FIC: The Dare
Feb. 13th, 2005 04:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meg_tdj*giggle* I just wrote a House fic! Yay!! :D
It's just a silly little thing, but I just had to write a House fic!! I haven't been able to get the guy out of my head for ages (as I'm sure you've all noticed), so this seemed the next logical course of action. I doubt very much that I've got the characters' voices down yet, but practice makes perfect. Hopefully I'll start getting better bunnies for this show soon. :)
Title: The Dare
Author: MegTDJ
Category: Humour
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: House takes his life into his hands after Wilson issues him a dare he just can’t resist.
Disclaimer: House and its characters are not mine. The story itself is, however, so please don’t archive without my permission.
Author’s notes: Okay… this isn’t really how I see these characters, LOL! I don’t know why such a silly idea came into my head, but I just had to write a House fan fiction, and this was what my muse commanded me to do. Hopefully somebody out there will enjoy it!
*Much thanks to Kerri for helping me along. I swear you’ll love this show once you see it!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Dare
“I dare you to do it.”
Greg almost laughed out loud at this spontaneous statement. “You dare me? What are you, ten?”
“You’ve been hinting at it all day. Just do it.”
“And if I say no, will you dog dare me?”
“I just might.”
Greg narrowed his eyes at his friend, trying to gauge whether or not he was serious. Wilson wasn’t exactly known for his reckless nature, so he could only assume that the guy wasn’t actually expecting him to go for it.
That only made the urge to take him up on it irresistible.
“Okay,” he said, grabbing his cane and rising to his feet. He made his way around his desk and had almost reached the door before he chanced a look in Wilson’s direction. The stunned look on his friend’s face just added fuel to the fire.
“Come on, House,” Wilson said as he straightened up in his chair. “I was joking.”
Greg didn’t say a word, just breezed right past him and out into the hall.
Wilson’s voice followed him as he kept on walking. “House? You’re not really going to… House? House!”
It didn’t take him long to reach the employee’s lounge, and thankfully it was almost empty.
Almost.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Cameron,” he said with as much cordiality as he could muster.
Cameron looked at him like he’d just crawled out of the sewer or something. “Um… good afternoon, Dr. House,” she said, watching him like a hawk as he crossed the room towards the refrigerator. “What are you doing?”
“What makes you think I’m doing anything?”
“I’ve never heard you say ‘good afternoon’ before, that’s what.”
Damn. She was good. He pondered for a moment, and then said carefully, “I’ll let you in on it if you promise to keep your mouth shut.”
Suddenly, she morphed into a kid and hopped out of her seat like she’d just been invited to the circus. “Sure, I promise.”
Greg pressed his finger to his lips. “Shhhh…” At Cameron’s nod, he opened the refrigerator door and leaned down to look inside.
There it was. The little blue Tupperware container that was covered with the warning, “This belongs to Dr. L. Cuddy. Do not touch. And that means YOU, Dr. House.”
Ohh, this was going to be fun.
“You’re not actually going to touch it, are you?” Cameron asked. She sounded… scared.
“Chickening out on me, Cameron?” Greg said as he pulled the container out of the fridge. “You forfeit your piece of the prize if you do.”
“No, no, I just… are you sure about this? I mean, you know she’ll kill you, right?”
Greg snorted. “She won’t kill me. The worst she could do is fire me, and we all know that’s never going to happen.” He popped the container open as he spoke and took a good long whiff of its contents. Wow… no wonder she wanted to keep this to herself. This was one damn good piece of cherry pie. “Got a plate or something?”
Cameron nodded and returned to the table, where she picked up the plate and fork she’d been using to eat her salad. He limped after her and grinned when she turned and held her plate out to him eagerly.
“You’re enjoying this just as much as I am, aren’t you?”
“I will once you give me my share.”
Greg raised his eyebrows and gave her an impressed nod. He hadn’t known she could be so… devious.
He took Cuddy’s fork and cut the slice into three pieces, one of which was basically the crust with a little bit of filling stuck to it. This he intended to leave behind for Cuddy. The rest he divided between Cameron and himself. Then the two of them sat down and dug in.
The pie didn’t disappoint. It was just as delicious as it looked, the pastry practically melting in his mouth and the filling stuffed full of more cherries than he would have thought possible. It was over all too soon, and for a moment Greg considered finishing off the last of it as well.
Until he glanced at the clock.
“Crap,” he muttered, quickly reaching into his pocket for a scrap of paper and a pen. “Cuddy’s on her break. She’ll be here any second.”
Cameron’s face went white. “I… I’d better go,” she stammered, rushing for the door. “Thanks for sharing, Dr. House!”
Greg made a face and mimicked her saying her parting words. “She really is a chicken,” he mumbled. He didn’t waste any time, though. He quickly took the paper and jotted down a short, simple message - “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s polite to share? Thanks for the snack. – G.H.” Then he slipped it inside the container, closed it up, and took it back to the fridge.
He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he wandered casually out of the lounge moments later and headed back to his office. He wished he could see Cuddy’s face when she read that note, but he’d have to rely on his imagination for that.
Wilson was no longer in his office when he finally returned, but that wasn’t really a surprise. He’d probably run as far away from the scene of the crime as possible. Cameron probably had, too. Wusses.
For all of his bravado, the sound of his pager suddenly going off made Greg jump at least a foot into the air. He cleared his throat and unhooked it from his pants to take a look.
“You’re dead. L.C.”
Greg winced. “Woops.” Moving as quickly as he could with his game leg and cane, he took off for the clinic. She’d never think to look for him there.
