Fic - Mercury (House)
I crafted fic. I haven't written anything for... ever. The last thing I recall writing is a HP ficlet.
Anyways, here 'tis: a tiny slice of House fic.
Title: Mercury
Author: Xehra (xehra1@hotmail.com)
Fandom: House
Rating: G
Summary: She didn’t ever mention what a bastard he was. Or how she couldn’t figure him out.
Author’s note: Unbeta’d. You have been warned.
*****
It was always hard, trying to describe House to people. He defied description sometimes, and all the large words she had learned in college tended to fail her whenever she was asked.
Her friends, on the rare occasions she was able to meet up with them, always badgered her with questions. About working for the Famous Doctor and what he was like really.
Mostly her replies were generic. Her work was demanding but interesting and varied. House was a Great Doctor and she was learning so much from him.
She didn’t ever mention what a bastard he was. Or how she couldn’t figure him out. His mercurial moods and depreciating wit were at times simply too lightning fast for her to keep up with, so that on occasion she just found herself staring with a vacant expression at his unshaven jowls.
There were other times she felt his blue eyes on her, piercing, expectant. At those moments she prayed and spat out some half-intelligent thing, biting her lip whilst waiting for a reaction. Good, bad, stupid. Fifty percent of the time her answers were dismissed in two seconds as preposterous, but her margin of accuracy was improving.
And at times his gaze was thoughtful, looking at her as if he’d never noticed her there before. Then she would blink and the look would be gone.
Her friends always asked about the cripple thing. If that was what made him so infamously sarcastic and mean. He was constantly in pain, poor man, poor creature. They speculated he just needed the love of a good woman to make him believe life was worth living, a shoulder to cry on and tell him everything was going to be alright.
She was never drawn into these speculations, mainly because she didn’t believe House could be cured by love. In fact, she wasn’t sure he needed curing at all. He was practically sociopathic at times, and then would turn around and do the most insane things to save a patient. And then pretend he did it to stoke his ego, that he didn’t have any empathy at all, really.
It was only when she said goodbye to her friends, kissed their cheeks and made empty promises to stay in touch that she realised just how much working for House had changed her. Now she was all about her work, diagnosing, treating, fixing people.
The strange thing was, nobody had seemed to notice. Maybe she needed a cane.
END
Feedback is like chocolate. Uh-huh.
Anyways, here 'tis: a tiny slice of House fic.
Title: Mercury
Author: Xehra (xehra1@hotmail.com)
Fandom: House
Rating: G
Summary: She didn’t ever mention what a bastard he was. Or how she couldn’t figure him out.
Author’s note: Unbeta’d. You have been warned.
*****
It was always hard, trying to describe House to people. He defied description sometimes, and all the large words she had learned in college tended to fail her whenever she was asked.
Her friends, on the rare occasions she was able to meet up with them, always badgered her with questions. About working for the Famous Doctor and what he was like really.
Mostly her replies were generic. Her work was demanding but interesting and varied. House was a Great Doctor and she was learning so much from him.
She didn’t ever mention what a bastard he was. Or how she couldn’t figure him out. His mercurial moods and depreciating wit were at times simply too lightning fast for her to keep up with, so that on occasion she just found herself staring with a vacant expression at his unshaven jowls.
There were other times she felt his blue eyes on her, piercing, expectant. At those moments she prayed and spat out some half-intelligent thing, biting her lip whilst waiting for a reaction. Good, bad, stupid. Fifty percent of the time her answers were dismissed in two seconds as preposterous, but her margin of accuracy was improving.
And at times his gaze was thoughtful, looking at her as if he’d never noticed her there before. Then she would blink and the look would be gone.
Her friends always asked about the cripple thing. If that was what made him so infamously sarcastic and mean. He was constantly in pain, poor man, poor creature. They speculated he just needed the love of a good woman to make him believe life was worth living, a shoulder to cry on and tell him everything was going to be alright.
She was never drawn into these speculations, mainly because she didn’t believe House could be cured by love. In fact, she wasn’t sure he needed curing at all. He was practically sociopathic at times, and then would turn around and do the most insane things to save a patient. And then pretend he did it to stoke his ego, that he didn’t have any empathy at all, really.
It was only when she said goodbye to her friends, kissed their cheeks and made empty promises to stay in touch that she realised just how much working for House had changed her. Now she was all about her work, diagnosing, treating, fixing people.
The strange thing was, nobody had seemed to notice. Maybe she needed a cane.
END
Feedback is like chocolate. Uh-huh.