[Fanfiction] House MD, H/W - I Remember, Don't You? Chapter Twenty-Six
Title: I Remember... Don't You?
Author: wolfoflegends
Word Count: 4,140
Pairing: House/Wilson
Summery: After a near death experience and it's following circumstances, Wilson goes to John Hopkins University as a last ditch effort for Med school. There he meets a character like he's never known. Stretches from Med school to beyond Season 4. Slash h/w
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Dressed to the Nines for Poker
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The trip from New Orleans back to Princeton wasn’t as fun or exciting as either man had hoped it would be. House tried his best to cheer his friend up but it all only proved to be temporary solutions. Sure he would smile or chuckle at a comment but House could still plainly see that forlorn look in those brown eyes. In a matter of minutes he’d be back to his quiet and depressed attitude.
But eventually even the best trips came to an end. After they had made it back to Princeton the two stopped at House’s first to drop off their things. Wilson would have to look for an apartment soon. Stacy was at the apartment as expected and greeted House kindly with a hug and kiss with Wilson turning a blind eye to it. He didn’t want to deal with love at the moment if he wasn’t the one receiving it. After they said their hellos and received a welcome back, House gave the promise that they would tell her all about their trip when they returned back from New York.
Wilson prayed silently that he wouldn’t invite her for the trip. He knew it was rude of him to even think such thoughts but he just couldn’t help it. Though he loved Stacy, she was a wonderful and great person, he just didn’t like seeing her and House together. It wasn’t just because it was House, just seeing anyone getting affectionate at the moment made him extremely jealous. He just didn’t want to deal with it.
“Why are you two going to New York?” She asked curiously. She didn’t look like she was dressed to go out, much less a big city of making impressions.
“Ah, we just gotta drop off the rental car, no biggy. Once we drop it off we’re probably gonna take a cab back or something.” She nodded.
Not once did he invite her to come along for the ride. Wilson was thankful and House knew he was. The ride to New York was a little more lively and exciting than when they drove back to Princeton only in the fact that Wilson didn’t have to watch two people in love the whole way. Sure, he knew if Stacy went with them that the two of them wouldn’t show PDA or anything of the sort.. it was just the fact of her being there that would have left a bad taste in his mouth.
All the while he thought this he felt guilty. How could he feel this way about such a nice person? None of it, none of this.. nothing was her fault. Wilson was just upset because she was happy and had a boyfriend who happened to be his best friend. Wilson knew he would never admit out loud or even to himself that he was jealous, because he wasn’t.. He wasn’t jealous.. no.
That’s what he told himself repeatedly.
The traffic was surprisingly easy going for a Saturday and it didn’t take them too long before they were arriving that the exotic cars rental. The worker was pleased to have the car returned in such fine condition and the two, or rather House, was able to get his deposit back. But when it came time to head back home, an idea rang in House’s head.
Ever since he had run into Wilson again he had been curious about how the man felt on his sexuality. Sure, he was married to a charming young woman but House knew that didn’t mean shit. Wilson could be as gay as could be and be married to a woman to try and hide it away under some rug or a piece of furniture. Well, House hadn’t seen the man hit on anyone of the same sex.. though he could have sworn sometime last month Wilson was staring a little too hard at a male malpractice lawyer.. but all that was snuffed out by how charming and flirtatious he could be with a pretty girl. House could still remember how avid Wilson was back in med school about hiding his love for a fellow man.
With this plan, House hoped to be able to get a quick glimpse into a part of his friend that may have stayed hidden since 1991. He could only hope so. Now to pitch the idea..
“Well, we’re in New York.. you wanna get a drink or something? I mean, we’re not driving home.” Wilson thought about the idea for a moment. They didn’t have work tomorrow.. and he really could use a drink…
“Yeah, sounds good to me.”
--
At first everything seemed fine and good. The two of them sat at the bar and enjoyed a few drinks, House had a drink called a Curious Comfort that was mixed with Southern Comfort bourbon, Curacao and pineapple juice where as Wilson ordered a cute Tom Collins with a nicely placed cherry and lemon that sat at the top of the glass with a straw. The two sat and chatted about nothing in particular as they worked on forgetting the busy hectic world around them in favor for their own. And when House excused himself for the bathroom again nothing seemed out of the ordinary as Wilson sat there by himself waiting for his friend’s return so they could continue chatting about who was the better James Bond: Sean Connery or-
“hallo, beautiful,” An accented voice spoke in a low seductive manner nearly in his ear that quickly brought all thoughts to a halt. Wilson quickly turned to find a man watching him closely from the stool to his left with the first thing he noticed about the man was his eyes. His right eye was a light blue that was nearly so light it looked white but so rich and dark around the pupil it nearly looked black. The other eye was less remarkable at a light brown but pretty nonetheless. “My name’s Mateo. What’s yours?” he asked with a smile.
