Mind Games
Title: Mind Games (word count: 2,143)
Fandom: House m.d.
Summary: This drabble was inspired by the one scene I got to see of 4x13, so it's kind of spoilery for that particular episode. When it comes to rest of season 4, I'm mostly blisfully ignorant, because it hasn't aired here yet. Shall I say luckily?
Rating: What about Teen for this one?
Disclaimer: Written out of fan-appreciation I do neither own House m.d. nor any other characters that appear on that show, I just borrowed them to play around with, so don't sue, please?
He had turned up at exactly 11 pm, which was, at least by his standards, quite the achievement. She was starting to get suspicious by the time the reached McGinty’s without experiencing any kind of mishaps on the way there. This was House after all. With him around, things rarely went as smoothly as one would expect them to. She wasn’t exactly waiting for something bad to happen, but when it did, it would at least not catch her by surprise.
They entered the bar, immediately submerged by its atmosphere: the sound of different conversations mixing with each other, music playing in the background, the clinging of glasses. It was noisy, but not in an unpleasant way. If she had to pick one adjective to describe the place, it probably would have been ‘laid-back’ and that was exactly the reason why she had suggested they’d go there in the first place. One would have to make an effort to feel uncomfortable here. Apparently House managed to nevertheless and that quite effortlessly.
For some inexplicable reason he froze immediately after the first few feeble steps inside. She stepped next to him watching him from the corner of her eyes, trying to be subtle about the fact that his reaction preoccupied her. She waited impatiently for him to speak his verdict.
“This won’t work,” he said after a while, observing his surroundings critically through narrowed eyes.
She sighed. “Why?”
“Too normal,” he answered.
He threw her a sideways glance, only to check whether the quizzical expression he half expected to see on her face was really there. It was. So further explanation was needed, which was something he wasn’t particularly keen on offering.
“I already knew you were,” she paused contemplating her choice of words, “eccentric, but that’s certainly taking it to new extremes.”
“Well, you wouldn’t want to have a repeat performance from last time, would you? Unless you’re in for that masochistic crap, which I expect you to for some reason. After all you’ve been with pretty boy for almost a year,” he threw back at her, already making his way towards the door.
“I didn’t know you were keeping track of the time,” she answered, smiling smugly at his retreating back as she followed a few steps behind. “So is that’s all? We’re just going to shake hands then and go our separate ways?”
At that he stopped and turned around to fix her with a disapproving frown. “Do you want it to be?”
For some reason this moment seemed decisive. A year back she would have given a straight forward answer, now she preferred to conceal it in a sarcastic comment like liquor filling in a chocolate truffle. He had been a good teacher. “Well, the prospect of stretching out in front of the TV with a glass of wine is quite tempting actually…Tell me what you have in mind and maybe I’ll tag along. That is if it sounds interesting.”
“I just wanted to hear a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’,” he looked at her sternly. “So?”
For some reason she only managed to nod at him in silent agreement, her expression grim and somewhat resigned. He just smiled, knowing fully well that once again he had come out the winner of this little game, but only with some difficulty. She was slowly but steadily growing into a worthy adversary. Fortunately he liked the competition.
*
It was Andrew’s first week working at the fast food joint. He wasn’t the first in his family to do so. As a matter of fact his older brother had started this particular family tradition, trying to save enough money for a car. After the car it had been college. It had all worked out fine for him, so Andrew was determined to follow in his footsteps.
He’d even inherited his t-shirt and the stupid little cap they were supposed to wear while doing things as intellectually taxing as flipping burgers and salting fries that were dripping with fat. What he didn’t expect, however, was that he would have to put up with demanding and down-right evil customers, such as the middle-aged tall man currently standing in front of him.
He was observing the board over their heads pensively sucking on his bottom lip. Since they was no one waiting in line behind him, except for that gorgeous blonde that had come in with him, he had all the time in the world. Apparently he also had every intention on taking it, just to torture Andrew.
“So, the double-cheeseburger special, the chicken wings, extra large fries….What sauce would you like to go with it, sir?” Andrew asked anxious to speed up the decision making process.
“No, idea,” the man grinned at him cheerfully, apparently determined to make his life a living hell. “Andrew,” he read his name tag with a glint in his eye that left the owner of said name with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Tell me, Andrew, what do you have to offer?”
