menolly_au (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
menolly_au) wrote2012-05-29 06:32 pm
menolly_au) wrote2012-05-29 06:32 pm
Entry tags:
Fic : Another Five Months
Title: Another Five Months
Characters: House, Wilson
Rating: PG
Spoilers: The final arc up to and including the finale.
Words: Double drabble (200)
Summary: Sometimes House is wrong.
As quite often happened, House was wrong. Five months to the day after he gave Wilson his death sentence he pulled out a crisp one hundred dollar bill and slammed it down in front of him.
Wilson looked up at him, surprised. "You're voluntarily paying off a bet? No..." he waved his hand around theatrically, "no technicalities that you can use to wriggle out of it?"
House scowled, and then plopped himself down besides Wilson on the couch, helping himself to a handful of Wilson's fries, a swig of his beer, and one of his pain pills. He closed his eyes for a moment as the pill travelled down his throat, Wilson had the good stuff alright. He looked at Wilson. "There's a jazz festival in Arizona next month, thought we might head over there."
Wilson nodded, "sounds good, but this time we're driving, I want to get there in one piece." He fingered the hundred dollar bill, went to tuck it away in his wallet and then laid it back down on the table. "Go again?"
"Double or nothing?"
Wilson raised his beer bottle in silent salute to House. "You're on. Another five months."
Characters: House, Wilson
Rating: PG
Spoilers: The final arc up to and including the finale.
Words: Double drabble (200)
Summary: Sometimes House is wrong.
As quite often happened, House was wrong. Five months to the day after he gave Wilson his death sentence he pulled out a crisp one hundred dollar bill and slammed it down in front of him.
Wilson looked up at him, surprised. "You're voluntarily paying off a bet? No..." he waved his hand around theatrically, "no technicalities that you can use to wriggle out of it?"
House scowled, and then plopped himself down besides Wilson on the couch, helping himself to a handful of Wilson's fries, a swig of his beer, and one of his pain pills. He closed his eyes for a moment as the pill travelled down his throat, Wilson had the good stuff alright. He looked at Wilson. "There's a jazz festival in Arizona next month, thought we might head over there."
Wilson nodded, "sounds good, but this time we're driving, I want to get there in one piece." He fingered the hundred dollar bill, went to tuck it away in his wallet and then laid it back down on the table. "Go again?"
"Double or nothing?"
Wilson raised his beer bottle in silent salute to House. "You're on. Another five months."