Wilson turned his attention to his own drink but answered nonetheless. “Dr. James Wilson.” Though he would never admit it, when asked Wilson would always find a way to slip Doctor in while introducing himself. It was his title; he did the work and he deserved the respect.
But he really should have known better. “Oh! You’re a doctor, how nice. What do you do?”
He could swear he felt this guy get even closer to him. Where was House? “Oncology.. er, cancer.” He specified when he was given a look of vague confusion at the word oncology.
“So.. what brings you here, doctor?” he man drew out in a coaxing manner. “You looking for a quick fuck? ‘Cause I-”
“Get. The hell. Away. From. Him.” Came an angry growl addressed to the man currently trying to get into Wilson’s pants. House knew his harsh words were justified by the look of extreme thankfulness he received from his buddy. “What did you do? Just wait for me to go to the bathroom to jump him? He’s with me and isn’t interested in whatever you’re offering! So, either you leave him alone or you’ll have me to deal with!” House held his hands in a tight fist. If this guy was going to fight he wasn’t gong to be caught off guard.
“Hey, the man can speak for himself.” Mateo snapped right back.
House shot Wilson an expecting look. “No, I’m not interested.” He answered as confidently as he could muster. Mateo shot House a glare before walking away from the two with the word prick leaving his lips in a hushed mutter. House didn’t care about that, he only cared that no one was trying to move in on his friend. “House, where the fuck did you bring me?” he asked as he looked around the room to suddenly find that things weren’t as calm and normal as he originally thought they were.
There was no doubt about it; this was a gay bar.
He shot House a look to explain. He was given a shrug in return. “Donno, looked like a fine place for a drink.” He turned his attention to Wilson who pulled his drink closer and took a sip from his straw. “You wanna leave?” He watched closely trying to gauge his actions and words. He wanted to know how Wilson felt about the whole gay thing and if he was any closer to comfortable than he had been in med school.
“We can finish our drinks first. I think I need one after that.”
Okay, so maybe trying to gauge his comfort level right after a stranger propositioned him for sex wasn’t the best way for results, but he didn’t run out the place screaming.. there was still a chance.
Maybe.
--
It had been a good few months since the trip to Vegas and still everything between the two were as they always had been. They were still two friends hanging out and having fun where it could be had. House was still with Stacy and Wilson was still alone. Sure there was a girl or two in between he had dated a few times, but nothing serious. House didn’t pay it any mind.
That week Wilson had been rather busy trying to put together an idea he had in order to raise some money for the Cancer wing of PPTH when the money started to get tight. With the inspiration being from their trip to Vegas, Wilson suggested to Cuddy that the hospital throw a Cancer Benefit that they would take the Clinic and turn it into a casino and invite some of the hospital’s donors. The idea was so great that she even promised that if it turned out well it could be an annual thing.
With this tidbit Wilson was determined to have everything go off without a hitch. Sure it was butting in on he and House’s time together, but he, nor did House mind that much. House understood where he was coming from. If he had cared about all the cancer kids like his friend he would want to try and save them all, too.
The week of the event was the busiest. Wilson seemed to be calling for this and that, making sure the renters could deliver felt tables in time, if dealers were available, arranging food; the whole nine yards. At first House was annoyed when Wilson blew him off while on his phone.. and he was annoyed a second time when he passed going out somewhere for dinner (House’s treat) and turned him down for discussing with the caterers on what food and drinks were to be prepared. But in the end he ultimately forgave Wilson for all this as well when he overheard the man on the phone talking about a poker tournament. How sweet is that? How great would it feel to just run up and kick all of your fellow coworker’s asses and even your boss’s at poker?
Talk about wonderlust.
And when the night arrived it was needless to say that Wilson a nervous wreck but he somehow managed to be a power house at getting everything in order and running like a well oiled machine. When House arrived that evening Wilson was all smiles and relief at his handy work.
And not to mention how gorgeous that tuxedo looked on him…
There was always something very attractive about Wilson in a tuxedo. The guy just looked the part of a man of refined culture and looked it fabulously. Though he would never admit it to anyone and definitely much less Wilson, but this was one of the real reasons (besides the poker, that is) he was actually at this cancer benefit thing. He knew he would have been a fool to miss the rare sight of James Wilson in a tuxedo. He only wished that a pair of glasses had come with that package but a bow tie wasn’t a bad consolation prize.