“We’ve got honey mustard, barbecue, sweet & sour, honey, ketchup, hot mustard, chilli and plum,” he rambled out all sauces in one breath.
The man opposite of him looked pensive, then turned around to the woman, who was obviously his girlfriend, though Andrew was by now convinced that bastard didn’t deserve her at all.
“What do you think, honey?” House droned out in an exaggeratedly sweet voice. “I think I’ve got some trouble making up my mind today. Oh, and do you want to get the Cesar’s salad so we can share?”
She let out an annoyed huff, apparently also not too happy with her boyfriend’s behaviour. “Ketchup will do just fine,” she told Andrew.
He pressed the corresponding button on the cash register with a certain amount of satisfaction, the kind you felt after completing a particular taxing task.
“And he’ll have a Coke to go with it,” she added determinedly before House could continue playing his game of torture with the poor pimple faced teenager behind the desk.
“Don’t I get to have any say in that?” House looked at Cameron with a mock pout.
“No, not anymore,” she smiled and gently shoved him aside to place her own order, for which she needed approximately 30 seconds, instead of the those excruciating 30 minutes House had applied to the task.
“I want a Strawberry Frosty,” her date whined in the background, apparently set on behaving like a five-year-old for the better part of the night.
“Oh my God!” she rolled her eyes dramatically. House had to absolutely love this. Not only did he get to torture a poor teenager, flipping burgers to able to pay for college, he also got an additional rise out of her as well, which would clearly be marked up as bonus in his twisted, but brilliant mind.
“Get him his damned Frosty!” Cameron growled at the young man, before she indicated House to pay with a sharp nod of her head. She stalked off right after that, leaving House to deal with the tray laden with food all one his own. It turned out an impossible task thanks to his cane.
“Give me a hand, will you?” he looked at the young man behind the desk with a disapproving frown. He didn’t like having to ask for help.
Andrew didn’t budge an inch. After the way this man had treated him, the hell he was going to help him out now.
“You know I can always play the cripple card.” The teenager gulped overcome by a dreadful sense of foreboding. “First week on the job, right? I bet your boss wouldn’t take it too well if he heard any complaints about you…”
Andrew was around the corner in the blink of an eye. House followed him with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, as the boy carried the tray over to the table were Cameron was waiting for him. After having disposed of it, Andrew disappeared as fast as possible, leaving the couple alone.
“Nice place,” House settled in opposite of Cameron still smirking.
“Yeah, wonderful,” she replied as she snatched her salad from the tray.
“You seem a bit tetchy,” he observed.
“Do I?” she asked sarcastically.
“It’s barely noticeable,” he made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
“Was that really necessary?” Cameron asked indicating the desk with a nod.
“No, but it was fun.”
She sighed. He would never change. Not in a million years. The scary thing about it was that she was getting used to him - his character, his way of dealing with people. She could either accept it or despair. She chose not to despair and stole one of his fries instead and succeeded because he was currently engrossed taking a huge bite of his burger, for which two hands were needed. The temptation of bringing matters to a head was too strong, so she dipped the fry into the foamy crown of the Frosty right before his comically widened eyes.
“You’re disgusting,” he managed to get out after he had swallowed down the food in his mouth.
“Really, House, so quick to judge when you haven’t even given it a try…”
“Oh, God! This can only mean one thing…Chase got you pregnant!” he looked at her in mock horror. “Well, that would sort of put a damper on our budding romance, ‘cause I don’t date knocked up women. Could give them all sorts of strange ideas, like trying to convince me I’m the father.”
She actually laughed at that. “I’m not pregnant and if I was, you wouldn’t be my first choice as a foster father.”
“Ouch! Then who would be?”
“Wilson.”
“Wilson?” He repeated in a slightly higher pitch. “Now you’re trying to be mean on purpose.”
“Really? Look how you’ve just treated that poor fast food guy! If that’s any indication of how you’d behave around your children…Let’s just say I would have been better of with Tritter.”
“Now, Cameron, that comment was really tasteless and very far beneath the belt,” he said accusingly, while he dipped one of his fries into the Frosty as well. He thoughtfully chewed on it for a while, then spoke his verdict sounding almost appreciative. “But that’s actually tasty. You may be on to something there.”
