Wide Awake and Dreaming

Prompt: 002. Middles
Character(s): (Wilson/House/Cuddy)
Genre: het/gen/slash/bring your own?
Spoilers: Finding Judas - 400 Words - 23 Jan 2007
It was like a game. He and Lisa conspired to keep House in line. Greg and he conspired to annoy Lisa. Greg and Lisa - well, they didn't usually conspire. They had more fun scoring points off of each other, with Jimmy as the monkey in the middle, and some days he wished that wasn't as literal as it sounded.

Lately, though, there was something going on between them. It wasn't exactly a conspiracy, but they were keeping secrets from him. While he knew that House was good at keeping secrets, he enjoyed a somewhat naive belief that House wouldn't keep secrets from him - not for long, and especially not ones about other.

It turned out that he was much more naive than even he was comfortable with, because Greg was keeping secrets - big secrets and secrets about Lisa that neither of them had shared with him.

Perhaps, he would have handled it better, if he hadn't found out how and when he had. He was already quite disillusioned about House, but he thought he had an ally in Lisa, a confidante. Instead, he found her crying because House had struck in a place that he hadn't even known was vulnerable.

House knew that Lisa was trying to get pregnant, that it was important to her. How did he know? How long had he known? It had probably been a while if she'd had three cycles and a miscarriage - at least four to six months. Before House was shot, long before the current situation with House existed, they had kept this from him.

Then, he figured it out. Right about the time that Cuddy had started acting weird. She had invited him to dinner, and he had thought - maybe hoped - that it might be a date, but he knew that he wasn't that lucky. Greg had been jealous anyway, and then convinced there was some big mystery, which he had gotten over way too quickly. Except, he hadn't, not really. House just hadn't shared the answer with Wilson.

A lot made sense in retrospect, but he guessed it often did. He and House plotted against Lisa. Lisa and he plotted to keep House in line. Greg and Lisa didn't need to team up against him; they were so busy with each other that he didn't need to exist. Guess he was the monkey after all.

Prompt: 010 Arrogance
Character(s): (Chase/House)
Genre: Gen
Spoilers: Finding Judas - 150 Words - 23 Jan 2007
For once, Chase had saved the day, he had been the one with the brilliant diagnosis, the flash of inspiration, but he took little pride in his accomplishment. The cost had been too high, in a currency he didn't care to barter in.

He had been around long enough to see House fail, longer than the others. This was the first time that he thought the man had no place being in the hospital. This was the first time House had fallen ass over elbows off his pedestal, rather than jumped of his own free will.

Chase stayed here because he knew he could learn a lot from House, and he already had. However, as he smiled his goodbyes to the little girl that his diagnosis had saved, the ache in his jaw reminded him that there were some lessons that House could teach that he never wanted to learn.

Prompt: housefic50 : 017. Truth
Character(s): House
Genre: Gen

"Know thyself," is a much more useful Greek philosophy than The Hippocratic Oath. The original oath held several clauses that he had willfully violated as a doctor. Never perform an abortion. Never do deliberate harm. Never prescribe a deadly drug, or give advice that might result in death. It's useless to base current decisions on morals decided hundreds of years ago. House cared for the welfare of his patients, and there was more than one kind of suffering. However, knowing himself, what he could live with, was a standard that would never fail him. It seldom failed his patients either.

Prompt: 027 Cane
Character(s): House
Genre: Gen - 225 Words - 23 Jan 2007
House twirled the plastic-wrapped miniature candy cane between his fingers. He had a huge bowl of them at home. He snagged them from the nurse's station at the clinic, from the tree in pediatrics, even a couple out of the pockets of Cameron's or Chase's lab coats. Wilson also brought them as little offerings, slipping them onto his desk, perching them on the rim of his coffee cup, tucking them under the edge of his plate at lunch, as long as house could pretend not to see him, or could be his own accomplice by stealing them before they could be left.

They fascinated him beyond the obvious connotations. He didn't need any more reminders of his own shortcomings, thank you very much, especially not seasonally appropriate, cheerful confections in bright, attention-grabbing colors. As a symbol themselves, though, they weren't so bad. A shepherd's crook - the staff by which he tended his flock during his long, lonely vigils in the night. That he could understand, even respect (when he wasn't snorting at the analogy).

As he fished a roll of paper tape out of his pocket and tossed it into the air, he remembered long hours taping hockey and lacrosse sticks, and wondered how a seasonally appropriate, spiraling, white stripe would look on his cane, or if that was too tacky, even for him.

Prompt: 028 Piano
Character(s): House/Cuddy
Genre: Gen - 450 Words - 23 Jan 2007
Lisa used her key to cut through the grief counselor's office to the rear entrance of the chapel. She didn't feel guilty about invading someone else's personal space, because it wasn't a real office, just a place for visiting clergy to meet with family members, or prepare for the occasional services held in the adjacent chapel. It also allowed her to check on House without disturbing him.

His current patient was in bad shape. If things didn't turn around - soon - they would lose him. House had also been on duty for over thirty-eight hours, and vicodin or not, he was bound to be in a lot of pain and very restless. Greg processed best when he was in motion - a state that was harder to achieve these days. He compensated with his toys and games, but when things got this bad, she knew that this was where she'd find him.

It wasn't the only piano in the hospital, and it wasn't the acoustics of the small room that drew him. There was an auditorium/ballroom/reception area on the second floor, more convenient to his office. She couldn't really ask him about it, either. They had a tacit agreement not to acknowledge that this was his sanctuary (for all of the irony of that). Part of it was the fact that his team, not even Wilson, would think to look for him here, nor were they likely to seek its comfort for themselves.