Now thinking on the subject of glasses it had nearly been a year since Wilson started working at the hospital and not once in that time had he seen the man in a pair of glasses. Not even sunglasses.. well, actually he’d never seen Wilson in a pair of sunglasses. He knew Wilson had a distaste of being seen with them on. He really couldn’t understand why. They actually made him look mature and sophisticated.. It was funny that he seemed to adore those qualities in Wilson as well as his ability to be just as childish as he himself could be at times.
Maybe he was teased about it in school by the other kids. He never understood why kids would make fun of something as simple as a pair of glasses. Then again, not everyone was as attracted to someone wearing glasses as he was. Oh, if that were the case.. what he wouldn’t do to beat the crap out of the children that teased and harassed Wilson about that inevitably lead to him being constantly deprived of such a gorgeous sight.
And if in the time they had spent apart Wilson had gotten Lasik surgery, House was almost sure he might have to kill someone. But upon further thought, Lasik had an air of uncertainty about it that still made it iffy with many people sticking with their glasses rather than taking the chance of messing up their eyes. Perhaps there was just enough uncertainty to keep the cautious Wilson at bay.
For his sake he had better hope so.
When he finally found Wilson he was chatting it up with some donors trying to tell them what their donations would do for the cancer ward. Armed with his charming smiles and charismatic ways he was sure to get whatever money needed and then some for the hospital’s poor cancer stricken patients. Not wanting to butt in and ruin any of Wilson’s chances of swaying the donors , House stuck it out and made his way over to the poker table. The function itself wasn’t going to end until midnight or 1AM.. he couldn’t remember, but he was sure he was going to see Wilson sometime in the night. It wasn’t like he was going to leave the party early; this was his brain child after all.
House was pleased to see the table where the poker tournament was going on was nice and full and had a few more competitors at another table. Oh, how he was going to love this. He was going to wipe the floor with all of their asses! He just knew it. He made space for himself at the larger table and smiled at the faces he did and did not recognize. There, of course was Cuddy as well as a handful of doctors that he didn't bother himself to know, two he recognized from pediatrics and oncology, there was his underlings, Stewart and Parker, and a few more faces he suspected were more doctors and donors. Within the first hour quite a few people had already been knocked out the tournament from a series of bad bets and see through expressions.
After chatting with nearly everyone in the room (the donors that is..) Wilson resigned himself to the Black Jack table for a little fun himself.
For hours this is how things went. House tried his hand at being the poker champion with a glass of Champaign at his side and Wilson had been just about everywhere in the room to try and play the part of kind and charming acquaintance to the donors. And where there was an open bar there was sure to be a drunk or two and this theory was back up when House glanced up and saw a rather drunk fellow doctor making his way across the room at a brisk trot. It was obvious that the drunken fellow had been having a good night judging at the amount of chips he had in his arms.
The sight gave House a strange sense of Déjà vu. Never had he thought seeing a drunk man running across a room with an arm full of poker chips would bring back any memories of any kind, but he could feel something, remember something just trying to break free from a dark haze that had been forgotten.
But what?
He kept his blue eyes on the fellow as he continued his journey across the room before he, while not watching where he was going, collided with a nearby bust boy. Like clockwork, he watched as the excited drunk jumped in surprise by the sudden collision and the sound and sight of chips clamoring to the floor suddenly got the gears of the mad doctor's brain going in overdrive.
Something wasn't right. Something was dreadfully wrong and he couldn't remember what. He watched with furrowed brows as the drunken fellow tried to hide his look of surprise before apologizing to the bust boy and started to pick up the fallen chips.
Suddenly a quick image or quick clips of memory played in his mind. Everything was bright, a multicolor bright and sounds of excitement and video poker machines were nearly overwhelming. There sitting next to him was Wilson with a bright excited smile as he leaned forward and started to pull his huge stack of winning closer to him before glancing over his shoulder at House, that smile still as charming and cute as ever, even when fully inebriated.
You know, I think you might be my good luck charm.
"House!"
Suddenly he was pulled back to reality by the loud bark of Cuddy about the current bet. "Huh?" he looked back across the room to see the drunken fellow gathering the last of his chips.
"It's 50 to stay in. You in or fold?"
He absently tossed in $50.00 worth of chips without a word, no longer actually playing the game.
--
Blue eyes looked around the crowded room for anything to spark his memory. He was going to figure out what his mind was trying to tell him even if it took all night. He fidgeted with his chips as he turned his attention back to the green felt of the poker table when his felt his ears twitch at the sounds of Wilson’s voice drift from somewhere across the room. He couldn’t make out what was being said, only that it was Wilson’s voice. He kept his attention to the green felt as something else tried to play with his memory.
What are you staring at?
