Hee! love it.

More House/WF...coming up on the end.
Jaye rationalized that she hadn’t completely failed in her Labrador-sanctioned mission. After all, she was with Dr. House, and surrounded by all manner of Wilsonian things. The fact that she was lying on her back on the floor of the locked oncology lounge OD-ing on pickle chips and reading movie star magazines, was just...like a wrinkle. It was still better than what she’d be doing at work.

“Pickle me,” she told House, who surprised her by complying.

“If you get brine poisoning and die, don’t come crawling to me.” House said, “ But I suppose I should be glad somebody eats the damn things.”

“It’s kind of ironic,” Jaye said. “Somebody as sour as you not liking pickles.”

“Thank you, Ms. Morrisette. Although you do have a better grasp of irony than she does.”

“And I wouldn’t go down on you in a theatre, but I know at least *two* people in this hospital that’s not true of,” Jaye said, brightly, before she thought better of it.

“Oh, poor Cameron... she does make it kind of obvious, doesn’t she?” And his blue eyes turned dark and serious and Jaye felt like she understood where Cameron might get it from, even though most of her crushes had brown eyes.

“Who? Oh, yeah, the pretty little doctrette...yeah, she does seem to say ‘House says” a lot...she might just think you’re bitchin’ at that.”

“I’m a legend in my own time...”

“Well, legend...give this a little thought, okay...a photo in Dr. Wilson’s office told me...

Incredibly, this board-certified brainiac doc whom Jaye would suspect of hearing almost everything suddenly clapped his hands over his ears and said “La, la, la...I’m not listening. La, la, la!”

Jaye forgot to be impressed. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Plausible deniability...for when the licensing board finds out I’ve kidnapped you and kept you from Approved Treatment of your ‘sodes, even though you’re still having delusions. Do you think that it’ll work?”

“Maybe...if your boss is a mouth-breather. I wouldn’t try a life of crime, though...and they’re not delusions... they’re like...fate speaking through me.”

”My boss thinks I’m a genius. Her boss is a mouth-breather. And I believe you, by the way.”

”You believe in fate? Because you don’t seem like the type.

”I believe that you believe it, and that’s enough for me to protect you from getting tranqued to the gills by a jerk-off like Shapiro.”

“So, if you liked him, that would be okay?”

“Well, maybe,” House said, “But you and I have spent some time together...how likely would you say that is?”

“Good point...so, do you want to hear the latest fate-o-gram? It’s kind of important to your future happiness.”

”Ooh, surprises about me are the best surprises ever!”

erika, you are going to post this somewhere all together when it's complete aren't you? I want to be able to go back and get all of it at once for a complete read.

Oh, and I think you should have a scene of House and Jaye playing poker together and something in the room keeps telling Jaye what cards House has so he loses his ass. Ha!

Well, I might, but I don't have a site or anything of my own...anyone know of an archive that might suit for it?

Silverlake and Glass Onion are multi-fandom. ANYTHING goes.

Bet you thought I forgot about this, didn't you? Nah...
“You have to make her stop,” the young woman in Wilson’s office told him. She looked familiar, especially those amazing eyes, but it was early, and House had, of course, stolen his coffee again. He had no sense of personal property whatever. Wilson should have been more annoyed about it, but...

To protect himself from more personal thoughts, Wilson stepped behind his desk. “Okay... make who stop what?”

”My mother...at least my sister’s been in the office with this other lawyer...Stacy something, which I thought kept her off my ass, but now my mother wants to send me to the fricking Mayo clinic. God, like going to Minnesota ever solved anyone’s problems...”Wilson moved over to the young woman and patted her on the shoulder. It was second nature, despite the fact his recall was still fuzzy. He hoped she wouldn’t...

“You don’t remember me, do you? I’m Jaye. Or as you probably think of me: The Crazy Patient That Frenched You.”

”Oh, Ms. Tyler! Of course... Have you eaten?”

”Are you hoping if you buy me breakfast, I’ll do it again, or what?”

“Oh, no, hardly, Ms. Tyler.” Damn House, being right all the time. He still remembered the spring in his step he’d had all that day and how Julie and he had made love for the first time in weeks after that...he supposed he should have felt guilty, but he just felt alive...alive enough to send that stupid plant, which, what the hell was that...”I was just about to go eat, Ms. Tyler. Didn’t want to be rude.”

”My tongue’s been in your mouth. I think that means you can call me Jaye...should I be upset that that isn’t the weirdest sentence I’ve said all year? It was bad enough when I was a disappointment to my mother without her thinking I’m crazy, too!” Wilson almost couldn’t believe it when she started to cry. She was the youngest and healthiest patient to ever wet his jacket with her tears.

