Old Fic: Posession

[aisalynn]

Title: Possession
Author: Aisalynn
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson friendship,
Summary: While trying to get paperwork done, House informs Wilson of something. Takes place after "No More Mr. Nice Guy." 

Wilson didn’t look up from his paperwork when his office door suddenly burst open. Only one person ever entered his office without knocking first and it was such a common occurrence that Wilson didn’t even bother to be irritated by it anymore.

“Hey, House,” he called out as the man limped in to the room. He didn’t stop writing. He had dinner plans with Amber later on and he didn’t want work to get in the way of their night.

House didn’t say anything, just walked around Wilson’s office, reading the titles of the books on his shelves, toying with the gifts and knickknacks given to him by his patients. Wilson frowned as House gave one teddy bear a particularly vicious poke with his cane, sending it tumbling to the ground. “Problem with your case?” he asked when House continued to dig his cane into the poor stuffed bear’s stomach.

House shook his head. “No, the kid’s getting better so its got to be environmental. I’ve sent the kiddies to his house to find out what’s poisoning him.”

Ah. So he was bored.

House stopped torturing the stuffed animal and leaned against the couch. “Wanna come over tonight? Discovery channel is playing one of those ‘I was abducted by aliens’ documentaries. We can laugh at the stupidity of other people.”

“You laugh at the stupidity of other people everyday.”

“Yes, but I don’t get make jokes about anal probes everyday.” He said this as if anal probe jokes were a necessary aspect of life.

Wilson smirked. “Well, you could, but then people might suspect you have a bit of a fixation. Besides, I can’t. It’s Amber’s weekend, remember?”

House rolled his eyes. “The arrangement I made with the Bitch stopped being amusing a while ago. One can only stand to hear so many “Mommy” jokes before I begin to wonder just what type of sick sexual fantasies you two indulge in.”

It was Wilson’s turn to roll his eyes. Then he shrugged and went back to his paperwork. “Well, it was your idea.”

“No, it was Chase’s idea. And a bad one. Which shouldn’t be a surprise considering its Chase.”

“Huh. That’s funny, because the joint custody idea seemed exactly like something you would come up with.”

“What can I say, Chase wants to be me. But I think you should be able to tell the real thing from a cheap imitation.”

Something in House’s tone made Wilson look up. House had folded his hands together on his cane and was leaning forward, blue eyes focused intently on Wilson‘s.

Wilson cleared his throat and looked away. “Well…” He struggled to find something to say, suddenly uncomfortable. “Maybe you should have realized it was a bad idea before you suggested it. The custody thing, I mean.”

He swore House smirked as he leaned back and started twirling his cane. Wilson watched its path closely, lest more items on his desk came to the same unfortunate fate as the teddy bear.

“Normally, I would just wait until you fell back into your old bad habits. But I’ve gotten impatient in my old age. I really don’t want to wait until Cutthroat Bitch becomes the fourth Mrs. Wilson and you start making excuses to stay away from home again. Besides,” he added as he knocked a porcelain figurine off the desk, causing Wilson to flinch and sigh. “I didn’t think I’d be able to stand another night of bowling with Chase, so clearly something had to be done--”

Wilson held up a hand. “Hold on. You went bowling with Chase?” He smirked. “Should I be the jealous one now?”

House scoffed. “Hardly. It’s not going to happen again. He was like some hero-worshipping little boy. The “bonding time” vibes kept making me gag. And he kept giving me bowling tips--”

“So he was winning then?”

“Besides,” House talked over him, shooting him a glare, “I’m not jealous. I’m possessive. There’s a difference.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.”

“Jealousy is wanting to have something you don’t have. Possessiveness is the unwillingness to share something you own.”

Wilson absorbed this. “Wait… Are you saying that you… own me?”

House bounced his cane up and down and looked smug. “Yup.”

Wilson looked at him incredulously. “Since when?”

“Since you lost that poker game six years ago.”

At first Wilson didn’t know what he was talking about. Then he remembered. “That was supposed to be a joke!”

“That’s what you thought.”

He shook his head. “I was drunk!”

“Too bad. You signed the contract, which I still have by the way, so I own your life.” He leaned forward on his cane again, blue eyes suddenly serious and piercing. “So I won’t be happy when CB cuts out your cancer-kid loving heart to eat with her cereal before she drops you at my door again.” He stood up, staring down at Wilson with a fierce expression.

“I don’t like it when people damage my things.”

With that House walked out of the office, leaving Wilson staring opened-mouthed after him, paperwork completely forgotten.