The brightness of casino lights were still sickeningly bright around them as people tried their hands at winning some money.
Your eyebrows.
Wilson reached up and touched his left brow.
What’s wrong with my eyebrows?
Nothing.. they’re just.. you know, big.
So? They help me express my feelings better!
House felt himself smile.
They suit you.. they’re cute.
“I fold.” He looked up at the sound of Stewart giving up and tossing in her cards. She could see her boss smiling and that was enough to convince her that he had a pretty good hand. Little did she know that his mind wasn’t even on the game. Parker promptly followed her lead.
There was something about that night in Vegas that kept bugging House. There was something that didn't sit right that seemed peculiar about it. He couldn't figure out what it was though. There was something about the chips that kept tugging at his mind, something that kept making the gears running wildly in his head. Glancing up from his cards, he was able to catch the sight of someone working their hand in their pockets and pulling out a few chips and handing them off to a friend.
Suddenly everything stopped. What was it? What was his mind trying to tell him, what was it trying to get him to remember? Furrowed brows stared hard at his own chips as he shuffled them about with one hand. There was something about these chips.. something that was trying to trigger something lost and forgotten. He picked up the stack of chips he had been playing around with and took a closer look at them. They weren’t remarkable in the least, just simple solid color chips with white stripes along the sides.
While still staring and examining the chips trying to find the missing piece he needed, a few slipped from his hand and clattered against each other onto the table.
I’ve got you, Jimmy, there’s no escape.
He heard his own voice growl deep within the recesses of his mind. His brows furrowed more as his eyes stared at the discarded chips.
Like I would even try..
Wilson’s voice was just as sultry and teasing. House closed his eyes tight in an attempt to force his mind to remember, to show him what was going on, what he was desperately trying to remember. Suddenly he remembered Wilson trying to pull the chips from his pockets and dropping them into his shirt before pouncing him from behind with the said chips going all over the floor.
That's why the chips were all over the next morning, that's what kept playing on his mind. That’s what he had been trying to remember. He and Wilson that night.. they..
Those blue eyes were wide with realization as everything came flooding back to him. It was as if the dam that had the memories from that night blocked off had suddenly burst and everything from that night all hit him at once.
The memories were overwhelming and seem to make his head spin, everything was so loud it left him flustered and confused. He could hear snippets and bits of what happened that long forgotten night. He could remember drinks, streets, green felt, bright lights and loud music. He could remember those eyes, those hands, those lips… It was just so much to take in at a second’s time.
He could even remember what Wilson told him that night as he was falling sleep.
And as quickly as it had started, all the noises in his head came to a sudden stop, allowing him to hear, just as quiet as he had answered that night:
...I love you, too.
Suddenly with a loud breath House shot up from his seat at the poker table with everyone looking at him. "Where's Wilson?" he blurted out looking around the room flustered.
Cuddy knew something was up. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he answered too quickly. "I just need to know where Wilson is."
"I think he's at the blackjack table." another doctor at the table added before pointing in the general direction of the tables. And sure enough, there was the man he was looking for. House didn't even excuse himself as he took off.
“Jimmy! Hey!” He called as he approached the table in a brisk speed. Wilson glanced up at him before turning his attention back to his cards. "Hey, that trip to Vegas we took... we had a lot of fun, didn't we?" he asked, trying to gauge Wilson's reactions. He had to know if he remembered it, too.
He nodded as he gestured for another hit from the dealer on his 2 of clubs. "Yeah, we did." When those sweet brown eyes looked at him he was almost at a loss for words. When he looked at Wilson he could remember everything, the sounds and feeling from that night.. and Wilson didn’t remember a thing.
"What are you doing this weekend? You wanna go to Atlantic City?" He had to get to the bottom of this; he had to figure it out. Maybe getting the man alone again away from home will help.
"Can't. I'm going to Boston.”
House scoffed and gave a questioning look. “Boston? What the hell do you have to do in Boston?”
“I’ve got a date."
He felt like banging his head against a wall. What the fuck?! He couldn't tear into Wilson for going out on a date with someone.. but dammit! It wasn't supposed to happen! This was House's moment; he was supposed to be the one who was finally getting his prize.
Because really... he figured it out. He remembered what happened. Shouldn't he get something for that?
“Is something wrong?” Wilson asked curiously as he gestured for the dealer for another hit. Yes, there was something terribly wrong, Wilson didn’t remember.
House pulled a look of indifference to his answer. “No, no problem here.” He tried to hide any and all of his disappointment. “If you can’t go to Atlantic city than you can’t go.” And to save himself from any more looks from Cuddy or anyone else in the room he left.
--
A/N: Has anyone seen RSL in sunglasses? I don't think i have. hhhheh.