”You’re not crazy. Not terribly discriminating, but definitely not crazy.” He gave her a tissue and was rewarded by a crooked, but still incandescent smile.

“Really?”

”I’m a doctor...I know things. And right now, I prescribe pancakes.”

Whoohoo, erika!

He had no sense of personal property whatever

Hee. Waiting to see where this is going to go.

“You have to make her stop,” the young woman in Wilson’s office told him. She looked familiar, especially those amazing eyes, but it was early, and House had, of course, stolen his coffee again. He had no sense of personal property whatever. Wilson should have been more annoyed about it, but...

To protect himself from more personal thoughts, Wilson stepped behind his desk. “Okay... make who stop what?”

”My mother...at least my sister’s been in the office with this other lawyer...Stacy something, which I thought kept her off my ass, but now my mother wants to send me to the fricking Mayo clinic. God, like going to Minnesota ever solved anyone’s problems...”Wilson moved over to the young woman and patted her on the shoulder. It was second nature, despite the fact his recall was still fuzzy. He hoped she wouldn’t...

“You don’t remember me, do you? I’m Jaye. Or as you probably think of me: The Crazy Patient That Frenched You.”

”Oh, Ms. Tyler! Of course... Have you eaten?”

”Are you hoping if you buy me breakfast, I’ll do it again, or what?”

“Oh, no, hardly, Ms. Tyler.” Damn House, being right all the time. He still remembered the spring in his step he’d had all that day and how Julie and he had made love for the first time in weeks after that...he supposed he should have felt guilty, but he just felt alive...alive enough to send that stupid plant, which, what the hell was that...”I was just about to go eat, Ms. Tyler. Didn’t want to be rude.”

”My tongue’s been in your mouth. I think that means you can call me Jaye...should I be upset that that isn’t the weirdest sentence I’ve said all year? It was bad enough when I was a disappointment to my mother without her thinking I’m crazy, too!” Wilson almost couldn’t believe it when she started to cry. She was the youngest and healthiest patient to ever wet his jacket with her tears.

”You’re not crazy. Not terribly discriminating, but definitely not crazy.” He gave her a tissue and was rewarded by a crooked, but still incandescent, smile.

“Really?”

”I’m a doctor...I know things. And right now, I prescribe pancakes.”

James got Jaye seated and noticed her nut pancakes weren’t as good as what he could make at home and he briefly regretted not bringing her there, but how would that look? Like Consolation Sex...Such a Sweetheart Sex...one disorder he knew all too well. He was gonna have to call in someone guaranteed to squash most fuzzy impulses...if that was true, though, what about the plant? The inconsistency made his head ache, and probably contributed to his change of approach with House, telephonically. Nice didn’t work, logical and reasoned didn’t work, time to try absolutely fucking rude.
“Get your ass down here.” He said before his childhood good manners could take over. “I need a consult and I know your show’s been over for ten minutes already.”

“Who is this?” Wilson could hear surprise and amusement mingling in the diagnostician’s voice. “Wilson, if this is you, cut it off or radiate it, okay? Consult over.”

”Of course it’s me.” Wilson huffed, “I’m the only man alive that talks to you that way without fearing for his life.”

“That must be why I can’t quit you then.” House said, and Wilson could hear the smirk.

“We can trade bon mots later...right now I want a...hideout, okay?”

”I warned you Donna’s husband was a redneck, Jimmy.” House teased. “Now isn’t that better than making up fake consults. You and Ms. Tyler can come here, just for tonight.”

“How the hell...”

“ Because it’s always like this with your pets, Wilson. You swear you’ll feed them, but then Uncle Greg gets stuck with the mess.”

”You are such a bastard.”

“Thank you, Wilson. Love you too. Does Jaye like rawhides or has she moved onto...some other kind of chewtoy?”

“I won’t even...argh. Seriously, am I putting you out?”

”No...just a poker game. Civilians, not docs...they lose more graciously.”

“Naturally.”

“I’m gifted, (continued...)

( continues...) Wilson, and have spent many years honing those gifts. Nature has nothing to do with it.”

“I’m grateful at least that you don’t measure your potential in milligrams...”

”Oh, dear Lord, subtext. Gee, pills are bad. Lucky you were so delicate about slipping that in there...no wonder Ms. Tyler thinks you’re bitchin’.”
“Actually, we’ve spent more than a few minutes talking about you.”

“Really?”If it were anyone else, Wilson would think the speaker was excited, but House didn’t *do* excited. Still...

“She needs a refuge, that’s all.”

“Is that some teen slang?"

“Shut up.” Wilson hung up.

“Wilson, if this is you, cut it off or radiate it, okay? Consult over.”

Classic. Absolutely classic. I could imagine that being a line on the show.