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28 January 2008 @ 03:42 pm
Fic: Air Guitar  
Title: Air Guitar
Fandom: House MD
Characters: House/Wilson friendship
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: Small spoilers for early season 4
Disclaimer: I don't own House.
Summary: "Wilson remembered the logistics of that prank well- filling up the Dean of Medicine's entire desk with Jello was a task that required at least two people."
Word count: 1060
Status: Complete
A/N: Complete and utter fluff.

Wilson rubbed his eyes and stretched, freeing himself momentarily from the stack of paperwork in front of him. The late November sun streamed through his office window on to his desk, giving the knick-knacks and small gifts stationed there a shimmering, shining glow. Swiveling in his office chair, Wilson turned towards the balcony connecting House's office to his. The clear winter afternoon allowed him to see directly into House's office, where the diagnostician was turned away from the balcony to face his desk, supposedly doing paperwork.

Wilson grinned slightly as House pulled out his iPod. He loved watching House listen to music. It was a more personal and wild side of House that no one even realized was there. House, not even glancing towards Wilson's office, chose a song and then sat back in his office chair.

As the music began, House's head bobbed in time while his hands drummed on the desk in front of him. After a few seconds, and a glance to be sure his office blinds were closed (Wilson knew House didn't trust his new fellows enough to see him do this. He only let his old fellows see him sing or play his guitar purposely a handful of times, and even those were at the very end of their time with him.), his hands came up to play a air guitar solo. His face contorted in a rocker's grimace, House leaned back in his chair and let his fingers run wild across his imaginary guitar. His hands then moved down to play a typical rock drum pattern on his desk (left left right left left left right), filling in the space between measures with arm-flailing drum action.

Suddenly, the door to House's office opened and one of his new fellows hurried in. House, watching the door, quickly dropped the rocker act and sat at his desk, looking like he had been surfing on the computer for the last couple of minutes instead of silently rocking out. Wilson smirked as Thirteen (it was funny, really, that neither he nor House had, or ever will, know her name) turned to House, completely oblivious to her boss's air guitar and drums.

As she began talking, House made no move to remove the headphones from his ears. This left her to either shout above the music or wait until he deemed whatever she had to say was important enough to interrupt his music. Wilson knew House didn't have a case, so he wasn't surprised when House barely tried to pretend his was listening to Thirteen at all.  Finally, when she had finished, House merely dismissed her from his office, never once taking off either of his headphones.

Glancing at the clock, Wilson turned back towards his desk. He still had legions of paperwork to do, and he wanted to get home before midnight.

A couple of hours later, Wilson again resurfaced from his work, taking a well-needed break. As he walked to the soda machine down the hall, he passed House's office. Two of his fellows, Taub and Kutner, were sitting at the conference table- Wilson assumed Thirteen had clinic duty- watching Cuddy chew-out House for the prank he pulled a yesterday.

Wilson remembered the logistics of that prank well- filling up the Dean of Medicine's entire desk with Jello was a task that required at least two people. Wilson remembered standing guard as House unloaded bowl after bowl of green Jello from his backpack, then dropping back to dump it into every drawer in Cuddy's desk. They alternated between filling her desk and eating, until they were both stuffed and Cuddy's desk looked like a radioactive alien exploded inside it. Even though they were caught a couple of hours later by Nurse Brenda (green Jello stains, apparently), Wilson wasn't really worried about Cuddy's ranting or her punishment. She would give House a couple of extra clinic hours, and make him clean out her desk- nothing too drastic. It was one of the more mundane tricks House had pulled in the last couple of months anyway.

As Wilson watched, House removed one earphone and turned towards Cuddy, completely uninterested in whatever she had to say. His head still bobbing slightly, he made a face at her before (as far as Wilson could tell) making a completely inappropriate remark about whatever she was wearing. Taub and Kutner both grinned at the remark until they saw the stony face of the Dean of Medicine glaring at them through the conference room window. Apologetic looks on their faces, the two doctors quickly turned back to doing nothing. As Cuddy, sighing, turned to leave the room, Wilson left also. If Cuddy caught him watching, she would give him an earful about House all the way down to the soda machine. Besides, his hands were still stained a light green.

Surprisingly, Wilson's paperwork didn't last as long as he thought. Locking his office door around 7:00, he decided to stop in House's office before heading home. Just before Wilson reached his destination, the door to the conference room opened and House's three fellows walked out. Heads bent down to talk about their newest case, they almost ran into Wilson who hurriedly stepped aside for them. They brushed past him, talking of tests and blood samples and whatever House was having them do.

His hand on the door handle, Wilson hesitated for a second before walking into House's office. His friend was leaning back in his office chair, eyes closed, listening to his music, looking calmer than usual. As soon as Wilson entered, House removed both earphones from his ears and opened his eyes, watching Wilson sit tiredly in his lounge chair. The two talked about this and that- yesterday's movie, tomorrow's game, tonight's TV show- content to enjoy each other's company. Finally, Wilson stood up and slung his coat over his shoulder.

"You really shouldn't sit like that," he said turning towards the door. "Your leg will hurt more tomorrow."

House shrugged at him. "Why are you telling me that?" He asked, his almost-smile taking the edge off his words, "It's not like I listen to you anyway."

Wilson turned back face House. "Of course you don't," he said, smiling softly. As he headed for the elevator, Wilson nearly missed the almost warm smile House gave him as he settled back into his office chair.

Current Mood: excitedexcited
angelcat2865angelcat2865 on January 30th, 2008 12:41 am (UTC)
I like it.
Emilywritemage on January 30th, 2008 10:00 pm (UTC)
Glad to here it. Thanks for reading and reviewing =)
a hyperintelligent shade of the colour bluephinnia on January 30th, 2008 01:05 am (UTC)
Hee. :-)
I love this, the observations/characterization was spot on and the visuals were great: Wilson with his slightly green hands, House with his smile when Wilson's back was turned. <3 Very, very nice.
Emilywritemage on January 30th, 2008 10:01 pm (UTC)

Salfeanix on January 30th, 2008 01:50 am (UTC)
I really like seeing what House gets up to when he thinks no one else is watching...Makes him a little more human.

Well done :)
Emilywritemage on January 30th, 2008 10:01 pm (UTC)
Thanks for reading and reviewing =D
xantemortemxxantemortemx on January 30th, 2008 03:50 pm (UTC)
Thank you for writing this!

I was in SUCH a bad mood before I read this. Seriously, I felt like strangling the first person to enter through the door!! But now I'm all in a good mood again, thanks to this ^__^
Emilywritemage on January 30th, 2008 10:02 pm (UTC)
I'm glad to know this helped =)

Thanks for reading and reviewing.
nikki74 on January 31st, 2008 06:43 pm (UTC)
Gah.I love this.I lovelovelove how he does listen to Wilson and only takes his earphones off for him.*squees*
Emilywritemage on January 31st, 2008 11:45 pm (UTC)
Thanks =D
(Anonymous) on May 13th, 2008 01:13 am (UTC)
Nice quote

Hire the morally handicapped.

(Anonymous) on August 23rd, 2008 03:04 am (UTC)
I'm new here, just wanted to say hello and introduce myself.