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NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: This Bad Day Started My Bad Life
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Author: wolfoflegends
Word Count: 4,140
Pairing: House/Wilson
Summery: After a near death experience and it's following circumstances, Wilson goes to John Hopkins University as a last ditch effort for Med school. There he meets a character like he's never known. Stretches from Med school to beyond Season 4. Slash h/w
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Dressed to the Nines for Poker
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The trip from New Orleans back to Princeton wasn’t as fun or exciting as either man had hoped it would be. House tried his best to cheer his friend up but it all only proved to be temporary solutions. Sure he would smile or chuckle at a comment but House could still plainly see that forlorn look in those brown eyes. In a matter of minutes he’d be back to his quiet and depressed attitude.
But eventually even the best trips came to an end. After they had made it back to Princeton the two stopped at House’s first to drop off their things. Wilson would have to look for an apartment soon. Stacy was at the apartment as expected and greeted House kindly with a hug and kiss with Wilson turning a blind eye to it. He didn’t want to deal with love at the moment if he wasn’t the one receiving it. After they said their hellos and received a welcome back, House gave the promise that they would tell her all about their trip when they returned back from New York.
Wilson prayed silently that he wouldn’t invite her for the trip. He knew it was rude of him to even think such thoughts but he just couldn’t help it. Though he loved Stacy, she was a wonderful and great person, he just didn’t like seeing her and House together. It wasn’t just because it was House, just seeing anyone getting affectionate at the moment made him extremely jealous. He just didn’t want to deal with it.
“Why are you two going to New York?” She asked curiously. She didn’t look like she was dressed to go out, much less a big city of making impressions.
“Ah, we just gotta drop off the rental car, no biggy. Once we drop it off we’re probably gonna take a cab back or something.” She nodded.
Not once did he invite her to come along for the ride. Wilson was thankful and House knew he was. The ride to New York was a little more lively and exciting than when they drove back to Princeton only in the fact that Wilson didn’t have to watch two people in love the whole way. Sure, he knew if Stacy went with them that the two of them wouldn’t show PDA or anything of the sort.. it was just the fact of her being there that would have left a bad taste in his mouth.
All the while he thought this he felt guilty. How could he feel this way about such a nice person? None of it, none of this.. nothing was her fault. Wilson was just upset because she was happy and had a boyfriend who happened to be his best friend. Wilson knew he would never admit out loud or even to himself that he was jealous, because he wasn’t.. He wasn’t jealous.. no.
That’s what he told himself repeatedly.
The traffic was surprisingly easy going for a Saturday and it didn’t take them too long before they were arriving that the exotic cars rental. The worker was pleased to have the car returned in such fine condition and the two, or rather House, was able to get his deposit back. But when it came time to head back home, an idea rang in House’s head.
Ever since he had run into Wilson again he had been curious about how the man felt on his sexuality. Sure, he was married to a charming young woman but House knew that didn’t mean shit. Wilson could be as gay as could be and be married to a woman to try and hide it away under some rug or a piece of furniture. Well, House hadn’t seen the man hit on anyone of the same sex.. though he could have sworn sometime last month Wilson was staring a little too hard at a male malpractice lawyer.. but all that was snuffed out by how charming and flirtatious he could be with a pretty girl. House could still remember how avid Wilson was back in med school about hiding his love for a fellow man.
With this plan, House hoped to be able to get a quick glimpse into a part of his friend that may have stayed hidden since 1991. He could only hope so. Now to pitch the idea..
“Well, we’re in New York.. you wanna get a drink or something? I mean, we’re not driving home.” Wilson thought about the idea for a moment. They didn’t have work tomorrow.. and he really could use a drink…
“Yeah, sounds good to me.”
--
At first everything seemed fine and good. The two of them sat at the bar and enjoyed a few drinks, House had a drink called a Curious Comfort that was mixed with Southern Comfort bourbon, Curacao and pineapple juice where as Wilson ordered a cute Tom Collins with a nicely placed cherry and lemon that sat at the top of the glass with a straw. The two sat and chatted about nothing in particular as they worked on forgetting the busy hectic world around them in favor for their own. And when House excused himself for the bathroom again nothing seemed out of the ordinary as Wilson sat there by himself waiting for his friend’s return so they could continue chatting about who was the better James Bond: Sean Connery or-
“hallo, beautiful,” An accented voice spoke in a low seductive manner nearly in his ear that quickly brought all thoughts to a halt. Wilson quickly turned to find a man watching him closely from the stool to his left with the first thing he noticed about the man was his eyes. His right eye was a light blue that was nearly so light it looked white but so rich and dark around the pupil it nearly looked black. The other eye was less remarkable at a light brown but pretty nonetheless. “My name’s Mateo. What’s yours?” he asked with a smile.
