TtM - Prompt #223 - Beowulf - The Great House Plant Massacre - House
Another week, another Taming the Muse (tamingthemuse) prompt. WEEK SEVEN - WORDCOUNT 980
Title: The Great House Plant Massacre
Fandom: House
Prompt: #223 - Beowulf
Warnings:
Rating: G
Pairing: House/Wilson
Summary: "You got a cat."
Disclaimer: blahblahblah not mine blahblahblah ya'll know the drill blahblahblah nobody reads this anyways blahblahblah
AN: I apologize for the bad name pun. I think it's funny, though. :) Also, the Beowulf in this story is based on a real life Beowulf who was named for Wufei's cat Beowulf from Sunhawk's ION arc, which is where the whole mindworm started.
“You got a cat.”
House glanced up from where he was watching the kitten stalk across the coffee table, “And a ficus.”
Wilson ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but why did you get a cat?”
“Because of the ficus.” With a poor attempt at a charming smile, House pointed over his shoulder at the twisted tree sitting in a cheerfully painted pot by the piano.
When that seemed to be sum total of the explanation, Wilson forced himself to count backwards from ten, “What does the cat have to do with the ficus?”
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” House shot back without missing a beat.
The kitten, who had just found the remote and was preparing to pounce for the kill, was distracted by Wilson throwing himself bodily onto the couch. “Fine. What’s for dinner?”
“Chinese, and you’re buying.”
“Of course.”
****
Two weeks later, he’d pretty much forgotten the incident except for the fact that Cameron just about gave the whole Diagnostic department sugar shock when she met the stupid cat. He should have known better, really. House always liked to set his prey up far enough in advance that they had dug themselves plenty deep by the time he came around.
“Beowulf killed Sam,” House said with cheerfully faked solemnity as he snatched a chip off Wilson’s lunch tray.
“What?” He didn’t bother trying to protect his plate; he’d hidden a bag of Chex Mix in his desk for later.
“Beowulf killed Sam.” When he continued to look completely blank, House sighed theatrically, “Keep up with the class, Wilson. Beowulf, my cat, killed Sam the Ficus.”
“You named your cat Beowulf? That thing weighs half a pound! How did it kill a six foot tall tree?” House just smiled and popped another chip in his mouth.
****
Two days later, Wilson poked his head into House’s office and was surprised to see a terracotta pot full of cheerful blue flowers sitting on his desk. “What’s that?”
“Bluebonnet. Got it from a patient.” House didn’t even look back as he thumped his way out the door toward the cafeteria.
“You. Got flowers. From a patient?” he asked incredulously as he fell into step.
“Some people have manners.”
“I assume you’re excluding yourself from that group.”
“Of course, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take advantage of the poor suckers.”
“Uh huh.”
****
“Beowulf killed Bonnie.” House announced without looking up as Wilson let himself in that Friday. He was lazily stirring the potting soil on the floor with a broom. The cat was sitting on the piano looking proud of itself.
“Bonnie the Bluebonnet?” House and the cat exchanged a glance that said they thought maybe he wasn’t as stupid as he looked. “I’ll get the dustpan.”
“Nah, leave it. Show’s starting soon anyways. Did you bring the pizza?”
“It’s being delivered. I thought it might beat me here.”
“You just want to get out of paying.”
“You’ve caught on to my nefarious plan, now I’ll have to kill you.” There was a knock on the door, and Wilson sighed and pulled out his wallet as he went to open it. The cat hopped off the piano and went to sit on the coffee table, looking expectant. House gave it a piece of pepperoni off his first slice of pizza.
*****
On Monday morning, Wilson ran into Cuddy carrying a large potted plant, “Where’s House?”
He paused to think about that for a moment, “Monday… 9am… At home asleep would be my guess.”
She gave an exasperated sigh and shoved the pot at him, “Here. When he gets here, tell him to stop sending himself plants that I have to sign for.” She turned and clicked her way back down the hall before he could reply.
The dark green foliage tickled his nose and the cheerful yellow flowers looked vaguely familiar. A handwritten label pinned to the pot proclaimed it ‘Julie the Jerusalem Sage.’
*****
“So, has Beowulf killed Julie yet?” he glanced at House as he set is lunch tray down on Thursday.
Without looking up from his DS, House grumbled, “No, but I have high hopes for the weekend.”
*****
On Saturday, Wilson stopped by the nursery on his way to dinner. When he let himself in, the only sign of poor Julie was a tangled mess of yellow flowers and pottery shards in the trash. Setting his burden on the kitchen counter, he went and leaned casually against the fridge and waited for House.
The sound of the toilet flushing heralded House’s entrance, the cat running ahead of him and jumping onto the counter to inspect the Indian food Wilson had brought. Then both man and cat were distracted by the other item on the counter.
It was in a manly, and sturdy, metal planter with a smooth contemporary finish. There was a high tech self-watering system, push resistant scratch guards on the bottom, and an ID tag done in military style that proclaimed the plant ‘James the Catnip.’ Beowulf had totally forgotten that there was such a thing as humans on the planet, much less in the room. It was snuffing and licking and purring ecstatically.
House was silent for long moments, watching the cat in its paroxysms of joy. Clearing his throat, he finally glanced at Wilson out of the corner of his eye and muttered, “Beowulf really loves James.”
“James really loves him, too,” he said just as quietly. They stood in silence for a few more moments, and then House grabbed the food and went and settled in the living room.
It wasn’t until Wilson was at the front door about to leave that House commented idly, “Beowulf’s a girl.”
