Chapter 2: The Contest
Title: Glimmer on the Horizon
Rating: PG-13 at the worst.
Disclaimer: Not mine (unfortunately).
Spoilers: Those who have seen DEC and know of its goings-on needn't worry.
Summary: Second-guessing decisions made in the past can be a painful process...
Wordcount: In this chapter? About 1000.
Note: This is an alternate sequel to Eternity. Concrit is appreciated. Non-beta'd.
Part 1
*
“What do you want for him?”
Amber glared impatiently. “What’s this about, House…or should I say, Greg?”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” House took a step toward Amber. It might have looked like a gesture of intimacy to the unknowing passerby (assuming unknowing passersby commonly treaded their paths through Amber’s living room), but between the two doctors, it was clearly an act of menace.
“You want me to sell him to you?” Amber asked in that annoying, falsely sincere but evidently sardonic tone of voice of hers. “He’s not an object…Greg. He doesn’t have a monetary value.”
“So he’s worthless to you? Well, that makes things easier. There’s no point in keeping things of no worth.” House bit his lips together and gave CB an open-eyed stare.
“That’s not I mean, and you know that,” she replied patronizingly. Her voice quieted to that soft, dangerous volume of confidentiality. “No matter how bad you want your friend back, Greg, you’re not getting him. So you might as well stop trying.”
“You know me well enough to know that I’m not going to give up,” House informed her. “So what do you want for him?”
“Didn’t we already have this conversation-two seconds ago? I already said I’m not giving him up just so you can have your support back.”
House shuddered mentally at the eerie similarity between Wilson and Amber’s statements on the same subject, but he tried to pass it off as nothing.
“It doesn’t necessarily have to be money, you know. The fellowship is always up for grabs.”
“Don’t need it. You know that as well.”
House narrowed his eyes. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. He leaned back slightly.
“Fine then, you dictate the terms. What exactly do you want for him?”
Amber didn’t reply right away. She appeared to be deep in thought, though her eyes were still locked, unmoving, on House’s. House could almost see the different scenarios and conditions running through her mind at light speed. He dreaded what she might come up with. Though, he admitted to himself, the idea that no condition would make her give him up disturbed him even more.
“Why do you want him back so bad?” she asked, changing gears. Her eyes were still piercing into his, attempting to understand his tactics.
“He’s my friend.” House glared right back.
“From what I’ve heard, that didn’t really matter in the past.” Amber’s glare was almost strong enough to wear his down.
“Fine then,” he spat. “You want respect, right? Even if you can’t stand to be wrong, I respect you. I respect your devotion to finding the right answer, no matter what stands in the way. However,” he continued slowly, to emphasize the point, “I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. I highly doubt that I’ll ever like you. And I don’t want you to be with Wilson.”
Amber looked slightly taken aback. “Well…that’s just too bad, isn’t it?” She regained her composure. “He’s mine. You’re too late, Greg.”
“Stop calling me that,” he growled. “And what do you mean by ‘too late’?”
“Too late to have Wilson to yourself. What else do think I meant?” She smirked.
“The meaning’s still ambiguous.” House very nearly kicked himself for saying it, but it slipped out. Too late indeed-he had just dug his own grave. And Amber certainly wouldn’t have missed it.
“Oh?” she asked delicately. “Really now? I wasn’t aware that it had two meanings.” Her smirk grew.
Of course. She had known all along. House cursed mentally, but said nothing. It was beyond the point of saving himself.
“So, House wants Wilson all to himself-not Wilson’s friendship, no, or his company, but his affection. Interesting development.” Amber grinned malevolently. “Wonder if I should tell him?”
“Wouldn’t do you any good,” House said. He figured it couldn’t hurt anymore than it already had to keep talking. “It wouldn’t faze him. He thinks I’m screwing with him just so I could have him back again-friend-wise.”
“So you already tried to convince him, but when you failed, you moved onto me, thinking what? That I’d be weaker? That I’d cave and take you up on a fellowship offer? You were wrong, House. Give it up.”
