My Provider
Author: moondragon_kaga
Title: My Provider
Summary: In the midst of looking for House, Wilson happens to find something that he wasn't supposed to see...
Ship: House/Wilson
Challenge Number/Title: #4: Got Snark?
Quote and #: #3: "I always told them." (Wilson)
Rating: G
Warning: Extremely sappy. "Cute," in the words of my editor.
Author's Note: Uh... I'm not going to get jumped, am I? I feel like an outsider with the slash... Okay, on to the serious stuff. I wasn't able to get a hold of my beta at all, so I'm going to be editing this as I go along. Sorry.
"House?" Wilson entered the Diagnostics office, looking for his friend. He had received a page in between clinic patients and came to see what was going on. The only sign that House had been in his office within the past half hour was the two steaming cups of coffee sitting on his desk, as well as a piece of plain paper with something handwritten on it.
Looking into the conference room, Wilson saw no sign of House or his fellows, so he proceeded to sit down at his usual chair facing the desk. He was about to reach for one of the coffee cups, but the paper caught his eye. Able to read upside down quite well, he made out the words "My Provider" scrawled at the top of the page. Foregoing his coffee for a moment, he reached for the paper instead. Seeing the short lines that continued down the page, Wilson instantly recognized it as a poem. One line in particular drew his eye; "The earthy browns that led to depths unknown,"
"Sorry, Jimmy, I had to go pee-- Give me that!" House snatched the paper from Wilson's hand, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the garbage can.
"What was that?" Wilson asked, slightly shocked at House's reaction.
"Nothing."
"I didn't know you wrote poetry," Wilson said, grabbing the forgotten cup of coffee from the desk.
"I don't," House denied, sitting and grabbing his own cup. "Go ahead, Wilson, make a home out of my office when I'm not here, I don't mind," he added, clearly sarcastic.
"You paged me--and that was a poem, stop denying it," Wilson replied, a knowing look on his face. "Wait," he added, putting his cup on the desk and leaning back, "did Stacy know?"
"What do you mean?" House asked, wishing in the back of his mind that Wilson would just change the subject already.
Wilson stood, reaching into the wastebasket for the balled paper. "I'm just asking a question, no need to get defensive." Wilson had a sort of smug look on his face akin to the sort House had when he found out some secret fact. "I'm just wondering, did Stacy ever get poetry written about how her--I'm going to assume eyes--evoke such deep emotion in you? Did any of your high school girlfriends know?" he asked, obviously joking around. When he started reading the short poem from the beginning, his smile faded, and he wished he hadn't said that. When he looked up at House, the other man stood and limped toward the balcony door. Reaching toward Wilson, he tore the abused paper from Wilson's hands and balled it up again.
"I always told them. Or they always figured it out somehow, one of those two," House said looking out the window. Wilson could hear the attempted return of his original joking tone, but he could also hear House's tension underneath that. "All my many girlfriends begged me to write something for them, but the inspiration never came, not even with Stacy."
Wilson looked on, shocked at the revelation. He didn't know what to say. He was the first inspiration House had gotten for how long? Wilson had no idea how to reply to that, but settled for something simple, yet meaningful.
"Thanks."
Fin
Title: My Provider
Summary: In the midst of looking for House, Wilson happens to find something that he wasn't supposed to see...
Ship: House/Wilson
Challenge Number/Title: #4: Got Snark?
Quote and #: #3: "I always told them." (Wilson)
Rating: G
Warning: Extremely sappy. "Cute," in the words of my editor.
Author's Note: Uh... I'm not going to get jumped, am I? I feel like an outsider with the slash... Okay, on to the serious stuff. I wasn't able to get a hold of my beta at all, so I'm going to be editing this as I go along. Sorry.
"House?" Wilson entered the Diagnostics office, looking for his friend. He had received a page in between clinic patients and came to see what was going on. The only sign that House had been in his office within the past half hour was the two steaming cups of coffee sitting on his desk, as well as a piece of plain paper with something handwritten on it.
Looking into the conference room, Wilson saw no sign of House or his fellows, so he proceeded to sit down at his usual chair facing the desk. He was about to reach for one of the coffee cups, but the paper caught his eye. Able to read upside down quite well, he made out the words "My Provider" scrawled at the top of the page. Foregoing his coffee for a moment, he reached for the paper instead. Seeing the short lines that continued down the page, Wilson instantly recognized it as a poem. One line in particular drew his eye; "The earthy browns that led to depths unknown,"
"Sorry, Jimmy, I had to go pee-- Give me that!" House snatched the paper from Wilson's hand, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the garbage can.
"What was that?" Wilson asked, slightly shocked at House's reaction.
"Nothing."
"I didn't know you wrote poetry," Wilson said, grabbing the forgotten cup of coffee from the desk.
"I don't," House denied, sitting and grabbing his own cup. "Go ahead, Wilson, make a home out of my office when I'm not here, I don't mind," he added, clearly sarcastic.
"You paged me--and that was a poem, stop denying it," Wilson replied, a knowing look on his face. "Wait," he added, putting his cup on the desk and leaning back, "did Stacy know?"
"What do you mean?" House asked, wishing in the back of his mind that Wilson would just change the subject already.
Wilson stood, reaching into the wastebasket for the balled paper. "I'm just asking a question, no need to get defensive." Wilson had a sort of smug look on his face akin to the sort House had when he found out some secret fact. "I'm just wondering, did Stacy ever get poetry written about how her--I'm going to assume eyes--evoke such deep emotion in you? Did any of your high school girlfriends know?" he asked, obviously joking around. When he started reading the short poem from the beginning, his smile faded, and he wished he hadn't said that. When he looked up at House, the other man stood and limped toward the balcony door. Reaching toward Wilson, he tore the abused paper from Wilson's hands and balled it up again.
"I always told them. Or they always figured it out somehow, one of those two," House said looking out the window. Wilson could hear the attempted return of his original joking tone, but he could also hear House's tension underneath that. "All my many girlfriends begged me to write something for them, but the inspiration never came, not even with Stacy."
Wilson looked on, shocked at the revelation. He didn't know what to say. He was the first inspiration House had gotten for how long? Wilson had no idea how to reply to that, but settled for something simple, yet meaningful.
"Thanks."
Fin