| FIC UPDATE: The Oncologist Trap 3/6 (House/Wilson, PG) |
[Jun. 10th, 2007|10:33 am] |
Title: The Oncologist Trap (3/6)
Fandom: House, M.D.
Pairing/Rating: House/Wilson, PG.
Length: 1900 words.
Spoilers: Post-ep for "Half-Wit", mentions of events up to "House Training".
Summary: House subtly seduces Wilson. Somehow.
Chase logs off his Facebook session (despite House's disbelieving snort, there really is no community for James Wilson's Exes--at least, not that he could find with a morning's work. Bearded ladies, on the other hand, are distressingly common). He stands up and grabs his jacket off the back of his chair. "Well, come on," he says. "Let's go."
Foreman frowns at him skeptically, and Cameron blinks at him wide-eyed. "Go where?" she asks.
Chase raises his eyebrows and looks pointedly after House and Wilson. "To the cafeteria."
Foreman shakes his head and takes a seat at the conference table. "No. No way." He picks up the latest issue of Neuropathology. "I am not following them," he says, pointing the journal at the door. "I spent the morning risking breaking and entering charges--again--not, mind you, so that I could save lives, but so House could learn nothing about Wilson that he doesn't already know better than we ever will. I am not that morbidly curious."
Chase shrugs. "House did put you on observation duty." Foreman gives him a look of complete disdain. Chase just grins at his pouting. "Hey, you signed up for this job," he reminds him.
"Yeah," Foreman says, with a snort, "to learn from House. Not to help him get a boyfriend."
Chase shrugs amiably. Foreman's never been one to put himself out if the benefit to Eric Foreman isn't immediately obvious. Once you learned that about him, he was easy to get along with. "Your loss. Cameron?"
Cameron exchanges a glance with Foreman, a tiny crease appearing just between her eyebrows. "Maybe we should give them some privacy," she says, sounding torn.
"House is not going to declare his love just because we're not there," Chase says, trying to hold back his laughter. The idea of House declaring his love to anyone--anywhere--seems ludicrous, but even crazier is the idea that he'd hold back just because his fellows happened to be within earshot. "Come on," he wheedles. Even if they don't learn anything, a lunch with Cameron is appealing enough that he lays on the charm. "I'm hungry. You must be, too. And they're going to the cafeteria. It's not exactly a hush-hush location."
Foreman makes a disgusted sound and buries himself in his neurology journal. "You two go ahead," he says. "I'm sure I'll get more information than I ever wanted from the gossip mill later on."
Cameron sighs. "House is going to know we're watching."
"Probably," Chase says, and this time he does laugh. He's pretty sure House expects them to follow him. What's the point in dangling this weirdly personal revelation in front of them if he didn't expect them to be curious? "I'm pretty sure he won't care," he adds. "Look. House doesn't want to be obvious. You think he wouldn't say something to Wilson directly if he thought it would work? He said he wanted to trick him--I think he just wants to be subtle."
"House wouldn't know subtle if it ran him over in a monster truck," Foreman says, but he puts down his journal and crosses his arms, and his disgusted scowl has an edge of thoughtfulness about it.
"Exactly," Chase says. He's caught their attention, and the puzzle House has offered them is tugging at him. Why, after three years as House's fellow, is this the first time that Chase has heard that House might even remotely have an interest in men? Why Wilson? Why now? Chase bends over the conference table, leaning closer to Cameron. "Don't you see? He doesn't know how to do it! He hasn't been with anyone seriously since Stacy, and she dumped him over a year ago, or he dumped her." The paralegal he'd been supplying coffee to for the last few months of Stacy's employment at the hospital wasn't clear on that, but Chase knows he has the gist of the story right. "And right now, after months of avoiding Wilson like the plague, suddenly they're best friends again, and now this? I think House wants to take a risk."
It's Cameron's turn to look skeptical, and she raises one disbelieving eyebrow. "We are talking about the same House, right? Deflects any emotional conversation by launching his tennis ball at it?"
"From you, maybe," Foreman says. He glances at her ironically. "No offense, Cameron."
Cameron throws her hands up and says imploringly to the ceiling, "I'm over him. Over--"
"But not with Wilson," Chase interrupts. "Wilson's the only one who makes him even think twice. Remember that CIPA nerve biopsy he talked House out of?"
"Maybe you're right," Foreman says. "But who cares? If he wants to 'take a risk'"--Chase can hear the quotation marks--"let him. We have better things to do."
Chase turns to stare at the empty whiteboard, then at the piles of House's discarded paperwork that surrounds them. Cameron giggles. "That eager to get to the clinic, Foreman?" she asks. "I'm sure Cuddy would love to send a chickenpox epidemic your way."
Foreman rolls his eyes. "Okay, fine. Let's go to the cafeteria." He stands up and goes to the door, before stopping and pointing at Chase. "But only because today is egg salad day."
***
Chase casually inspects the selection of the cafeteria's finest dessert products, carefully glancing over his shoulder at the seating area while he hesitates artfully between the green Jell-O with the grapes in the center, and the blue Jell-O without. Cameron sidles up beside him, a chef salad and a coffee on her tray, and leans in to whisper, "I don't think they've noticed you yet, but if you keep holding up the line, the orderlies behind us are going to revolt."
