1Um…this is NOT a new chapter…this is version 2.0 , because I (Wooster) posted without collaborating with my collaborator….so here is the more…cooperative version. It's mostly the same….just better…
Disclaimer: I do not own House. If I did, though, I would DEFINITELY get him drunk.
Rating: 'T" for excessive drinking, some minor language, and a few sex references
AND NOW…A VERY IMPORTANT MESSAGE FROM THE WRITERS
Dearest ladies and gentlemen:
I found it necessary to lay down some rules of collaboration for the young Mr. Wooster, but I believe we have an understanding now, and therefore we have the added/edited portions. I'm afraid I had to be quite strict, but these things are sometimes necessary in the course of being a gentleman's gentleman. Thank you for you continued readership and reviews.
At your service,
Yes yes yes, dashed rude of me and all that, and I do say that I'm sorry I posted without my partner's direct approval, but we Woosters have always been an adventurous lot. Always likely to take the old l. before looking as it were. So deepest and most abject apologies and whatnot. I still think it was rather harsh of Jeeves to lay about me like that with that bally great stick. Not exactly in the feudal spirit. But oh well, c'est la vie as Jeeves would say.
Candy is dandy, but….
Wilson was walking through the halls of the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in his usual chipper mood when he experienced the hallucination. He had seen it out of the corner of his eye, and could only assume that his brain had somehow gotten some wires crossed. Highly disturbed, he turned back to get a better look. Peering through the glass door, he discovered that what he had seen, however impossible, was real. House was smiling.
Or at least he was until he looked up to see Wilson staring at him, at which point he shot him a particularly acidic glare to try and throw him off the scent, but Wilson was having none of that. He opened the door.
"You were smiling just now, weren't you?" A look combining smugness and amusement played across Wilson's face…House's least favorite expression on him.
"Well," said House sarcastically, "you're always accusing me of being a baby. Perhaps it's simply gas?"
"Uh-uh, you're not throwing me off that easily," said Wilson. "Either you just got word that Vogler died in a gruesome and public manner, or you're hiding something from me." He looked consideringly at House and smiled craftily. "Oh well, if you're not going to tell me I guess there's not much I can do. So…you wanna get a drink tonight?"
"Uh, no. Sorry, not tonight."
"Why not?" said Wilson, smiling to himself as he waited for House to fall into the trap.
"Yeah, right…with what? I know you don't have a case; I just talked to Foreman a minute ago. And Cameron does all your paperwork." House winced. Perfect. I've got him right where I want him. "You're going out with Cameron aren't you?"
"No!" House scathingly replied, but Wilson saw the glint of panic in his eye.
"Ha!" whooped Wilson triumphantly, "I knew it! You've been acting weird for weeks!"
House glared at him. "If you tell anyone…"
"Tell them what?" asked Wilson innocently, "That you, the cynical, misanthropic, anti-social Dr. House are dating?"
"We are NOT dating!"
Wilson raised his eyebrows.
"We just go on dates. There's a difference." And he limped sullenly out of the room, with Wilson's laughs resounding behind him.
Cameron grinned widely; this was going to be a blast. Ever since they had started "going on dates", House had taken her to remote, but public places; places where there were other people around, but none they would actually know. Tonight however, he had invited her to his House for a "quiet" night in.
"I'm going to House's house," she said in singsong, giggling as she skipped up the walk, carefully so as not to rattle the package she had bought from the mall under House's instructions. Hearing the piano playing inside – Bohemian Rhapsody, House was in a "fun" mood. – She let herself in through the door he had unlocked in anticipation of her arrival. The playing immediately stopped as she entered, and he turned to look at her.
"Oh, good," he said, "You brought the game! Set it up. I'll go get the liquor from the fridge."
She grinned as she set it up. It was a neat little checkers set, and something only House would consider "the perfect game for a date." The pieces were shot glasses, opposing sides of which would be filled with a different color liquor. When your piece got jumped, you took the shot.
Needless to say, a couple of games later they were completely plowed.
After the second game, House and Cameron were totally smashed. Cameron got up, stumbling a bit, and ran to the kitchen to grab another bottle: they had somehow ran out of the first. From the living room, she could hear House playing the piano and singing "A Sunny Disposish" in a rather fair impression of her favorite television character. She laughed as she stumbled into the room with the liquor.
"Oh my god!" she squealed, "Bertie Wooster is the coolest character EVER! He's my favorite!"
"I know," he said, smiling as he only did when thoroughly sloshed, "You said so at work just a couple of weeks ago."
"No fair! You know EVERYTHING about me!"
"Well it's not MY fault you release your personal information so freely," he teased.
"Well, it's still not fair," she pouted. Then it hit her. "Hey, you wanna make this game more interesting?"
"Strip checkers?" he asked, eyes shimmering with hope.
Cameron giggled, but she couldn't stop the reflex that had a deep blush creeping into her cheeks. "Uh, actually, I was thinking we could play where, in addition to drinking the shot, you had to answer a question. Like truth or dare, without the dare"
House looked at her sadly. "But I already know everything about you. Can't I do dares instead? My strip checkers fantasy might still have a fighting chance."
She laughed. "Oh I'm sure you can come up with some good questions."
He threw the shot back and stared at her, waiting.
"Um, ok, what's your least favorite movie?"
He looked at her considering. "My Fair Lady," he said at last.