“You’re the first to think so…”
“A match made in heaven. Aren’t we?” His comment was only half-heartedly sarcastic and made her wonder if he was partly serious. She was momentarily taken aback.
“House, I think I’m not ready yet…”
“Hush!”
“You don’t even know what I’m trying to say,” she said indignantly.
“Oh, but I do,” he looked at her intently. The unidentifiable expression in his eyes made her shiver ever so slightly. It was unidentifiable, because she had never seen it before. She was still trying to pinpoint it when he continued to speak. “I’m not ready yet either.”
She held his gaze, nodding slowly. The realization of what his truly words meant, however, began to dawn on her only gradually. When she was finally able to tear away from his hypnotizing blue eyes, she didn’t know how much time had passed. But apparently it had been more than she suspected.
“Shit! Now my burger’s cold.” House rolled his eyes in frustration. “Hey, kid!” he yelled across the diner.
*
It had despite all turned out to be a pleasant evening and to her surprise he had actually decided to be gentlemanly for once and walk her back to her car, though he quickly burst that particular bubble by declaring that he had parked his motorcycle somewhere near there.
“Okay, then. This is me, I guess…,” she said, nervously fingering her keys inside her coat pocket.
“Yeah,” he answered simply, about to walk away from her.
“Listen,” she blurted out abruptly, immediately regretting that minor glitch, knowing fully well that now it was too late to back-pedal. “I just want to know. Was that…I don’t know…one of those just this once and then never again kind of deals?”
He just stood at there looking at her quietly, half of his face hidden in the shadows. She had the distinct feeling of being seized up and judged once again like he had done so many times before. He often seemed to feel the need re-evaluate her. More than with other people at least. By now she had gotten used to it, so she bore it without flinching.
He never answered, instead he took a step towards her. She was surprised, but didn’t retreat, waiting curiously what was about to happen. Her heart was beating wildly inside her chest when he bent down to kiss her on the cheek, his three-day stubble grazing her skin.
“No, it wasn’t,” he threw her one last lope-sided smirk before he turned and left her standing there completely and utterly speechless.
I finally relent. TBC :)
Fandom: House m.d.
Summary: This drabble was inspired by the one scene I got to see of 4x13, so it's kind of spoilery for that particular episode. When it comes to rest of season 4, I'm mostly blisfully ignorant, because it hasn't aired here yet. Shall I say luckily?
Rating: What about Teen for this one?
Disclaimer: Written out of fan-appreciation I do neither own House m.d. nor any other characters that appear on that show, I just borrowed them to play around with, so don't sue, please?
He had turned up at exactly 11 pm, which was, at least by his standards, quite the achievement. She was starting to get suspicious by the time the reached McGinty’s without experiencing any kind of mishaps on the way there. This was House after all. With him around, things rarely went as smoothly as one would expect them to. She wasn’t exactly waiting for something bad to happen, but when it did, it would at least not catch her by surprise.
They entered the bar, immediately submerged by its atmosphere: the sound of different conversations mixing with each other, music playing in the background, the clinging of glasses. It was noisy, but not in an unpleasant way. If she had to pick one adjective to describe the place, it probably would have been ‘laid-back’ and that was exactly the reason why she had suggested they’d go there in the first place. One would have to make an effort to feel uncomfortable here. Apparently House managed to nevertheless and that quite effortlessly.
For some inexplicable reason he froze immediately after the first few feeble steps inside. She stepped next to him watching him from the corner of her eyes, trying to be subtle about the fact that his reaction preoccupied her. She waited impatiently for him to speak his verdict.
“This won’t work,” he said after a while, observing his surroundings critically through narrowed eyes.
She sighed. “Why?”
“Too normal,” he answered.
He threw her a sideways glance, only to check whether the quizzical expression he half expected to see on her face was really there. It was. So further explanation was needed, which was something he wasn’t particularly keen on offering.
“I already knew you were,” she paused contemplating her choice of words, “eccentric, but that’s certainly taking it to new extremes.”
“Well, you wouldn’t want to have a repeat performance from last time, would you? Unless you’re in for that masochistic crap, which I expect you to for some reason. After all you’ve been with pretty boy for almost a year,” he threw back at her, already making his way towards the door.
