(no subject)
Title:Technology is Scary
Pairing:Cameron/Wilson
Prompt:29-iPod
Word Count: medium
Rating: G
Spoilers:none
Notes: The second fluff...enjoy!
She heard his voice, slightly lifted, like he was laughing at her, or something she was doing. Allison ran over her apperance, ashamed while she did it. Dress pants, shirt, her jacket. Not too much makeup, her hair up and out of her face. No, no-she didn't look like she tried to hard. Like a silly school girl with a silly crush: which was exactly what she felt like. When he came up to her, she was going through songs on her iPod. Last Christmas, her mother had bought it for her, even though she was confused by what it was exactly. Allison liked to bring it to work on slow days with no interesting patients from House.
"What's that?"
She turned around an asked, with a smile,"Are you ancient, or having a moment?" A smile from him. "It's an iPod...mp3 player." She offered it over.
He was like a little kid, looking over it's slight, pink surface. He was probably thinking along the lines of her mom-how did something so small fit in so much? She surveyed him-like a new gift or a baby, maybe like Wilson with an iPod, carefully-but lovingly-like a wife or mother. Laughing as she took it from him, and tried to show him how to switch through the songs and..most importantly, turn the volume up and down. Apparently though-he ignored her, because the buttons were easy, he probably thought that switching around and volume were on there somewhere too. Allison laughed out loud as he jumped when it came on; loud rock. Probably suprised -who knew the quiet girl who liked House's jazz listened to Ozzy in her spare time?
When he turned it off, she looked at him-careworn but kind, like a father or a kind lover, maybe. Wilson-a kind lover. It fit. The thought, in itself, was enough to make her laugh or cry. She hoped, but knew everything was against what she day dreamed about; iPod turned to soft jazz, Ella singing her into dreams. Three wives, right? Infamous around the hospital-many thanks to House, of course. And yet-she could see and understand why, and that scared her. He was kind, or appeared to be. To her he was. And that was all that mattered, right? The means could be ignored, as long as the outcome was for the good, right? Or so Brutus thought, as he looked at Ceasar.
"Suprised? My dad got me into rock." she explained.
"I was a little bit more suprised by the Latin pop."
She smiled, she liked the game. "So you missed the Japanesse folk music? And the showtunes?"
"No, I saw those. Speaking of Broadway-there's a revival of Rent in Philly. Would you like to go?" Seeing her look, he quickly added,"As friend, or co-workers, though. No one else really likes the show."
And friends-she wanted to remind him, don't end up in each other's apartments. Namely-hers. But she knew that, if he kissed her, there was a good chance that'd be where they ended up. No sex, just kissing-of course. She wasn't completly without morals. But a kiss in front of the door, a good-bye that would be repeated over the coming months. It would-it should be so easy to turn him down, and yet she heard herself say,"Yes. I'd love to go". Monster trucks or Broadway at the Academy? Was there really any difference?
Pairing:Cameron/Wilson
Prompt:29-iPod
Word Count: medium
Rating: G
Spoilers:none
Notes: The second fluff...enjoy!
She heard his voice, slightly lifted, like he was laughing at her, or something she was doing. Allison ran over her apperance, ashamed while she did it. Dress pants, shirt, her jacket. Not too much makeup, her hair up and out of her face. No, no-she didn't look like she tried to hard. Like a silly school girl with a silly crush: which was exactly what she felt like. When he came up to her, she was going through songs on her iPod. Last Christmas, her mother had bought it for her, even though she was confused by what it was exactly. Allison liked to bring it to work on slow days with no interesting patients from House.
"What's that?"
She turned around an asked, with a smile,"Are you ancient, or having a moment?" A smile from him. "It's an iPod...mp3 player." She offered it over.
He was like a little kid, looking over it's slight, pink surface. He was probably thinking along the lines of her mom-how did something so small fit in so much? She surveyed him-like a new gift or a baby, maybe like Wilson with an iPod, carefully-but lovingly-like a wife or mother. Laughing as she took it from him, and tried to show him how to switch through the songs and..most importantly, turn the volume up and down. Apparently though-he ignored her, because the buttons were easy, he probably thought that switching around and volume were on there somewhere too. Allison laughed out loud as he jumped when it came on; loud rock. Probably suprised -who knew the quiet girl who liked House's jazz listened to Ozzy in her spare time?
When he turned it off, she looked at him-careworn but kind, like a father or a kind lover, maybe. Wilson-a kind lover. It fit. The thought, in itself, was enough to make her laugh or cry. She hoped, but knew everything was against what she day dreamed about; iPod turned to soft jazz, Ella singing her into dreams. Three wives, right? Infamous around the hospital-many thanks to House, of course. And yet-she could see and understand why, and that scared her. He was kind, or appeared to be. To her he was. And that was all that mattered, right? The means could be ignored, as long as the outcome was for the good, right? Or so Brutus thought, as he looked at Ceasar.
"Suprised? My dad got me into rock." she explained.
"I was a little bit more suprised by the Latin pop."
She smiled, she liked the game. "So you missed the Japanesse folk music? And the showtunes?"
"No, I saw those. Speaking of Broadway-there's a revival of Rent in Philly. Would you like to go?" Seeing her look, he quickly added,"As friend, or co-workers, though. No one else really likes the show."
And friends-she wanted to remind him, don't end up in each other's apartments. Namely-hers. But she knew that, if he kissed her, there was a good chance that'd be where they ended up. No sex, just kissing-of course. She wasn't completly without morals. But a kiss in front of the door, a good-bye that would be repeated over the coming months. It would-it should be so easy to turn him down, and yet she heard herself say,"Yes. I'd love to go". Monster trucks or Broadway at the Academy? Was there really any difference?