Wilson turned his attention to his own drink but answered nonetheless. “Dr. James Wilson.” Though he would never admit it, when asked Wilson would always find a way to slip Doctor in while introducing himself. It was his title; he did the work and he deserved the respect.
But he really should have known better. “Oh! You’re a doctor, how nice. What do you do?”
He could swear he felt this guy get even closer to him. Where was House? “Oncology.. er, cancer.” He specified when he was given a look of vague confusion at the word oncology.
“So.. what brings you here, doctor?” he man drew out in a coaxing manner. “You looking for a quick fuck? ‘Cause I-”
“Get. The hell. Away. From. Him.” Came an angry growl addressed to the man currently trying to get into Wilson’s pants. House knew his harsh words were justified by the look of extreme thankfulness he received from his buddy. “What did you do? Just wait for me to go to the bathroom to jump him? He’s with me and isn’t interested in whatever you’re offering! So, either you leave him alone or you’ll have me to deal with!” House held his hands in a tight fist. If this guy was going to fight he wasn’t gong to be caught off guard.
“Hey, the man can speak for himself.” Mateo snapped right back.
House shot Wilson an expecting look. “No, I’m not interested.” He answered as confidently as he could muster. Mateo shot House a glare before walking away from the two with the word prick leaving his lips in a hushed mutter. House didn’t care about that, he only cared that no one was trying to move in on his friend. “House, where the fuck did you bring me?” he asked as he looked around the room to suddenly find that things weren’t as calm and normal as he originally thought they were.
There was no doubt about it; this was a gay bar.
He shot House a look to explain. He was given a shrug in return. “Donno, looked like a fine place for a drink.” He turned his attention to Wilson who pulled his drink closer and took a sip from his straw. “You wanna leave?” He watched closely trying to gauge his actions and words. He wanted to know how Wilson felt about the whole gay thing and if he was any closer to comfortable than he had been in med school.
“We can finish our drinks first. I think I need one after that.”
Okay, so maybe trying to gauge his comfort level right after a stranger propositioned him for sex wasn’t the best way for results, but he didn’t run out the place screaming.. there was still a chance.
Maybe.
--
It had been a good few months since the trip to Vegas and still everything between the two were as they always had been. They were still two friends hanging out and having fun where it could be had. House was still with Stacy and Wilson was still alone. Sure there was a girl or two in between he had dated a few times, but nothing serious. House didn’t pay it any mind.
That week Wilson had been rather busy trying to put together an idea he had in order to raise some money for the Cancer wing of PPTH when the money started to get tight. With the inspiration being from their trip to Vegas, Wilson suggested to Cuddy that the hospital throw a Cancer Benefit that they would take the Clinic and turn it into a casino and invite some of the hospital’s donors. The idea was so great that she even promised that if it turned out well it could be an annual thing.
With this tidbit Wilson was determined to have everything go off without a hitch. Sure it was butting in on he and House’s time together, but he, nor did House mind that much. House understood where he was coming from. If he had cared about all the cancer kids like his friend he would want to try and save them all, too.
The week of the event was the busiest. Wilson seemed to be calling for this and that, making sure the renters could deliver felt tables in time, if dealers were available, arranging food; the whole nine yards. At first House was annoyed when Wilson blew him off while on his phone.. and he was annoyed a second time when he passed going out somewhere for dinner (House’s treat) and turned him down for discussing with the caterers on what food and drinks were to be prepared. But in the end he ultimately forgave Wilson for all this as well when he overheard the man on the phone talking about a poker tournament. How sweet is that? How great would it feel to just run up and kick all of your fellow coworker’s asses and even your boss’s at poker?
Talk about wonderlust.
And when the night arrived it was needless to say that Wilson a nervous wreck but he somehow managed to be a power house at getting everything in order and running like a well oiled machine. When House arrived that evening Wilson was all smiles and relief at his handy work.
And not to mention how gorgeous that tuxedo looked on him…
There was always something very attractive about Wilson in a tuxedo. The guy just looked the part of a man of refined culture and looked it fabulously. Though he would never admit it to anyone and definitely much less Wilson, but this was one of the real reasons (besides the poker, that is) he was actually at this cancer benefit thing. He knew he would have been a fool to miss the rare sight of James Wilson in a tuxedo. He only wished that a pair of glasses had come with that package but a bow tie wasn’t a bad consolation prize.
