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Spaces
by lilyleia78
Wilson looked up from his bagel with only mild surprise when the door to his office was unceremoniously thrown open, banging sharply against the wall. Long years of experience allowed him to watch silently while House barged into the room with no word of explanation or - heaven forbid - apology. Instead of asking for either, Wilson idly speculated as to why House might be pushing a rolling desk chair into the office while he shot down the theories of the quartet of doctors following in his wake.
Never breaking his stream of hints, insults, and prodding, House rolled the chair around to Wilson's side of the desk and slumped into it, knocking Wilson's own chair a couple of inches to the right with the momentum. He glanced over at Wilson, said, "Hold this," handed over his cane, and turned his attention back to his fellows.
Kutner, Thirteen, and Taub settled onto the couch without even a glance toward Wilson and continued whatever argument they'd been having when they entered. Foreman, leaning against the wall just inside the door, caught Wilson's eye, shrugged and mouthed "Cuddy."
Wilson nodded his understanding. He knew about her hijacking of House's office of course. Apparently victory was temporarily hers, and House was seeking shelter here. Hiding from a girl; the mocking potential would be endless. Wilson grinned to himself at the thought and tuned out the conversation, sliding his bagel away from House's questing hand.
A quarter of an hour later, after his coffee had been swiped and the fellows sent to run some tests, House turned his head to scrutinize Wilson suspiciously. Wilson stared back, unblinking, raising his eyebrows in question.
Finally House broke the silence. "Well?"
Wilson frowned, glancing around the room. "Well?" he repeated.
"Aren't you going to try and psychoanalyze why Cuddy has invaded my space?" House asked, glaring as if Wilson's silence on the matter was part of a grand scheme to drive House nuts.
"No." Wilson said simply, shaking his head minutely.
"Not even a little guess?"
"Nope." Wilson suppressed a smile at the look of consternation on House's face.
"What's wrong with you? You live for this."
"Yes, my reason for living is to provide you with free therapy."
"You're also my personal food bank." House reminded him, swiping a piece of Wilson's forgotten bagel and popping it into his mouth.
"Of course." Wilson acknowledged, offering House the rest of the cream cheese.
House waved it away, swallowed and whined, "I'm bored. Cuddy's taken away all my distractions. Entertain me"
"That wasn't on my list of personal services."
"Damn, I usually check these things before I hire a hooker."
"I'm not your hooker; I'm your conscience." Wilson said lightly.
"Okay, Jiminy, why don't you tell me why I shouldn't go drug Cuddy's coffee and get my office back."
"Cut her some slack, House. You almost got yourself killed, again. She just needs some time."
House scowled at Wilson. "In my office? She could nurse her disappointment at my continued survival anywhere. In fact, there are several better places to get some alone time; I could show her my list."
"She doesn't need alone time; she needs House time."
House tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowed as he looked at Wilson. He smiled slyly and opened his mouth. Wilson abruptly decided that he didn't want to hear whatever sexually depraved thing was about to come out of House's mouth.
"You want psychoanalyzing?" Wilson asked, irritation turning his tone harsher than he'd intended. "Fine, how's this: When someone you love - or, or - care about - has yet another in a long string of near death experiences, it's only natural to want to be close to them for awhile. To take just a little time to enjoy the fact that they're still there and that the inevitable painful, life changing separation has been put off for a little while longer." Wilson was aware that he was getting louder as he continued, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. His frustrations and fear were manifesting as anger, and it felt good to be doing something with those emotions. House was so freaking in love with the truth; Wilson could give him some truth. "You'll excuse me if I don't give a crap if Cuddy's coping mechanism includes taking over your office for a couple of weeks. She was scared; this is her dealing with it."
House didn't respond immediately. Wilson could almost see the thoughts flowing behind House's eyes as the processed the explanation, the volume at which it had been delivered and what was no doubt the pained expression on Wilson's face. "Are we still talking about Cuddy?"
The uncanny knowing in House's eyes flustered Wilson. He clung to his irritation in defense, looking away in a move House was sure to interpret as a sign of guilt. "Who else would we be talking about? Your devoted flunkies?"
"Hmm," House hummed noncommittally. "Know why I think Cuddy has invaded my space?"
"I think you're going to tell me no matter how I answer that." Wilson said with a sigh.
"I think Cuddy is contemplating making a fundamental change in the nature of our relationship. And she thinks that if she forces some time in close proximity it will determine if we can handle time in even closer nonforced proximity." House paused frowning. "That made more sense in my head."
Wilson nodded. "It certainly couldn't have made any less."
House scowled again before perking up with a smile. "Or maybe she's just trying to use her presence and feminine wiles to trick me into kissing her."
"That must be it."
"She probably assumes if she stands around looking pretty and interrupts me often enough I'll give in just to have five minutes of peace."
"A truly evil plan. Let me know if it works. I could use five minutes of peace myself."
"I think we can safely call it a failure. I've been trying Cuddy's plan on you for..." House checked his watch. "...seven and a half minutes now and no liplock yet. My soaps start in fifteen minutes. Do you think you could speed up your big gay epiphany?"
Wilson blinked at him. "I think I missed something. What's going on?"
"You were about to kiss me."
Wilson could feel his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "Was I?" he asked bemusedly.
"I've been throwing myself at you for at least ten minutes now. I don't know how you ever get laid; this could really screw with a girl's ego. Luckily for you, my ego is indestructible."
Wilson's initial surprise was giving way to a smile under the familiar banter. "That's a remarkable superpower."
"I can be Ego Man to your Boy Wonder Oncologist. Now, scoot over here and help me fulfill all those superhero/sidekick stereotypes."
"House?" Wilson swiveled in his chair so that he was looking right into House's grinning face. He pushed into House's space so that his words brushed hot air tantalizingly against the other man's lips. "Shut up."
Just before moving the necessary inch to close the gap House whispered, "Make me."
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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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