"Wilson!"
House had barged into Wilson's office and found him sprawled out across his couch. Mouth wide open, and arms stretched about. He switched the lights on and Wilson flinched, and began to sit upright. He rubbed his face and stared blankly at him.
"What?"
"Didn't get enough sleep I see."
"Yeah, you?"
"Slept like a baby."
"How, the thunder was terrible last night."
"I had my ways."
Wilson looked at him curiously.
"Which would be?"
"How long you been asleep?"
He had looked away from him, trying hard to avoid the subject. Which brought Wilson to a greater suspicion.
"A while." Wilson spoke slowly.
"Surprised Cuddy hasn't gotten on your back. You hear her come in here earlier?"
"No, she's been busy, in and out of her office. She can't seem to keep herself stationary, oddly enough."
"Interesting."
Wilson got up from the sofá and walked over to House. They both stood in the doorway as Wilson tried to convince him to give an explanation.
"Did something happen with you guys last night?"
"No."
"Seriously."
"SERIOUSLY."
"You guys didn't...."
"I'd be singing."
"Well. It's hard to recognize things with you sometimes."
Suddenly, Cuddy walked por Wilson's office and handed House a file. She looked at him for a brief moment before explaining the mans' symptoms.
"Thirty, male, car accident, laceration on the arm and leg, sudden fever 104.7 and rising."
"Grazie. Surprised I came?"
"No. You aren't the type to...leave around, unfinished---business."
"Right."
Wilson looked back and forth at them, trying to figure out something. His face was very confused, feeling so out of the loop.
"Okay well."
She started walking away and began to hum the ballad House had been playing earlier this morning. As she did so, for a brief moment, she turned around and looked at them before making her way back to the clinic.
"Oh yeah, something definitely didn't happen between you two," Wilson uttered with sarcasm.
House grinned and limped away back to his own office as Wilson stood confused and curious of what had just taken place.
:::
"What was that?"
Wilson had barged into Cuddy's office about five minutos after she had left him and House. She was startled at his presence and offended por his accusation.
"What was what?"
"Your conversation with him. That was probably the strangest conversation you guys have had with each other. And when I mean strange I mean normal, because normal is strange for you two, if that made sense."
"Our conversation was about a patient."
"Your conversation was a euphemism for what happened last night."
"Nothing happened last night."
"I beg to differ."
"You wanna bet?"
"Just tell me what's going on."
"I stayed over, okay?"
She went back to her work, as if she said nothing, but Wilson stood in disbelief, with his eyes wide and jaw slightly hanging. She refused to look back up as he asked her several mais questions.
"You stayed over as in "stayed" over or as in "slept" over? Why did you? Where did you sleep?"
"I--slept on his couch."
"Oh good, I was terrified for what that pergunta would lead to. Why did you sleep there?"
"I had originally come to ask when he would be coming back to work. When the storm hit, we decided I should stay."
"But something happened?"
"Nothing happened."
"It's apparently good for you. You were the one singing."
"He just--kissed me."
"And?"
"He kissed me."
Wilson scoffed. This was nothing new, it's value was meaningless. His face was slightly let down and disappointed.
"God. Call me when something actually happens between you two."
She finally looked up and saw that Wilson was slowly walking out of her office. Her face was slightly shocked.
"Its kind of a good thing when an narcissistic pain in the bunda confesses-or shows emotion in an action."
"That wasn't something deep. That wasn't like some miracle."
"It wouldn't be if he hadn't played it all out por himself."
"He kissed you?"
"And I didn't lead him in on it."
He stopped at the door for a moment before walking out, finally ending the conversation.
---
Hours later...
5:00 p.m.
