three months. As long as Mark Vestry is here, I'm there."
"Okay, okay; I forget what an honorable man you are."
HWHWHWHWHWHWHWHW
Sometime in the night the two bodies drew closer together to take mutual comfort from each other, but when the younger doctor got up around 9:00 am to take a shower, House barely seemed to notice.
An hour later the two men sat down to a room service breakfast, planning what to do with their remaining few hours in the Big Apple.
The phone rang. The oncologist, being closer and less lazy, answered it, speaking quietly for a few minutes then replaced the receiver.
A puzzled look occupied the handsome face. "The strangest thing."
House looked up from the less than stellar DVD he was watching, "Strange - - you mean a case?" In his best whining voice, he continued, "Oh we don't HAVE to go back and study Cuddy's best assets YET, do we?"
"No, but that was Cuddy. It seems that Mark Vestry is leaving right away to go back to Baltimore. His wife found out about a few activities that he's been involved in since he's been in Princeton and as they say, 'adios muchacho'.
House smirked, "All that smarts and languages, too; you amaze me."
James walked over to the temporary table and sat down, drinking some more coffee. "That's really amazing; here we were talking about Vestry and now he's gone."
"Well, as someone once said, 'Here today; gone tomorrow.' Where does that put you?"
Major vibrations were going off as he watched his friend's apparent innocence. What had House done? Secretly happy that he would not have to return to Baltimore, he was not ready - - yet - - to give up his independence.
"Well, it is a problem, but I think I can talk Cuddy into seeing it my way."
House closed one eye as if he wasn't on the man's wavelength. "Your way?"
"Yeah, well, there's no reason for me to give up six more weeks of spreading my golden words of wisdom. Love all the seafood, and I don't want to miss all those napoleons at Vaccaro's."
He seemed to drop into reverie over the delicacies offered in his adopted city; then he continued, "If I talk to Cuddy, she'll let Cruikshank take over the Oncology Department and be liaison with all the other departments. In fact, he was in on the program that we were talking about before I left, 'Get To Know Your Colleagues'. Cruikshank could go around and work with each department for a week or two, and then I wouldn't have to do it when I get back."
Gregory House, long time friend and pain in the butt, looked like he had just swallowed a goldfish or five. His lips were burbling like a guppy as he contemplated the future of Cruikshank "getting to know him better". "I . . . I don’t think that's a good idea, Jimmy."
"Jimmy" smiled his most angelic. "Nonsense, this will be perfect. Mr. Independence meets Mr. Bloodsucker! The Monster Machines couldn't be more entertaining."
House gave him - - the glare - - then smiled, "You got any room at Hopkins for a few weeks?"
"House, you wouldn't!"
"Hmmm, we'll have to talk about it. Let's go up to Ollie's and pick up some Steamed Pork Buns; then we can discuss it in greater depth on the way to Princeton. After all we'll have lots of time."
The smirk on Greg House's face spoke volumes about the fun and adventure that awaited.
__________________
The end of the arc