H/W drabble prompt: Firefly

[triedunture]

House was standing at the urinal, doing what is normally done there, when Wilson shoved a file folder in front of his eyes.

“Take this case,” he said.

“Right now?” House raised an eyebrow. “I thought you liked those shoes of yours.”

Wilson sighed, patiently waiting for House to finish and zip up. The cane was leaning against the urinal partition, and Wilson handed it to his friend.

“I’ll admit it. I’m stuck. I’m clueless. I’m a moron and you’re a genius. I’m, I’m groping blindly in the dark and you’re my single point of light.” Wilson followed House’s progress over to the sink, never letting up his stream of words. “Just please, take this case.”

“What’s so special about this case?” House asked as he tried to squeeze the last bit of bright pink soap out of the dispenser. He gave up in disgust and waved his hand in front of the motion sensor on the water facet. No water appeared.

Wilson flipped open the chart and held it up for House to peruse, crooking his arm around House’s shoulder for optimal viewing, like a one-armed hug.

“She’s almost nine,” Wilson said softly.

House snorted, his eyes moving over the chart as his hands fiddled with the sink. “Practically everyone fits that bill at some time in their life.”

“That’s my point,” Wilson sighed. With a sharp crackle, he pulled some scans out of the chart and held them up to the light. House’s eyes narrowed. Where one scan was totally incontrovertible (inoperable, two, maybe three months), another was clear and clean.

“Do it again. Background noise,” House muttered. He smacked the sink’s motion sensor with the palm of his hand. A spurt of water came, but before House could catch it in his cupped hands, it was gone.

“Did it. Four times.” Wilson replaced the scans in the file and tossed it on the countertop. “Give it here.” He grabbed House’s left wrist and yanked it towards him, fishing in his white coat pocket with his free hand.

“Hey! You’re getting all my cool germs!” House yelped indignantly.

Wilson gave his friend a long-suffering glare and produced a small plastic bottle from his pocket. His thumbnail clicked the cap open and the sharp smell of antibacterial gel filled the room.

“Take the case,” he pleaded, his soft voice at odds with the sanitary salvation he holds hostage.

House pursed his mouth before letting out a loud breath. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

Wilson nodded and poured a generous amount of gel into House’s palm, and then his own. “Thank you,” he murmured, rubbing his hands together before the solution evaporated. House did the same.

“Your single point of light, huh?” House goaded after a moment. He smirked and reclaimed his cane from where it was hooked on the edge of the sink.

Wilson smiled back and grabbed his folder, falling into step beside his friend as they made their way to the door. “Like a firefly,” he said. He pushed the door open and let House go first.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” House said as he hobbled past.


fin.

Comments

[savemoony.livejournal.com]

So season one House and Wilson. I loved how House would just take cases because Wilson said so, and the team would be so confused -- Oh, oh green and young they once were!

[triedunture.livejournal.com]

*ruffles their hair* Those were the good old days, when the biggest threat to their man-love was when Wilson would take lunch breaks.