“I didn’t know you were keeping track of the time,” she answered, smiling smugly at his retreating back as she followed a few steps behind. “So is that’s all? We’re just going to shake hands then and go our separate ways?”
At that he stopped and turned around to fix her with a disapproving frown. “Do you want it to be?”
For some reason this moment seemed decisive. A year back she would have given a straight forward answer, now she preferred to conceal it in a sarcastic comment like liquor filling in a chocolate truffle. He had been a good teacher. “Well, the prospect of stretching out in front of the TV with a glass of wine is quite tempting actually…Tell me what you have in mind and maybe I’ll tag along. That is if it sounds interesting.”
“I just wanted to hear a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’,” he looked at her sternly. “So?”
For some reason she only managed to nod at him in silent agreement, her expression grim and somewhat resigned. He just smiled, knowing fully well that once again he had come out the winner of this little game, but only with some difficulty. She was slowly but steadily growing into a worthy adversary. Fortunately he liked the competition.
*
It was Andrew’s first week working at the fast food joint. He wasn’t the first in his family to do so. As a matter of fact his older brother had started this particular family tradition, trying to save enough money for a car. After the car it had been college. It had all worked out fine for him, so Andrew was determined to follow in his footsteps.
He’d even inherited his t-shirt and the stupid little cap they were supposed to wear while doing things as intellectually taxing as flipping burgers and salting fries that were dripping with fat. What he didn’t expect, however, was that he would have to put up with demanding and down-right evil customers, such as the middle-aged tall man currently standing in front of him.
He was observing the board over their heads pensively sucking on his bottom lip. Since they was no one waiting in line behind him, except for that gorgeous blonde that had come in with him, he had all the time in the world. Apparently he also had every intention on taking it, just to torture Andrew.
“So, the double-cheeseburger special, the chicken wings, extra large fries….What sauce would you like to go with it, sir?” Andrew asked anxious to speed up the decision making process.
“No, idea,” the man grinned at him cheerfully, apparently determined to make his life a living hell. “Andrew,” he read his name tag with a glint in his eye that left the owner of said name with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Tell me, Andrew, what do you have to offer?”
“We’ve got honey mustard, barbecue, sweet & sour, honey, ketchup, hot mustard, chilli and plum,” he rambled out all sauces in one breath.
The man opposite of him looked pensive, then turned around to the woman, who was obviously his girlfriend, though Andrew was by now convinced that bastard didn’t deserve her at all.
“What do you think, honey?” House droned out in an exaggeratedly sweet voice. “I think I’ve got some trouble making up my mind today. Oh, and do you want to get the Cesar’s salad so we can share?”
She let out an annoyed huff, apparently also not too happy with her boyfriend’s behaviour. “Ketchup will do just fine,” she told Andrew.
He pressed the corresponding button on the cash register with a certain amount of satisfaction, the kind you felt after completing a particular taxing task.
“And he’ll have a Coke to go with it,” she added determinedly before House could continue playing his game of torture with the poor pimple faced teenager behind the desk.
“Don’t I get to have any say in that?” House looked at Cameron with a mock pout.
“No, not anymore,” she smiled and gently shoved him aside to place her own order, for which she needed approximately 30 seconds, instead of the those excruciating 30 minutes House had applied to the task.
“I want a Strawberry Frosty,” her date whined in the background, apparently set on behaving like a five-year-old for the better part of the night.
“Oh my God!” she rolled her eyes dramatically. House had to absolutely love this. Not only did he get to torture a poor teenager, flipping burgers to able to pay for college, he also got an additional rise out of her as well, which would clearly be marked up as bonus in his twisted, but brilliant mind.
“Get him his damned Frosty!” Cameron growled at the young man, before she indicated House to pay with a sharp nod of her head. She stalked off right after that, leaving House to deal with the tray laden with food all one his own. It turned out an impossible task thanks to his cane.
“Give me a hand, will you?” he looked at the young man behind the desk with a disapproving frown. He didn’t like having to ask for help.
Andrew didn’t budge an inch. After the way this man had treated him, the hell he was going to help him out now.
