Gregory House often snarked and voiced (loudly) his obvious displeasure at his fellow man's ability to be more stupid than their tree swinging ancestors.
It was not often that Gregory House was thankful to the powers that be for general human stupidity.
But he was.
In secret he'd utter a silent prayer to the gods of any and all religion.
Every time she walks into a room.
Gregory House is an extremely observant human. He can pick up and absorb the smallest details that assist him in many tasks such as solving a case, working out exactly how much to snark at Cuddy, getting the most money out of Wilson, assessing which Interns to make cry and figuring out which patients will sit quiet through an episode of General Hospital. Coma guy wins hands down.
From the smallest tilt of the head, change in posture or lack of consciousness he drinks it in a stores it in his mind to link with other observations and later draw conclusions. This ability to observe had been developed from an astute and curious childhood. He had always been smart and had always seen the world in a slightly different way from the rest of its population. This difference had alienated him slightly from his classmates and neighbours allowing his 'talent' to grow quietly. A talent he was glad to say no one in the hospital shared.
Of course most had some degree of intelligence and observation but a lifetime of ignorance and trite fake conversation had dulled their eyes to the little things, the small changes, the tells.
No one could tell that he liked her.
No one could tell that he dreamt of what it would be like to hold her.
No one could tell how close he was to falling in love again.
When ever she walked into the room he could almost see an image of himself pointing and laughing. "Someone's got it bad." the image would call.
When ever she walked into the room there would be some small change, just the slightest shift.
Softened eyes, stiffened shoulders, tightening of his jaw, the halt of cane twirling, his brow furrowing, a shift in footing, eyes narrowed to a glare, slight grinding of his teeth, the drumming of his fingers; one or a mix of any of these depending on the weather, how good last nights General Hospital was, what song was playing as he stepped into the shower that morning.
Anything for any reason but there was always a tell, always a little shift, always a small change and no one noticed.
Wilson had suspected once, but with a few days careful schooling of his words and the return of Stacy the possibility of him and her, was as far from Wilson's mind as his fourth wedding.
Not even she knew.
She had no idea that he longed for her to be the first thing he saw in the morning. He longed to wrap his arms around her and whisper her name. He longed to feel her lips pressed against his in varying degrees of raw passion and tender love. He longed to run his fingers through her hair and caress her skin.
He wanted her to know but he didn't know how to show it.
Darkness settled around him as night seeped in through the window of his office. He sat in his desk chair; feet crossed and propped up on the corner of his desk, his large grey and red tennis ball turning slowly between his nimble fingers.
Sure he was thankful for the stupidity of man but he wanted change. He wanted her to know. He wanted her to see.
The door to his office hissed slightly as it opened. He could tell it was her, he could feel it. Hell, he could almost taste it in the air.
Glancing up at the welcome intruder he drank in her appearance.
He saw acute tiredness, eyes slightly hooded, shoulders hanging slightly lower than normal and her hand resting rather heavily on the door handle.
She had a soft smile.
A smile that said she was glad of the end of the day.
A smile that said despite whatever atrocities might spring from his mouth she was glad to look upon him for however brief a time just to say good night.
A smile that said she still cared for him. Maybe even loved him.
He allowed his eyes to soften and a smile to twitch at the corners of his mouth.
He watched as a flicker of something moved through her eyes.
She, unlike others, could see.
Small changes, he thought.
"Good night." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He could make small changes until she knew, small enough for only her to notice.
"Good night." his voice rumbled softly.
He watched as her eyes glistened once more and her soft smile twisted into the most subtle smirk. She nodded then took her leave without another word.
He watched her walk out of the conference room and make her way along the hall.
The second she was gone from his sight he sighed and closed his eyes.
"Good night, Allison." he breathed to an empty room.