The Puzzle; House MD; PG
Sep. 23rd, 2007 08:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morgynleriTitle: The Puzzle
Status: Complete
Word Count: 1043
Genre: Drama, Angst
Rating: PG
Warnings: House being House
Notes: I actually finished this back in January. I didn't think it quite worked with the others (Silence and Mine at the time), so I shelved it, and ignored it. I got myself back into the mood for House, and went back over the stories that currently comprise the Banshee AU that are on my harddrive - a couple still unposted, and decided I actually like it as a House POV follow-up to Business. Probably a few days later. Not certain exactly as to when.
He opened the door, watching her for a long moment, his brain not quite processing the fact she stood outside his door. Where she never should have been. Never should have known where to look.
She nodded her head past him, widening her eyes slightly in question.
"It's a mess."
She shrugged, her fingers twisting the cap of a pen, the fidgeting at odds with her unconcerned gesture. House tilted his head, and nodded, stepping aside to let her inside. He watched her walk towards the piano as he closed the door, studying how she moved. The tense line of her spine. The slight hunch of her shoulders. The hesitation in her steps.
"Why did you come here?"
She turned, a flash of vulnerability crossing her face before it vanished. Spreading her hands in a gesture of uncertainty, she didn't meet his gaze, focusing on a point just below his collarbone. Afraid of something, perhaps. Unwilling to tell the truth, perhaps. Probably.
He limped forward, lifting her chin, waiting until she looked up to meet his eyes before he spoke again.
"How did you find my apartment?"
She reached up a hand to rest it on his wrist, her gaze steady. "Followed you." Her lips moved, readable, but only the breathiest of sounds came out. "Why protect me?"
"Would you rather I didn't?"
She lifted one shoulder in an uncertain gesture. He shook his head when she opened her mouth to talk, reaching down for her purse, pulling out the pad of paper he knew would be there.
"Write. It's easier. For both of us. Less chance I misread your lips."
He wanted to do other things with her lips, but he pushed the feeling aside. The puzzle took priority, the euphoria of solving the question of why she came.
I don't know. Your.. boss?.. was very certain you wouldn't care about anyone else getting smeared across a gossip column, or a company grapevine. I don't know if I should feel flattered or concerned because you are trying to keep that from happening to me. Or is it that you are protecting yourself?
"Always." House grimaced, tilting his head to one side a moment. "I'm not a decent person. And I'm not likely to care about keeping secrets, or protecting anyone's reputation." He met her gaze, surprised to see a spark of amusement there. "Not even yours."
Good to know. I told you, I have no real expectations of you. But you piqued my curiosity, defending me. At least a little. Even if it was only in the process of saving your own ass.
"It wasn't just saving my ass." House sat down on the bench of the piano, looking up at her. "It's a puzzle, that I don't have all the picees to yet."
What is the riddle you're trying to solve?
"You got close to me. Closer than anyone."
Really? She raised an eyebrow in disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest.
House let out a heavy breath, pressing his lips together. "Why did you come to my apartment?"
Because I could. Should I need any other reason?
"Few people do something just because they can. A lot of those are either thrill-seekers or nuts."
Then call it curiosity. I don't even know your name, yet you know mine.
House looked down at his hands a moment. "Gregory House."
Thank you. House. Gregory. I think I prefer House. It's more you. Gregory... She tapped the pen against the pad a moment. It's too intimate. Too complicated.
House chuckled, though it sounded almost bitter. This had started out so easy. Text her a message. Show up at her house. Have sex. Take a shower. Pay her. Go home. Simple. Addictive.
A single note broke the silence that fell, and he looked up at her again, and she smoothed one fingertip between his eyes. Sitting on the bench in front of him, she let her hand slowly come to rest on his mangled leg, the warmth soaking through his jeans.
He frowned, confused by her actions, trying to figure out what her motives were behind this whole thing. Ever since she showed up at the clinic, looking to find out for certain if she was pregnant, her behavior had puzzled him. Her behavior, and his own.
She picked up the pad again, rolling the pen between her fingers for a long moment before writing.
What happens now? You and I... something changed. Beyond the obvious. It started three weeks ago. You didn't want to let go. You wanted more than just the sex. And when you brought the results earlier, you wanted only to hold me. Why? What changed?
"I don't know."
It is a puzzle, then. What do you do when you can't solve a puzzle?
"I haven't had that problem before. Had other people confirm I'm right, but I haven't missed a diagnosis. Not in the long run."
Do you have others to work with? To present the problem as a hypothetical case?
"And tell them what?" House raised his brows, holding her gaze. "It's not like there are a lot of crippled jerks out there who are acting like the Grinch after he stole Christmas."
She shook with silent laughter, her eyes crinkling up at the corners, shaking her head.
The Grinch went from Scrooge to Saint Nick in a night. Don't tell me you're going to get all romantic and sappy on me all of a sudden.
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
Good. She set the pad aside, the pen on top, and reached out to cup his face between her hands. "Stay or go?" she mouthed, holding his gaze.
"Stay."