Now thinking on the subject of glasses it had nearly been a year since Wilson started working at the hospital and not once in that time had he seen the man in a pair of glasses. Not even sunglasses.. well, actually he’d never seen Wilson in a pair of sunglasses. He knew Wilson had a distaste of being seen with them on. He really couldn’t understand why. They actually made him look mature and sophisticated.. It was funny that he seemed to adore those qualities in Wilson as well as his ability to be just as childish as he himself could be at times.
Maybe he was teased about it in school by the other kids. He never understood why kids would make fun of something as simple as a pair of glasses. Then again, not everyone was as attracted to someone wearing glasses as he was. Oh, if that were the case.. what he wouldn’t do to beat the crap out of the children that teased and harassed Wilson about that inevitably lead to him being constantly deprived of such a gorgeous sight.
And if in the time they had spent apart Wilson had gotten Lasik surgery, House was almost sure he might have to kill someone. But upon further thought, Lasik had an air of uncertainty about it that still made it iffy with many people sticking with their glasses rather than taking the chance of messing up their eyes. Perhaps there was just enough uncertainty to keep the cautious Wilson at bay.
For his sake he had better hope so.
When he finally found Wilson he was chatting it up with some donors trying to tell them what their donations would do for the cancer ward. Armed with his charming smiles and charismatic ways he was sure to get whatever money needed and then some for the hospital’s poor cancer stricken patients. Not wanting to butt in and ruin any of Wilson’s chances of swaying the donors , House stuck it out and made his way over to the poker table. The function itself wasn’t going to end until midnight or 1AM.. he couldn’t remember, but he was sure he was going to see Wilson sometime in the night. It wasn’t like he was going to leave the party early; this was his brain child after all.
House was pleased to see the table where the poker tournament was going on was nice and full and had a few more competitors at another table. Oh, how he was going to love this. He was going to wipe the floor with all of their asses! He just knew it. He made space for himself at the larger table and smiled at the faces he did and did not recognize. There, of course was Cuddy as well as a handful of doctors that he didn't bother himself to know, two he recognized from pediatrics and oncology, there was his underlings, Stewart and Parker, and a few more faces he suspected were more doctors and donors. Within the first hour quite a few people had already been knocked out the tournament from a series of bad bets and see through expressions.
After chatting with nearly everyone in the room (the donors that is..) Wilson resigned himself to the Black Jack table for a little fun himself.
For hours this is how things went. House tried his hand at being the poker champion with a glass of Champaign at his side and Wilson had been just about everywhere in the room to try and play the part of kind and charming acquaintance to the donors. And where there was an open bar there was sure to be a drunk or two and this theory was back up when House glanced up and saw a rather drunk fellow doctor making his way across the room at a brisk trot. It was obvious that the drunken fellow had been having a good night judging at the amount of chips he had in his arms.
The sight gave House a strange sense of Déjà vu. Never had he thought seeing a drunk man running across a room with an arm full of poker chips would bring back any memories of any kind, but he could feel something, remember something just trying to break free from a dark haze that had been forgotten.
But what?
He kept his blue eyes on the fellow as he continued his journey across the room before he, while not watching where he was going, collided with a nearby bust boy. Like clockwork, he watched as the excited drunk jumped in surprise by the sudden collision and the sound and sight of chips clamoring to the floor suddenly got the gears of the mad doctor's brain going in overdrive.
Something wasn't right. Something was dreadfully wrong and he couldn't remember what. He watched with furrowed brows as the drunken fellow tried to hide his look of surprise before apologizing to the bust boy and started to pick up the fallen chips.
Suddenly a quick image or quick clips of memory played in his mind. Everything was bright, a multicolor bright and sounds of excitement and video poker machines were nearly overwhelming. There sitting next to him was Wilson with a bright excited smile as he leaned forward and started to pull his huge stack of winning closer to him before glancing over his shoulder at House, that smile still as charming and cute as ever, even when fully inebriated.
You know, I think you might be my good luck charm.
"House!"
Suddenly he was pulled back to reality by the loud bark of Cuddy about the current bet. "Huh?" he looked back across the room to see the drunken fellow gathering the last of his chips.
"It's 50 to stay in. You in or fold?"
He absently tossed in $50.00 worth of chips without a word, no longer actually playing the game.
--
Blue eyes looked around the crowded room for anything to spark his memory. He was going to figure out what his mind was trying to tell him even if it took all night. He fidgeted with his chips as he turned his attention back to the green felt of the poker table when his felt his ears twitch at the sounds of Wilson’s voice drift from somewhere across the room. He couldn’t make out what was being said, only that it was Wilson’s voice. He kept his attention to the green felt as something else tried to play with his memory.
What are you staring at?
The brightness of casino lights were still sickeningly bright around them as people tried their hands at winning some money.
Your eyebrows.