"I was just trying--"
"To be subtle. I know." Cameron smiles sweetly and picks a container of chocolate pudding for him, adding it to his bag of chips and the cafeteria's own styling of macaroni and cheese. "Aren't we here because House doesn't know the meaning of the word?"
Chase shrugs slightly and slides his tray towards the cashier. "Well, that's one reason," he starts, smiling sideways at her, and enjoying the way she brushes against his side as she follows him through the line.
"All right." Foreman slams his tray down behind theirs in front of the cashier. "Let's get this over with. The sooner House makes a move, the sooner we might actually start work again."
Cameron winks at Chase, on the side Foreman can't see. "Thank you," she says, taking her change from the cashier, and smiles teasingly at Chase before she heads for an empty table.
Chase holds himself back from waving after her, and Foreman laughs behind him. "Man, that is such a bad idea," he says. "I didn't think it could get worse than House and Wilson, but no, just don't."
"What?" Chase says, paying for his lunch loftily. "I'm not doing anything."
"Right," Foreman says. "You are going to get eaten."
"It's just lunch," Chase protests, but Foreman just shakes his head, still laughing, and they follow Cameron to the table she's staked out.
The location is a good one, near the edge of the cafeteria where they won't have to compete with the crowd's noise too much to hear what's being said. "The chicken is in the henhouse," Foreman mutters sarcastically, and nods towards House and Wilson, who are sitting perhaps fifteen feet away. It's probably about the best angle they're going to get: they can see Wilson in three-quarter profile over House's shoulder. When House turns to the left, Chase can see the scowl on his face that means either everything is business as usual, or else the jig is up and Chase will be running bloodwork for the rest of his fellowship.
Chase slides into their booth beside Cameron. She smiles into her coffee, and leans around him as well as she can to see House and Wilson. "I don't think they're doing anything different today," she says.
"House is eating off Wilson's tray," Foreman says blandly.
"That's not a change," Cameron hisses. She nudges Chase to sit back, giving her a better view.
"Wilson's not trying to stop him," Chase offers.
"Also not new." Foreman stretches out his legs and raises an eyebrow. "Even if House says something, no way is Wilson going to agree."
Cameron frowns. "He's smiling."
"He thinks he's talking to his friend," Foreman says, "not the guy hitting on him. That might just make a difference."
Chase snickers to himself, trying not to dislodge Cameron's slight weight against his forearm. Foreman glances over at Wilson again, one eyebrow quirked. "Please don't tell me you believe they're going to run off into the sunset together," he says. "Even you can't be that deluded."
"They're happy," Cameron says, as if she's complaining that Foreman completely lacks a soul.
"They're barely functional," Foreman says.
Cameron narrows her eyes, as if this is an old debate that she's continuing. "They're committed."
"They probably should be," Chase interjects lightly, but Foreman ignores him.
"That," he says, jutting his jaw towards them, "is not commitment."
Cameron leans back, satisfied. "They've lived together. They've known each other for a dozen years, they've gone through some horrendous things, and they're still together. Isn't that how you defined it?"
"Yeah, as friends," Foreman says. "Bring sex into it and it's going to be entirely different."
"You don't think they're going to make it."
"No, I don't." Foreman smirks and takes a bite of his sandwich.
Cameron turns to Chase. "What do you think?"
Chase blinks and leans back. "Me?"
"Do you think they'll get together?"
"And stay together," Foreman says.
"It's too soon to tell," Chase says. "Maybe when House actually says something."
"He's not going to back down," Cameron says. "Chase?"
Chase shrugs and purses his lips. "Don't look at me," he says. "I don't even know why he's doing this now."
"House is a coward," Foreman says, pointing at Cameron. "He won't say anything."
Cameron smiles sweetly, and Chase shivers for some reason he can't entirely put into words. "If you're so sure, let's see you put something on the line."
Foreman stares at her skeptically. "Let's see your money."
Cameron picks up her purse and serenely pulls out a hundred dollar bill. Foreman laughs incredulously. "Do you carry cash around like that every day?" he asks.
Cameron simply holds up the bill. "Are you in?"
Foreman chuckles. "Yeah, all right."
"How long is long term?" Chase asks. He looks over towards House and Wilson. Wilson's concentrating on his salad. House has taken his bag of chips and is watching them like a spectator at a tennis match. He grins at Chase and crunches down on a chip. Chase turns back to Cameron and Foreman before he can give away more than he already has, although it's probably far, far too late.
Cameron shrugs negligently. "A month?"
"Fine by me," Foreman says, sitting back smugly. "I'll take your money."
Cameron puts her hundred on the table and slides it across towards Foreman. Chase can't help sneaking another glance at House. He's bending towards Wilson, gesturing, and Wilson rolls his eyes and reluctantly hands over his wallet. House goes through it, pulls out some cash, then tosses the wallet on his tray and pushes it back towards Wilson. He stands up, grabbing his cane. He stalks out of the cafeteria, passing by their table, and as he goes, he covers Cameron's hundred with one of his own.
to be continued |
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