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alanwolfmoon.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sick_wilson2007-08-04 06:15 pm
alanwolfmoon.livejournal.com) wrote in sick_wilson2007-08-04 06:15 pm
Entry tags:
No Wilson, that manniquin is not named Cameron. (epilouge)
Title: No Wilson, that manniquin is not named Cameron. (epilouge)
Pairing: House / Wilson
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG
Summary: Wilson gets drunk. Fluff insues. This is the morning after.[Unknown site tag]
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Notes: Used the 2nd 200 members prompt. why? cus it fit. really only wrote this because in the comments, somebody wondered whether wilson would remember his first motorcycle ride. Reveiws and flames alike are welcome. (They make it look like i'm writing fast)
the first part is here:
No Wilson, that manniquin is not named Cameron.
Wilson blinked and winced against the sudden bright light.
“Ohhhh...my head....where am I....?”
House stuck his head around the corner, seeing Wilson lying sprawled on the floor, having been too heavy and uncooperative for House to get him on the couch the previous night, holding his head and squinting around him.
“House’s apartment? How...how’d...I get here...”
“You know, talking to yourself *is* considered a sign of insanity. As is talking to shopping mall mannequins, which you have also been doing recently.”
Wilson jerked, startled at hearing House’s voice, and wincing at the noise.
“Not...so...loud...”
“So, do you want bacon or sausage for breakfast?” boomed House, obviously enjoying torturing his severely hung-over guest.
“Urgh...neither...and since...when...can you....even cook...them?”
“Since never. But that’s your choice. All the greasy, oily, salty food that you can–”
Wilson bolted, heading haphazardly towards the bathroom.
House snickered evilly, following Wilson at a more sedate and, for once, balanced pace.
As he finished, House having gotten bored and left to go find some way to prepare yet more torture for him, Wilson tried to trace what had happened last night, and what on earth could have gotten House in such a good mood.
He seemed to remember something about a lady cop...and a tree...something about oranges...sitting behind someone...on what? Moving and sitting behind someone....
House’s motorcycle?
That was it.
A conversation....
He’d been upset, but he always got teary when he was drunk...
But what had set it off?
....
Oh.
That.
AAAAAAAGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Uh..House?”
“Heh, you ready for breakfast? All I could find was some hamburger, but I guarantee it’ll be nice and greasy!”
“Uh...last night...”
House immediately lost his manic grin.
“Ah...you remember that, eh?”
“Uh, if you’re talking about riding on your motorcycle and talking, yes.” said Wilson, somewhat nervously.
House seemed to weigh the choices, finally deciding that talking was more interesting at the moment than torturing his friend.
“Despite the awful grammar and pronunciation, I actually did understand what you said.”
Wilson winced.
“Uh...”
House regained his grin, limping over to Wilson.
“I think your friend is a bit more off kilter than you seem to think he is. And I also think he doesn’t hate you, even without anybody telling him you’re not that bad..”
Wilson blushed scarlet.
House snickered and leaned forward.
"you know...I think I might actually want to try riding again...when the world isn't spinning quite so much."
"That can be arranged."
Pairing: House / Wilson
Author:
alanwolfmoonRating: PG
Summary: Wilson gets drunk. Fluff insues. This is the morning after.[Unknown site tag]
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Notes: Used the 2nd 200 members prompt. why? cus it fit. really only wrote this because in the comments, somebody wondered whether wilson would remember his first motorcycle ride. Reveiws and flames alike are welcome. (They make it look like i'm writing fast)
the first part is here:
No Wilson, that manniquin is not named Cameron.
Wilson blinked and winced against the sudden bright light.
“Ohhhh...my head....where am I....?”
House stuck his head around the corner, seeing Wilson lying sprawled on the floor, having been too heavy and uncooperative for House to get him on the couch the previous night, holding his head and squinting around him.
“House’s apartment? How...how’d...I get here...”
“You know, talking to yourself *is* considered a sign of insanity. As is talking to shopping mall mannequins, which you have also been doing recently.”
Wilson jerked, startled at hearing House’s voice, and wincing at the noise.
“Not...so...loud...”
“So, do you want bacon or sausage for breakfast?” boomed House, obviously enjoying torturing his severely hung-over guest.
“Urgh...neither...and since...when...can you....even cook...them?”
“Since never. But that’s your choice. All the greasy, oily, salty food that you can–”
Wilson bolted, heading haphazardly towards the bathroom.
House snickered evilly, following Wilson at a more sedate and, for once, balanced pace.
As he finished, House having gotten bored and left to go find some way to prepare yet more torture for him, Wilson tried to trace what had happened last night, and what on earth could have gotten House in such a good mood.
He seemed to remember something about a lady cop...and a tree...something about oranges...sitting behind someone...on what? Moving and sitting behind someone....
House’s motorcycle?
That was it.
A conversation....
He’d been upset, but he always got teary when he was drunk...
But what had set it off?
....
Oh.
That.
AAAAAAAGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Uh..House?”
“Heh, you ready for breakfast? All I could find was some hamburger, but I guarantee it’ll be nice and greasy!”
“Uh...last night...”
House immediately lost his manic grin.
“Ah...you remember that, eh?”
“Uh, if you’re talking about riding on your motorcycle and talking, yes.” said Wilson, somewhat nervously.
House seemed to weigh the choices, finally deciding that talking was more interesting at the moment than torturing his friend.
“Despite the awful grammar and pronunciation, I actually did understand what you said.”
Wilson winced.
“Uh...”
House regained his grin, limping over to Wilson.
“I think your friend is a bit more off kilter than you seem to think he is. And I also think he doesn’t hate you, even without anybody telling him you’re not that bad..”
Wilson blushed scarlet.
House snickered and leaned forward.
"you know...I think I might actually want to try riding again...when the world isn't spinning quite so much."
"That can be arranged."
no subject
That.
AAAAAAAGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That was so Charlie Brown :]
Funny stuff, thanks for sharing it!
no subject
that was awesome!!
no subject