lovely_ambition (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lovely_ambition) wrote2008-07-30 12:01 pm
lovely_ambition) wrote2008-07-30 12:01 pm
Entry tags:
Just Desserts
Title: Just Desserts
Pairing: Chase/OFC, implied Chase/House
Rating: PG-13.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: House sometimes likes to put on his own little soap opera.
Notes: Written for 'lunch'.
House liked to spend his lunches to himself, for the most part. There was always the conventional love of his soap operas, the happy and warm feeling his Vicodin gave him, and of course, the time-old-tradition of forcing Wilson to pay for his food. Some lunches, though, he enjoyed his own little game of Soap Opera where he found one of his fellows and tormented them until they broke or cracked or something else equally fun. Today, Foreman was working and Cameron was taking her lunch at the computer to check his mail for him.
Which meant…
“Hey kids,” House announced as he dragged a third chair to the little romantic table that currently held Chase and one of the nurses from pediatrics. He reached right over the table and plucked a breadstick for himself, crunching on it loudly as he studied Nurse Smith (really, how boring a name can you get?) up and down. “Pretty cozy, huh?”
“House…?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not picky. Whatever you ordered is great,” House casually assured. “Wow, filet mignon at lunch,” House announced as the main courses arrived. “He must really want to do you,” he confided with the nurse, picking up one of the carrots from the plate and chomping down on it hard as if trying to outdo the noise he’d made with the breadstick.
And then she went and stormed away! After Chase had spent all that money, even.
House scoffed and shifted so that he was sitting at the seat with the filet mignon lying before him, starting in on it with his knife and prying a glass of mineral water from Chase’s side of the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get off even if she’s not willing to do it.”
Chase was still gaping at him and somewhere in the hospital, Wilson could have said ‘I told you so’ if he weren’t too busy with patients and the like.
“You’re unbelievable,” Chase observed, sounding just about hopeless.
“That’s not a ‘no’.”
“Just eat your damn steak.”
THE END
Pairing: Chase/OFC, implied Chase/House
Rating: PG-13.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: House sometimes likes to put on his own little soap opera.
Notes: Written for 'lunch'.
House liked to spend his lunches to himself, for the most part. There was always the conventional love of his soap operas, the happy and warm feeling his Vicodin gave him, and of course, the time-old-tradition of forcing Wilson to pay for his food. Some lunches, though, he enjoyed his own little game of Soap Opera where he found one of his fellows and tormented them until they broke or cracked or something else equally fun. Today, Foreman was working and Cameron was taking her lunch at the computer to check his mail for him.
Which meant…
“Hey kids,” House announced as he dragged a third chair to the little romantic table that currently held Chase and one of the nurses from pediatrics. He reached right over the table and plucked a breadstick for himself, crunching on it loudly as he studied Nurse Smith (really, how boring a name can you get?) up and down. “Pretty cozy, huh?”
“House…?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not picky. Whatever you ordered is great,” House casually assured. “Wow, filet mignon at lunch,” House announced as the main courses arrived. “He must really want to do you,” he confided with the nurse, picking up one of the carrots from the plate and chomping down on it hard as if trying to outdo the noise he’d made with the breadstick.
And then she went and stormed away! After Chase had spent all that money, even.
House scoffed and shifted so that he was sitting at the seat with the filet mignon lying before him, starting in on it with his knife and prying a glass of mineral water from Chase’s side of the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get off even if she’s not willing to do it.”
Chase was still gaping at him and somewhere in the hospital, Wilson could have said ‘I told you so’ if he weren’t too busy with patients and the like.
“You’re unbelievable,” Chase observed, sounding just about hopeless.
“That’s not a ‘no’.”
“Just eat your damn steak.”
THE END