“You know I can always play the cripple card.” The teenager gulped overcome by a dreadful sense of foreboding. “First week on the job, right? I bet your boss wouldn’t take it too well if he heard any complaints about you…”
Andrew was around the corner in the blink of an eye. House followed him with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, as the boy carried the tray over to the table were Cameron was waiting for him. After having disposed of it, Andrew disappeared as fast as possible, leaving the couple alone.
“Nice place,” House settled in opposite of Cameron still smirking.
“Yeah, wonderful,” she replied as she snatched her salad from the tray.
“You seem a bit tetchy,” he observed.
“Do I?” she asked sarcastically.
“It’s barely noticeable,” he made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
“Was that really necessary?” Cameron asked indicating the desk with a nod.
“No, but it was fun.”
She sighed. He would never change. Not in a million years. The scary thing about it was that she was getting used to him - his character, his way of dealing with people. She could either accept it or despair. She chose not to despair and stole one of his fries instead and succeeded because he was currently engrossed taking a huge bite of his burger, for which two hands were needed. The temptation of bringing matters to a head was too strong, so she dipped the fry into the foamy crown of the Frosty right before his comically widened eyes.
“You’re disgusting,” he managed to get out after he had swallowed down the food in his mouth.
“Really, House, so quick to judge when you haven’t even given it a try…”
“Oh, God! This can only mean one thing…Chase got you pregnant!” he looked at her in mock horror. “Well, that would sort of put a damper on our budding romance, ‘cause I don’t date knocked up women. Could give them all sorts of strange ideas, like trying to convince me I’m the father.”
She actually laughed at that. “I’m not pregnant and if I was, you wouldn’t be my first choice as a foster father.”
“Ouch! Then who would be?”
“Wilson.”
“Wilson?” He repeated in a slightly higher pitch. “Now you’re trying to be mean on purpose.”
“Really? Look how you’ve just treated that poor fast food guy! If that’s any indication of how you’d behave around your children…Let’s just say I would have been better of with Tritter.”
“Now, Cameron, that comment was really tasteless and very far beneath the belt,” he said accusingly, while he dipped one of his fries into the Frosty as well. He thoughtfully chewed on it for a while, then spoke his verdict sounding almost appreciative. “But that’s actually tasty. You may be on to something there.”
“You’re the first to think so…”
“A match made in heaven. Aren’t we?” His comment was only half-heartedly sarcastic and made her wonder if he was partly serious. She was momentarily taken aback.
“House, I think I’m not ready yet…”
“Hush!”
“You don’t even know what I’m trying to say,” she said indignantly.
“Oh, but I do,” he looked at her intently. The unidentifiable expression in his eyes made her shiver ever so slightly. It was unidentifiable, because she had never seen it before. She was still trying to pinpoint it when he continued to speak. “I’m not ready yet either.”
She held his gaze, nodding slowly. The realization of what his truly words meant, however, began to dawn on her only gradually. When she was finally able to tear away from his hypnotizing blue eyes, she didn’t know how much time had passed. But apparently it had been more than she suspected.
“Shit! Now my burger’s cold.” House rolled his eyes in frustration. “Hey, kid!” he yelled across the diner.
*
It had despite all turned out to be a pleasant evening and to her surprise he had actually decided to be gentlemanly for once and walk her back to her car, though he quickly burst that particular bubble by declaring that he had parked his motorcycle somewhere near there.
“Okay, then. This is me, I guess…,” she said, nervously fingering her keys inside her coat pocket.
“Yeah,” he answered simply, about to walk away from her.
“Listen,” she blurted out abruptly, immediately regretting that minor glitch, knowing fully well that now it was too late to back-pedal. “I just want to know. Was that…I don’t know…one of those just this once and then never again kind of deals?”
He just stood at there looking at her quietly, half of his face hidden in the shadows. She had the distinct feeling of being seized up and judged once again like he had done so many times before. He often seemed to feel the need re-evaluate her. More than with other people at least. By now she had gotten used to it, so she bore it without flinching.
He never answered, instead he took a step towards her. She was surprised, but didn’t retreat, waiting curiously what was about to happen. Her heart was beating wildly inside her chest when he bent down to kiss her on the cheek, his three-day stubble grazing her skin.
“No, it wasn’t,” he threw her one last lope-sided smirk before he turned and left her standing there completely and utterly speechless.
I finally relent. TBC :)