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.

Thank you. House usually speaks truth. In the grossest way possible. He's very Spike, season 5 that way.

What Anne said. That line is great.

Here's some more...I'll give props to SailAweigh for some of the inspiration, though.
When they got to 221...it looked like 221, only without the thick layer of dust encrusting all stationary surfaces but the piano, computer monitor, and television screen, Wilson even thought he smelled lemons. Lemons? And the wood surfaces shone.Wilson wasn’t sure what he would do if House kept him and Jaye waiting since he couldn’t write his initials in the dust-coat anymore...which was kind of an appalling habit for a doctor to have, considering how much of house dust(not just House dust) was discarded skin flakes. Yes, James. You’ve been married for a while, haven’t you? Sitting in a room alone with a beautiful 24-year-old thinking about skin flakes. God.

He smiled at Jaye, who smiled back. Suddenly, Wilson heard music. Was that Otis Redding? He hadn’t pulled out Otis Redding since... that bastard. James didn’t need a differential to guess what his friend had planned tonight...Jesus, House, hang a tie on the door, why don’t you? Some mood lighting, perhaps. How had James wound up *feeling* like the chaperone instead of needing one? Wilson sat heavily on the couch, for once disappointed that no brown apple cores or old New England Journals slithered out of the cushions. He had *cleaned*. Actually cleaned, not just shoved shit out of the way like a college boy whose mother was coming to visit. Wilson was torn between pleasure and disappointment that it wasn’t his hoching that brought about this transformation...he also knew he wasn’t going to blame any future squalor on the infarction again.

House loped over to greet them...”I’m sorry,” he told Jaye, “if I’ve kept you waiting.”

”Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?” Wilson demanded. “About your height...no social graces. Lives in a flophouse by choice.”

Jaye, surprised by Wilson’s passion, looked on, amused. “Jeez, Wilson. Chill.”

House smirked. “Yeah, Wilson, chill.”

”This isn’t the real Greg House,” Wilson replied. “This is a pod person.”

“He’s a sweet guy,” House mock-explained. “They get emotional like that.” And then, he bent next to Jaye and said something that made her laugh and made her cheeks get pink. His vicious humor always was kind of...an ace in the hole and generally attracted a completely different type of woman than his own Boyish Oncologist pose...it wasn’t always a pose.

“May I see you in the kitchen for a moment? You’ll know it...it’s the big room with the cold box in it.”

“Help yourself,” House told Jaye, “until my poker victims get here.”

Wilson waited until cane struck tile and closed the door.”What the hell are you doing?” he hissed. “She’s young and incredibly vulnerable.”

”I’m taking an interest. Like you always want me to.”
“This is not taking an interest, Greg. You are practically doing a mating dance in front of that girl, and...”

“If you knew what I was doing why did you ask?” House asked as if it were the most natural thing in the world.”Another thing I learned boffing a lawyer...never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. Except with Chase because it’s funny when he pouts and his complexion gets blotchy.”

Wilson shifted into what House thought of as his “God, Give Me Strength” pose and seemed to ask the ceiling of 221 for guidance. “Unbelievable,” he told it.” I don’t suppose any ethical considerations have impeded this ‘Manchild’ impression of yours.”

To cover his inevitable discomfort when Wilson withheld eye contact, House said “Cable upgrade. Cool.”

“Well, yeah...not a lot of...talking going on at Chez Wilson these days...how do you always end up asking the questions?”

“Cheer up, Wilson. Maybe a stuffed bunny already told her to watch out for older men with big...canes. Now let’s get back out there before she thinks we decided to make out with each other. Although, if what I’ve seen on the internet is typical, she might like to watch.”

“Don’t be (continued...)