House M.D. -- Greg House/Brittany House -- 3 Ficlets
Title: Game Day I: Where You Lead
Characters/Pairing: Greg House/Brittany House
Prompt: #3 -- Passion
Word Count: 418
Rating: PG
Summary: Brittany prepares her basketball team in practice while House looks on.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the Carole King song "Where You Lead." Futurefic.
The squeak of soles on floorboards. The dull thud of a basketball bouncing. Heavy breathing. People yelling at each other. The swish of a ball through the weaving of a net. These are the sounds that have become Greg House's life, because they're everything in his wife's life that doesn't share a surname with her.
House picks Jackson up from day care and drives the short distance over to the university gym, coming in through the same side door and sitting in the same spot on the bleachers, six rows back. Practice is already underway by the time they get there. Sixteen able-bodied, slightly hyper young men are running up and down the court, and in the middle of it, Brittany is standing there, in a university polo shirt and dress pants just like Don Haskins used to do, shouting encouragement as they go.
He's proud of her. This is what she wanted to do, and she's doing it, even though she had to take the long way around to get there. More impressively, her fire fills Jadwin Gymnasium.
It's never been just a game to his wife. She loves this game in a way neither of them ever thought she would. She enjoys these practices, being taught as much as she is teaching. It's not just her barking orders to impressionable student-athletes. When the thundering noise of physical exertion stops, they're smiling and joking with each other, talking about plays or their next opponent. She likes these kids, and these kids like her. It's not supposed to work because she has breasts, but it does.
It works so well that she's just one of the boys.
These kids have come over to his house for dinner. They call just to talk to her and ask her advice on everything from dating to calculus homework. These are the Princeton Tigers, and they believe in what they're doing. Because when the huddle breaks up, they play so hard the whole gym seems to be shaking while his wife looks on. They'd probably jump off a cliff if she told them to, not that she would, especially since they play Penn next week.
"It's not about talent," Don Haskins once said, "it's about heart."
Brittany glances up and sees him there, smiles and waves. House smiles back at her. He doesn't know the first damn thing about basketball, but he doesn't have to. All he has to know is that his wife loves this game and he loves his wife.
Title: Game Day II: All My Life
Characters/Pairing: Greg House/Brittany House
Prompt: #3 -- Passion
Word Count: 491
Rating: G
Summary: Brittany prepares for her next basketball game against Pennsylvania.
Author's Notes: Title and cut text swiped from the Foo Fighters song "All My Life."
Basketball has never been just a game to Brittany House. It's two in the morning, her son was put to bed hours ago, and her husband has given up on waiting for her to come to bed with him. He's leaning in the bedroom doorway, watching her sitting at the kitchen table, still working on the plans for a game that is less than twenty-four hours away.
People make a lot of noise about the fact that she's a woman. She spins the classic Don Haskins line: she's just a basketball coach, she's here to win games, not to make statements. But it's about something else, too. She has sixteen young men under her command. Most of them will go on to something other than the NBA. It's her job to make sure they graduate. To make sure they are prepared for the real world. She knows how sports can change a life. Now she has to take care of them.
That's how she ends up at the table, papers scattered everywhere, reading glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose, a tired face frozen in thought. She doesn't want to make a single mistake. Not when it counts and not when the whole world is watching. And if she just prepares hard enough...
It's noble and it breaks his heart at the same time.
"Honey, you have to be up in five hours," he says quietly, waiting for her to realize he's there.
Thirty seconds later she turns her head and he can see the fatigue in her eyes. "Oh," she says softly. "Well, I'll just be another couple of minutes. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."
House knows her better than that. He limps over to stand behind her, settling his hands on her shoulders and wincing when he feels how tense she is. "You have to stop this," he mutters to her. "All you're going to do is run yourself thin and then where will you be when your team needs you?"
She doesn't answer him for a moment, just hangs her head and chews on her bottom lip in deliberation. Over a game that is more than a game that is tearing her up inside. Such is the life of an NCAA head coach. This is what she chose.
"I'm not going anywhere," she says softly. "I can't."
"You're coming to bed," he replies, "if I have to drag you away with my cane."
She laughs quietly, and finally nods, not fighting him when he takes her by the hand and pulls her away from the table. She doesn't even bother to change, just falls into bed, and he tightens his arms around her, waiting for her to fall asleep before he follows after. He knows she's dreaming of something she wants badly to control, and never will. Outside of their family, there is nothing she loves more.
He wonders what it must be like to be her.