THE END
It's just a silly little thing, but I just had to write a House fic!! I haven't been able to get the guy out of my head for ages (as I'm sure you've all noticed), so this seemed the next logical course of action. I doubt very much that I've got the characters' voices down yet, but practice makes perfect. Hopefully I'll start getting better bunnies for this show soon. :)
Title: The Dare
Author: MegTDJ
Category: Humour
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: House takes his life into his hands after Wilson issues him a dare he just can’t resist.
Disclaimer: House and its characters are not mine. The story itself is, however, so please don’t archive without my permission.
Author’s notes: Okay… this isn’t really how I see these characters, LOL! I don’t know why such a silly idea came into my head, but I just had to write a House fan fiction, and this was what my muse commanded me to do. Hopefully somebody out there will enjoy it!
*Much thanks to Kerri for helping me along. I swear you’ll love this show once you see it!
The Dare
“I dare you to do it.”
Greg almost laughed out loud at this spontaneous statement. “You dare me? What are you, ten?”
“You’ve been hinting at it all day. Just do it.”
“And if I say no, will you dog dare me?”
“I just might.”
Greg narrowed his eyes at his friend, trying to gauge whether or not he was serious. Wilson wasn’t exactly known for his reckless nature, so he could only assume that the guy wasn’t actually expecting him to go for it.
That only made the urge to take him up on it irresistible.
“Okay,” he said, grabbing his cane and rising to his feet. He made his way around his desk and had almost reached the door before he chanced a look in Wilson’s direction. The stunned look on his friend’s face just added fuel to the fire.
“Come on, House,” Wilson said as he straightened up in his chair. “I was joking.”
Greg didn’t say a word, just breezed right past him and out into the hall.
Wilson’s voice followed him as he kept on walking. “House? You’re not really going to… House? House!”
It didn’t take him long to reach the employee’s lounge, and thankfully it was almost empty.
Almost.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Cameron,” he said with as much cordiality as he could muster.
Cameron looked at him like he’d just crawled out of the sewer or something. “Um… good afternoon, Dr. House,” she said, watching him like a hawk as he crossed the room towards the refrigerator. “What are you doing?”
“What makes you think I’m doing anything?”
“I’ve never heard you say ‘good afternoon’ before, that’s what.”
Damn. She was good. He pondered for a moment, and then said carefully, “I’ll let you in on it if you promise to keep your mouth shut.”
Suddenly, she morphed into a kid and hopped out of her seat like she’d just been invited to the circus. “Sure, I promise.”
Greg pressed his finger to his lips. “Shhhh…” At Cameron’s nod, he opened the refrigerator door and leaned down to look inside.
There it was. The little blue Tupperware container that was covered with the warning, “This belongs to Dr. L. Cuddy. Do not touch. And that means YOU, Dr. House.”
Ohh, this was going to be fun.
“You’re not actually going to touch it, are you?” Cameron asked. She sounded… scared.
“Chickening out on me, Cameron?” Greg said as he pulled the container out of the fridge. “You forfeit your piece of the prize if you do.”
“No, no, I just… are you sure about this? I mean, you know she’ll kill you, right?”
Greg snorted. “She won’t kill me. The worst she could do is fire me, and we all know that’s never going to happen.” He popped the container open as he spoke and took a good long whiff of its contents. Wow… no wonder she wanted to keep this to herself. This was one damn good piece of cherry pie. “Got a plate or something?”
Cameron nodded and returned to the table, where she picked up the plate and fork she’d been using to eat her salad. He limped after her and grinned when she turned and held her plate out to him eagerly.
“You’re enjoying this just as much as I am, aren’t you?”
“I will once you give me my share.”
Greg raised his eyebrows and gave her an impressed nod. He hadn’t known she could be so… devious.
He took Cuddy’s fork and cut the slice into three pieces, one of which was basically the crust with a little bit of filling stuck to it. This he intended to leave behind for Cuddy. The rest he divided between Cameron and himself. Then the two of them sat down and dug in.
The pie didn’t disappoint. It was just as delicious as it looked, the pastry practically melting in his mouth and the filling stuffed full of more cherries than he would have thought possible. It was over all too soon, and for a moment Greg considered finishing off the last of it as well.
Until he glanced at the clock.
“Crap,” he muttered, quickly reaching into his pocket for a scrap of paper and a pen. “Cuddy’s on her break. She’ll be here any second.”
Cameron’s face went white. “I… I’d better go,” she stammered, rushing for the door. “Thanks for sharing, Dr. House!”
Greg made a face and mimicked her saying her parting words. “She really is a chicken,” he mumbled. He didn’t waste any time, though. He quickly took the paper and jotted down a short, simple message - “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s polite to share? Thanks for the snack. – G.H.” Then he slipped it inside the container, closed it up, and took it back to the fridge.
He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he wandered casually out of the lounge moments later and headed back to his office. He wished he could see Cuddy’s face when she read that note, but he’d have to rely on his imagination for that.
Wilson was no longer in his office when he finally returned, but that wasn’t really a surprise. He’d probably run as far away from the scene of the crime as possible. Cameron probably had, too. Wusses.
For all of his bravado, the sound of his pager suddenly going off made Greg jump at least a foot into the air. He cleared his throat and unhooked it from his pants to take a look.
“You’re dead. L.C.”
Greg winced. “Woops.” Moving as quickly as he could with his game leg and cane, he took off for the clinic. She’d never think to look for him there.
THE END