As Lisa watched, he drifted from one melody to the next - soft, thoughtful, with occasional long pauses where he looked off into the distance, as if he had forgotten what came next. She knew that wasn't the case. That rhythm meant he was formulating an idea, a plan of attack that was just beyond his fingertips. Either that, or he was already resigned to his loss - and House seldom resigned. It brought a comforted smile to her face, glad that it wouldn't be a harsh, crashing night. Beethoven was never a pleasant sound when House's nimble fingers flew over the keys.

He had an audience tonight - an older woman sat near the back, her lips forming her rosary, but her eyes were fixed on the bowed line of Greg's back. He didn't mind the company, usually, unless they tried to comment or otherwise engage his attentions, or if it was someone he knew - on the rare occasions someone stumbled upon him, or Lisa made he presence known. She'd had to smooth a few ruffled feathers over the years, but she never said anything to Greg - not about this. In times like this, House deserved all of the peace he could find.

Prompt: 029 iPod
Character(s): House
Genre: Gen
200 Words (+ lyrics) - 23 Jan 2007
House liked to amuse himself and keep himself entertained, especially when no one else was in on the joke. So, while he had the typical play lists of his favorite jazz and classical compositions, and the list of rock anthems - both inspirational (You Can't Always Get What You Want) and ironic (Born to Run) - there were other, less frequently accessed lists obviously dedicated to the current object(s) of his irritation.

Cuddy was a frequent target (and boy did Baby's got Back give him a new thrill in his happy place these days) and she was particularly susceptible to the smirk his personal soundtrack inspired when the "I can't hear you" jig was up. His little ducklings //The things you do are so in tune, With what you said you hate// were too quick to give up in frustration //Dirty white boy, dirty white boy// to be any real amusement //American woman, listen what I say//. Wilson was the only one to clue into his game and ask what was playing. He was even good for the occasional aside or witty suggestion.

Sometimes, the most interesting thing to do was only pretend to listen - or pretend not to listen to the people jabbering on around him as he swayed his head //Your lips move but I cant hear what youre saying// and tapped his foot to a non-existent beat. That could be really entertaining.

Prompt: housefic50 : 030. Coffee Mug
Character(s): Cameron
Genre: Gen

Cameron dragged her spoon through her overly sweetened coffee, resisting the momentum of the centrifugal force generated. It wasn't what she wanted, but she didn't want to face the lounge in its Valentine's glory of pink balloons and candy hearts, to find something else.

Despite House's constant accusations to the contrary, she wasn't much of a romantic. She just thought actions spoke louder than words. Anybody could buy a spray of flowers that would die in less than a week, or a bag of festively wrapped candies. She wanted more than token gestures.

Sugary wasn't the same thing as sweet.

Paired Drabbles: (House/Cameron)

034 Not Enough

035 Too Much

Mild Spoiler for Love Hurts.

House told her she was beautiful, even intimated it was part of his reasoning for hiring her. He also thought she was intelligent, though he certainly said otherwise. He never would have hired her or entrusted her with the responsibilities he had otherwise.

However, he didn't take her seriously, wouldn't acknowledge how she felt about him. He didn't believe that she was strong enough to look out for herself and strong enough to support him in ways his cane never would.

Cameron had learned so much from him during her fellowship, but House still had a few things to learn.

*******

Cameron was smart; she was beautiful, but she never stopped pushing. Granted, that was a quality he should be able to respect, given his own inclinations, but her naive perseverance was wearing.

He tried brutal honesty. He tried giving in on small battles. Hell, he had even made an effort and took her on a date, to give her an idea of what she was really asking for. None of it got through to her. It was all just 'proof' to her of how lost House was and how much he needed her influence. She didn't know enough to quit.

Prompt: 041 Sweat
Character(s): House
Genre: Gen - 216 Words - 23 Jan 2007
Greg wiped the sweat from his eyes and pushed himself further and further on the treadmill, making bargains with himself for each mile, each half mile, tenth of a mile. One minute more; thirty seconds. Each goal was a landmark, and each one just a bit further than the day before.

He knew the value of physical therapy. He was a doctor after all, and intimately familiar with and well informed about his condition. There was a reason he always included that little lesson in his required lecture series. Pain was something more than a symptom to be ignored or medicated away. It was the sign of something breaking down, something going wrong, but sometimes when the burn was just right, it was the sign of something going right. He pushed through the pain, committed himself to this therapy, because it was the only way to build up the muscles, make them stronger in the short window that he knew he had left.

When he could no longer tell if the sweat that dripped from his brow and ran down his back was from exertion or pain, he took a long swallow of water and pushed just a little further. It was a battle between him and the pain, until only the victor was left standing.

Prompt: housefic50 : 045. Clinic
Character(s): House/Cuddy
Genre: Gen/Het, 100 Words
Spoilers: Human Error

"Face the music, House. You did this to yourself."

He pulled the sucker from his mouth and gave Cuddy his best puppy dog expression. "But, mom," he whined.

"You have no team, therefore you have no patients. That means your ass is mine." She gave him a wide, satisfied smile.

"And you couldn't think of anything better to do than assign it to clinic hours?" He shifted on his cane and pouted. "I'm so disappointed."

"Yeah, but this way *I* won't be," she zinged back.

"I always knew you were a sadist. You get off on torturing me."

"You wish."