House was dead asleep on his chair. His feet were overlapping and propped up on his escrivaninha, mesa with his cane laying across his lap. His traça, mariposa was half open as air escaped out, along with the echoing snores. He remained like this for several minutos before Cuddy had walked in to find him. When she walked in, she moved slow over to his desk, making sure not to wake him. When she walked over to his desk, she kept her face locked on his. When he was asleep, he looked at peace, and so innocent. At least, mais so than he does when he's awake. She bent down, making sure to keep a steady balance as she leveled herself with him. She moved her hands gently and closed his mouth, then she pressed his nostrils together, keeping air from entering his body. After at least a minute, he jolted upward from his seat, dropping his legs to the floor along with his cane. He gasped once for air before turning to see the culprit.
"Shoulda known."
"Ha."
He laid back in his chair to level his head with her as they continued talking.
"What do you want?"
"I want my clinic hours done."
"I just got back."
"Which is why, I want my clinic hours done."
"Ugh. You killjoy."
"There's no joy to kill."
"Shut up. There's my rest that you killed."
"You gonna kiss me or not?"
His face tensed. His coração raced a little, as he stared her down.
"You figure, you come in, tease me about work, then ask for a romantic gesture."
"No?"
"You know that isn't my process."
"Fine."
She smiled, stood up and began to walk out.
"By the way, you're bunda looks like it's shrunken a bit. Still looks pretty firm though."
She stopped dead in her tracks and slowly turned around. Mouth dropped and glaring eyes, she stood motionless. Then he got up from his escrivaninha, mesa and limped over to her. So close that his head was practically arching over.
"This is my process."
"Granted."
He tossed his cane on his recliner and then leaned in. She wrapped her hands around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up off the ground. Her head was slanted high above him as they walked towards the wall. It helped him support her better than por one leg alone. Every now and again they released for brief breathes of air, which were accompanied with smiles from both sides. Suddenly, the doors opened. Wilson walked in. He managed to catch the show before him, but he ignored it. He smiled at first, but then walked in normally, and went for House's desk. He raided the drawers for something, money what it appeared to be and left, eyes averted, after saying,
"Have fun, be safe."
And he left the two as the sun shone through the windows on their faces, making the room glow in vast streaks before descending behind the towering trees of Princeton.
House had barged into Wilson's office and found him sprawled out across his couch. Mouth wide open, and arms stretched about. He switched the lights on and Wilson flinched, and began to sit upright. He rubbed his face and stared blankly at him.
"What?"
"Didn't get enough sleep I see."
"Yeah, you?"
"Slept like a baby."
"How, the thunder was terrible last night."
"I had my ways."
Wilson looked at him curiously.
"Which would be?"
"How long you been asleep?"
He had looked away from him, trying hard to avoid the subject. Which brought Wilson to a greater suspicion.
"A while." Wilson spoke slowly.
"Surprised Cuddy hasn't gotten on your back. You hear her come in here earlier?"
"No, she's been busy, in and out of her office. She can't seem to keep herself stationary, oddly enough."
"Interesting."
Wilson got up from the sofá and walked over to House. They both stood in the doorway as Wilson tried to convince him to give an explanation.
"Did something happen with you guys last night?"
"No."
"Seriously."
"SERIOUSLY."
"You guys didn't...."
"I'd be singing."
"Well. It's hard to recognize things with you sometimes."
Suddenly, Cuddy walked por Wilson's office and handed House a file. She looked at him for a brief moment before explaining the mans' symptoms.
"Thirty, male, car accident, laceration on the arm and leg, sudden fever 104.7 and rising."
"Grazie. Surprised I came?"
"No. You aren't the type to...leave around, unfinished---business."
"Right."
Wilson looked back and forth at them, trying to figure out something. His face was very confused, feeling so out of the loop.
"Okay well."
She started walking away and began to hum the ballad House had been playing earlier this morning. As she did so, for a brief moment, she turned around and looked at them before making her way back to the clinic.
"Oh yeah, something definitely didn't happen between you two," Wilson uttered with sarcasm.
House grinned and limped away back to his own office as Wilson stood confused and curious of what had just taken place.
:::
"What was that?"
Wilson had barged into Cuddy's office about five minutos after she had left him and House. She was startled at his presence and offended por his accusation.