House frowned darker still. “I won’t give up.”
“It’s a contest then,” Amber stated matter-of-factly. “But I promise I won’t tell him we had this conversation. Sound fair?”
“Not at all,” House grumbled. “This isn’t a contest, not a game of tug-of-war. This is a person we’re talking about.”
“Again, not something that bothered you in the past. Why so concerned about morals and principles now, House? Have you changed after all?” She crossed her arms and leaned forward to make up for House’s earlier retreat.
“Of course not. I just think that…” He paused, hesitant.
She eyed him expectantly.
“I think that he would be happier with me,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.
“Maybe that’s where you’re wrong.” Amber’s cool voice cut like a dagger through House’s thoughts. “Maybe I treat him better than you. Maybe he appreciates that I don’t try to pawn him off on other people for my own personal gain, or use him, or manipulate him, or-”
“Shut up,” House interjected. He raised his eyes again. Amber’s lips were pursed.
“You don’t have a clue about…about us.” House’s voice was low, and easily as dangerous as Amber’s. “No matter what Wilson tells you, or what you weasel out of me, you don’t know. You just…don’t know.”
Amber brought her face even closer to House’s. “Maybe you don’t have a clue about us. Ever think about that? Ever think that Wilson might be happy where he is now, that his happiness doesn’t depend on yours?”
“Yeah, I have.” House inched his own face closer, so that they were almost nose to nose. “However, the alternative always wins that argument.” He backed off and headed for the door.
“This isn’t over, you know,” Amber called after him.
“I can tell,” he muttered vehemently, before slamming the door on that hellhole.
-End of Chapter 2-
Post-Script: Okay, I finished the whole fic, attempting to have a semi-happing ending. It wasn't really happy, per se, just...at ease, if you know what I mean. But I hate it. Um, well, I guess I don't hate it, but I'm not very fond of it. It's not very IC. So I guess I'm still at the WIP stage. I might post both endings, who knows. Time will tell.
Part 3
Rating: PG-13 at the worst.
Disclaimer: Not mine (unfortunately).
Spoilers: Those who have seen DEC and know of its goings-on needn't worry.
Summary: Second-guessing decisions made in the past can be a painful process...
Wordcount: In this chapter? About 1000.
Note: This is an alternate sequel to Eternity. Concrit is appreciated. Non-beta'd.
Part 1
*
“What do you want for him?”
Amber glared impatiently. “What’s this about, House…or should I say, Greg?”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” House took a step toward Amber. It might have looked like a gesture of intimacy to the unknowing passerby (assuming unknowing passersby commonly treaded their paths through Amber’s living room), but between the two doctors, it was clearly an act of menace.
“You want me to sell him to you?” Amber asked in that annoying, falsely sincere but evidently sardonic tone of voice of hers. “He’s not an object…Greg. He doesn’t have a monetary value.”
“So he’s worthless to you? Well, that makes things easier. There’s no point in keeping things of no worth.” House bit his lips together and gave CB an open-eyed stare.
“That’s not I mean, and you know that,” she replied patronizingly. Her voice quieted to that soft, dangerous volume of confidentiality. “No matter how bad you want your friend back, Greg, you’re not getting him. So you might as well stop trying.”
“You know me well enough to know that I’m not going to give up,” House informed her. “So what do you want for him?”
“Didn’t we already have this conversation-two seconds ago? I already said I’m not giving him up just so you can have your support back.”
House shuddered mentally at the eerie similarity between Wilson and Amber’s statements on the same subject, but he tried to pass it off as nothing.
“It doesn’t necessarily have to be money, you know. The fellowship is always up for grabs.”
“Don’t need it. You know that as well.”
House narrowed his eyes. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. He leaned back slightly.
“Fine then, you dictate the terms. What exactly do you want for him?”