Wilson glanced back over his shoulder at House’s screamingly blank expression, then slowly and pointedly shut the door, “I know.”
Title: The Great House Plant Massacre
Fandom: House
Prompt: #223 - Beowulf
Warnings:
Rating: G
Pairing: House/Wilson
Summary: "You got a cat."
Disclaimer: blahblahblah not mine blahblahblah ya'll know the drill blahblahblah nobody reads this anyways blahblahblah
AN: I apologize for the bad name pun. I think it's funny, though. :) Also, the Beowulf in this story is based on a real life Beowulf who was named for Wufei's cat Beowulf from Sunhawk's ION arc, which is where the whole mindworm started.
“You got a cat.”
House glanced up from where he was watching the kitten stalk across the coffee table, “And a ficus.”
Wilson ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but why did you get a cat?”
“Because of the ficus.” With a poor attempt at a charming smile, House pointed over his shoulder at the twisted tree sitting in a cheerfully painted pot by the piano.
When that seemed to be sum total of the explanation, Wilson forced himself to count backwards from ten, “What does the cat have to do with the ficus?”
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” House shot back without missing a beat.
The kitten, who had just found the remote and was preparing to pounce for the kill, was distracted by Wilson throwing himself bodily onto the couch. “Fine. What’s for dinner?”
“Chinese, and you’re buying.”
“Of course.”
****
Two weeks later, he’d pretty much forgotten the incident except for the fact that Cameron just about gave the whole Diagnostic department sugar shock when she met the stupid cat. He should have known better, really. House always liked to set his prey up far enough in advance that they had dug themselves plenty deep by the time he came around.
“Beowulf killed Sam,” House said with cheerfully faked solemnity as he snatched a chip off Wilson’s lunch tray.
“What?” He didn’t bother trying to protect his plate; he’d hidden a bag of Chex Mix in his desk for later.
“Beowulf killed Sam.” When he continued to look completely blank, House sighed theatrically, “Keep up with the class, Wilson. Beowulf, my cat, killed Sam the Ficus.”
“You named your cat Beowulf? That thing weighs half a pound! How did it kill a six foot tall tree?” House just smiled and popped another chip in his mouth.
****
Two days later, Wilson poked his head into House’s office and was surprised to see a terracotta pot full of cheerful blue flowers sitting on his desk. “What’s that?”
“Bluebonnet. Got it from a patient.” House didn’t even look back as he thumped his way out the door toward the cafeteria.
“You. Got flowers. From a patient?” he asked incredulously as he fell into step.
“Some people have manners.”
“I assume you’re excluding yourself from that group.”
“Of course, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take advantage of the poor suckers.”
“Uh huh.”
****
“Beowulf killed Bonnie.” House announced without looking up as Wilson let himself in that Friday. He was lazily stirring the potting soil on the floor with a broom. The cat was sitting on the piano looking proud of itself.
“Bonnie the Bluebonnet?” House and the cat exchanged a glance that said they thought maybe he wasn’t as stupid as he looked. “I’ll get the dustpan.”
“Nah, leave it. Show’s starting soon anyways. Did you bring the pizza?”
“It’s being delivered. I thought it might beat me here.”
“You just want to get out of paying.”
“You’ve caught on to my nefarious plan, now I’ll have to kill you.” There was a knock on the door, and Wilson sighed and pulled out his wallet as he went to open it. The cat hopped off the piano and went to sit on the coffee table, looking expectant. House gave it a piece of pepperoni off his first slice of pizza.
*****
On Monday morning, Wilson ran into Cuddy carrying a large potted plant, “Where’s House?”
He paused to think about that for a moment, “Monday… 9am… At home asleep would be my guess.”
She gave an exasperated sigh and shoved the pot at him, “Here. When he gets here, tell him to stop sending himself plants that I have to sign for.” She turned and clicked her way back down the hall before he could reply.
The dark green foliage tickled his nose and the cheerful yellow flowers looked vaguely familiar. A handwritten label pinned to the pot proclaimed it ‘Julie the Jerusalem Sage.’
*****
“So, has Beowulf killed Julie yet?” he glanced at House as he set is lunch tray down on Thursday.
Without looking up from his DS, House grumbled, “No, but I have high hopes for the weekend.”
*****
On Saturday, Wilson stopped by the nursery on his way to dinner. When he let himself in, the only sign of poor Julie was a tangled mess of yellow flowers and pottery shards in the trash. Setting his burden on the kitchen counter, he went and leaned casually against the fridge and waited for House.
The sound of the toilet flushing heralded House’s entrance, the cat running ahead of him and jumping onto the counter to inspect the Indian food Wilson had brought. Then both man and cat were distracted by the other item on the counter.
It was in a manly, and sturdy, metal planter with a smooth contemporary finish. There was a high tech self-watering system, push resistant scratch guards on the bottom, and an ID tag done in military style that proclaimed the plant ‘James the Catnip.’ Beowulf had totally forgotten that there was such a thing as humans on the planet, much less in the room. It was snuffing and licking and purring ecstatically.
House was silent for long moments, watching the cat in its paroxysms of joy. Clearing his throat, he finally glanced at Wilson out of the corner of his eye and muttered, “Beowulf really loves James.”
“James really loves him, too,” he said just as quietly. They stood in silence for a few more moments, and then House grabbed the food and went and settled in the living room.
It wasn’t until Wilson was at the front door about to leave that House commented idly, “Beowulf’s a girl.”
Wilson glanced back over his shoulder at House’s screamingly blank expression, then slowly and pointedly shut the door, “I know.”