No Martini, No Party
Nov. 13th, 2011 07:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
damigellaSummary: missing scene between 8.04 and 8.05 (spoilers for both).
Characters: Wilson, Foreman.
Rating: general.
Warning: mention of alcohol abuse.
Word count: ~350.
Note: fic born of a PM remark by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
luridlurker, who insisted that Wilson must have noticed what was going on when they replaced his wall with a garage door.
"It's about House, right?"
Foreman's eyes are a sufficient answer, as he sits down in one of the visitors' chairs. They are more expensive than Cuddy's, more elegant, and less comfortable.
"What did he do this time?"
"Look at this first."
The Dean pushes forward a sheet of paper. One with few words and fewer numbers, and yet very interesting.
"Twenty thousand dollars for remodeling the long-term oncology care facility. I spent years begging Cuddy for this, and she always refused claiming it would not change the survival rates. You must have an outrageous request."
"I do. Not mine, but of the donor whose money will enable me to carry out your favorite project."
Wilson recognizes the signature on the check in Foreman's hands, so similar to the one he received just two hours ago. His breath itches as he counts the zeroes. "Where did House get all that money? And what does he want from me?"
"You could call it optimism, or insider trading. He won a big bet, and now wants me to replace part of the dividing wall between your offices with some kind of garage door."
"And where am I supposed to work while they do this?"
"You won't even notice if you don't come to work too early. You'll just have the cleaning staff around every morning."
Wilson stops and thinks. Not that House ever had problems pestering him in the past, even without direct access to his office. "Do I get just a library, or also the books?"
Foreman smiles, now. A satisfied administrator's smile. "Some books. Glad to hear you agree."
Wilson stands up when an insisting beep calls his attention. "This must be Johnny wanting to say goodbye. Sorry, I have to go." He's already at the door when Foreman's voice stops him.
"House knows I was going to ask you, but can you pretend to be surprised in front of his team?"
"If it's not too embarassing."
"I don't see why it should be. Especially if you like Martini."
Years have gone by, but the memory of a whole day spent kneeling in the bathroom, his esophagus in flames, hasn't faded at all. Of House holding his forehead, cleaning his mouth and making sure the banana bag infusion remained in place. Laughing and teasing him.
"No, I don't."
The door closes behind him. Foreman's smile fades slowly, then returns as he decides to have a webcam installed on Wilson's side too.
Characters: Wilson, Foreman.
Rating: general.
Warning: mention of alcohol abuse.
Word count: ~350.
Note: fic born of a PM remark by
luridlurker, who insisted that Wilson must have noticed what was going on when they replaced his wall with a garage door."It's about House, right?"
Foreman's eyes are a sufficient answer, as he sits down in one of the visitors' chairs. They are more expensive than Cuddy's, more elegant, and less comfortable.
"What did he do this time?"
"Look at this first."
The Dean pushes forward a sheet of paper. One with few words and fewer numbers, and yet very interesting.
"Twenty thousand dollars for remodeling the long-term oncology care facility. I spent years begging Cuddy for this, and she always refused claiming it would not change the survival rates. You must have an outrageous request."
"I do. Not mine, but of the donor whose money will enable me to carry out your favorite project."
Wilson recognizes the signature on the check in Foreman's hands, so similar to the one he received just two hours ago. His breath itches as he counts the zeroes. "Where did House get all that money? And what does he want from me?"
"You could call it optimism, or insider trading. He won a big bet, and now wants me to replace part of the dividing wall between your offices with some kind of garage door."
"And where am I supposed to work while they do this?"
"You won't even notice if you don't come to work too early. You'll just have the cleaning staff around every morning."
Wilson stops and thinks. Not that House ever had problems pestering him in the past, even without direct access to his office. "Do I get just a library, or also the books?"
Foreman smiles, now. A satisfied administrator's smile. "Some books. Glad to hear you agree."
Wilson stands up when an insisting beep calls his attention. "This must be Johnny wanting to say goodbye. Sorry, I have to go." He's already at the door when Foreman's voice stops him.
"House knows I was going to ask you, but can you pretend to be surprised in front of his team?"
"If it's not too embarassing."
"I don't see why it should be. Especially if you like Martini."
Years have gone by, but the memory of a whole day spent kneeling in the bathroom, his esophagus in flames, hasn't faded at all. Of House holding his forehead, cleaning his mouth and making sure the banana bag infusion remained in place. Laughing and teasing him.
"No, I don't."
The door closes behind him. Foreman's smile fades slowly, then returns as he decides to have a webcam installed on Wilson's side too.