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What if
by gena
"What if........" House closed his left eye, and planted his tongue firmly between his teeth, taking careful aim. He pulled the oversized tennis ball back against the rubber bands and let it go just as Wilson said, "What if Foreman walked in dressed as The Bishop; a crime fighting pontiff meting out divine retribution?" House snorted a laugh and watched as the ball hurled down a makeshift ramp made of medical books, ricocheted off the lip of the desk and arched gracefully into the air. It landed with a satisfying "boing" on the edge of the trashcan and bounced inside. They'd set up three targets, and assigned points to each according to difficulty, and distance.
"I'd confess my sins and probably end up doing perpetual penance. And that was twenty points by the way." Wilson glared at him but went to retrieve the ball for his turn.
"What if... " Wilson lined up his shot. "What if I was the one Julie was having the affair with?" House asked. Wilson's ball overshot the Tupperwear bowl he'd been trying to hit.
"I'd say you were a bigger masochist than I thought."
"What if I told you I had sex with Cameron?" House's shot bounced off the plate glass wall, startling a passing nurse.
"I'd say sloppy seconds." He waited for Wilson to set up, then, "What if I told you I'd nailed Chase in the MRI?"
Wilson cursed and sucked his bruised finger. The huge tennis ball rolled to a stop under the yellow lounge chair and he had to use his right hand to pull it out. "I'd say you probably used real nails. What if..." House eyed the room, gauging the distance from light box to trashcan and pulled his makeshift launcher into position. "What if I said I was tempted to father Cuddy's spawn?" House's shot flew wide and knocked over the lamp. He stared at Wilson as if he had never seen him before.
"I'd rush you up to the psyche ward and demand they give you several rounds of ECT!" His blue gaze narrowed. "You aren't tempted, are you?"
Wilson set up another shot. "What if I was?"
"Wilson," House muttered. Wilson shot him a look, slowly lining up the tennis ball and obviously waiting for another hypothetical question. None came. He lobbed the ball so that it ticked over books like a grasshopper and landed with a satisfying thunk in the Tupperware bowl. "Not even you are that stupid."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Wilson said, retrieving the ball and tossing it from hand to hand.
"Don't be dense!" House snatched up his cane, pacing around the office so that Wilson had to swivel the chair from side to side or lose track of him. "It's a ploy. She would suck you into her deranged world. She thinks having a kid would make her happy. She's under the delusion that if she can accomplish procreation she'll have reached some pinnacle of human experience!" Wilson raised both eyebrows, silently daring him to continue. House went on. "Can't you see the truth? Sure, you're not ugly, and she's all glossy Evil and bewitching breasts but once the novelty of an adorable floppy-haired clone wore off all you'd have would be endless nights with a shrill harpy determined to make you miserable."
"Well, you know misery," Wilson said. He sighed, the mischievous spark that had been in his voice, extinguished by a sudden weariness. "What else is there, House? I mean," he rose, wandering to the window overlooking the balcony, "I don't have anything else. Marriage obvious isn't in the cards for me, with Cuddy I'd have something. I - wouldn't be alone."
House stared at him, looking as if he wanted to say something but silence stretched between them like the fragile threads of a cobweb. When he finally moved up behind him Wilson could feel a warmth that unaccountably caused a chill to race down his spine. "Alone?" House asked softly. Wilson met his gaze in the darkened glass, caught and held by a blazing light in those blue eyes. "What if I was tired of being alone, too?"
Wilson shook his head. "You like being alone. You thrive on misery and wallow in pain and I want to forget all that. I want to be happy, House. I want a chance at happiness anyway." In the reflected tableau House seemed to wither, his lanky frame drawing inward, shoulders sagging under the weight of pain in his eyes. Wilson reached out and touched the glass before him and despite the cold of the night on the other side he could feel the promise of heat beneath his palm. "What if - what if we tried together?"
House's reflected eyes regained some of their light. For a moment his faint smile blotted out everything else but then it faltered and he turned away. Wilson heard only, "What if we failed?"
Wilson watched him limp towards the door. In that moment he knew this was it, this was the moment everything in his life had lead up to. He threw the ball and it sailed over House's head, rattling the glass door with the force of his throw. "What if we don't try," he said. He waited, watching the rigid set to House shoulders tense even more. "What if you never realize how much I love you?"
House turned slowly, the ball was clutched tightly in his free hand, a shy smile on his face. They looked at one another for a long moment and then House's smile faded to a smug grin. "Then I'd say your status as Captain Obvious would be called into doubt. Now, come on, I wanna nail you in the MRI."
Wilson grinned and swatted the ball when it sailed towards him. It landed with a resounding clang in the trashcan. "What if Cuddy catches us?"
"I'll tell her I'm auditioning you to father my spawn." House pushed open the office door, leading the way into the hall. Laughing, Wilson shook his head, and followed, knowing the future would be a series of What if's but confident that together he and House would come up with the right answers.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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