Status: Complete
Word Count: 1043
Genre: Drama, Angst
Rating: PG
Warnings: House being House
Notes: I actually finished this back in January. I didn't think it quite worked with the others (Silence and Mine at the time), so I shelved it, and ignored it. I got myself back into the mood for House, and went back over the stories that currently comprise the Banshee AU that are on my harddrive - a couple still unposted, and decided I actually like it as a House POV follow-up to Business. Probably a few days later. Not certain exactly as to when.
He opened the door, watching her for a long moment, his brain not quite processing the fact she stood outside his door. Where she never should have been. Never should have known where to look.
She nodded her head past him, widening her eyes slightly in question.
"It's a mess."
She shrugged, her fingers twisting the cap of a pen, the fidgeting at odds with her unconcerned gesture. House tilted his head, and nodded, stepping aside to let her inside. He watched her walk towards the piano as he closed the door, studying how she moved. The tense line of her spine. The slight hunch of her shoulders. The hesitation in her steps.
"Why did you come here?"
She turned, a flash of vulnerability crossing her face before it vanished. Spreading her hands in a gesture of uncertainty, she didn't meet his gaze, focusing on a point just below his collarbone. Afraid of something, perhaps. Unwilling to tell the truth, perhaps. Probably.
He limped forward, lifting her chin, waiting until she looked up to meet his eyes before he spoke again.
"How did you find my apartment?"
She reached up a hand to rest it on his wrist, her gaze steady. "Followed you." Her lips moved, readable, but only the breathiest of sounds came out. "Why protect me?"
"Would you rather I didn't?"
She lifted one shoulder in an uncertain gesture. He shook his head when she opened her mouth to talk, reaching down for her purse, pulling out the pad of paper he knew would be there.
"Write. It's easier. For both of us. Less chance I misread your lips."
He wanted to do other things with her lips, but he pushed the feeling aside. The puzzle took priority, the euphoria of solving the question of why she came.
I don't know. Your.. boss?.. was very certain you wouldn't care about anyone else getting smeared across a gossip column, or a company grapevine. I don't know if I should feel flattered or concerned because you are trying to keep that from happening to me. Or is it that you are protecting yourself?
"Always." House grimaced, tilting his head to one side a moment. "I'm not a decent person. And I'm not likely to care about keeping secrets, or protecting anyone's reputation." He met her gaze, surprised to see a spark of amusement there. "Not even yours."
Good to know. I told you, I have no real expectations of you. But you piqued my curiosity, defending me. At least a little. Even if it was only in the process of saving your own ass.
"It wasn't just saving my ass." House sat down on the bench of the piano, looking up at her. "It's a puzzle, that I don't have all the picees to yet."
What is the riddle you're trying to solve?
"You got close to me. Closer than anyone."
Really? She raised an eyebrow in disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest.
House let out a heavy breath, pressing his lips together. "Why did you come to my apartment?"
Because I could. Should I need any other reason?
"Few people do something just because they can. A lot of those are either thrill-seekers or nuts."
Then call it curiosity. I don't even know your name, yet you know mine.
House looked down at his hands a moment. "Gregory House."
Thank you. House. Gregory. I think I prefer House. It's more you. Gregory... She tapped the pen against the pad a moment. It's too intimate. Too complicated.
House chuckled, though it sounded almost bitter. This had started out so easy. Text her a message. Show up at her house. Have sex. Take a shower. Pay her. Go home. Simple. Addictive.
A single note broke the silence that fell, and he looked up at her again, and she smoothed one fingertip between his eyes. Sitting on the bench in front of him, she let her hand slowly come to rest on his mangled leg, the warmth soaking through his jeans.
He frowned, confused by her actions, trying to figure out what her motives were behind this whole thing. Ever since she showed up at the clinic, looking to find out for certain if she was pregnant, her behavior had puzzled him. Her behavior, and his own.
She picked up the pad again, rolling the pen between her fingers for a long moment before writing.
What happens now? You and I... something changed. Beyond the obvious. It started three weeks ago. You didn't want to let go. You wanted more than just the sex. And when you brought the results earlier, you wanted only to hold me. Why? What changed?
"I don't know."
It is a puzzle, then. What do you do when you can't solve a puzzle?
"I haven't had that problem before. Had other people confirm I'm right, but I haven't missed a diagnosis. Not in the long run."
Do you have others to work with? To present the problem as a hypothetical case?
"And tell them what?" House raised his brows, holding her gaze. "It's not like there are a lot of crippled jerks out there who are acting like the Grinch after he stole Christmas."
She shook with silent laughter, her eyes crinkling up at the corners, shaking her head.
The Grinch went from Scrooge to Saint Nick in a night. Don't tell me you're going to get all romantic and sappy on me all of a sudden.
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
Good. She set the pad aside, the pen on top, and reached out to cup his face between her hands. "Stay or go?" she mouthed, holding his gaze.
"Stay."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-09-26 02:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-26 04:54 am (UTC)'S not late. 'S early.
Birthday's 4 October.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-26 05:15 am (UTC)