Title: Game Day III: Remember The Name
Characters/Pairing: Greg House/Brittany House
Prompt: #3 -- Passion
Word Count: 486
Rating: G
Summary: The Princeton-Pennsylvania game has come, and it's a whole new ballgame.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the Fort Minor song "Remember The Name," also known as ESPN's 2006 Championship Week anthem.
House hasn't spoken to his wife in at least an hour. Jadwin Gymnasium is packed to capacity. That isn't supposed to happen. This is Ivy League basketball, not Duke or UCLA. But when your team is going 9-1, things change. He's sitting in the same spot, waiting for her to bring the house down.
He's memorized the Princeton pre-game procedure. They all walk onto the court together, Brittany at the head, followed by her two team captains, and the rest of the team. Because it's their house, they can play whatever music they want, and they have a thing for Michael McDonald's cover of "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." She'll be wearing a black suit, the collar of her dress shirt open so she has room to breathe while she's screaming.
Then she turns to him and smiles, mouthing that she loves him. It's about the last smile she'll crack all evening.
He's listened to all the things she's said over the days leading up to this game -- interleague rivals, standings, so on and so forth -- but not necessarily understood. All he knows is that she takes every game like a championship. One game at a time.
Because this is a home crowd, they don't boo when she's introduced. Some people still do, just because she's a woman, and he's always tempted to cane them. She never notices anymore, just shakes hands with Penn's head coach and then it's on and who cares if she has breasts, they won't win this game.
It's forty minutes of hell. She's stalking up and down the sidelines, sometimes kneeling in the corner by the scorer's table, shouting encouragement or correction to her players on the court, conferring what she sees to assistants or substitutes. They have to keep handing her water so she doesn't scream her voice raw. Sometimes she doesn't say anything and that gets disturbing. A quiet Coach House is never a good sign. She is fire and fury and she is his.
Then they win the game by eight and she actually shuts up, smiles, and takes a deep breath before she gets dragged out onto the court by some incredibly tired but happy young men who just nailed win number ten and extended their league lead.
Her batteries are drained and speaking is difficult but she celebrates anyway.
By the time he gets to her, she practically lists into his arms, panting and tired, while their son attaches himself to his mother's legs. House can't help but chuckle because he's found another way to wear her out that may actually not kill him in the process.
People need interviews and press conferences, of course, so she finally has to tear herself away and take her team to the locker room, and talk to the media. But House is still beaming. He loves to see her this alive.
She makes him feel alive again.
Characters/Pairing: Greg House/Brittany House
Prompt: #3 -- Passion
Word Count: 418
Rating: PG
Summary: Brittany prepares her basketball team in practice while House looks on.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the Carole King song "Where You Lead." Futurefic.
The squeak of soles on floorboards. The dull thud of a basketball bouncing. Heavy breathing. People yelling at each other. The swish of a ball through the weaving of a net. These are the sounds that have become Greg House's life, because they're everything in his wife's life that doesn't share a surname with her.
House picks Jackson up from day care and drives the short distance over to the university gym, coming in through the same side door and sitting in the same spot on the bleachers, six rows back. Practice is already underway by the time they get there. Sixteen able-bodied, slightly hyper young men are running up and down the court, and in the middle of it, Brittany is standing there, in a university polo shirt and dress pants just like Don Haskins used to do, shouting encouragement as they go.
He's proud of her. This is what she wanted to do, and she's doing it, even though she had to take the long way around to get there. More impressively, her fire fills Jadwin Gymnasium.
It's never been just a game to his wife. She loves this game in a way neither of them ever thought she would. She enjoys these practices, being taught as much as she is teaching. It's not just her barking orders to impressionable student-athletes. When the thundering noise of physical exertion stops, they're smiling and joking with each other, talking about plays or their next opponent. She likes these kids, and these kids like her. It's not supposed to work because she has breasts, but it does.
It works so well that she's just one of the boys.
These kids have come over to his house for dinner. They call just to talk to her and ask her advice on everything from dating to calculus homework. These are the Princeton Tigers, and they believe in what they're doing. Because when the huddle breaks up, they play so hard the whole gym seems to be shaking while his wife looks on. They'd probably jump off a cliff if she told them to, not that she would, especially since they play Penn next week.
"It's not about talent," Don Haskins once said, "it's about heart."
Brittany glances up and sees him there, smiles and waves. House smiles back at her. He doesn't know the first damn thing about basketball, but he doesn't have to. All he has to know is that his wife loves this game and he loves his wife.
Title: Game Day II: All My Life
Characters/Pairing: Greg House/Brittany House
Prompt: #3 -- Passion
Word Count: 491
Rating: G
Summary: Brittany prepares for her next basketball game against Pennsylvania.