Amber didn’t reply right away. She appeared to be deep in thought, though her eyes were still locked, unmoving, on House’s. House could almost see the different scenarios and conditions running through her mind at light speed. He dreaded what she might come up with. Though, he admitted to himself, the idea that no condition would make her give him up disturbed him even more.
“Why do you want him back so bad?” she asked, changing gears. Her eyes were still piercing into his, attempting to understand his tactics.
“He’s my friend.” House glared right back.
“From what I’ve heard, that didn’t really matter in the past.” Amber’s glare was almost strong enough to wear his down.
“Fine then,” he spat. “You want respect, right? Even if you can’t stand to be wrong, I respect you. I respect your devotion to finding the right answer, no matter what stands in the way. However,” he continued slowly, to emphasize the point, “I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. I highly doubt that I’ll ever like you. And I don’t want you to be with Wilson.”
Amber looked slightly taken aback. “Well…that’s just too bad, isn’t it?” She regained her composure. “He’s mine. You’re too late, Greg.”
“Stop calling me that,” he growled. “And what do you mean by ‘too late’?”
“Too late to have Wilson to yourself. What else do think I meant?” She smirked.
“The meaning’s still ambiguous.” House very nearly kicked himself for saying it, but it slipped out. Too late indeed-he had just dug his own grave. And Amber certainly wouldn’t have missed it.
“Oh?” she asked delicately. “Really now? I wasn’t aware that it had two meanings.” Her smirk grew.
Of course. She had known all along. House cursed mentally, but said nothing. It was beyond the point of saving himself.
“So, House wants Wilson all to himself-not Wilson’s friendship, no, or his company, but his affection. Interesting development.” Amber grinned malevolently. “Wonder if I should tell him?”
“Wouldn’t do you any good,” House said. He figured it couldn’t hurt anymore than it already had to keep talking. “It wouldn’t faze him. He thinks I’m screwing with him just so I could have him back again-friend-wise.”
“So you already tried to convince him, but when you failed, you moved onto me, thinking what? That I’d be weaker? That I’d cave and take you up on a fellowship offer? You were wrong, House. Give it up.”
House frowned darker still. “I won’t give up.”
“It’s a contest then,” Amber stated matter-of-factly. “But I promise I won’t tell him we had this conversation. Sound fair?”
“Not at all,” House grumbled. “This isn’t a contest, not a game of tug-of-war. This is a person we’re talking about.”
“Again, not something that bothered you in the past. Why so concerned about morals and principles now, House? Have you changed after all?” She crossed her arms and leaned forward to make up for House’s earlier retreat.
“Of course not. I just think that…” He paused, hesitant.
She eyed him expectantly.
“I think that he would be happier with me,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.
“Maybe that’s where you’re wrong.” Amber’s cool voice cut like a dagger through House’s thoughts. “Maybe I treat him better than you. Maybe he appreciates that I don’t try to pawn him off on other people for my own personal gain, or use him, or manipulate him, or-”
“Shut up,” House interjected. He raised his eyes again. Amber’s lips were pursed.
“You don’t have a clue about…about us.” House’s voice was low, and easily as dangerous as Amber’s. “No matter what Wilson tells you, or what you weasel out of me, you don’t know. You just…don’t know.”
Amber brought her face even closer to House’s. “Maybe you don’t have a clue about us. Ever think about that? Ever think that Wilson might be happy where he is now, that his happiness doesn’t depend on yours?”
“Yeah, I have.” House inched his own face closer, so that they were almost nose to nose. “However, the alternative always wins that argument.” He backed off and headed for the door.
“This isn’t over, you know,” Amber called after him.
“I can tell,” he muttered vehemently, before slamming the door on that hellhole.
-End of Chapter 2-
Post-Script: Okay, I finished the whole fic, attempting to have a semi-happing ending. It wasn't really happy, per se, just...at ease, if you know what I mean. But I hate it. Um, well, I guess I don't hate it, but I'm not very fond of it. It's not very IC. So I guess I'm still at the WIP stage. I might post both endings, who knows. Time will tell.
Part 3