"What? Are you serious? Why? It's a classic!"
"I just don't like the ending. Pygmalion's original ending is much more feasible. I could never understand that lovey-dovey crap they attached to Higgins."
"What?" she asked teasingly, "Do you have trouble imagining a misanthropic bastard falling in love?"
For once, House was too far-gone to catch the teasing note in her voice. "Actually, I just always had trouble finding it possible that she could fall in love with that jerk. Freddy simply seemed a better match."
She simply smiled, wondering if he had any idea how much information he'd given her by answering that simple question. Probably not, he would never let that particular guard down unless he was seriously trashed. She jumped when he handed her a shot glass, he had jumped one of her pieces.
"Drink up," he said, "Ok, now…what color are your panties?"
"He jumped one of her pieces at the end of the board. "First celebrity crush. Oh, and king me."
She poured him the second shot. "Harrison Ford. My whole family was big on
Star Wars and Indiana Jones, as you know, so I was fed a lot of him in my formative years."
"You are such a nerd," he teased.
She stuck her tongue out at him, and then smirked as she double jumped his pieces. "Ummm... first kiss, with whom and when."
He closed his eyes and concentrated. "Her name was Sarah Hale and I was 16. She was a redheaded genius, and had the second highest grade in our chemistry class. Second to me, of course. We were always competing with each other until the day when she accosted me in the hallway, planted a big wet one on me, and asked me to Sadie Hawkins..."
House's reminiscence was cut short by Cameron snorting into her remaining pieces. "SHE kissed YOU? You, the great Gregory House, self-proclaimed god of lust? You're a bigger nerd than I am!"
House pouted. "It's not my fault! I didn't have a cane at the time with which to defend myself"
Several questions and several decimal points higher on the BAC level later…
The questions had gone from the silly and pointless to the deep and serious as they made the transition from happy drunks to philosophical ones.
"Ok, Dr. Cameron, no avoiding the question this time. Why did you marry a dying man? Does you liking me have any correlation to the fact that I'm also…broken?"
"That's two questions."
"You seem to have forgotten that I jumped two pieces."
"Oh, right…" Cameron sighed. "Why did I marry him? I guess that's simple enough. I suppose you could say I loved him, but it was more of a conceptual love. I loved how sweet he was, how strong he was. Mostly I loved the idea that we could give each other the thing we each wanted most. He wanted, needed a single person willing to make a bond that would never last, and I wanted, needed, a child. Unfortunately, he ran out on his end of the bargain." The room had suddenly become somber, though in all fairness, it couldn't be described as sober. "As for me liking you…well that's rubbish."
"You saying you don't like me because I'm broken and you want to fix me."
"No, I'm saying I love you because you're broken. I don't want to fix you. Not in the way you mean. I don't want to put your pieces back together. I want to take your broken pieces and put them with mine and see if we can build something new out of the mismatched parts."
They looked at each other, not nearly as unfocused as the alcohol should have made them.
"Um…" said House, breaking the silence, "do you think we could move on to the "dare" idea now?"
She smiled at him. "Fine, but you seem to be forgetting that it's my turn." She jumped one of his pieces, "and I want to remind you that there's no backing out of dares." He looked her straight on, daring her to dare him.
"Ok," she said as he took his shot, "could I…? I mean, um, I dare you to…show me…your…leg." She was nervous. Perhaps she had gone too far? Well he had made me tell him about my husband.
He surprised her. He simply reached over and took hold of the cuff of his pants. "I feel obligated to warn you," he said with a serious air, "What you are about to see may shock and disturb you." It certainly did Stacy. He rolled up the bottoms of his pants, exposing a leg disproportionate and lopsided, crisscrossed with scars. She had expected this, the removal of an extensive amount of damaged tissue would be highly visible, but she hadn't expected the bracing of Dr. House's shoulders, or the almost expectant pain in his eyes. She placed a comforting hand on the misshapen mass, but she did not look again. Instead, she looked directly into his eyes as she leaned forward and their lips met. The fire between them singed her lips, and she pulled away, still vaguely aware that her inhibitions were uncommonly low after a few rounds of 'shot checkers'. Still, she grinned at him. "Well now that I've gotten you pants partially off, why don't we move on to that strip checkers idea?"
She had surprised him. She hadn't flinched at the gruesomeness, nor had she looked at him with pity. Somehow, when he looked down at his leg, something he rarely did nowadays, he wondered if maybe it were a little straighter than the last time he'd looked. He glanced up at her, "Forget the checkers part."
"What checkers part?"
Ok, so here's the part where we acknowledge all that played a part. "Sunny Disposish" and Bertie Wooster are both from the series "Jeeves and Wooster" in which Hugh Laurie plays Wooster. If you are American and never watched A&E, (or if it comes to that, are British and have never watched Masterpiece Theatre) I strongly recommend buying the series, it's great!
To all you ignorant masses (and I mean that in the FONDEST way) My Fair Lady is a musical based off the play Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw. The main character Henry Higgins is a misanthropic self-obsessed jerk who falls in love with a young and tough flower girl whom he has been teaching to speak properly. Freddy Einsford-Hill is a rather pathetic (in my opinion) specimen who also falls for her, and is very sweet and romantic. However, she falls in love with Higgins. In Pygmalion, she marries Freddy despite her feelings for Higgins, whereas the musical has her returning to Henry instead. Sound familiar?