Author's Notes: Title and cut text swiped from the Foo Fighters song "All My Life."
Basketball has never been just a game to Brittany House. It's two in the morning, her son was put to bed hours ago, and her husband has given up on waiting for her to come to bed with him. He's leaning in the bedroom doorway, watching her sitting at the kitchen table, still working on the plans for a game that is less than twenty-four hours away.
People make a lot of noise about the fact that she's a woman. She spins the classic Don Haskins line: she's just a basketball coach, she's here to win games, not to make statements. But it's about something else, too. She has sixteen young men under her command. Most of them will go on to something other than the NBA. It's her job to make sure they graduate. To make sure they are prepared for the real world. She knows how sports can change a life. Now she has to take care of them.
That's how she ends up at the table, papers scattered everywhere, reading glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose, a tired face frozen in thought. She doesn't want to make a single mistake. Not when it counts and not when the whole world is watching. And if she just prepares hard enough...
It's noble and it breaks his heart at the same time.
"Honey, you have to be up in five hours," he says quietly, waiting for her to realize he's there.
Thirty seconds later she turns her head and he can see the fatigue in her eyes. "Oh," she says softly. "Well, I'll just be another couple of minutes. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."
House knows her better than that. He limps over to stand behind her, settling his hands on her shoulders and wincing when he feels how tense she is. "You have to stop this," he mutters to her. "All you're going to do is run yourself thin and then where will you be when your team needs you?"
She doesn't answer him for a moment, just hangs her head and chews on her bottom lip in deliberation. Over a game that is more than a game that is tearing her up inside. Such is the life of an NCAA head coach. This is what she chose.
"I'm not going anywhere," she says softly. "I can't."
"You're coming to bed," he replies, "if I have to drag you away with my cane."
She laughs quietly, and finally nods, not fighting him when he takes her by the hand and pulls her away from the table. She doesn't even bother to change, just falls into bed, and he tightens his arms around her, waiting for her to fall asleep before he follows after. He knows she's dreaming of something she wants badly to control, and never will. Outside of their family, there is nothing she loves more.
He wonders what it must be like to be her.
Title: Game Day III: Remember The Name
Characters/Pairing: Greg House/Brittany House
Prompt: #3 -- Passion
Word Count: 486
Rating: G
Summary: The Princeton-Pennsylvania game has come, and it's a whole new ballgame.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the Fort Minor song "Remember The Name," also known as ESPN's 2006 Championship Week anthem.
House hasn't spoken to his wife in at least an hour. Jadwin Gymnasium is packed to capacity. That isn't supposed to happen. This is Ivy League basketball, not Duke or UCLA. But when your team is going 9-1, things change. He's sitting in the same spot, waiting for her to bring the house down.
He's memorized the Princeton pre-game procedure. They all walk onto the court together, Brittany at the head, followed by her two team captains, and the rest of the team. Because it's their house, they can play whatever music they want, and they have a thing for Michael McDonald's cover of "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." She'll be wearing a black suit, the collar of her dress shirt open so she has room to breathe while she's screaming.
Then she turns to him and smiles, mouthing that she loves him. It's about the last smile she'll crack all evening.
He's listened to all the things she's said over the days leading up to this game -- interleague rivals, standings, so on and so forth -- but not necessarily understood. All he knows is that she takes every game like a championship. One game at a time.
Because this is a home crowd, they don't boo when she's introduced. Some people still do, just because she's a woman, and he's always tempted to cane them. She never notices anymore, just shakes hands with Penn's head coach and then it's on and who cares if she has breasts, they won't win this game.
It's forty minutes of hell. She's stalking up and down the sidelines, sometimes kneeling in the corner by the scorer's table, shouting encouragement or correction to her players on the court, conferring what she sees to assistants or substitutes. They have to keep handing her water so she doesn't scream her voice raw. Sometimes she doesn't say anything and that gets disturbing. A quiet Coach House is never a good sign. She is fire and fury and she is his.
Then they win the game by eight and she actually shuts up, smiles, and takes a deep breath before she gets dragged out onto the court by some incredibly tired but happy young men who just nailed win number ten and extended their league lead.
Her batteries are drained and speaking is difficult but she celebrates anyway.
By the time he gets to her, she practically lists into his arms, panting and tired, while their son attaches himself to his mother's legs. House can't help but chuckle because he's found another way to wear her out that may actually not kill him in the process.
People need interviews and press conferences, of course, so she finally has to tear herself away and take her team to the locker room, and talk to the media. But House is still beaming. He loves to see her this alive.
She makes him feel alive again.