"What was what?"
"Your conversation with him. That was probably the strangest conversation you guys have had with each other. And when I mean strange I mean normal, because normal is strange for you two, if that made sense."
"Our conversation was about a patient."
"Your conversation was a euphemism for what happened last night."
"Nothing happened last night."
"I beg to differ."
"You wanna bet?"
"Just tell me what's going on."
"I stayed over, okay?"
She went back to her work, as if she said nothing, but Wilson stood in disbelief, with his eyes wide and jaw slightly hanging. She refused to look back up as he asked her several mais questions.
"You stayed over as in "stayed" over or as in "slept" over? Why did you? Where did you sleep?"
"I--slept on his couch."
"Oh good, I was terrified for what that pergunta would lead to. Why did you sleep there?"
"I had originally come to ask when he would be coming back to work. When the storm hit, we decided I should stay."
"But something happened?"
"Nothing happened."
"It's apparently good for you. You were the one singing."
"He just--kissed me."
"And?"
"He kissed me."
Wilson scoffed. This was nothing new, it's value was meaningless. His face was slightly let down and disappointed.
"God. Call me when something actually happens between you two."
She finally looked up and saw that Wilson was slowly walking out of her office. Her face was slightly shocked.
"Its kind of a good thing when an narcissistic pain in the bunda confesses-or shows emotion in an action."
"That wasn't something deep. That wasn't like some miracle."
"It wouldn't be if he hadn't played it all out por himself."
"He kissed you?"
"And I didn't lead him in on it."
He stopped at the door for a moment before walking out, finally ending the conversation.
---
Hours later...
5:00 p.m.
House was dead asleep on his chair. His feet were overlapping and propped up on his escrivaninha, mesa with his cane laying across his lap. His traça, mariposa was half open as air escaped out, along with the echoing snores. He remained like this for several minutos before Cuddy had walked in to find him. When she walked in, she moved slow over to his desk, making sure not to wake him. When she walked over to his desk, she kept her face locked on his. When he was asleep, he looked at peace, and so innocent. At least, mais so than he does when he's awake. She bent down, making sure to keep a steady balance as she leveled herself with him. She moved her hands gently and closed his mouth, then she pressed his nostrils together, keeping air from entering his body. After at least a minute, he jolted upward from his seat, dropping his legs to the floor along with his cane. He gasped once for air before turning to see the culprit.
"Shoulda known."
"Ha."
He laid back in his chair to level his head with her as they continued talking.
"What do you want?"
"I want my clinic hours done."
"I just got back."
"Which is why, I want my clinic hours done."
"Ugh. You killjoy."
"There's no joy to kill."
"Shut up. There's my rest that you killed."
"You gonna kiss me or not?"
His face tensed. His coração raced a little, as he stared her down.
"You figure, you come in, tease me about work, then ask for a romantic gesture."
"No?"
"You know that isn't my process."
"Fine."
She smiled, stood up and began to walk out.
"By the way, you're bunda looks like it's shrunken a bit. Still looks pretty firm though."
She stopped dead in her tracks and slowly turned around. Mouth dropped and glaring eyes, she stood motionless. Then he got up from his escrivaninha, mesa and limped over to her. So close that his head was practically arching over.
"This is my process."
"Granted."
He tossed his cane on his recliner and then leaned in. She wrapped her hands around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up off the ground. Her head was slanted high above him as they walked towards the wall. It helped him support her better than por one leg alone. Every now and again they released for brief breathes of air, which were accompanied with smiles from both sides. Suddenly, the doors opened. Wilson walked in. He managed to catch the show before him, but he ignored it. He smiled at first, but then walked in normally, and went for House's desk. He raided the drawers for something, money what it appeared to be and left, eyes averted, after saying,
"Have fun, be safe."
And he left the two as the sun shone through the windows on their faces, making the room glow in vast streaks before descending behind the towering trees of Princeton.