Wilson reached up and touched his left brow.
What’s wrong with my eyebrows?
Nothing.. they’re just.. you know, big.
So? They help me express my feelings better!
House felt himself smile.
They suit you.. they’re cute.
“I fold.” He looked up at the sound of Stewart giving up and tossing in her cards. She could see her boss smiling and that was enough to convince her that he had a pretty good hand. Little did she know that his mind wasn’t even on the game. Parker promptly followed her lead.
There was something about that night in Vegas that kept bugging House. There was something that didn't sit right that seemed peculiar about it. He couldn't figure out what it was though. There was something about the chips that kept tugging at his mind, something that kept making the gears running wildly in his head. Glancing up from his cards, he was able to catch the sight of someone working their hand in their pockets and pulling out a few chips and handing them off to a friend.
Suddenly everything stopped. What was it? What was his mind trying to tell him, what was it trying to get him to remember? Furrowed brows stared hard at his own chips as he shuffled them about with one hand. There was something about these chips.. something that was trying to trigger something lost and forgotten. He picked up the stack of chips he had been playing around with and took a closer look at them. They weren’t remarkable in the least, just simple solid color chips with white stripes along the sides.
While still staring and examining the chips trying to find the missing piece he needed, a few slipped from his hand and clattered against each other onto the table.
I’ve got you, Jimmy, there’s no escape.
He heard his own voice growl deep within the recesses of his mind. His brows furrowed more as his eyes stared at the discarded chips.
Like I would even try..
Wilson’s voice was just as sultry and teasing. House closed his eyes tight in an attempt to force his mind to remember, to show him what was going on, what he was desperately trying to remember. Suddenly he remembered Wilson trying to pull the chips from his pockets and dropping them into his shirt before pouncing him from behind with the said chips going all over the floor.
That's why the chips were all over the next morning, that's what kept playing on his mind. That’s what he had been trying to remember. He and Wilson that night.. they..
Those blue eyes were wide with realization as everything came flooding back to him. It was as if the dam that had the memories from that night blocked off had suddenly burst and everything from that night all hit him at once.
The memories were overwhelming and seem to make his head spin, everything was so loud it left him flustered and confused. He could hear snippets and bits of what happened that long forgotten night. He could remember drinks, streets, green felt, bright lights and loud music. He could remember those eyes, those hands, those lips… It was just so much to take in at a second’s time.
He could even remember what Wilson told him that night as he was falling sleep.
And as quickly as it had started, all the noises in his head came to a sudden stop, allowing him to hear, just as quiet as he had answered that night:
...I love you, too.
Suddenly with a loud breath House shot up from his seat at the poker table with everyone looking at him. "Where's Wilson?" he blurted out looking around the room flustered.
Cuddy knew something was up. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he answered too quickly. "I just need to know where Wilson is."
"I think he's at the blackjack table." another doctor at the table added before pointing in the general direction of the tables. And sure enough, there was the man he was looking for. House didn't even excuse himself as he took off.
“Jimmy! Hey!” He called as he approached the table in a brisk speed. Wilson glanced up at him before turning his attention back to his cards. "Hey, that trip to Vegas we took... we had a lot of fun, didn't we?" he asked, trying to gauge Wilson's reactions. He had to know if he remembered it, too.
He nodded as he gestured for another hit from the dealer on his 2 of clubs. "Yeah, we did." When those sweet brown eyes looked at him he was almost at a loss for words. When he looked at Wilson he could remember everything, the sounds and feeling from that night.. and Wilson didn’t remember a thing.
"What are you doing this weekend? You wanna go to Atlantic City?" He had to get to the bottom of this; he had to figure it out. Maybe getting the man alone again away from home will help.
"Can't. I'm going to Boston.”
House scoffed and gave a questioning look. “Boston? What the hell do you have to do in Boston?”
“I’ve got a date."
He felt like banging his head against a wall. What the fuck?! He couldn't tear into Wilson for going out on a date with someone.. but dammit! It wasn't supposed to happen! This was House's moment; he was supposed to be the one who was finally getting his prize.
Because really... he figured it out. He remembered what happened. Shouldn't he get something for that?
“Is something wrong?” Wilson asked curiously as he gestured for the dealer for another hit. Yes, there was something terribly wrong, Wilson didn’t remember.
House pulled a look of indifference to his answer. “No, no problem here.” He tried to hide any and all of his disappointment. “If you can’t go to Atlantic city than you can’t go.” And to save himself from any more looks from Cuddy or anyone else in the room he left.
--
A/N: Has anyone seen RSL in sunglasses? I don't think i have. hhhheh.
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NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: This Bad Day Started My Bad Life
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