I t heart erika. That is all.
Buffista Fic 2: They Said It Couldn't Be Done.
[NAFDA] Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
Thank you...and you say that without looking at my funbags.(That was, incidentally, a new one on me and I thought I knew all the breast lexicon.)
“Sorry about that, Dr. House.” Jaye explained. “My mother can be a little Too Much. It’s just the little things. The stuff she does and the stuff she says.”
”Nothing’s wrong with your cognition, Ms. Tyler.” The doctor crossed to a little TV and turned it on.
”You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But you’re not the one being kept awake by singing stuffed anim...”
“Remind me to get some of what you’re on. It sounds nifty.
”
“On? I’m not on anything...yes, there was a little herb at parties. Hey, I went to college. I’m not gonna lie. And I like a beer or five... But I’d never show up here all altered . I demand the respect accorded a woman in the throes of a neurological...thingie.”
”Ah, yes, Lancet ran a cover story on the rise of the neurological...thingie last week. One moment...” House took some blood, meanwhile not taking his eyes off the screen.
“Ow!” Jaye cried. “What was that for?”
”Tox screen,” House replied. “ But you passed my own personal test by not objecting. This is just to keep my boss off my ass.”
Jaye nodded.”Oh, look at what that nurse is wearing! Like she could do the Heimlich like that.”
House shushed her. “Don’t ruin this for me.I’m a spoiler virgin this week.”
I want to see this filmed. So badly.
Thank you...and you say that without looking at my funbags.
Love those lobes - no matter how tight the T-shirt.
Ah, yes, Lancet ran a cover story on the rise of the neurological...thingie last week.
Bwahahaha!
And picturing House using the phrase "Spoiler Virgin"? Priceless.
We all know smart people can get sucked into fandom. It has a name now. "Therapy Dog" Not bad for not being a real story, huh?
Great title, erika. Absolutely perfect.
“Dr. Foreman,” House said, “make sure Ms. Tyler gets the full neurological work-up doohickey, would you? It takes a doohickey to find a thingie. And tell Dr. Cameron to stop crying in the lab. She’s killing all the cultures and it’s kind of a buzz-kill.”
”Okay, Dr. House,” Foreman said, but as he walked away Jaye heard him mumble “Lost his damn mind. Cameron, your boyfriend wants us to work together now.”
“Can I get just a second?” Jaye asked. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Can you find it?”Foreman was kinder without the doctor getting on his nerves.
Jaye walked down the hallway, but got turned around and ended up passing some offices instead. As she passed Dr. Wilson’s, she heard a voice. “Hey, you!” She did a ten-second thing pretending she didn’t hear it but maybe it would get weird and aggressive if she didn’t respond. “Yes?” She approached the doorway.
“Over here, on the desk.”
The voice came from the photo of a much younger Wilson and a Labrador retriever. “Get close to his heart.” It said in a growly dog voice.
”Whose heart? Dr Wilson’s? I don’t even know Dr. Wilson.”
“Get close to his heart.”
”Oh, okay.” Jaye sighed. “Thanks for clearing that up.”
To her great embarrassment, as she was leaving his office, Dr. Wilson was coming in. Puzzled but pleasant, he said “Oh, hello...testing go okay?”
”So far. Yes.”
“Well, if you’re having second thoughts or anything, don’t. Dr. House is really brilliant.”
“You’ve been so cool about all of this. Please don’t hate me!” Thinking that would be easier if she was on drugs like Dr. House suspected, Jaye lay a big wet kiss on the startled oncologist. It was a nice kiss but even as she’d done it, she wondered if it was his heart she was getting next to.
Hehehe. Oh, this is going to be good. I don't think she's getting close to his heart, I think she's getting close to his...tongue depressor.
Don't look now...I think I've written pre-slash. Of course, it's still one of my stories so it's talky-meat, awkward, pre-slash, but...first guy couple I've ever felt like I could write for.
Later that day, Wilson met House in the cafeteria. It was uncanny how that happened, that somebody so allergic to schedules should be there so often on a Friday, which was often Wilson’s long day.TGIF is for lesser mortals. He then rejected that thought as being too Housely. He had to be careful about that. Wilson liked people.
“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” he said without preamble and without the whole ‘fancy meeting you here’ thing that House seemed to expect. It was insulting to a lot of people’s intelligence, is what it was. Face it. They had a routine now. Someday they would buy Wilson’s old-man black socks together and road-test House’s canes. The thought was only half as depressing as he thought it would be. Maybe he was really eager to put the whole couple thing aside for a while...or maybe...he couldn’t finish that thought, which was as startling as it was simple. Well, not simple...a conscientious guy like him would only be comfortable with such a thing if he took on a whole new identity. Joined the Federation of Bisexual Doctors or something...was there one? If there wasn’t, and he took that step, just laid one on House like that very strange girl had just done, well, he’d be the guy to start one. He didn’t need to up-end his whole life any more than he already had. And House was still House.
“Oh, I know this one. At the end of most of these stories is a little bald child, right?”
“You know, I’ve often wondered what the worst thing you could say would be.”
”You mean...”
”I don’t have to wonder anymore.” Wilson assured him grimly.
“I’m sorry....but you knew I was a spoiler fiend when you met me.”
”Those ‘General Hospital’ sites have really added to your vocabulary, by the way.”
“Cool, huh?”
”If you say so. I’m really surprised Cuddy hasn’t put in those filters yet.”
“It’s the way she proves her love for me. And I tell her I’m looking up diseases from Africa.”
“If she decides to, she could check at any moment. It’s called a History, Greg.”
“Blah, blah...don’t tell me about the cache or I’ll be too stimulated to sleep tonight. You know, if I told the people on the internet that I’ve treated mobsters and supermodels, I could be a BNF.” Wilson wanted to tell House not to underestimate history.
“I shudder to think. Also, how’d we end up talking about you again?”
“Let me finish. Big Name Fan...it’s kind of cool but then people turn on you...think you’re full of yourself.”
”You? Never. Although you have extended me two social courtesies today. I should remember to mark your chart in the lounge.”
“It’s different with you, Wilson.” House replied. “You’re different.”